Mattheo Riddle - Blog Posts

I’M SO READY FOR THIS, a hot man with uniform 🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️

⊹ ࣪ ˖ MILITARY!MATTHEO

₊⊹ military!mattheo ; the battle-hardened soldier with calloused hands and a voice like gravel, always carrying the scent of gunpowder and pine. his uniform is pressed, his posture straight, but the second he’s through the door, he’s on you—starved, desperate, whispering how fucking beautiful you are between rough kisses. he’s spent months dreaming about this, about you—about the way your soft little body fits beneath his, about how sweet you sound when he fucks you open, stretching you until you’re trembling. you’re his gentle girl, his soft thing, and he swears he’ll never let the world touch you—only him. and when he folds you in half, pressing your knees to your chest as he buries himself deep, murmuring how much he loves you, how much he missed you—you believe him.

₊⊹ works

— coming soon…

₊⊹ navigation ; military!mattheo ; au’s ; m.list

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

my girl @nottsangel has a military!theo au as well, so if you like this, definitely check that out!!

leona, i wanna give you a big kiss on your forehead because you just gave me another masterpiece to read and another FEAST to eat (not surprised because you always know exactly what you’re doing) 🤲🏻

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.

first of all, he’s so nasty for doing this lmao, and i love it, he’s really eating his sister in law’s cunt on his brother’s bed 🏃‍♀️ this man has no decency, and i fucking love him for it lmao

second of all, i fucking love when you write smut, it’s already so fucking good, and it’s only the second paragraph 🙂‍↕️

"mattheo-" your voice is a strangled whisper, your fingers pulling at his curls,

this girl is living my dream life rn, i’m jealous and i’m not afraid to admit it (i want to be her so bad

"oh, now you remember my name?" […] "that's funny. thought it was 'tom, tom, tom' with you."

he’s such a son of a bitch 😭 i love love love that you made him so provocative. he’s taunting like he didn’t do anything wrong, and it makes me feel so ^%{%{%{ !!!

"mattheo, we-we can't-"

"we already are."

— 👙❌ i mean say less (i’m not complaining

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."

"so fuckin' easy,"

I FUCKING CAN’T WITH THIS SON OF BITCH, i can’t even be mad because i’m too busy drooling over your amazing smut and his attitude 😔

i love the way you write him, how his attitude interferes with the sex and makes everything even more interesting. the way he talks and provokes the reader, letting her know she’s doing something wrong but still pushing her to do it—even when he’s in the wrong too and i love that he doesn’t care if his brother finds out—it’s so fucking good 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

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?"

the scene is so vivid in my head that i might need a doctor… or maybe a condom yk 💦💦💦

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.

TELL HIM TO BRING HIS ASS BACK BC I NEED MORE, RIGHT NOW *{%{%]%\%\%%\%\%\

i love the way you write I LOVE THIS AND I CANNOT WAIT TO READ MORE 10/10 one more time

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.

OKAY…SOPH SAY LESS AND HOLD MY HAND ??? I’M SO FUCKING READY

INCUBUS!MATTHEO ᯓ★

Incubus!Mattheo is the kind of mythological creature to stray from common folklore. He's seductive, sharp-tongued, and deadly. His sweet words enrapture every woman he sets his eyes on; but his touch is pointed like a knife, and his presence alone is enough to kill.

au list

©ur-local-wizard translating, republishing, copying, or claiming my work as yours is not permitted. all my work belongs to me and me only. thank you!

blood moon — t.n. & m.r. part 1

pairing: dark!theodore nott x fem!reader x dark!mattheo riddle. (mattheo makes his appearance in pt2)

warnings: smut 18+, dubcon, breaking and entering, violence, blood, knives (cutting into skin), rough oral sex (m. receiving), mask kink, mentions of murder, swearing

word count: 4k

summary: purge night— a night you’ve feared all year despite coming from a rich and powerful family. but when six masked men show up at your door, are you really as safe as you thought?

the purge au… moodboard. nav. more.

“This is not a test, this is your Emergency Broadcast System. Announcing the commencement of the annual purge sanctioned by the Government. Weapons of class four and lower have been authorised for use during the purge; all other weapons are restricted. Commencing at the siren, any and all crime (including murder) will be legal for 12 continuous hours. Police, fire, and Emergency Medical services will be unavailable until tomorrow morning at 7:00 a.m, when the purge concludes. Blessed be our new founding fathers—”

“Blah, blah, blah… we get it. Same shit every year.” Pansy sighed dramatically through the phone, her tone dripping with annoyance. You could tell she was rolling her eyes, and you didn’t need to see her to know she was slouched lazily somewhere. 

Not much later, the ominous, bone-chilling sirens blared violently through the entire city, blasting through the walls and echoing in the still-empty streets. The all so familiar sound never failed to give you goosebumps all over your stiffened body, instantly raising your heartbeat. You briefly closed your eyes, trying to steady your racing heart as you struggled to control your shaky breathing. 

“Hellooo? Are you still there or have you been murdered already?” Pansy joked with a taunting laugh. Your eyes snapped open, her static-filled voice dragging you back to reality, and her humorous tone nearly making you forget the reality of this cruel night. 

Because it wasn’t just any regular night— it was Purge Night. The one night you’d been dreading all year, every year, in which all crime becomes legal for twelve long hours. Logically, you were well aware that you had nothing to fear. Your parents were successful entrepreneurs with plenty of money to afford the most advanced security equipment, keeping you safe from any outside danger.

Yes, to protect you, and only you. Not them— they were out at a purge party, the details of which you didn’t even want to know, shamelessly networking with other high-profile elites while the poor were brutally murdered in the streets surrounding them. Everything about this night gave you a sickening feeling in your stomach. But of course, you knew it would be fine. All you had to do was survive— survive in your mansion, surrounded by unbreachable security. Nothing was going to happen. 

