Can I Pls Request Some Face Sitting Headcanons For Bllk Guys? Specifically Sae, Rin, Shido, Oliver And

SHE DID IT SHE JUST DID IT, hope y’all have therapy bc i’m sure we will need it

— moondust ; series

there’s nothing that i can do…

summary: mattheo has always had only one person in the world to care for – himself. when he suddenly realizes that it’s not the case anymore, and his fucked up life can actually fuck up someone else, he doesn’t have a choice but to bury his feelings as deeply as humanly and inhumanly possible.

pairing: mattheo riddle x ravenclaw!reader

cw: 18+ mdni, angst, war, death, violence, torture, physical injuries, anxiety, suicidal thoughts, extreme slowburn, very heavy pining, cursing, drinking, smoking, smut (read warnings for each part)

a/n: this series is going to be a tough pill to swallow emotionally, so read responsibly. no heavy topics mentioned are romanticized. the entire thing is inspired by moondust by jaymes young, the most mattheo song in existence.

…except bury my love for you

PART I

coming soon…

PART II

PART III

PART IV

PART V

PART VI

PART VII

PART VIII

PART IX

PART X

⟡ navigation ; m.lists ; mattheo m.list

OK THIS ONE IS MINE GTFO I’M SO DUMB

but you write so beautifully (this one is for me actually)

have written yours a thousand times. in the margins of books. in the still air of the night. on the inside of my skin.

I WANT THIS ON MY SKIN 😾😾 lowkey need a man like this

letter 2 — a spell in ink and blood

── . ❥ letters m.list

this letter was found hidden beneath your pillow. the ink is rich, deep red. it smears slightly when you touch it, as if it has not yet dried.

—

darling,

did you know that words hold power? that a name, when written carefully, can bind two souls together?

i have written yours a thousand times. in the margins of books. in the still air of the night. on the inside of my skin.

you are a spell i have cast over myself, a curse i wear willingly.

you should not trust letters written in ink so dark, in a hand so familiar. but you will read this to the end, won’t you?

it is already too late.

yours, forever. t.m.r.

—

💌 this is letter 2 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.

─ .✦ 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.”

Stroke of Midnight

12 Days of Dickmas - Theodore Nott x Reader

Summary: Theo and Mattheo help you get over your fear of heights in very fun ways 👀🎁

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, SMUT, chars 18+, modern au, dom!theo, dom!mattheo, threesome, new years hook up, DP, spitroast, rough sex, anal, creampies, PIV, semi public sex, pussy eating, throat fucking, choking, spitting, nipple play, degrading, dirty talk, dom&sub, mattheodore ruining us👀

All morning the two guys who you had come to know as Theo and Mattheo, constantly flirted with you in the small ski lodge cafe where you worked. You found it cute. Endearing. The way they practically fought over on who could out flirt you.

Not expecting to see them again, especially so close to the cafe closing time. It was New Year’s Eve and not like you had plans or anything but you wanted to be home in your bed. That’s when two sets of snowy legs wandered in.

You were met with the two attractive males from earlier and laughed as you shook your head. “Can I help you two?” You asked them in a teasing tone. They both glanced at each other with smirks before facing your gaze.

“Well, you’re closing up right?” Mattheo asked lowly, stalking toward you as he ran a hand through his fluffy curls, Theodore’s smirk only growing wider. “Yeah- why?” Confusion plastered over you.

But Theodore and Mattheo had other plans in mind. “Come to the peak with us…” Theo’s accent rolled off his tongue, making you shudder while he took a step toward you. “Oh…I uh…I can’t-“

How do I even explain this without looking like a total wimp? Fuck. “Why not?” Matt cocked an eyebrow to you, the both of them crossing their toned arms over their chests. “Well….”

You began, the lights slowly shutting off in the cafe as you sighed. Your gaze flickered back and forth between the two men. “I’m terrified of heights- okay? Ski lifts and whatever are not my thing.”

Explaining yourself, Theodore gave you a sympathetic look but Mattheo continued to smirk, clicking his tongue against his cheek. “Come on pretty girl…You have us…” the curly-haired one started and your heart raced.

“Yeah…We’ll take real good care of you, Tesoro…” The Italian said lowly and you swore your heart would be bursting from your chest. Your face flushing up from the two attractive guys. How could I say no?

“I….I don’t know…I guess?” Almost questioning if this was even the right decision, the boys smiled from ear to ear as they started to walk out and you followed. “Don’t worry, Bella— we can take the gondola…It’s enclosed so you’ll feel safer”

Theodore seemed sweet, kind, and thoughtful. Your already cherried face turned even more red as you grabbed your coat and headed into the snowy night with them.

Next in line for the gondola were the three of you. Half an hour until midnight. You shivered a bit and felt the anxiety rise. “Ah— come on now doll, nothing to be nervous about. You have us!” Matt exclaimed, causing Theo to chuckle.

“Mattheo can be an idiot— regardless we’ll be with you. Seems like we’ll be ringing in the new year together-“

New years. With strangers. Hot strangers. Not too bad. You just nodded your head. The coldness getting to you but Theodore threw an arm around you, pulling you close. “Cold, Cara Mia?”

Nodding your head, your nose felt numb, reddened from the brisk air. “Just a little…” The cloud of your breath in the air had you shudder but then the bars opened and all three of you waltzed into the gondola.

At first, you sat across from the two of them. Anxiously fidgeting with the rings on your fingers as you glanced from each window. “Relax…Breath…It’ll be okay” Mattheo reassured with a chuckle.

“Are you sure?” You questioned the both of them softly as Theo hit you with yet another sympathetic gaze before quickly plopping next to you. Giving Mattheo a challenging grin. Throwing his arm around you. “Very sure—“

The Italians strong arm wrapped around you helped the nerves you felt as the gondola started to rise. The metal whirred as you ascended up the mountain. However, you stayed quiet.

Ten minutes or so had passed of silence and Theo and Mattheo messing with each other. But you were in your own head. Suddenly you heard a loud screech, the gondola coming to a halt.

“W-what’s happening?!”

Practically shouting your words, panic started to form inside of you. Your vision getting blurry and Mattheo instantly stood up to come sit on the other side of you. “I’m not sure…” He mumbled to himself as Theo tried to look down below.

That’s when an alarm went off on the speakers before a voice spoke through. “Due to maintenance, we have come to a quick stop! Don’t worry we will be back up and running shortly. We apologize for the inconvenience.”

Fuck. Me. Just my luck huh? You must’ve looked pretty shaken up because now Matt’s arm was also around you and it was taking everything in you to not break down in tears.

“Hey- hey- hey! It’ll be okay— hey! Look at me!” Theodore grabbed your chin, forcing your gaze to meet his. Those inviting ocean eyes. “S-sorry…I’m just….Scared” You admitted quietly, feeling Mattheo’s fingers dance through your lush locks soothingly.

“I know…But it’ll be alright…We just need a distraction!” Mattheo chuckled but your eyes remained glued to Theo’s. You noticed him glance at your lips and your heart flipped.

He seemed to inch closer and closer, your breath getting hitched in your throat. “You’re right, riddle…And I think I know just the thing-“ Before you could even process everything, Theo slammed his lips to yours.

You didn’t even try to fight it, he tasted fucking amazing and he was right- this was a distraction. Hearing Mattheo scoff, he gripped your hair tightly, his free hand going to your thigh.

