Mattheo Riddle X Reader - Blog Posts

MY NEW GIRLFRIEND Y’ALL, STAY BACK

it’s so pretty <3333

FIGURE SKATER READER AU ᯓ★

Figure skater!reader is gentle. She's sweet, kind, and the most loving person you'll ever meet. Her heart is as soft as snow, yet warm like a fire on a winter day. Every move she makes embodies a quiet strength; she's grace in human form. While she might not actively seek attention, she gains it nonetheless, because everyone, even those with the coldest of hearts, are drawn to the sincerity in her eyes and the elegance with which she carries herself.

Huge thanks to @leona-hawthorne for helping me with the moodboard! You never fail to show your talent 🤍 And to @riddleshire for the wonderful idea!! I'm excited for when you write again!

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©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!

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.

good fucking morning to me and everyone else reading this masterpiece, because my humor is already on point after this 😼

theo and mattheo were sprawled on the couch next to each other, passing a joint between them. mattheo was completely naked and theo only had his concert tank top on - a tight and cropped little black thing that perfectly showed off the lean muscles of his torso. their legs were spread, mattheo's right one thrown over theo's left thigh, and their hands were on each other's cocks.

first of all, i’m imagining this and let me tell you, what a good image my brain made me see, thank you for that. second of all, i was expecting everything but not this (kinda surprised, but i’m not complaining at all). in fact, this just made more 🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️ than anything I NEED TO SEE THIS

"baaaaby," mattheo drawled, giving you a stupidly adorable grin and extending an arm towards you, making a grabby hand in your direction.

i just came to the conclusion that this reader lives my dream life, and now i’m proud of her but jealous :( i want mattheo to call me baby while he’s being taking care off :’)

they exchanged a look and simultaneously dropped their hands from their cocks.

theo's lips were parted, and mattheo was wetting his, taking shallow breaths through his mouth.

you write so well that i could totally see everything happening in my mind. please, this is so so so well executed 😫

your tongue swirled around, gathering his slickness, and you pulled away enough to spit it back, your fingers spreading the liquid along his entire length before diving back in.

she’s having her best meal and i’m here rotting in my bed, reading about her while she executes my dream, but it’s okay because it’s kira’s writing, so i can experience a part of it myself 😤

— pause because i need to talk about the smut; genuinely, i forgot to take screenshots of my favorite parts because everything was so fucking good. i was reading and squeezing my legs the entire time. the way they grabbed the reader’s hair and squeezed her throat had me BAWLING MY EYES OUT, and i was drooling because fuck you, the imagery is fucking perfect. i need both so bad

they were now lazily and sloppily making out, catching their own breaths after their intense orgasms.

his thumb rubbing soft circles on the flushed skin. they were adorable like that, and truthfully, you could watch them for hours.

they’re adorable, but i lowkey need to be included 👩‍💼

but you still had your arousal unattended to. both of them shifted their attention when you cleared your throat, identical smirks appearing on their lips when they saw your raised eyebrow. you definitely weren't leaving the dressing room any time soon.

kira, you CANNOT leave and leave me here. you better do something right NOW.

anyway (i’m mad) BUT THIS WAS SO GOOD, need them need them need them need them need them need them need them 😔😡

⋆౨ৎ bassist!reader helps drummer!mattheo and lead singer!theo unwind after a show

nav // aus / band au // more

finally writing for this au. couldn’t get this out of my head for a while now, and it’s also my first time properly writing a threesome of any kind, so hopefully you enjoy <3

warnings: 18+ mdni, drug use, oral threesome, blowjob turned rough, throat bulge, gagging, some spitting, masturbation (m receiving), mutual masturbation (m x m), bi mattheodore, praise, cursing

lorenzo went off somewhere again – probably to the tour bus to have fun with another groupie. you were just a little miffed about that, because you wanted to get some, enzo was the first to volunteer before the other two could get a word in, and now he was nowhere to be seen. you couldn’t be too mad at him, though – he’d always been a lighthead, in more ways than one.

you walked into your shared dressing room and were immediately greeted by a sight that wasn’t a surprise, yet never failed to amuse you. theo and mattheo were sprawled on the couch next to each other, passing a joint between them. mattheo was completely naked and theo only had his concert tank top on – a tight and cropped little black thing that perfectly showed off the lean muscles of his torso. their legs were spread, mattheo’s right one thrown over theo’s left thigh, and their hands were on each other’s cocks.

they lazily jerked each other off, unhurried and completely relaxed, the weed seemingly taking effect by that point. once the door behind you closed, both of them looked at you with cheeky, knowing smirks on their faces. theo blew out a small whiff of smoke and put out the joint against the table next to the couch, leaning further back into the plush surface.