“Yeah, yeah, very funny.” you responded, your voice tinged with irritation as you hurried from your bedroom down the wooden stairs to the security room, figuring that if you could check the cameras around the house, it might calm you down a bit. You couldn’t shake the feeling of needing to tiptoe carefully down each step, as though someone might hear you— which was ridiculous, considering how large and heavily secured the house was. 

The eerily quiet house was broken by the first distant, chilling screams of pure terror from outside, making you grimace as you opened the creaky door to the small room, your eyes instantly squinting at the many bright screens that made your eyes burn. 

“It’s just… I hope this night will be over soon, that’s all.” you continued, one hand holding the phone close to your ear while your eyes fleetingly scanned over the security cameras, which were strategically placed to cover every corner outside the house. 

“Oh please, don’t be such a scaredy-cat! Every year it goes just fine, so this year will be no different. When has anything…” Pansy chattered in her usual attempt to comfort you, completely unaware that her words were only doing the opposite, when her voice slowly faded away into the background and your eyes narrowed at one of the top-right screens, which was focused on your front door. What the fuck?

With your heart nearly pounding out of your chest and your hand shakily gripping the phone, you inched closer to the screen, moving as slowly as possible, almost as if the slowness would somehow alter the nightmare playing out before you. A sudden coldness washed over you, your eyes rapidly blinking. No, no, no… this can’t be happening. 

On the pixelated, dark screen, you saw six masked men standing in front of your door, their heads tilted as they stared right at the cameras. You felt lightheaded, your left hand reaching up to lightly clasp your throat, the panic threatening to overwhelm you once you noticed the various weapons they were holding— baseball bats, knives, axes, and god knows what else.

“P—pansy… I, uh… there are people standing in front of my door…” you stammered shakily, still staring at the screen, your body frozen in place with your hand gripping the phone so tightly that your knuckles turned white and your breathing became ragged and uneven. 

“Oh, they’re probably just trying to scare you, babe. I mean, come on, they can’t even come in for fuck’s sake!” she let out a mocking laugh as the chaotic thoughts in your head raced a hundred miles an hour, leaving you paralysed with uncertainty. 

“Pansy, what the fu— you know what? Forget it.” you snapped, your trembling fingers tapping frantically at the screen before finally ending the call, frustrated at not being taken seriously by your best friend— though, to be fair, when had she ever? 

You hastily slipped your phone into your back pocket, already dreading the snarky text she was sure to send you for ending the call, before shifting your attention back to the screen. One of the men removed his mask, prompting you to move even closer with narrowed eyes, your forehead nearly touching the cold glass. 

“Good evening.” he called out in a stoic, chilling voice, his shiny black hair neatly styled, and his stance tall, commanding and unmistakably intimidating. 

“Sorry to bother you at this ungodly hour, but let me kindly introduce myself. My name is Tom, and these guys— they are my friends.” The scene you were intently staring at filled you with pure terror— this unknown man named Tom, surrounded by men in masks, each carrying weapons that could easily kill you, weapons that were already completely soaked in blood, the dark droplets dripping ominously onto your front porch. 

“This can go one of two ways; you simply let us in, and we will steal— sorry, I mean take whatever we desire, and then, we leave! Or…  we can do this the hard way. But I can assure you, you will not survive the latter.” His tone was almost amused as he finished speaking, and through the grainy pixels, you could see a controlled, sinister smile spreading across his pale face. 

“Do not think you are invincible. We can enter any home we want. And we will want, as wanting is our will on this fine purge night. Do not force us to hurt you.”

His menacing words sent tingles across your skin, all the muscles in your body tightening. And for a good ten minutes, they did nothing but stand there, staring straight into the camera, waiting—expecting—for you to open the door for them. 

It was a chilling sight. Almost as if you were staring at a photograph, the men stood completely still, their blood-covered hands tightly gripping their equally blood-soaked weapons, knowing your blood would be next to splatter across them, mixing with that of other poor, helpless victims. 

When they realised you weren’t going to open the door, Tom gave his men a quick signal, waving his finger in the air, which caused you to cock your head in both curiosity and unease.

“Alright then.” He said, the sinister smile on his face growing wider. But it was fine. You knew they couldn’t come inside anyway. Your house was so securely protected, there was no way they could come in and— Is that a fucking blowtorch? 

“Yes, we are prepared. And you— oh, you chose the wrong option.” Tom coldly stated as if he could read your mind, dragging the words in a chilling tone. Two of his men quickly got to work, the blowtorch slowly cutting through the thick metal doors, meanwhile, Tom continued to stare directly at the camera, his evil, dark smile never faltering, his soulless eyes not blinking once.

“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck.” This was when real panic set in, your eyes flickering with pure terror as you slowly backed away from the screens, gripping whatever furniture was nearby to steady yourself. You hurried out of the room, realising this was the time to hide.

Quickly but silently running up the stairs again, you heard the agonising sound of the blowtorch cutting through the metal, sending shivers all over your body and urging you to move faster. 

You burst into your room, breathless, slamming the door behind you and you panickedly scanned the small space, frantically searching for the best hiding spot. There weren’t many options, but the closet seemed like your only chance, so without hesitation, you flung the door open, stepped inside, and crouched down, wrapping your trembling arms tightly around your knees. 

“It’ll be fine, it’ll be fine, it’ll be fine.” You kept repeating to yourself in a quiet, trembling voice, desperately trying to gaslight yourself into believing it. But who the fuck are you kidding? They were inevitably coming in, and then… well, you didn’t even want to think about it.

You gasped loudly at the sudden sound of a loud bang, followed by distant voices and approaching footsteps downstairs. Nibbling on your bottom lip and one hand clutching your throat, you struggled to calm your ragged breathing, but hoping to make out the conversation happening downstairs— although you weren’t even sure if you wanted to hear it in the first place. 