The kiss between you and Theo only deepened, Mattheo grazing his lips across the side of your neck ever so softly, causing a soft moan to whimper from you. But you didn’t stop it. Not in the least.

“If I wasn’t mistaken…”

Mattheo’s voice was low and raspy against your flesh as he teasingly bit along it, surely leaving little love marks as he went on.

“…You’re fucking loving this…You wanna take us both, Angel?”

He muttered against your collarbone, Theo groaning into the kiss as your hand went down to his pants. Feeling the throbbing boner in between his snow pants.

Mattheo growled, opening up your jacket and kneeling between your legs. Slowly working your own pants and panties off. “Fuckin hell Nott- She has one pretty fucking pussy…”

The vulgarity of his words caused you to whimper between the steamy make out of you and Theodore. The Italian chuckled at Matt’s response as one hand went to your shirt, tugging it down along with your bra to scoop up a breast of yours.

All of the sensations surely were making you forget about your fear of heights. Lost in the bliss of both of the men. Suddenly, a gasp emitted from your throat as Mattheo buried himself between your thighs.

“Feels good does it, Tesoro?”

Theodore asked, purring teasingly against your swollen lips, your foreheads now touching as your submissive gaze flickered between his own. “—Mhhhhmmm…” You managed to mumble out while Mattheo’s tongue worked in indescribable circles along your clit.

With a swift movement, Theo stole a quick peck from you before standing up and wiggling down his pants. Grabbing a fistful of your silky locks. “Good girl- now choke on my cock—“

With a growl, you barely parted your lips as he shoved his massive length down your throat. Slamming his hips against your face while he throat fucked you— Mattheo’s tongue flicking and licking as fast as he could.

Tears pricked your eyes as you fought to keep your glossed-over gaze up on the Italian- a smirk painting over his chiseled face. “You’re close aren’t you?”

You knew your muffled moans vibrating along his dick was probably giving it away and you nodded your head through his plunges in your mouth. “No— Riddle stop,” Theo demanded and Matt shot up, your juices dripping off of his chin.

“The first time I want her to cum…”

Theo shifted over next to Mattheo as he stood up and wiped his mouth. Smirking to each other, Matt moved over to where Theo stood before.

“…I want it to soak my cock—“ Theodore growled, his ocean eyes darkening into a sea of black. With a swift movement, he positioned himself between your legs, teasing his sensitive tip along your leaky slit.

“Y-yes…Fuck—“ Stuttering to yourself, your eyes dashed between the two men, feeling the gondola swing ever so slightly as they shifted over to new positions. “Beg for it-“

Theodore’s domineering tone sent a shiver down your spine- “Please-“ However before you could finish any begging, Matt shoved his cock between your lips, thrusting slowly.

“Keep going—“ The Italian said through gritted teeth, still teasing his throbbing length across your pussy. “P-please…God…Please fuck me- Please!” You spoke over Mattheo’s cock.

Theo hung his head back and let out an animalistic growl before slamming deep inside of your needy cunt. “Cazzo— So fuckin’ wet for us, huh?” He taunted you, Mattheo shooting him a shit-eating grin.

“She loves being spit roasted—“ Mattheo mumbled out deeply, fucking your throat even harder. But you? You were a fucking blissful mess between the two of them. Feeling your eyes already start to roll in the back of your head.

You could feel your orgasm approaching quickly, and your body starting to tremble with euphoric pleasure. “I think she’s getting close, Nott—“ Matt said through a low groan, turned on by the simple sexual aura of you.

“Is that so, Cara mia?”

The question had your submissive stare dancing over to Theo’s. Giving him a subtle head nod through Mattheo’s plows down your throat. Surely you’d have no voice tomorrow.

Theodore slammed his cock faster inside of you, snaking down his hand to apply pressure with his thumb around your clit. Swirling it around in tiny little circles. “Release for me—“

His demand along with all of the other sensations your body was experiencing, Sent you into an earth-shattering orgasm. Your wetness flowed freely down his throbbing length.

“Good fuckin’ girl— Cazzo-“

Theodore slowed down his thrusts, letting the afterglow wash over you while Mattheo pulled out of your mouth. The drool dripping from between your lips. “Fuck— I need to fuck her- feel her…”

Matt sounded hungry, something rumbling within him. However, you noticed the way Theo’s lips curled In a sinister manner. “How do you feel ‘bout anal, pretty girl?” He asked you, Mattheo letting a low chuckle rasp from his throat.

With widened eyes, you could feel your heart thump loudly against your chest. “I-I don’t mind it— I haven’t done it in a while though—“ Speaking shyly, Theodore raised his brows. “What about tonight…Could we both…Fill up those pretty holes of yours?”

With his question, excitement gleamed within Mattheo’s eyes and you swallowed. Fuck it. Why not right? “Y-yes…fuck- please do.” You practically begged the two men and Theo sat down on the seat across, stroking his cock while waiting for you.

Stumbling over, your legs shook with sensitivity, another taunting chuckle escaping Mattheo as he stalked behind you. “We will ease into it- yeah, Tesoro?” Theo murmured across your cheek as you turned around.

Theo’s hands spread your ass cheeks, spitting right onto your little hole before rubbing his thumb over it. He helped lower you onto his length, hissing from the foreign sensation. “Relax—“

Your head shot up to Mattheo’s eager voice, jerking himself off as Theo eased himself into your ass. You obliged, relaxing your body as Theodore slowly pumped himself inside of you.

“Fuck!— Little asshole is so fuckin’ tight-“

Moaning through his words, you didn’t feel pain or pressure…Just pleasure as he fully entered inside of you. Matt now walking up to your spread legs. “You’re such a hot little slut—“

Riddle complimented you but not wasting any time as he pushed his needy cock inside of your already stretched cunt, pounding into you mercilessly. One of his hands going around your throat and gripping hard.

Theo took this time to grab both of your breasts, pinching your nipples to a feeling of ecstasy. You felt so incredibly full and your mind was fuzzy with the immense amount of pleasure soaring within you.

“You weren’t wrong, Nott— She has a damn good pussy-“

The Italian just smirked over at his friend while he helped you move on his cock. You couldn’t even speak, get your raunchy thoughts out. But suddenly you felt that familiar feeling.

“I-I— don’t stop!— Fuck!- I’m gonna cum!”

Screaming with pleasure, you saw fucking stars as you hit yet another climax, this time even more intense than the first. Squirting out onto Matt’s length you swore you physically saw his eyes darken.

“Good girl— feeling so good and full, huh?” Theo spoke right against your ear, but judging by his groans he was close himself. Mattheo’s grip around your throat only tightened. “Such a good girl— gonna make me cum in this pretty cunt-“

You nodded your head, feeling Theo tugging on your nipples harder as they both seemed to fuck you harder. “Give me your cum— both of you— I want it— Fuck!- I want it inside of me— please!”

Crying out your beg, Theodore started pounding deeper inside of your hole, hearing a low growl emitting from his chest before Mattheo fucked your cunt like it was a damn need. His head shot back as he groaned loudly.

Feeling the both of them reach their own orgasm, their cocks throbbed within your walls with the sticky seed they both filled you up with. The three of you caught in haggard breaths.

You were about to speak, to say something. Anything. But you just simply relaxed against Theodore who wrapped his arms around you, his dick still balls deep in your ass while Mattheo pulled out of your cum filled cunt.