"baaaaby," mattheo drawled, giving you a stupidly adorable grin and extending an arm towards you, making a grabby hand in your direction. you chuckled, shaking your head, and made a few slow steps towards the boys. they didn’t even think of stopping what they were doing, their hands still moving up and down on each other’s hard and, as you could notice under the dim lighting of the room, dripping cocks. you knew that they got especially horny under the influence, which amused you even more, but also gave you a perfect idea.

without a word, you knelt on the floor in front of them, and they perked up a bit, though their poses were still as relaxed as ever. they exchanged a look and simultaneously dropped their hands from their cocks. mattheo put his by his sides on the couch, and theo rested one on his stomach, the other one ending up on mattheo’s thigh. both of them gazed at you with as much hunger as their glassy eyes and widened pupils allowed; theo’s lips were parted, and mattheo was wetting his, taking shallow breaths through his mouth.

"cazzo, principessa… come sei dolce," theo murmured, a content smile quirking up his lips as your hands started kneading their thighs, approaching their aching cocks inch by inch. mattheo hummed in agreement, all of you having gotten used to theo’s italian by now and even starting to understand some stuff.

"you’re dolce," you answered, a teasing lilt to your voice, and theo chuckled in response, undoubtedly at your accent. his chuckle stuttered, turning into a low moan as your hands finally wrapped around their lengths, mattheo’s grunt joining him with more volume.

you didn’t spend too much time jerking them off since they did a pretty good job on that themselves – by the amount of precum leaking from their tips you could tell it wouldn’t take them too long to cum, and you wanted a taste before that happened. you scooted a bit to the right, mattheo being the first whose cock ended up in your mouth. your tongue swirled around, gathering his slickness, and you pulled away enough to spit it back, your fingers spreading the liquid along his entire length before diving back in.

"fuck," he breathed out, his hand loosely clutching the edge of the couch as his half-lidded eyes roamed over your face, fixated on your lips wrapped around him in the most enticing way. slowly, you started sucking, hollowing out your cheeks to provide more friction, while stroking theo’s dick at the same time. both of them were moaning above you, their hips twitching up every other second, and theo still had some sense in his hazy mind to caress mattheo’s thigh, which only made the latter’s pleasure more intense.

a couple of minutes later, when you started feeling theo getting restless, the movements of his hips growing a bit more sloppy, you pulled away from mattheo. he barely noticed, too lost in the world of bliss, especially since the stimulation never stopped, your hand coming in to take the place of your lips. you switched to the other side, finally taking theo’s cock into your mouth, which made him groan and impatiently grab your hair. you giggled but decided not to tease, since it was painfully obvious just how eager he was. you head started bobbing up and down as you sucked theo off, the sounds getting wetter and wetter from the amount of drool you produced due to theo being deliciously big. you choked a bit when his tip slipped into your throat, but you quickly adjusted – you were pretty used to his size already.

when you felt his cock starting to throb, you took it as a sign of him getting close, which prompted you to switch to mattheo again. a low, needy growl rumbled in his chest as he caught the sight of your pretty lips wrapped around him, his hips instantly rutting up, pushing his entire length right down your throat. you gagged again as you felt his thick cock stretching out your walls, and you were pretty sure that if you placed a hand on your throat, you’d feel his tip grinding against it from the inside. mattheo was very clearly impatient, his hand grabbing a fistful of your hair as he started shoving you up and down. he had always had a thing for throatfucking, and you didn’t mind at all, eagerly allowing him to use you as a means to get off.