“We are coming, aha! And we will find you, you little fucking bitch” an unfamiliar voice taunted from down the stairs followed by a menacing laugh, clearly relishing the undeniable fear they were instilling in you as the footsteps and faint chatter grew louder with every passing second.

“Mattheo, control yourself. Search for the girl downstairs, and Theo, you check upstairs. The rest of us will take whatever is valuable and leave for the next house.” You heared Tom instruct two of his men, his voice stern and cold, before adding, “Oh, and whatever you do, make it as painful as possible. I want her to suffer.” 

Goosebumps covered your entire body hearing the chilling words, and you could tell that these guys didn’t fuck around. Everything about them was incredibly organised and prepared. This wasn’t their first time purging. No, they knew exactly what they were doing.

Heavy, resolute footsteps then made their way up the stairs, each deep step resonating through the house, making the silence feel like it was closing it. Theo. There was no way out of this. The only thing you could do was pray that he wouldn’t find you. But deep down, you knew he would. 

“You can’t hide from me, piccola.” a deep, husky voice teased, his voice slightly muffled by the mask he wore. It surprised you to hear a foreign accent— Italian, you guessed. And fuck, you could punch yourself in the face right now for finding it… hot. 

The steps grew louder, tantalisingly slow, until his footsteps reached your room. Your hand flew to your mouth to keep yourself quiet, your brows furrowed as you squeezed your eyes shut, focusing on steadying your breath. Your heart beat out of your chest, and you worried it was beating loud enough for him to hear. 

Then it was quiet. No sounds. You swallowed, your mouth feeling dry with tears brimming at your waterline, and you gasped when you suddenly heard his voice so close to you. Thank fucking god you still had your mouth covered. 

“You’re here, aren’t you?” He said in a dark, knowing manner, and the only thing you could do at this very moment was repeat ‘please don’t find me’ in your head while only hoping your death would be less painful than Tom had ordered it to be. “I know you are...” 

The closet door then abruptly swung open, causing you to let out a loud, surprised gasp. The tears you had so desperately tried to suppress now uncontrollably streamed down your cheeks as your head shot up. Soft ‘no’s slipped from your lips when he grabbed you by the arm and aggressively pulled you out of the closet, the words barely audible and you panickedly shook your head, feeling lightheaded due to pure fear. 

“Shut up, cazzo.” he muttered irritably as he threw you on your bed with exasperated aggression. And you immediately complied— not only because he asked you to, but because you didn’t want Matthew to hear you, knowing that Theo had found you, worried of what he might do to you. Matthew… Was his name even Matthew? 

He stood still before you, and for the first time, you took him in, scanning him from head to toe as his imposing, tall frame loomed over you, casting a shadow over where you sat on the bed.

A white mask fully covered his face, and in his right hand, he held a bloody, sharp knife, causing you to gulp in fear. Oh, he looked fucking terrifying— but there was something else, something other than fear deep inside of you. A feeling you desperately tried to suppress. A feeling you felt ashamed to feel. A feeling you could not bring yourself to admit. 

“Huh.” he commented, his head tilting slightly to the left. “Tom didn’t tell me you were such a pretty little thing.” he reached his hand out, his thumb brushing over your cheek, causing you to instinctively pull away, stiffening under his touch. 

“Così carina.” he chuckled mockingly, and your eyes were drawn to his hand that was expertly spinning the knife. His other hand then abruptly gripped your hair, making you gasp, and he slightly tilted your head to expose your neck. 

From your peripheral vision, you could see the bloody knife drawing closer to your neck, making you instantly shut your eyes with furrowed brows, knowing this was it. 

“Can’t wait to see these white sheets turn red.” Theo taunted, but you were shaking, crying and nervously biting down on your lip so hard that blood welled up, waiting for the moment you finally felt the sharp knife against your delicate skin.

And then you did. You felt the cold blade lightly dig into the skin of your neck, the sharp, stinging sensation causing you to tightly grip the sheets, followed by fresh, crimson droplets of blood slowly trickling down your skin— but then he stopped.

“Hm. You know what, bella?” Theo paused for a moment, crouching down to get on eye level with you. The closer he got to you, the faster your heart raced, your whole body heating up with a mix of fear and something else. The deep sense of guilt you felt for feeling… this way gnawed at you from the inside. 

“I might just have other plans for you.” Your head snapped toward him, and you hissed at the fresh cut stretching open, your hand instinctively reaching to the wound, carefully dabbing your fingers on the blood still trickling out.

“You wanna live?” He questioned, and you reluctantly nodded, still unable to shake off the feeling of unease, even as a slight sense of relief—or maybe hope— began to grow inside of you. 

“Then I advise you to get on your knees before I change my mind.” You blinked rapidly, unsure if you heard him correctly. Surely not. 

“I— what?” You stammered, breathing in so fast you nearly choked on air as your heart pounded out of your chest. 

“Oh, you heard me.” He rose to his feet, and your eyes intently followed his every movement. The way the moonlight seeped through the blinds illuminated him, and for the first time, you could clearly see his ocean-blue eyes gazing down at you with intense focus— the only feature of his face that was visible through the mask. 

He reached the knife out again, causing you to flinch, but this time he pressed it under your chin to lift your head, the pointy end digging into your soft skin.

“You don’t think I noticed?” he began, and you sat frozen, knowing that a single movement would press the knife deep into your skin. 

“You don’t think I noticed the way you looked at me with those pretty eyes?” You raised an eyebrow in puzzlement, unsure of what he was hinting at, and you absolutely hated this— the vagueness of his words. You hated having to guess what he meant. It made you anxious. 

“I have purged a lot of people, bella. And there is one thing aaall of them have in common— they all have this same, fearful look in their eyes.” he continued, and it made you wonder what he saw in yours. 