Theo leaned up to press a soft yet lingering kiss to your cheek. You couldn’t have believed you had done this but fuck- you weren’t upset about it in the least. Just as you found your words the speakers roared.

“Happy New Year to all of our guests! The lifts will be running here shortly!”

On the 12th day of Dickmas we get… Mattheo and Theodore destroying us🫦🎁

Divider pinned in my masterlist🌙

I can’t believe it’s the end of Dickmas! I hope all my smut sluts and naughty nymphs have enjoyed coming on this wild ride with me! Happy new years, I love you all bunches!💋

— underground fighter mattheo fucking you on a break;

(+18) mini drabble.

➳ nav post. masterlist. moodboard.

mattheo riddle x fem reader. warnings: smut (mdni), pnv, mattheo being a dick, orgasm denial, pussy slapping, mentions to blood, swearing, degradation, violence (he’s a fighter).

mattheo’s breathing was out of control, his chest was rising and falling as his fists pounded his opponent. the adrenaline was taking over his body so violently that his blood seemed ready to explode from his veins; he could barely hear the screams of the crowd, who seemed furious as soon they realized they were going to lose yet another bet and money because of him.

you were a little further away than usual, clutching the small microphone between your fingers as you sat among the other organizers of the event, observing the bloody fight before you. you looked at the fight, thinking if you should feel intimidated by the force mattheo was using to give blow after blow on his opponent, or by the poor man now on the ground beneath mattheo, coughing up blood and desperately trying to get the possessed champion off of him.

the two options seemed interesting enough for ya, but from the crowd's point of view, the fight was already getting repetitive.

he always won, and it was getting tiring for everyone.

you massaged your temples, cursing under your breath, ignoring the confused looks the other organizers shot your way, the gears of your brain grinding as you thought about a way to make the fight more interesting. but nothing came. with no better option, you quickly got up and made your way toward the center of the ring with determined steps.

some of the angry people in the crowd turned their gazes to you, their eyes almost stripping you naked and making you shift uncomfortably as you made your way. yet, they knew better than to do something to you. your connection to the underground and your strange connection with mattheo—who now was pressing his opponent’s head against the bloodied floor—was enough to scare them away.

mattheo’s smirk widened when his eyes met yours, almost like he was saying that the victory and the money were already his.

at least that was what he thought, until he saw you bringing a microphone to your lips and heard the words that would make him furious. “let’s take a short break.” you said, trying to ignore mattheo’s murderous glare and focusing on the sighs of relief from those worried about losing money. “the fight will be back in 15 minutes.”

mattheo was beyond pissed, his bloody fists clenched at his sides before he gave you one last look and stormed off the ring. the crowd was still buzzing, but you could tell mattheo wasn’t interested in the break in that moment, so as soon as he entered one of the dark hallways of the cage, you followed him, calling out his name and receiving angry shouts in return.

and before either of you realized, mattheo’s cock was inside your wet folds, fucking you hard while you struggle to catch your breath.

“fuck, mattheo!” you bite back a moan, your thighs shaking from the force of his strong thrusts into your cunt and the way his fingers kneaded your flesh, leaving bloody handprints on your soft skin—handprints that would probably bruise later, but you didn't seem to care; his cock felt too fucking amazing opening your walls for you to do so.

“you like this, don’t y’a, bitch?” mattheo’s callous fingers dug even deeper into your thighs, his blood-soaked bandages tracing your curves with crimson as the pressure of his hips against yours increased more and more. “you like it when i fuck your desperate cunt, even after what you did? like you actually matter, don’t y’a?”

mattheo let out a raspy chuckle against your ear, his cock sinking even deeper into your silky folds as you nodded eagerly in response.

both of you could hear the screams of the crowd and the loud music coming from the ring at the other side of the hallway, the anxiety of being caught sending shocks of pleasure straight from his cock to your sensitive cunt—almost as if he had transmitted all the remaining adrenaline in his body to yours through the violent thrusts of his hips, tearing your inner walls apart.

“what now? y’a can’t handle the consequences of the shit you did?” his voice was raspier than usual, and he chuckled when he heard your whimpers—whimpers that, from his perspective, were nothing more than pathetic excuses to make him stop fucking you like the slut he knew you were. “what excuse of a pathetic bitch you are, huh?”

you nodded stupidly, only to feel a wave of embarrassment wash over you at your own pathetic attitude. your head spun as the burning sensation in your soaked folds grew stronger with each thrust, his cock slamming into you at a merciless pace.

he fucked you and tore you apart like you were nothing more than a doll, something to be used for his pleasure—nothing more than an outlet for the adrenaline he couldn’t shake off in the ring.

your only purpose was that.

“mattheo—”

“shut up, fucking slut,” he hissed between gritted teeth, clenching his bloodied hands on your thighs even more, his cock fucking you harder as he felt your pussy squeezing him desperately with each clumsy but precise pushings of his length.

mattheo’s bloody hands released your thighs, already marked by his blood, to move to your covered waist, pressing down and leaving crimson stains on the white fabric of your white shirt, but he only squeezed your waist tighter, burying his hips harder against your wet cunt, as if he was trying to distract you from the marks he’d left.

a smirk curled on his lips, knowing you’d be furious when you saw the dirty shirt.

“do you think it’s fair?” he began, each word being accompanied with another thrust. “making me leave the fucking ring when i was about to win the fucking fight?” he asked, trying to put his cock even deeper into your dripping pussy, though he knew it was already impossible—he was buried so deep that he was sure his dick could stay there, lost in your heat.

you didn’t respond, too focused on the sensation of being filled so good.

mattheo let out an irritated growl, his hand gripping your chin forcefully, smearing blood onto your skin and spreading it down to your neck. “when i ask you something, you fucking respond!” he snarled. each word came with a thrust—each thrust a new sensation of pleasure and pain for your pussy and a fresh wave of dominance for his cock.

“no.” you managed to respond between moans, your eyes closing as you tried to find the right words while you felt your pussy being filled, your orgasm almost there. “i don’t think it’s fair,” you said, almost cursing yourself for how ridiculous you sounded.

this man made you lose your goddamn mind; you fucking hated him!

“fuck yeah~,” he began, moving his cock inside your pussy more slowly. “just like i needed to hear,” he murmured, and without waiting for another word, he pulled his cock out from inside your tight walls, making you gasp at the lack of contact.

you blinked confused, your chest rising and falling as you struggled to catch your breath. slowly, your eyes to meet his, and even though his pupils were dilated, they still carried that cynical, almost eager look, a look that only seemed to increase as he caught the furious look you were giving him.

“why did you fucking stop?” you asked angrily, your pussy clenching around nothing in a desperate attempt to stop the frustration. “i was about to cum, fucking asshole!”

mattheo let out a dry, amused laugh, almost as if he couldn’t believe your audacity. you had interrupted his fight, and now you were mad that he had interrupted your orgasm? a little hypocritical on your part—if you asked him.

“well, you have fingers,” he mocked you, bringing his hand close to your pussy before slapping your soaked cunt. the sound echoing through the room, making you whimper as a red imprint stained on your skin, “use them, since you’re so fucking desperate.” he chuckled.

without another glance, he put on his pants and turned on his heel, ready to walk away.

“are y’a fucking kidding me, riddle?!” you asked angrier than before, knowing the other organizers would make questions if they didn’t see you in the ring at time.

“i’m fucking serious, miss,” he purred over his shoulder, a mocking smirk playing at the corner of his lips, and he almost laughed when he saw your fingers teasing your greedy cunt for some sort of relief.