theo was watching the scene through his thick eyelashes, moaning louder from time to time when your hand squeezed him just a bit tighter. when mattheo started getting close, he immediately caught that. without a word, his head turned to the side, and his hand made its way up mattheo’s body to the back of his head. theo pulled him into a messy kiss, his fingers getting tangled in mattheo’s curls, both of them groaning against each other’s lips. when you looked up, met by the sight of your boys passionately making out, you felt the heat that had been building up in your stomach increase tenfold, and you knew right that moment that you had to make them finish as soon as possible to take care of your needs too. you picked up the pace under mattheo’s insistent hand, and soon, he was loudly panting against theo, string after string of his cum releasing into your mouth.

you quickly lapped up the remnants and switched to theo, who was already on the very edge. as your lips closed around him, his hips pushed up, and you knew you’d be hoarse as hell the next day when his tip roughly hit the back of your throat. theo desperately licked into mattheo’s mouth, the latter’s jaw still hanging slack as he came down from his high, and in a matter of seconds, his cum was also dripping down your throat, hot and slightly bitter from his constant smoking.

you were breathless when you pulled away, and your throat was already starting to hurt, but a smile spread on your face at the sight of the guys on the couch. they were now lazily and sloppily making out, catching their own breaths after their intense orgasms. theo’s hand was carding through mattheo’s hair, making him let out quiet little moans into theo’s mouth, while mattheo’s hand cradled the other boy’s cheek, his thumb rubbing soft circles on the flushed skin. they were adorable like that, and truthfully, you could watch them for hours. but you still had your arousal unattended to. both of them shifted their attention when you cleared your throat, identical smirks appearing on their lips when they saw your raised eyebrow. you definitely weren’t leaving the dressing room any time soon.

i know i’m biased when it comes to this au (aka my favorite ever), but this was so fucking amazing i’m gagged (in a good way). like always, how can you be so good at everything? 😡

"hey, you gotta sit still f'me or you won't survive this, a'ight?" the masked man holding a gun in front of you hisses through his teeth, his deep, intense voice muffled as he spreads your legs.

this has barely begun and i’m already crying on the floor. the imagery is so real, plus i would be like a dog in heat if he said this to me (even more with a gun in his hand) 👩‍🦯

"not that i care."

i’m sorry but i actually love mean mattheo 😔

under the mask

he’s wearing a mask??????? bye %#*%#^ and *%$@

he then unexpectedly pushes the gun into your soaked hole, the action anything but gentle-

one more time—the imaginary is amazing

i really want to talk about this, because it’s so real. i love that he’s everything but gentle during sex, plus THE GUN. i would 💦💦💦💦 so fast, he would hit me (amen)

"poor thing, your heart is beating so fast... don't worry. i'll be careful, princess."

"but uh, i just can't control these shaky hands sometimes... what a shame it would be if my finger slipped and accidentally pulled the trigger."

son. of. a. bitch. idk if i want to fuck him or kill him—maybe BOTH.

also i’m curious to know what would happen—so i might let him 🦭 ari you’re the best when it comes to dialogue during sex

before you can protest, he roughly drags the gun nearly out of your cunt,

"ah ah ah; be a good girl f'me and keep those pretty legs spread, yeah?" he orders, shaking his masked head in disapproval as his hand increases its pace.

for a moment, i was sad, but then the sadness ran away from my body and boom, i was back to being a bitch in heat—still can’t get over that he’s wearing a mask—my legs don’t approve of this, but you know what else does 🤲🏻

anyways, final review: 5 ⭐️ like always, because i genuinely can’t point out anything bad. i was hooked from the beginning until the end

i’m a purge au truther 🦭

FIFTEEN. gunplay — the purge au mattheo riddle

warnings — smut 18+. dubcon. gunplay (mattheo fucks reader with his gun). mask kink. purge night. you are responsible for your own media consumption.

kinkmas mlist. moodboard. more.

“hey, you gotta sit still f’me or you won’t survive this, a’ight?” the masked man holding a gun in front of you hisses through his teeth, his deep, intense voice muffled as he spreads your legs. you’re unsure what he wants from you after breaking into your house on purge night, but you fear the worst as you tremble beneath him, gazing up at him through eyelashes with fat tears threatening to fall from your waterline.