“But you… cazzo. With you, I see something else sparkling in those pupils.” The way the mask muffled his voice made you unconsciously lean in closer to hear him better, and he did the same, but for an entirely different reason, until you were merely inches apart. It was a strange observation to make in such a moment like this, but oddly enough, he smelt nice, very nice. A pleasant, musky cologne with the undertone of cigarettes filled your senses. 

“With you I see… lust, yearning, desperation.” he whispered into your ear, the knife digging deeper into your skin, yet still not deep enough to draw blood. Your eyes shot wide open before locking with his, and you felt caught. He hit the hammer right on the nail. 

“Go on, tell me I’m fuckin’ wrong.” but you couldn’t. You couldn’t tell him he was wrong. Because he wasn’t. Your eyes darted nervously around the room, unable to meet those intense, piercing eyes as the ache between your legs only grew stronger. 

“Yeah… that’s what I thought. Bet your panties are soaked already, aren’t they?” you heard a muffled, condescending chuckle coming from under his mask as he slowly twisted the knife under your chin. You so desperately wanted to bite back, to defend yourself, to tell him that he was being ridiculous— but the words were stuck in your throat.

“So… back to where we were.” he growled as he unbuckled his belt and pushed his pants down, suddenly remembering Matthew wandering around downstairs and being able to walk in at any time, causing him to rush. 

“C’mon sweetheart. I need to feel those pretty lips wrapped around me if you want to live, a’ight? If Mattheo finds us, it’s over for you.” Ohhhh, Mattheo… right, right.

You hesitantly walked over to him before getting on your knees right in front of him— right in front of his already hard erection trapped in his boxers, desperately wanting to escape as the tip formed a wet patch of precum on the fabric. 

“Well… you know I could just kick you in the balls right now and run away?” There it finally was— the words that had been stuck in your throat, and the boldness inside of you that had finally come free. It was that unexpectedly tender demeanour of his emerging in brief moments, causing you to see him in a humane light, which stilled your fears. 

He scoffed before aggressively gripping your hair and pulling your head back, causing you to hiss at the fresh wound on your neck stinging at the movement. He drew closer to you before suddenly holding the knife to your throat again, the softness you’d glimpsed earlier vanishing in an instant.

“Oh yeah? You don’t think I’m gonna find you and cut you open? Go for it. Give it a try. Let’s see how that ends.” he warned in a low, menacing tone, your brows furrowing as you clenched your teeth, staring right into his narrowed eyes. 

“Acting as if you aren’t practically begging to suck me off right now, tsk. Hurry the fuck up.” he ordered in a harsh tone, abruptly letting go of your hair and retracting the knife from your throat.

Realising you had no other choice but to follow his orders, you stared up at his masked face, before your gaze fell on his boxers. You could tell he was big just from the imprint through the thin fabric— oh, there was no doubt in that. Reluctantly, you drew your head closer to his crotch, teasingly using your teeth to pull the waistband of his boxers down before slowly sliding them off. 

“See, I knew you were a fucking slut.” he growled, his amusement evident as his erection sprang free against his toned abs, precum glistening at the tip. Oh, well fuck. He was indeed huge, causing your eyes to widen momentarily as you swallowed hard. You glanced back up at him one more time, and he gave you a sharp nod, his hand on the back of your head pressing insistently, urging you closer. 

Your head slowly inched closer to his intimidatingly large cock, and you started with placing soft kitten licks on the tip, tasting the salty precum, when suddenly a mischievous smile began to curve your glossed lips. In one swift, unexpected motion, you wrapped your mouth around his throbbing length, firmly pressing your teeth into the skin while at the same time your hand darted to his balls, your sharp nails digging deep into the sensitive flesh. 

“That fuckin’ hurts, you bitch. Cazzo!” Theo cursed, aggressively pushing you back until you hit the bed, yet the same mischievous smile on your face only widened. It confused him how the terrified, weak girl he saw earlier had transformed into… this. 

“Didn’t expect you to be such a fucking pussy.” you challenged him, fire burning in your eyes. Not because you wanted to die, but because deep down you knew you weren’t going to. If he wanted to kill you, he would’ve done that already. With the precum leaking from his painfully hard erection right in front of you, you knew the only thing on his mind was finding his release. He was a man after all— simple, driven by his desires.

“You better shut that little mouth—” 

“Or what? You're gonna threaten me again with that stupid little knife—” before you could even finish your sentence, he grabbed you by the hair, yanking you roughly towards him, his cock forcing its way into your mouth. The tip hit the back of your throat instantly, triggering your gag reflex as you struggled to breathe around his thick, aching erection. He quickly set a brutal rhythm, bucking his hips aggressively into your mouth, and you felt your eyes well with tears, saliva running down your chin. 

“If you stop, I’ll make you fucking regret it.” His hand gripped your hair in a tight ponytail, pulling you to meet his thrusts as he relentlessly fucked your mouth. Gagging sounds filled the room as he forced your head down as far as possible, groaning at the sight beneath him— a sight that could so easily make him come already.

“You wanted this from the start, huh? Such a pathetic—” Theo’s sentence was then abruptly cut off when the door suddenly swung open and slammed against the wall, causing you both to freeze and stare, wide-eyed and horrified. A chill ran down your spine as you noticed another masked man standing in the doorway, holding a blood-soaked baseball bat while casually leaning against the doorframe. Oh no.  

“Well, well, well… look what we have here. You really thought I wouldn’t find out, Theodore? How cute.” 

Mattheo. 

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

a/n: thank you sm for reading ^_^!!!!!!! this was supposed to be one long fic but i decided to cut in into two (or maybe more if needed) parts! im not sure when the next part will be posted but ill try to work on it soon !!! <3

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The Fruit of Your Labour

Pairing: Mattheo Riddle x Reader

Wordcount: 1k

Summary: After months of searching, you finally find Mattheo.