“oh, and before i go… just a little warning,” he stopped in his tracks, his eyes locking onto yours.

“what, now?!”

“before you enter the ring, change your shirt,” mattheo said with mockery. you blinked confuse, making him laugh as he pointed to the bloody handprints on the white fabric. “it's a little dirty, y’a know?” his smirk widened, making you look down at your shirt. your blood boiled when you saw the prints staining it.

“you son of a bitch!” you screamed in his direction, the words practically burning with anger. but he didn’t even flinch. with that same smug smirk playing on his lips, he turned around and started walking away, completely ignoring your shouts.

mattheo’s focus was on winning the fight, and maybe, just maybe, making you lose some clients in the process.

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

in my drafts since december :p comments and reblogs are super welcome and they motivate me a lot, so feel free to interact! 💘

NINETEEN. phone sex — ghostface!theo

warnings — smut 18+. dubcon. phone sex. coercion. manipulation. guided masturbation. threats of violence. voyeurism.

kinkmas mlist. more.

“so, what’s your favourite scary movie, pretty girl?” the voice echoes through the phone as you swing your legs in the air before resting them on the coffee table. reaching into the bowl of popcorn beside you, you grab a handful and mindlessly stuff it into your mouth.

“uhm…” you think, slowly chewing on the popcorn as you stare into the distance, unsure why you’re still calling with this stranger. you don’t even know what he wants from you— he jumped straight to asking all sorts of random questions, intriguing you with his italian accent before you even had the chance to end the call.

you part your lips to speak, but before any words can come out, his low, ominous voice cuts through the phone again, making you nearly choke on your popcorn at his next words.

“do you always eat your popcorn burned?” your heart drops. a wave of dizziness washes over you as you stare down at the burned popcorn in your hand. panic grips you, your breath hitching as your eyes dart around the room, scanning every window, every shadow.

“listen to me very carefully, princess. if you want to live, you better do exactly what i say, capito?” the unknown man growls through the phone, low and commanding. your trembling body tenses, instinctively curling in on itself to make it smaller, the feeling of being watched sending a shiver down your spine.

“uhm, y—yes…” you stammer, still frantically glancing around, trying to figure out how he’s watching you— but through the reflective windows, all you can see is complete and utter darkness.

“good girl. now… stick your hand in your panties and make yourself feel good, a’ight? start slow.” he orders, causing your eyes to widen instantly, your mind racing, unsure if you heard him correctly.

“i— what!?” you gasp, nearly choking on your own saliva, your grip tightening on the phone until your knuckles turn white from how hard you’re squeezing it.

“oh, you heard me. now do it, before i decide to come inside.” his voice turns more stern now, an edge of menace to it that causes you to instantly obey, reluctantly slipping your hand into your stretchy pyjama shorts and lace panties.

“just like that. look at you… so fuckin’ beautiful.” the deep voice grunts into your ear as you slowly close your eyes, trying to focus despite the unusual situation. to your surprise, your cotton panties are completely soaked, making you feel ashamed and causing your cheeks to flush with embarrassment.

“that feels good, huh?” he growls, observing your facial expression as your slick fingers gently rub over your sensitive clit. you bite your lip in concentration, pleasure slowly clouding your scrambled mind.

“mhm… it— uhm, it does.” you shyly admit, feeling even more embarrassed now as you say the words aloud, before hearing a low, condescending chuckle echoing from the phone.

“obeying a stranger just like that, tsk… never heard of stranger danger, hm? whatever… you’re my good girl now, got it?”

“b—but…” “no buts. you hear the phone ringing, you pick up, capito? it’s not that fuckin’ hard… unless you want me to turn your house into a bloodbath. your choice.”

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

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

FICMAS #4— SLOW DOWN! / mattheo riddle

december 15th

mattheo riddle x fem reader

summary: mattheo’s got a little crush on you, but you keep running away every time he tries talking to you!

warnings: smut, unprotected piv, fingering, creampie, spanking, mentions of blood

words: 3.9k

a/n: i’m very very sorry for pushing this back so much—i’ve been really busy, plus i just procrastinated this one a lot. next one will be posted tomorrow so i can get back on schedule. anyways, enjoy!

navigation ficmas masterlist

The corridor was unnervingly quiet, save for the occasional shuffle of parchment or the faint scrape of shoes against stone. You hugged your books tightly to your chest, trying to make yourself invisible as you hurried toward the sanctuary of the library. The cold December air seeping through the ancient castle walls bit at your skin, but it wasn’t nearly as alarming as the warmth you suddenly felt—someone approaching from behind.

“Hi.”

His voice slid into your awareness before you even heard the sound of his footsteps, sending your heart skittering like a startled bird. Turning your head slightly, you caught sight of him—dark curls falling into his eyes, his signature Slytherin tie loosened at his throat, and that grin. The grin that made your chest feel too tight and your thoughts scatter like spilled ink.

Your first instinct, as always, was to flee.

Before he could say more, you ducked your head and pivoted on your heel, muttering something about being late to the library. 

“Oh, no, you don’t.” His hand was warm and firm around your wrist, stopping you mid-flight. He turned you gently to face him, his dark eyes meeting yours with an intensity that made your cheeks burn. “Would you please stop running away from me? It’s worrying me, you know. The way you look like you’ve seen a ghost every time I’m around.”

You didn’t dare meet his eyes. Not yet. You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks, the traitorous flush that gave away just how much he affected you. “I’m not running,” you mumbled, though the evidence was damning.

“Oh, come on.” He laughed, soft and incredulous. “You bolt every time I so much as look at you. Do you have any idea how hard it is to catch up with you? You’re like—like a mouse slipping through cracks.”

Your lips parted, but no sound came out at first. He tilted his head, the faintest frown pulling at the corners of his mouth. “I don’t bite, you know. Not unless you ask.” 

His teasing tone made your stomach flip. “I’m sorry,” you muttered, dropping your gaze to the floor.

“Don’t be,” he said softly, his grip on your wrist loosening but not letting go entirely. “I just—look, you know I’m not going to hurt you, right?”

“I-I know,” you stammered, and it was true. He wasn’t threatening to you, not even close. But that didn’t make the rapid thudding of your heart any less overwhelming. 

His brow furrowed slightly. “Then what is it?” His voice dropped, quieter now, as if he was trying not to spook you. “Am I too much? Too… loud? Intense? I can tone it down if that’s what you need.”

The earnestness in his voice nearly unraveled you. You wanted to tell him that it wasn’t his fault—that it was you, and your inability to handle the way he seemed to draw everyone’s attention with effortless charm. The way he smiled like he knew every secret in the world. The way his presence made you feel like you were standing too close to the sun.

“I—” You bit your lip, scrambling for an excuse, any excuse, but your brain seemed to be short-circuiting under his gaze. “I’m just...not used to people like you.”

“People like me?” His eyebrows lifted, the corner of his mouth twitching upward in a half-smile. “What does that mean?”

“You know.” You waved your free hand vaguely, avoiding his eyes again. “Confident. Charming.”

“Ah.” He let out a low chuckle, the sound warm and rich, wrapping around you like a blanket. “So, what? You’re allergic to confidence?”

“No! I just—” You huffed, flustered, and Mattheo’s grin widened.

“You’re cute when you’re flustered, you know that?” he said, and your stomach flipped violently.

“I am not,” you mumbled, heat rising to your cheeks.