“not that i care.” he mutters under his breath, raking the barrel over your exposed cunt, your ripped panties already tossed to the floor. you’re trembling in fear, your brows furrowed in nervousness, yet, you still can’t help but feel somewhat turned on? and he notices it too, chuckling lowly under the mask as his brown eyes are drawn to your dripping pussy.

he then unexpectedly pushes the gun into your soaked hole, the action anything but gentle— the sharp edges of the hard metal make you instinctively clench even tighter around it, as you scream out in both pain and pleasure. you don’t have to see his face to know that he’s smirking behind the mask, relishing in the fear and pain radiating off you.

his head dips closer, the heavy, muffled breaths through the mask only frightening you more.

“poor thing, your heart is beating so fast… don’t worry. i’ll be careful, princess.” you feel a sense of relief at his unexpectedly caring words, spoken in such a soothing manner— but that false sense of relief doesn’t last long.

“but uh, i just can’t control these shaky hands sometimes… what a shame it would be if my finger slipped and accidentally pulled the trigger.”

your eyes widen as the masked man chuckles wickedly. you can see his erection clearly now, and it’s almost as if he’s getting harder the more fear he sees on your pretty face.

before you can protest, he roughly drags the gun nearly out of your cunt, before pushing it back inside, causing you to whimper uncomfortably at the unusual feeling. you instinctively try to close your legs, but he catches on immediately, grabbing your inner thigh and pushing it open until your muscles ache from the stretch.

“ah ah ah; be a good girl f’me and keep those pretty legs spread, yeah?” he orders, shaking his masked head in disapproval as his hand increases its pace. the gun painfully drags against your walls, but still, your wetness drips down the cold metal and all over his hands, the slick sounds of your wet pussy echoing through your ominously dark room.

“tsk… such a dirty fuckin’ slut, huh? turns out i broke into the right house tonight. and if you’re lucky, i might just return next year…”

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

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

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!

i asked for times like this, and kira heard my screams and made another smut masterpiece—we love to see it 🙂‍↕️

moans? he's never heard you moaning like that before, that freely and loudly.

you should learn from your friend how to act and fuck properly, my little guy 😬

male. there's no fucking way.

theo… you want us to fuck a girl…? say less 🙂‍↕️

on your bed, you're in a very delicious position, ass up face down, your hands fisting the sheets as a guy pounds into you from behind, his fingers firmly digging into your hips. and not just any guy - theo's very best friend, mattheo.

the imaginary is fucking delicious and so vivid 😣😣

+ i would give my firstborn child to see the face Theo was making in that moment pffft

theo feels a wave a pure jealousy wash over him as he watches his friend take you in a way that theo could only dream of. he's gonna kill him

no one cares plus you are stupid, ✨ prove do seu veneno ✨

without really thinking, theo unzips his jeans and pulls them down along with his boxers, his hard cock

ok i was not waiting for this but now i’m giggling like a maniac m, he’s so fucking pathetic jajsjsjsj i love him

— the mattheo parts, i have to say — i read them drooling because i can’t act properly when it comes to him, and you just write him so well that i don’t want anything more than to be fucked like a doll by him.

"my mate is a fucking idiot, missing out on all this." mattheo's words make theo's free hand curl into a fist, the desire to punch his friend overridden only by the pleasure he's feeling as he starts pumping his other hand faster.

TELL HIM BABY, jsjsjsjs mattheo is so good i love him

+ are you mad theo? :( FUCK OFF DESERVED, such a loser

he’s seen mattheo’s dick himself, it’s a goddamn fuck machine…

unfortunately i might need the proof :(

i love this one so much, i needed this revenge, i NEEDED IT to finally feel satisfied, and you did not disappoint as always. go to hell kira, this one had me drooling and kicking my feet 10/10 as always

the writing is immaculate

need us having a guy over and hooking up with him while sister’s bf!theo is there and he can hear. how would he react?