It’s been months. Months since you’ve last seen your boyfriend. Months spent on trying to track Mattheo down. And finally, you’ve found him.

You stand on the porch of a small house, staring at the front door. You chew your bottom lip raw, your hands forming fists — crinkling the note with the house’s address in your hand. You shove it into your pocket.

Your heart races. You haven’t seen Mattheo in so long. So many emotions and thoughts have gone through you since he disappeared. You had been scared, wondering what had happened to him. And after finding out that he had run away, you were left with one word in particular running through your head.

Why? Why would Mattheo leave? Why would he leave Hogwarts, his friends, you?

Though you are afraid Mattheo will turn you away at the door, you curl your hand into a fist, about to knock, when suddenly the door creaks open.

Arm falling to the side, you stare at the man before you. His warm brown eyes look at you in the same way. 

Mattheo looks almost the same, except that there are bangs under his eyes and his scar has been covered by what you assume is magic.

He speaks your name, snapping you out of your trance.

“Mattheo.. Mattheo." You speak his name almost unbelievingly. You want to jump into his arms and also slap him. “You left.”

He wears his guilt on his face. Good.

“I-I can explain,” Mattheo says, reaching out for you. You think he’s about to hug you, but instead, he pulls you into the house and shuts the door behind you.

“Does anyone else know you’re here? Where I am?” He sounds frantic and his body language shows it.

You shake your head. “No. As soon as I found out about your whereabouts, I came here.” You grab the note in your pocket and show it to Mattheo as some sort of pathetic show for proof.

He snatches it from you and scans the writing before throwing the paper into the fireplace.

“You can’t tell anybody about me,” he says.

Your brows furrow and your lips form a frown. “Why not?”

Mattheo sighs, though his gaze softens into something more familiar. He pulls you towards him and wraps his arms around your frame. Despite yourself, you melt into Mattheo’s embrace.

“You left,” You whisper against his chest.

“I know,” he whispers back.

You both pull away from each other and he gestures towards the couch. You sit down.

“I’m Voldemort’s son.”

You stare up at him, dumbfounded. It takes a moment for you to process those words. “What?”

He sighs again and awkwardly scratches the back of his head. “Yeah…”

You shake your head, unbelieving, though you know Mattheo wouldn’t joke at a time like this. “But your parents are… Bellatrix and Rodolphus.”

Suddenly, you remember all those times you would write Mattheo’s name in your diary. Mattheo Lestrange Black.

“I didn’t believe it as well. Turns out my mom had a thing going on with the Dark Lord.” Mattheo takes a seat next to you. “Voldemort suddenly found out that I was technically his son a few months ago, and he wanted to kill me. My parents helped me run away before he actually hurt me,” he explains nervously, and glances at you.

You take in everything Mattheo says, on guard.

“How long will you be here for?” You ask, grasping his pale hand and giving it a squeeze.

Mattheo shrugs and interlocks your fingers with his. “I don’t know. Hopefully when he dies.”

The Order of the Phoenix. You want to suddenly tell Mattheo all about it, but somehow keep your mouth shut.

You give his hand another reassuring squeeze.

“Are you going to leave again? Now that I know where you are.”

Mattheo shakes his head. “I don’t want to, and I don’t want to leave you again.”

You can’t help but smile at his words. You feel tears prick the corners of your eyes but quickly wipe them away. “Everyone was so worried about you,” you say, hoping Mattheo couldn’t hear the tremble that laced your words.

His eyes light up as you mention the others. “How are they doing?”

“Everyone was worried when you first left,” You repeat. “I haven’t really been keeping up with the others all that much, if I’m being honest.”

Mattheo nods.

“What if he finds you?” You can’t help but ask. The ‘he’ in questions doesn’t have to be specified.

You listen to the crackling of the fire as Mattheo thinks for a moment. “There are protective charms covering this area. If Voldemort or one of his cronies tries, I’ll be informed. So, I’ll have some extra time to get away.”

Oh. That’s a bit of a relief to hear. You relax and let yourself be held by Mattheo. Soon, you find yourself sitting sideways atop his lap.

“I really missed you,” he says, pressing his face against your neck.

“I did too.” You run your fingers through Mattheo’s dark hair, and gently grip it to force his face back. You press a kiss to his lips, which he returns. He wraps one hand around your waist, bringing you closer, while the other rests on one of your legs. You in turn wrap your arms around Mattheos neck, deepening the kiss.

You wish you could stay like this forever, held in the arms of the person you loved. Love. You  realize you haven't told Mattheo you love him yet.

You break the kiss and whisper near his lips, “I love you, Mattheo.”

He lets out a small breath and your heart skips a beat. “I love you too.”

Mattheo presses another kiss to your lips, and you respond to it in delight. You both press against each other, perhaps in the hope that you’ll somehow be stuck together.

“Stay the night,” Mattheo says breathlessly, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

You would stay with Mattheo forever if you could. But you know that you’ll eventually have to leave so that your family wouldn’t worry. So, you’ll enjoy the secretive time you have with him for now, until he’s safe from the danger that confines him.

a/n: I don't think Tom would be thrilled at the news of having a child, and would view them as a sort of competition, and would end up killing them. So, that kind of inspired me to write this fic. The reader is going to end this war for her man lol🤪 divider creds: @saradika

Touches

Mattheo Riddle:

No matter where you are, Mattheo loves touching you. Pressing kisses onto your neck, placing his hand on your thigh in class, you atop his lap in the common room.

When walking together, Mattheo loves to have an arm wrapped around you, whether it's on your hip, waist or slung around you shoulder, it doesn't matter; Mattheo just needs to know that your there.

Mattheo loves when you play with his hair. It gives him this feeling of safety and domesticity.