“You are,” he insisted, his tone teasing but gentle. “And I’m not saying that to make you run away again, by the way. I’d really prefer it if you didn’t.”

You glanced up at him then, your heart doing somersaults at the soft, hopeful look in his eyes. And for a moment, you thought maybe you could do this—stay, talk to him, let yourself believe that someone like Mattheo Riddle could actually like someone like you.

But instead, you mumbled something incoherent and, in a sudden burst of courage—or cowardice—twisted out of his grasp and darted down the hallway.

“Wait—! Oh, come on! Slow down!” His exasperated laugh echoed behind you, followed by his voice, playful but resigned. “You’re killing me, you know that?”

Oh, but you weren’t getting away that easily.  

Because by some twist of fate—or Mattheo’s uncanny ability to be everywhere you didn’t want him to be—you found yourself crossing paths with him again that very afternoon. And this time, there was no escaping.  

The hospital wing was quiet, the kind of quiet that wrapped itself around you like a blanket, broken only by the soft clink of glass vials as you worked. You were perched at Madame Pomfrey’s desk, carefully restocking rows of remedies, when the heavy wooden door creaked open.  

You didn’t look up at first, assuming it was Madame Pomfrey returning from her rounds. But then you heard the familiar drawl.  

“Madame Pomfrey, I—oh.”  

Your hand froze mid-reach for a jar of bruise balm. Your stomach plummeted. You knew that voice.  

You froze, your hand stilling mid-reach for a jar of essence of murtlap. Slowly, as though moving too quickly might summon some greater disaster, you turned your head toward the door.

There he was.

Mattheo Riddle, leaning casually against the doorframe, one arm tucked against his side, the other pressed lightly to his jaw where a streak of blood stood out against his pale skin. His shirt was untucked, his tie gone, and his dark curls were just messy enough to make him look infuriatingly perfect.  

Your heart started to pound, the air in your lungs thinning to a whisper. “You,” you said before you could stop yourself, the word barely louder than a squeak.  

Mattheo grinned, even as he winced slightly, straightening from the doorframe. “Me,” he echoed.

You swallowed hard, gripping the edge of the desk as if it might keep you grounded. “What... what happened?”  

“I fell,” he said simply, though the smirk on his lips made it impossible to believe him.

“You fell,” you repeated flatly, crossing your arms.

He nodded solemnly, though there was nothing solemn about the way his eyes flicked over you, taking in the rolled-up sleeves of your uniform and the faint smudge of ink on your wrist from earlier. “Tragic, I know. But lucky me—I’ve landed in the most capable hands.”

Your cheeks burned, and you immediately dropped your gaze, fussing with the nearest jar of ointment to avoid his eyes. “Madame Pomfrey isn’t here,” you mumbled. “I’m just helping... for now.”  

“Oh, I don’t mind,” he said, moving toward one of the hospital beds. “I think I like the idea of you taking care of me.”  

Your fingers fumbled, nearly knocking over a bottle of murtlap essence. “Sit,” you said quickly, pointing to the bed without looking at him. “You need to sit so I can... um... look at that.”  

He chuckled softly but complied, settling onto the edge of the bed. “As you wish.”  

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself as you grabbed a cloth and some antiseptic. But when you turned back, he wasn’t sitting anymore. He was standing again, closer now—too close, that lazy grin still firmly in place.

Your breath caught. “You—what are you doing?”  

“Stretching my legs,” he said easily, his voice low and warm.  

“You’re supposed to be resting,” you said, your voice trembling slightly as you tried to sound firm. “You’re injured—”  

“It’s nothing,” he said, his grin widening as he leaned against the desk, his dark eyes fixed on you. “I’m not that fragile, you know.”  

“But—”  

“Do I make you nervous?” he interrupted, tilting his head slightly, his curls falling into his eyes.  

You immediately shook your head, even though you could feel the heat crawling up your neck. “N-no. I mean—why would you think that?”  

“Because you’re practically shaking,” he said, his tone softer now, though no less teasing. “And because you keep looking anywhere but at me.”  

Your eyes flicked up to his for a fraction of a second before dropping back down to the floor. “I’m not... I mean, I just—”  

“You’re adorable,” he said, and the warmth in his voice made your pulse race.  

You froze, your fingers tightening on the cloth in your hands. “I should clean your cut,” you mumbled, stepping back toward him.  

But before you could reach him, he moved again, his hands finding the edge of the table on either side of you, caging you in.  

“Mattheo—”  

“I’m not going anywhere this time,” he said softly, his voice barely more than a murmur. His dark eyes held yours, the intensity in them stealing the words right out of your throat. “So stop running.”  

His face was so close now, the warmth of his breath ghosting across your cheek, making your skin tingle. You could see the individual lashes framing those mesmerizing eyes, the slight curve of his lips, the way his teeth nipped gently at his lower lip...

"Come on," you muttered, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart. You lifted the antiseptic in your hand. "Just... please let me help you."

It sounded weak, pathetic even, but you couldn't bring yourself to care.

For a long moment, he simply looked at you, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, he stepped back, giving you space to breathe again.

"You're right," he said, his voice a little rougher than usual. "Thank you."

He sat back down on the bed, his posture a bit less casual now, more tense. He looked up at you through his lashes, his gaze softer than before.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I didn't mean to overwhelm you. I just..." He paused, seeming to struggle for the right words. "I like you, Y/N. A lot. And sometimes I forget myself around you."

You blinked rapidly, processing his words. "You... really?" you asked softly, hardly daring to believe it. Slowly, hesitantly, you took a step closer, drawn to him despite your nerves.

"Yes, really," he confirmed, his voice low and sincere. As you drew near, he reached out, his large hands coming to rest on your hips. In one smooth motion, he pulled you down onto his lap, his strong arms wrapping around your waist to steady you.

You gasped, your hands flying up to press against his chest. You could feel the firm muscles beneath his shirt, the rapid thud of his heartbeat. Your own heart raced in response, your cheeks flaming with heat.

He smiled softly, his thumbs rubbing gentle circles on your hip bones as he held you close. "There," he murmured, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. "Isn't this better?"

You squirmed slightly in his lap, hyper-aware of every point where your bodies touched. "I... I don't know if this is a good idea," you whispered, even as your traitorous body melted into his embrace. Your hands slid up his chest to loop around his neck, fingers tangling in the soft curls at his nape.

He chuckled lowly, the sound vibrating through you. "Why not? We're alone, aren't we?" His hands slid up your sides, thumbs brushing the underside of your breasts through your blouse. "No one has to know..."

He leaned in, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your jaw and down the column of your throat. "Let me take care of you," he breathed against your skin, his other hand sliding down to palm your ass. "I promise I'll make it feel good."

You whimpered softly as his lips and tongue worked magic on your sensitive skin, your head lolling back to give him better access. But as he kissed lower, you suddenly felt something wet and sticky on your throat–his cut.

"Wait," you gasped, pulling back slightly. You brought a hand up to your neck, your fingers coming away streaked with blood. "You're still bleeding, Mattheo. We should clean that first before... before anything else happens."

He paused, looking up at you with lust-darkened eyes. A slow, amused grin spread across his face. "You think I give a fuck about that right now?" he muttered, pulling you flush against him again. "Don't worry about that."

His hand fisted in your hair, tugging your head back as he attacked your throat with renewed fervor, licking and sucking at the bloodied skin. 