⋆౨ৎ sister’s bf!theo hears you fucking his bsf mattheo

nav // aus / sister’s bf!theo // more

well hi there. we’re fucking his bsf matty here, i hope you don’t mind 🤭 i’ve been waiting to write this for so long, and finally we’re getting to it, so buckle up !!

warnings: 18+ mdni, voyeurism, masturbating (m), implied unprotected p in v, implied creampie, hair pulling, cursing, mentions of cheating

the sound of music coming from of your room is pretty much a habit at this point. theo isn’t surprised when he hears a faint sound of some chase atlantic song, chuckling to himself – god, you’re annoying with this band, much like his best friend, who always puts them on when he’s on aux duty. theo places his spare keys on the small vanity at the door – he’s come to wait for your sister, who had to run some errands this afternoon.

but as he walks further into the apartment, planning to make himself some coffee in the kitchen, he has to stop and listen closer. the music is suddenly not the only thing he can hear. his eyebrows knit together as he starts to distinguish… moans? he’s never heard you moaning like that before, that freely and loudly. whenever you were with him, under his mouth and fingers, your sounds were always low, stifled, always under threat of being exposed. now… you were unashamed and loud as hell.

despite himself, theo starts walking in the direction of your room. he can’t help being drawn there, and he curses quietly as he feels his cock starting to harden in his jeans – you sound that good. however, as he closes in, he hears something else, something that makes his frown deepen significantly. another set of moans and groans, male. there’s no fucking way.

surprisingly, or not, the door to your room is cracked open. of course, theo is a weak, weak man, and he has to know, has to confirm his assumptions. as he peers into the crack, he nearly chokes on air. there, on your bed, you’re in a very delicious position, ass up face down, your hands fisting the sheets as a guy pounds into you from behind, his fingers firmly digging into your hips. and not just any guy – theo’s very best friend, mattheo.

fucking chase atlantic. should’ve been a dead giveaway.

theo feels a wave a pure jealousy wash over him as he watches his friend take you in a way that theo could only dream of. he’s gonna kill him, he thinks – mattheo is fully aware of everything going on between you and theo, and still, he decided go against every single variation of bro code in existence… he almost groans aloud, having to bite his bottom lip to silence himself. the scene in front on him has no business being this hot.

without really thinking, theo unzips his jeans and pulls them down along with his boxers, his hard cock eagerly springing out and already leaking at the tip. his hand closes around the base, his breathing turning shallow as he watches mattheo grab a fistful of your hair to pull your body up against his chest.

"you feel so fucking good, baby," he hears his friend growl into your ear, thrusting deeper and eliciting a sweet, high-pitched moan out of you. theo grits his teeth as his hand starts stroking his cock, the rage he feels towards mattheo mixing with his burning arousal. precum drips down his length, his fingers smearing it all over, and he has to be slower than he wants to be in order not to give himself away by the slick sounds of him jerking off.

"my mate is a fucking idiot, missing out on all this." mattheo’s words make theo’s free hand curl into a fist, the desire to punch his friend overridden only by the pleasure he’s feeling as he starts pumping his other hand faster. he knows mattheo is right – theo has been the one refusing to fuck you so far, because apparently that would be cheating on your sister, and him dry humping you into oblivion every chance he gets isn’t. but this realization doesn’t make it easier; it makes it harder, in more ways than one.

mattheo’s pace inside of you grows quicker, the sounds of skin slapping against skin filling the room, and at this point, the entire apartment. theo’s lips part as he watches your body move along with his friend’s thrusts, your tits bouncing up and down and making his mouth go dry. his cock twitches in his hold, and he feels his orgasm inching closer and closer with every moan you let out.

"you close, baby?" he hears mattheo’s ragged whisper, and your frantic nod is almost all it takes to bring theo over the edge. he can’t believe himself – he’s jacking off to the sight of his best friend fucking you, and he’s about to witness you cum on his dick. no wonder you will, he’s seen mattheo’s dick himself, it’s a goddamn fuck machine…

when your whole body shakes, and your voice grows hoarse from the pleasured moan you let out at your orgasm, theo can’t hold himself back – he spills into his hand, bracing himself against the wall by leaning on his forearm. the sticky mess of his cum seeping through his fingers is a shameful reminder of what has just happened – he jerked himself off watching his best mate fuck you. god, was it really worth it? the post-nut clarity is strong, and it only gets worse when he witnesses mattheo not even thinking of pulling out when he cums. this fucking bastard…

theo decides for himself right that moment that he absolutely needs to fuck you, his pride be damned – not like he has much of it left anyway. and maybe punch mattheo a couple of times.