Tom Riddle:

Tom is more reserved with his touches when in public, but does enjoy interlocking his hand with yours when walking around Hogwarts. Tom claims it's so you don't try to wander off without him knowing.

He loves it when you run your fingers through his hair, and scratch at his scalp when he's stressed with his studies. It calms Tom down and gives him a moment of reprieve from his school work.

Tom does enjoying cuddling as well. He likes to have your head resting atop his chest, while one of his hands are wrapped around you, and another is wrapped around a book you're reading together. Once you're both done a page, you'll flip to the next page, since both of Tom's hands are occupied.

Theodore Nott:

Every time Theo sees you, he engulfs you in a hug, surrounding your nose with the smell of cigarettes and lime. He cranes his neck down so he can press a lingering kiss on your forehead.

You're surrounded by Theo's touch; his lips, hands, and chest pressed to yours, and you find that you don't hate it.

During mornings, Theo loves to wrap his arms around you, - pulling you back against his chest - and press small kisses to the area where your shoulder and neck connect, nuzzling into it.

When high, Theo likes to rest his head on your stomach while you gently run your hands through his hair.

Making out with them

Mattheo Riddle

His pupils are blown wide with lust, and the look that he's giving you is making you go crazy.

One of his hands are wrapped around your throat to keep you in place and the other digs into the flesh of your butt.

Between heavy kisses he whispers about how insane you make him, how he'd do anything for you.

Theodore Nott

You're pulled onto Theo's lap, his hands around your waist, and your fingers dug into his brown hair.

His mouth tastes of cigarettes and lime, and once he bites into your bottom lip, copper.

He gives you a small, cocky grin as you pull away with a pout on your lips.

Tom Riddle

You're sat sideways atop Tom's lap. You're both sitting on a couch, and a book lays besides you both that Tom was reading before you'd come in to keep him company.

One of Tom's arms are wrapped around your waist to keep you from falling and the other on the back of your neck.

His hand soon makes its way up your head and is enveloped in your hair as he forces you to tilt your head back for him so that he can press his lips against your throat.

Sleeping with them

Mattheo Riddle

When sleeping together, Mattheo will pull you towards him so that your head is resting against his chest, and will slither a protective arm around your waist. You often find yourself falling asleep to his heartbeat.

He usually wakes up to a mouth full of your hair.

Mattheo loves it when you run your hand through his hair, and use your nails to scratch at his scalp. He usually quickly falls asleep when you do this.

Tom Riddle

Tom likes to watch you sleep. Well, he doesn't exactly like watching you sleep, but more so it feels like he has to.

Tom often gets nightmares about the bombings that happen in England, and there's one specific dream that haunts him.

He'll be walking around the rubble filled streets of London, searching for something. Tom will stumble of what he assumes to be a rock, but when he looks down, it's a hand that leads back to the rest of your body.

It's a terrifying sight that leads Tom to waking up. So yeah. He needs to watch the rise and fall of your chest to make sure that you haven't left him.

Tom Riddle x Reader x Mattheo Riddle Love Triangle Headcanons

Warnings/Includes: Tom & Mattheo are brothers, Fem!Reader, nsfw, toxicity, mentions of drugs and drinking, love triangle

There's no doubt that their both overprotective and possessive over you.

Tom likes to keep your company to himself when it comes to dates. He'll take you down to the chamber of secrets. You both have study dates where he tutors you on whatever class your having a problem with. He also likes to sit by the Black Lake with you.

Mattheo also likes to have dates with you at the Black Lake, and likes to swim in there rather then sitting around like Tom. He takes you to parties and likes to dance with you at them. You both also have study dates, but it's with you tutoring him instead because he was either high during the lesson, slept in, or he just wasn't paying attention during class.

Tom doesn't like to show that much physical affection in public, but might put his hand on your thigh when your both sitting down. But Mattheo loves having you sit down on his lap when you're both in the Slytherin common room, making out at parties, and usually has an arm around you when walking with you.

Mattheo loves seeing you wearing his shirts, whereas Tom likes to see you wearing his family ring.

Mattheo loves making Tom jealous and tries to get a rise out of him. Since they both share a dorm, Mattheo will purposefully be shirtless around Tom to show the scratch marks you left on his back after spending a night with you.

They'd both try to get you to admit that they're better than the other. Mattheo would fuck you hard, trying to get you to admit that Tom can't fuck you as good as he can, and Tom would focus on your pleasure, trying to get you to admit that Mattheo doesn't make you feel as good as he does.

They're both really jealous of each other. Mattheo is more sensitive out of the pair and may come to you for reassurance. But sometimes he may try to start a fight with you, flirting with another girl and then when you get jealous he'll get angry at you. Telling you that you have no right to be angry when you're fucking his brother. You'd got to Tom afterwards to vent and Tom wants to be angry at his brother for upsetting you - and he is -, but he also thinks about how you fighting with Mattheo can make you and Tom closer.

They both don't trust each other with you. Mattheo is scared that Tom will make you get the Dark Mark, and if Tom does, it might result in the biggest fight these two brothers have been in.

Between the drugs, partying, and drinking, Tom believes that Mattheo is a bad influence on you, that Mattheo won't take care of you like he can.

You'll have to choose between them both at some point, because their jealousy and paranoia over the other will get to them, and neither one of them will handle rejection from you well.

A/N: I haven't read the fic that Mattheo is from, so his parts were all based off of what information I could find online😭😭

I'm sorry if this isn't what you wanted but it's what i found on him.

Someone AI me Mattheo in a Slytherin rugby uni

bfb!mattheo who hears/sees tom fucking u and makes up a whole scenario where he can one up his brother while he staring from the crack in the door?