"M-Mattheo," you whimpered, your nails digging into his shoulders. "We shouldn't... not here..."

Even as you protested weakly, your hips started to move of their own accord, grinding down against the growing hardness you could feel pressing against your thighs. The friction sent sparks of pleasure shooting through you, making your head spin.

He groaned into your neck, the vibrations rumbling through his chest and into yours. His hands tightened on your hips, encouraging your movements as he rocked up against you.

"Oh, fuck. You're not as innocent as you pretend to be, huh?" he noted, his voice rough with desire.

In one fluid motion, he lifted you off his lap, rising from the bed as you stumbled back. His hands roamed possessively, sliding from your waist to the curve of your lower back before trailing up to cup the soft swell of your tits. His touch was rough and insistent, squeezing and kneading as if he couldn't get enough of you. 

Before you could catch your breath, he turned you around, his firm grip guiding you into place. His hand pressed against the small of your back, a silent command that sent heat pooling in your belly as you bent forward, your chest and palms flattening against the bed.

You felt the air shift around you, cool and heady against your heated skin, as Mattheo's fingers toyed with the hem of your skirt. He dragged it up slowly, deliberately, his movements measured, as though savoring every inch of you revealed to him.  

"Running from me, again and again," he muttered, his voice dark and edged with amusement. "And now look at you. Right where I’ve always wanted you."  

Your breath caught, shame and desire tangling in your chest. You couldn’t bring yourself to respond—not when his hands curled under the waistband of your panties, dragging them down the curve of your thighs in one slow, tantalizing motion.  

"Mattheo," you whispered, your voice trembling, barely audible above the pounding of your own heart.  

His low laugh sent shivers through you. "Finally saying my name. Do you know how long I’ve waited to hear that? And not just in your shy little apologies."  

Your knees nearly buckled as his fingers teased the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, tracing lazy circles closer and closer to where you ached for him. He let the silence hang, heavy and charged, before looping his arm around your front. 

"Cute,” he murmured. "You’ve spent weeks avoiding me, playing coy. But I think you’ve wanted this just as much as I have. Haven’t you?"  

You couldn’t speak, couldn’t think—only gasp as his fingers found your clit, rubbing slow, deliberate circles that sent sparks skittering up your spine.  

"Answer me," he demanded, his tone soft but unyielding. "I want to hear you say it."  

Your nails dug into the bedspread, and you shook your head, overwhelmed by the intensity of his touch. "I-I don’t…"  

"Don’t what?" His fingers curled around the back of your neck, squeezing lightly. "Don’t want me? Don’t need this? Say it, sweetheart, because your body’s telling me a very different story."  

You whimpered, the heat pooling between your thighs making it impossible to deny him—or yourself. "I…I want you," you finally choked out, your voice so quiet you weren’t sure he’d heard.  

But he did.  

"Good girl," he praised, the words dripping with satisfaction. His movements quickened, drawing tight, delicious circles that had your legs trembling. "See? That wasn’t so hard, was it? All you had to do was stop running."  

A soft gasp escaped your lips as his hand slid down from your neck, tracing the curve of your hip before gripping your ass firmly. His other hand left your front, joining its twin to knead and grope the plush flesh, his thumbs digging in with a possessive hunger that made heat bloom low in your belly again.  

“You’re perfect here,” he mused, his voice a deep hum as he spread your cheeks apart, his touch maddeningly deliberate. “Bent over for me like this. Made for me, aren’t you?”  

You bit your lip, trying to suppress the whimper that threatened to escape, but Mattheo didn’t miss it. He laughed softly, the sound dripping with smug satisfaction.  

“Don’t hold back now,” he coaxed, his hands trailing up and down the back of your thighs, lingering just long enough to tease but not satisfy. “I want to hear every little sound you make for me.”  

You opened your mouth to reply, but before you could form a word, his palm landed on your ass with a sharp smack—not hard enough to hurt too much, but enough to send a jolt of heat straight through you.  

“Mattheo!”  

“There it is,” he purred, his hands smoothing over the spot he’d just struck, his touch soothing and warm. “You sound so fucking sweet when you say my name like that.”  

Before you could respond, you felt the hard press of his length against you, separated only by the fabric of his trousers. He rolled his hips, letting you feel the full weight of him, and your knees buckled slightly at the realization of just how much he wanted you.  

“You feel that?” he murmured, his lips brushing the back of your neck as he reached down to unbuckle his belt. The soft clink of metal was almost drowned out by the pounding of your heart. “That’s what you do to me. Every time you run, every time you look at me with those shy little glances—you drive me fucking insane.”  

The ruffling of fabric being lowered was too hard to ignore, and you couldn’t stop yourself from glancing back over your shoulder. The sight of him—breathing heavily, his cock thick and hard, standing proudly against the taut muscles of his stomach—sent a wave of heat washing over you.  

“Eyes front,” he ordered, his voice rough with arousal. When you didn’t obey fast enough, his hand came down on your ass again, the sharp sting making you gasp. “Now.”  

You did as he said, pressing your forehead into the bedspread as his hands roamed over you again, his touch both reverent and demanding. One hand slipped between your thighs, spreading you open, while the other gripped your hip, holding you steady.  

“God, you’re so wet for me,” he groaned, his fingers sliding through your slick folds. He teased your entrance with the tip of one finger before pushing inside, curling it just enough to make you arch back against him.  

“You like that?” he asked, his voice laced with a dark kind of affection as he added another finger, stretching you slowly. “I can feel how tight you are. So perfect. So ready for me.”  

Your answer was a broken moan, your body moving instinctively against his hand.  

“Shit,” he breathed, pulling his fingers out only to replace them with the blunt head of his cock, teasing your entrance with maddening slowness. “You’re gonna ruin me, you know that?”  

The stretch of him entering you was almost too much, but the way he worked you—inch by agonizing inch, his hands gripping your hips to keep you still—sent a wave of pleasure through you that made your toes curl.  

“Fuck,” he groaned, his voice a husky growl as he bottomed out, filling you completely. He stayed there for a moment, his breathing ragged, his hands running over the curve of your back and the swell of your ass. “You feel so fucking good, baby. So tight, so perfect. Tell me how it feels.”  

“Good,” you managed, your voice barely more than a whisper. “So good.”  

“Yeah?” He pulled back slowly, leaving only the tip of his cock inside you before snapping his hips forward again with a deep thrust, filling you completely. You gasped, your body jerking forward at the force, but he didn’t give you a moment to adjust. He set a slow, measured pace, his thrusts deep but deliberate, pulling out and pushing back into you with an almost agonizing slowness that made your heart race. “You like it when I fill you up like this? When I make you mine?”  

Your only response was a strangled moan, your fingers clutching the sheets as he sped up his rhythm, each thrust driving you closer to the edge.  

His hand left your hip, sliding down to your front to brush your clit with just the right amount of pressure. "God, you’re perfect," he muttered, his voice rough as he continued to slide in and out of you, each stroke a slow burn. "I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anyone like I want you right now."

The pressure inside you was building, slow and steady, like the tightening of a coil. You could feel every inch of him, each thrust dragging out the pleasure until it was almost unbearable. You clenched around him, urging him deeper, and he groaned in response, his grip tightening on your hips as he pushed you harder into the bed.

“You’re fucking incredible,” he breathed, his voice rough and full of need. His thrusts picked up, faster now, more urgent, but still controlled, as if he wanted to drag this out as long as possible. “You feel so fucking good, so warm and tight around me. Don’t hold back. I want to hear you.”

Your hands gripped the sheets, nails digging into the fabric as the pleasure mounted. He hit that sweet spot inside you with every thrust, driving you mad with the sensation, and you couldn’t stop the whimper that escaped your lips.

“Please…” you gasped, not sure if you were begging for more or for him to take you faster. It didn’t matter. You just needed him. 

Mattheo smirked, his fingers still pressing against your clit, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. "You want it faster? You want me to make you come on my cock?"  

You nodded, desperate for more. “Yes, please…”

“That’s what I thought,” he rasped, his thrusts quickening as he slammed into you with abandon. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, along with the low groans escaping both of you.  

With one final, devastating thrust, you shattered, your release crashing over you like a tidal wave. Mattheo wasn’t far behind, his rhythm growing erratic as he buried himself deep inside you, groaning your name as he followed you over the edge.  

For a moment, the world was nothing but the sound of your ragged breaths and the heat of his body against yours. Then, slowly, he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder.  

“You’re not running from me again,” he murmured, his voice a quiet promise. “Not now. Not ever.” 

ficmas taglist: @winnie1emon @ur-local-wizard @satosugu4-ever @ankoluvs @superstargirll @slytherin-princess-x @abeoavita @mattheoriddle101 @georgiastars13 @smoooore @mattheoriddles-sluttt @2dloveshp @mattysprincess @catching-fire-in-the-wind @revesephemeres @esmerai-artemis @clar2aa @enchantingpatrolharmony @iamaconfusedpan

(comment or dm to be added to the taglist)

Smutmas 2024 | ᴛᴏᴍ ʀɪᴅᴅʟᴇ x ʀᴏꜱɪᴇʀ ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

I Appreciate You.

Short summary: After some persuasion, Tom joins you for Christmas dinner. Only then he finds out your parents haven’t exactly treated you well and seizes the opportunity to show you what it means to be truly appreciated.

Warnings: nothing, just fluff (for now…)

A/N: I have entered a bad case of writing block halfway through this, so I cut it short. I AM SORRY. I’ll take a day or two off and write a pt 2☹️

wordcount: 1,6k

Tom and you have been friends for a while – or rather study accomplices, as he would call it. Though lately, you have grown closer. Oddly close, at least if you knew Riddle, who wasn’t one to interact with others unless it served a purpose. You have known that from the beginning, so it never really appeared to you why he would be different towards you exactly – but you weren’t going to complain about someone tutoring you after all – someone who was equally as smart as pretty.

“You forgot pearl dust.” he sighs in disappointment, not looking up as he fidgets with his quill. “Tom it’s been two hours, my head is a mess. Let’s take a break?”

His gaze flicks from his quill to your eyes and stares at you briefly before speaking up. “I don’t take breaks. If you want me to keep being generous enough to help you, you do it my way.”

That’s how it goes every single time. You don’t argue against it – you just do what he says. The desperation to become better at Potions is greater than your ego after all and you have also come to notice it is better not to talk back to him. The last time you did, he wouldn’t even speak to you for two weeks after.

Tom clears his throat and you return your focus to the present. “It’s been an unnecessarily long time since you have started staring at me. Focus on your textbook.”

“Right, right! Sorry.” Your cheeks heat up and you repeat the brewing process from the beginning.

After what feels like an eternity, he is satisfied – as much as he could be. Tom obviously is never fully satisfied, always has something to criticize that you didn’t do right, something he says you would need to work on the next time you two meet to study.

There was always going to be a next time.

As you two pack up, you see house elves working on the Christmas decorations just outside the library, putting up a pine tree and some red and golden ornaments. It’s the Thursday before winter break, and you would soon go home to spend the time with your family. They have told you to bring a friend, though all of them have declined so far. You would just go alone. Until – well, you think about Tom.

“Uh, I actually have one more question.” You start, turning to face him. He raises his eyebrows expectantly signalling you to continue. “Soooo, I have been wanting to ask you whether you wanted to join me for Christmas dinner at home. My parents have asked me to bring someone along.”

“We aren’t friends. Besides that, I don’t celebrate Christmas.”

That’s exactly the answer you assumed he’d give, but you weren’t going to give up that easily. Your family has been talking about him often lately, about the Gaunt family, purebloods just like you. All the things they say you don’t understand anyway. It’s been like that since you were born, they always favoured your older brother over you. You have stopped arguing against it.

“Come on, Tom! It’s just a dinner, one evening. I know you don’t usually leave Hogwarts for Christmas break, I just wanted to give you the opportunity to meet my parents. They have been talking about you.”

He contemplates for a moment then. He is aware that his family, at least his mother’s side, has caught people’s attention. Apparently also the Rosiers’. Rosier family, part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. It would only be to his benefit to get to know them personally. And he hated admitting it, but lately - he has found himself strangely intrigued by you. A smart girl, who wouldn’t normally need his tutoring, not if he didn’t tell you to come back every week for another lesson.

“I suppose I will think about it. If I decide for it, I will join you at the train station.”

Your lips curl into a bright smile. “Thank you, Tommy! You are the best.”

He sighs. “How often have I told you to stop calling me that?”

“Sorry, sorry! I am just super excited to introduce you. They have been pestering me with questions about your mother’s family.”

You swear you see a slight spark in his eyes at the mention of his mother, though his usual stern expression returns just a second later. “Have a good evening.” he replies and leaves you behind at the library without saying another word.

-

There has not been a single sign of Tom when you board the train. Secretly you have hoped he would come and join you, though as soon as you leave the station you find yourself at peace with the fact you’d be going home alone for the break. The scenery shifts as you look out of the window, a thick layer of snow covering the otherwise green Scottish Highlands. You see deer scavenging for any grass they can find, scraping at the frozen ground with their hooves, the nearby hares’ white winter fur blending in perfectly with the scenery.

There aren’t too many students in your wagon, meaning you get to have a compartment all for yourself. Just like normally, your eyes grow tired, voices around you turning into a blur, and you fall asleep.

It wasn’t long until someone clearing their throat, taking a seat next to you woke you again. “So, what’s for dinner?” he asks, and you turn to face him.

Your face lights up at the sight of the person in front of you. “Tom! I am so happy you decided to come along!”

“I suppose it’s a welcome opportunity to connect with another renowned family.” he replies, and you nod, though slightly disappointed. “Of course.”

The rest of the journey, both of you don’t speak much. It’s a weird energy between you, something you don’t quite recognize. You are glad – as glad as you could be, knowing your family awaits you just outside – when the train arrives at your station. Both of you get off, and your mother’s and father’s faces light up at the sight of, not you, but Tom. They greet him first, ask him how the journey has been.

It’s only when you arrive at home that they ask you to help prepare dinner while Tom’s being shown around the manor. Even at dinner they won’t let him be and you wonder whether it was a good decision to bring him home with you.

In a moment of silence, your mother first looks at you, then at him. A smile forms on her face, something you only rarely get to see and you wonder what may be behind it.

“We are so glad you have decided to join us. Our daughter really couldn’t have chosen a better boyfriend.”

Oh.

You feel your heart drop in your chest at her words. They must have misunderstood the situation. Your cheeks heat up and you see Tom’s face changing into one of confusion.

Trying to save the evening, you quickly try to explain. “No it’s- we are not-“

“I am pleased to hear I am meeting your expectations.”