⊹ ࣪ ˖ boyfriend’s brother!mattheo watching you and tom through the door

warnings ; 18+ mdni, p in v, voyeurism, swearing

₊⊹ navigation ; bfb!mattheo ; au’s ; m.list

he shouldn’t be here. 

he knows that. knows it in the way his fingers curl into fists at his sides, in the way his chest tightens with something worse than anger, something uglier than hate. knows it in the way his breath is fucking shallow, standing there like a goddamn ghost outside tom’s bedroom door, the sliver of space between the wood and the frame just big enough to see you.

and fuck—he wishes he couldn’t. wishes he could turn around, pretend he never heard the first telltale sounds, never saw the way your body moved beneath his brother, never had to watch you like this, spread out, panting, moaning his fucking name. tom. like you meant it.

his jaw clenches as he watches, eyes narrowing, assessing, criticizing. tom's movements are too stiff, too controlled, too fucking careful, like he’s handling glass instead of a girl who needs to be ruined.

his fingers twitch at his sides. tom’s grip on your waist is all wrong. it’s tight, but not tight enough—like he doesn’t even fucking realize what he has in his hands. your hips don’t lift high enough, your legs aren’t spread the way they should be. you need to be tilted forward just a little more—just enough to hit that one spot that makes your breath hitch and your fingers claw at the sheets. tom won’t do it. tom doesn’t know. mattheo wants to fucking kill him for it.

pathetic.

he drags his tongue across his teeth, biting down on his cheek so hard he swears he tastes blood. he could do it better. he would do it better. he’d ruin you. have you trembling, crying his fucking name instead. make you feel it in your bones, make you crave him like sin.

his nails dig into his palms. tom’s voice is steady, collected, not even a goddamn growl in his throat. not desperate. mattheo hates him for it. he hates him for touching you without the kind of obsession that would drive a man mad.

he exhales sharply, his hand dragging down his face, trying to fight off the sick, burning jealousy twisting in his gut. it’s embarrassing, really, standing here, watching, but he can’t help himself. because the thought won’t leave his head—how much better he could make you feel.  

he wonders what you’d sound like if it was him instead. if you’d gasp the same way, if you’d arch the same way. if you’d look back at him with that dazed, hazy expression, lips parted, cheeks flushed, body trembling. he bets you would. he bets you’d look even prettier falling apart for him. bets he could make you shake, make you cry, make you forget every single fucking thing about his brother.

his cock throbs at the thought, and he lets out a sharp exhale, pressing his forehead against the wall, trying to will the heat away. he should leave. he should fucking leave.

but then he hears you whimper, soft and broken, and he sees the way tom barely reacts, the way he doesn’t even acknowledge what a fucking gift he’s been given, and something inside him snaps.

fucking tom. doesn’t deserve you.  

he licks his lips, dragging his teeth over the lower one, and exhales slowly. 

one day, he tells himself, he’s going to ruin you. one day, he’s going to show you exactly what you’ve been missing. and when that day comes, you’ll forget tom riddle ever fucking existed.

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

I'm considering writing a Harry Potter x TVDU au crossover. But I'm having kinda a hard time on which one I should write, but I have 2 ideas. (They both are Mattheo Riddle and Harry Potter fanfics. They will be posted on my wattpad as well _lazybitch_)

The first one is called Swan Lake, where Odette, who is the adopted daughter of Klaus Mikaelson and Hayley Marshall has a doppelganger named Odile, who was very close with Voldemort during their time at Hogwarts. (inspired by the ballet Swan Lake)

or

The second one is called Beauty and the Beast, in which Klaus and Hayley's adopted daughter, Estelle, is the daughter of two death eaters who were killed by Voldemort. In her third and fifth years, she catches the eye of the chosen one and her best friend's twin brother.

mattheo riddle x pregnant!fem!reader ???

The scenario: You hid your pregnancy from him because you were afraid he would order you to abort your pregnancy because you were still 'students'...:(

A Miracle

a/n: I’ve been taking a small breaking from writing but I’m trying to get back into the grove. Hope y’all enjoy.

Warnings: talk of forced abortion, pregnancy, birth, teen pregnancy, allusions to smut

Y/n couldn’t stop herself from shaking as she sat on her boyfriend, Mattheo Riddle’s bed. He stared down at her, a pained expression on his face. Her heart pounded in her chest like a she was running. Tears threatened to explode from her eyes like a bomb. Slowly Mattheo lowered himself down and kneeled right in front of her.

“Princess… why didn’t you tell me?” Mattheo pondered softly as if speaking to a frightened doe. In many ways you were his doe, with your big e/c eyes and pretty smile. “I was scared.” You muttered. He placed his slightly roughened hands on the bed at her side.

“Why?” You couldn’t answer. Tears poured down your face. His hands instinctively wiped the gushing tears.

“Why princess?” Mattheo repeated.

“I was scared you would make me…. Make me get rid of them.” Mattheo froze, his puppy brown eyes falling. His princess thought he’d make them get rid of their baby? His heart shattered as he saw the pure terror in her eyes.

“Princess…” Mattheo slowly brought his hands to your cheek, wiping the steady stream of tears flowing from your eyes. Mattheo would never make you get rid of your baby.

This baby was a part your you, a part of him, a part of them. It was a sign of their love, a love that Mattheo thought he’d be denied. As the son of the Dark Lord, he never expected to fall in love. Much less with you, his perfect girl.

Who always helped the younger Slytherins, always gave everyone the prettiest smile, always happy with your pretty doe eyes.

Mattheo never thought you’d love him, that he was capable of being loved. But here you were, sobbing on his bed, pregnant… pregnant with his baby.

Mattheo knew the risks of having sex without a condom, normally he was so good at pulling out with they went without one. However after he finally beat Potter in the match he couldn’t keep his hands off you. The both of you hand no control over yourselves and didn’t care.

“What do you wanna do?” Mattheo voiced firmly. He needed to keep you steady.