Tom’s words cut you off, and for a moment you aren’t sure whether you have heard him correctly. You blink a few times and shoot him a confused look, and he smiles at you.

Smiles.

You nod quickly, lowering your gaze onto the plate in front of you as you feel your cheeks heat up. For the rest of the evening, you don’t say much, even when you all gather around the Christmas tree. They ask questions about your relationship, which only Tom answers. He sits next to you and as the night progresses, his hand wanders up your lower back, snaking around your waist. You visibly shiver at his touch but decide to play along.

As soon as everyone has excused themselves to bed, you move away a little, escaping his grip. “Tom, I am sorry, they must have completely misunderstood.”

He shakes his head. “Don’t apologize.”

“No really I-“

“Sshhh.” he whispers, his face inching closer to yours then, capturing you in a tender kiss. His hand rests on the back of your head, softly pressing you against him. You inhale deeply as you break apart, your eyes trailing up from his lips to his eyes. It’s only the candles on the Christmas tree that shine a dim light on both of your forms, yet you are able to make out the changed look on his face.

“We shouldn’t.” you murmur, shaking your head.

“I see the way you look at me in the library. And you perfectly know why I want to keep meeting you. Yet both of us are too stubborn to admit it.”

Though you hate to admit it, he’s right.

“I just didn’t think you would like someone like me.”

Tom huffs. “You never acknowledge your worth, and I suspect that is what your parents have taught you. They don’t see your potential. They diminish your achievements. Why do you let them?” he asks, and you rest your head on his shoulder.

“I have stopped caring a long while ago. You know how it is.”

Tom doesn’t reply after that, though his hand continues running up and down your back soothingly. You stay like this for a while, until he slowly turns his head, facing you.

“I will show them what it means to appreciate you.”

His voice is low and controlled as his face is a mere inch away from yours, his breath warm on your skin.

“I will show you what it means to be appreciated.”

something is off i just feel it

I KNEW YOU WERE GOING TO EAT, AND I WAS FUCKING RIGHT!!! everything about this just screams perfection, and i’ll say it to anyone who’ll listen!!!

to snow, this was a disaster. he could feel his ticket to that plinth prize slowly slipping through his fingers- he had to do something.

the scenario, the imagery, and the fact that he’s nervous about losing his precious prize?!? THIS IS SO GOOD, HELLO??? that’s snow for me 🙂‍↕️

but snow was selfish. he didn't really care about your survival - he cared about what your survival meant to him.

this is perfection. the fact that he said this after falsely sweet-talking her to get what he wanted—holly shit, this is insanely accurate, and you’re writing him so well

snow wasn't going to let you ruin his life any further.

eyes, snow momentarily saw you as a human rather than a project- as someone just like him. but he quickly shook the ridiculous thoughts from his head.

and you were worried about not writing him accurately?! stfu, this is coriolanus snow in flesh and bones

by the way, I LOVED the detail that he saw her as human for just a moment, only to quickly dismiss the idea because she’s from the districts—she’s nothing more than an animal to him

arina you’re a fucking genius !!!!

you gasped when his fingers unexpectedly touched you between your legs, causing you to furrow your brows. snow reassuringly nodded at you, non-verbally letting you know that it was okay.

ok sooooo… now i have the permission to be a slut? yes? very well 🤭🤭

his fingers gently rubbed your cunt over your underwear, movements slow and careful, as if afraid to scare you away. when he noticed you gradually melting under his touch, he slid your panties to the side, his signature smirk growing when he felt just how wet you already were.

no thoughts… just this 💦💦💦💦 literally you write smut so vividly, i love your writing style so much

i’m imagining one of the other tributes pretending to be asleep and seeing this, lmaooo—it’s still hot tho 🤌🏻

pause, because i need to say—her emotions are so well-written that i feel like i can experience the same things as her: the nervousness for the games and the reassurance from coryo’s fake promises 😖😖 i’m aushhshs

his lips hearing the exact words he wanted you to say. he had you under his control now — you were his.

FUCKING YES, i love possessive coriolanus jsjsjsj

this was so, so good, and i’m really glad you wrote this 🤭

i’m wet

hi pretty girl idk if zoya already sent this in but in case she didn’t, here’s a little coryo request 😇

coryo fingers reader through the bars while she’s locked in the cage and all the other tributes are sleeping… super sweet cute innocent request!!!

thank u angel 💋🫂

coryo fingering you through the bars of the zoo cage while the other tributes are sleeping…

“one more day until the games. are you ready?” snow, your mentor, didn’t know why he was even asking— clearly, you weren’t ready. you couldn’t even meet his gaze through the metal bars in the zoo, trembling as you fidgeted with your fingers. to snow, this was a disaster. he could feel his ticket to that plinth prize slowly slipping through his fingers— he had to do something.

“hey, look at me. it’ll be alright, i promise. i’ll do everything i possibly can to make sure you’ll survive.” but snow was selfish. he didn’t really care about your survival— he cared about what your survival meant to him. his mind was working overtime, scrambling for ways to calm you down.

“come closer.” he then ordered, seeing only one possible way to make you relax. it was tricky, but it had to be done. snow wasn’t going to let you ruin his life any further. you hesitantly approached him, settling onto your knees as close to the bars as possible, gazing up at him with a puzzled expression.

seeing the shimmering in your eyes, snow momentarily saw you as a human rather than a project— as someone just like him. but he quickly shook the ridiculous thoughts from his head. he wasn’t like you, and he never would be.

“do not make a noise. i’m here to help, okay? we need you to calm down if you want to win tomorrow.” you nodded, having no other choice but to let your mentor take control. after all, he knew what was best for you. oh, how lucky snow was to have such a naive girl as his tribute.

his hand carefully moved towards you through the bars, his eyes sharply glancing at the sleeping tributes, making sure they wouldn’t suspect a thing. you gasped when his fingers unexpectedly touched you between your legs, causing you to furrow your brows. snow reassuringly nodded at you, non-verbally letting you know that it was okay.

his fingers gently rubbed your cunt over your underwear, movements slow and careful, as if afraid to scare you away. when he noticed you gradually melting under his touch, he slid your panties to the side, his signature smirk growing when he felt just how wet you already were.

with a focused expression on his face, his digits carefully slipped into your dripping entrance, stretching you out. your first instinct was to close your legs at the foreign intrusion by your mentor, out of all people. it felt wrong, your heart pounding in your chest as you worried about the other tributes hearing you. but when his fingers quickly found your sweet spot, your legs widened, craving for more.

“promise me you’ll do your best tomorrow.” he demanded, blue eyes fixed on your expression, feeling satisfaction as he watched you relax more and more. unlike you, snow didn’t feel that same sense of depravity. as always, he found ways to justify his actions, to make him sleep better at night. he was simply taking care of his tribute. isn’t that what he was supposed to do?

“i need you to say it.” he urged once more, his eyes narrowing as his fingers came to a halt and pulled out. you whined at the sudden loss of contact, your nearing orgasm slowly ebbing away as your eyes shot wide open. snow’s expression grew more stern this time, his usual charming and caring facade slipping for a split second.

“i will— i will do whatever it takes to survive! i promise i’ll do anything you tell me to!” you whispered desperately, eyes pleading for him to continue, hips helplessly wiggling. a satisfied, sly smile danced on his lips hearing the exact words he wanted you to say. he had you under his control now— you were his.

for my loves @riddleshire and @leona-hawthorne <3