“I’m scared Matty, I dunno know what I wanna do.” You cried softly, hands buried in his sheets. Mattheo quickly brought you into a tight comforting hug. He rubbed her back in soft circles.

“Whatever you want, we’re gonna do it together.” Mattheo mumbled softly into her ear. Y/n sniffled softly as she hugged him tightly.

In the end the pair kept the baby, and in nine months they had a beautiful baby girl. Helga Riddle and she was their miracle.

Hello, I was the one who sent the request about king!sirius having many concubines. I really like your writing on it, and it fits my imagination🥺🫶🏻.

If possible, I would like to ask for another request. This time it's about Matteo Riddle. Mattheo was told to remarry by his father, Tom, because his wife had not produced a son. Even though his wife never gave birth to a son, Mattheo had a daughter who was already a teenager. When told to remarry, Mattheo immediately became angry with his father, because he only loved his wife, and insisted that his daughter was his heir. Mattheo will 'eliminate' anyone who dares to 'remove' his daughter from her status and right as heir.

By the way, may I be 🩰 Anon

A Fathers Love

a/n : Hope you enjoy, but what is an anon? I’m relatively new to all this. Also I changed the daughter from a teen to like 12.

Warnings : period misogyny, almost deadly child birth and pregnancy, allusion to smut, allusions to Reader having a more fragile body, Mattheo and Reader having an arranged marriage

Anon 🩰

Royal au

Matthew Riddle x Fem! Reader

Mattheo had never thought he’d glared so fiercely before. His father, Tom Riddle, the one who usurped the throne for his great grandfather, now know as King Voldemort stared down at him with mild interest. Mattheo his only heir had one child. That child was the Princess Morgana.

Mattheo and his wife, the Lady Y/n Riddle had one child. Lady Y/n’s body wasn’t meant for such strenuous things. With how bad her pregnancy was they assumed that her child would be a boy.

After a long and difficult labor, Y/n battling for her and her child’s life, Morgana was born. Y/n’s recovery was a long and challenging journey, her healer informed her it would be against her if she bore another child. Y/n would stay up late at night with her darling daughter in her arms, fearful her father would wish her a boy.

But Mattheo doted on his daughter every chance he could. He sat with her in the darkness of her room to “protect” her from monsters. He’d duel with wooden swords with her. He loved his beautiful Y/n for gifting him with such a wonderful child.

The King Voldemort however was not pleased. The women he chose to be his sons bride was worthless. She hadn’t provided a male heir, she had failed at her one job as his son’s wife. So he found a solution.

“Are you being serious Father?” Mattheo’s voice rang through the throne room. His father’s advisors turned away, not wanting to face the princes wrath.

“Lady Daphne would make an excellent wife, she would give you sons.” Mattheo’s eyes raged with fury at his father’s words. How dare he! He had no right.

“I have no need for sons, I have my heir!” Mattheo voiced his tone bordering a scream. Voldemort rolled his snake eyes and shrugged.

“You have a daughter, a girl unfit to rule.”

“My daughter is my heir!”

The room went dead silent. It was unheard of for a father to allow his daughter to be his heir. Mattheo remembered every moment from his daughter creation to now. Mattheo didn’t make love to Y/n on the night of there marriage. He wanted her love before he force a child into her.

For months the pair grew their relationship, and then they decided they wanted a child. Mattheo was fearful, he knew his wife well enough to see her lose her breath so easily, to see her fatigue in the cold.

When both Y/n and Morgana survived, Mattheo made a vow. That for his wife’s hard labor his child would sit his throne. His daughter would be queen one day. Morgana grew to be a mommy’s girl with no doubt in his mind. Although Morgana looked and acted so similar to Mattheo, she was never far from her mothers side.

“I will not remarry, my wife is very much alive!” Mattheo roared. Voldemort stood from his throne as Matthe stepped forward.

“I’m saying divorce your wife, send Morgana away with her and give this kingdom a true heir!” Mattheo froze on the spot. Leave Y/n… leave Morgana. Mattheo didn’t allow another word and quickly left the room. He ignored his fathers shouts for him as he marched outside.

Mattheo walked outside and saw them. His darling wife and daughter played in the meadow around the castle. Y/n sat braiding flowers into a crown as Morgana chased a butterfly. Y/n’s green dress blended into the greenery around her. Morgana’s silver dress sparkled brightly as she chased the orange butterfly.

Mattheo slowly walked over to Y/n and tackled her into the ground. Y/n shrieked in surprise as Mattheo began to litter kisses all over her neck and face.

“Mattheo!”Y/ n squealed happily. Mattheo brought his wife into his lap holding gently onto her waist. Mattheo stared into Y/n’s dazzling e/c eyes. Y/n stared at her husbands face for a while, she gently cupped his cheek.

“What’s wrong my love, you’re troubled.” Mattheo leaned into her touch. Her hands were so delicate.

“I am fine darling, I promise.” Y/n nodded softly deciding not to pry. She placed the flower crown on his head with a smile.

“Papa! Mama! Look what I’ve caught!” Morgana yelled as she plopped down next to her mother. Y/n gently brought Morgana closer and placed a crown on her head.

“What is it Morgana?” Morgana’s hands slowly opened to reveal the orange butterfly in her hands. The butterfly crawled into Y/n’s outreached hand. There was a small tear in its wing.

“Can you fix him Mama?” Y/n giggled softly.

“How do you know he’s a he?”

Morgana pouted softly, her brows furring. She nuzzled into Y/n and she placed her mother’s crown on her head.

“Yes I can fix him.” Y/n’s hands began to glow softly. The butterfly began to glow, then his wing was perfectly clear. The butterfly flew away quickly and Morgana stared at it in awe. Mattheo stared at his lovely little family.

“My daughter will be queen, I will make sure of that, no one will challenge you my darling.” Mattheo thought as he stared at his daughter.