♡ Assassin!Mattheo - First meeting

Summary: Mattheo got assigned the mission to end you, and he would find you at every price. But what he didn’t know was that you already knew about him.

Warnings: mentions of violence, dark themes, blood, stalking

Mattheo held the photo of you in his hand, studying your features thoroughly. Your coffee-colored locks falling down your shoulders, crystal clear eyes that could make any man drown. Sharp jaw, plump lips, and a small button nose. A beautiful creature, but he had been taught they were the most dangerous. Charming with their looks, devil in their soul.

For weeks he had been studying you, tracing your every step during the day. Keeping himself in the shadows to not be seen, keeping a distance between the two of you. He made sure to know your exact locations during the day, tracking down where you lived, where you worked, what gym you went to. Keeping the time of when you woke up in the morning, when you went to work, when you had lunch, when you got off work. He followed you to the gym, kept tracking what you trained. He had it all written down and made sure he wouldn’t miss a single damn detail.

Tonight was the night. The night where he was supposed to take your life, the night where he would see your blood pool around your feet, the night when he was going to witness life leaving your eyes. 

Mattheo pulled on his black cargo pants, together with his black leather holster. A pitch-black, tight t-shirt clothing his tense torso. He pulled on a black zip hoodie, pulling up the hood to cover his head. 

He looked at himself in the mirror, running his hand through his locks. Adjusting his holster, he placed a gun with a silencer  together with five throwing knives. His eyes still locked with his reflection, he picked up a throwing knife and spun it around his finger before putting it back in the holster together with the other four. 

Somehow, a strange feeling pooled in Mattheo’s stomach this night. Usually, he was never nervous going on his missions. But this time, it felt different. It was something with you, something with the picture of you, something with the way you were. Somehow, it didn’t feel right. He shook the feeling quickly and went out the front door. 

Walking down the pavement, Mattheo kept his mind on the one thing he had to do tonight, and then he saw you. And you saw him. Eyes locking for the shortest of seconds before you disappeared into the shadows. Mattheo followed shortly after, trying to comprehend the small and first interaction the two of you had ever had. You couldn’t know about him, could you?

Mattheo found himself in a dark, old, abandoned warehouse. He looked around but couldn’t see you. Only your footsteps echoing in the dirt of the empty warehouse walls. Mattheo looked around but couldn’t see even a glimpse of you in the shadows. 

“Mattheo… Riddle? Correct?” 

Mattheo’s eyes widened, twisting and turning his head. He could still hear your footsteps on the dirty floor, circling around him in the shadows. 

“You didn’t think I knew, did you? To be fair, you’re not so subtle when you stalk people. I’ve known your presence for the last few weeks.” 

Exasperation grew like a knot in Mattheo’s stomach. The thought of you knowing he had kept track of you all this time was damn near bewildering. It felt almost like a bad joke, and he couldn’t understand how he could’ve missed something like this.

“And if you have known all this time, why haven’t you done anything to prevent it?” Mattheo’s voice was firm. He felt calm, though the uncomfortable feeling of you knowing about him still lingered.

“Because… Where would the fun in that be?” Your voice was still echoing between the walls. You stood in the shadows, having Mattheo right where you wanted him. You aimed your gun towards him; the bullet would hit right in the middle of his forehead. But then he spoke again, and you lowered your gun.

“Yeah, you’re right. Where would the fun in that be? Bet you love the thrill, don’t you?” Mattheo’s voice took on a taunting tone. “Like you wanted to be followed.”

You furrowed your brows, shaking your head. Not in his wildest dreams could he believe in his own words. But right then and there, a throwing knife flew right beside your head, cutting your cheek, if only so slightly. With the tips of your fingers, you wiped away the blood. But when you looked up again, Mattheo was gone. Your blood ran cold in your veins because now you knew he had turned the tables, and with a sudden pull, he dragged you out of the shadows and into the middle of the room. 

“If we’re going to play this kind of game, we’ll play it fair.” Mattheo’s eyes bore into yours. You had only seen him from a distance before, except for the photos you had of him. But his features? Oh, he was handsome; his chestnut hair, his deep dark eyes, sharp jawline. You two weren’t so different from each other––both had experience in the same field, assassins. But it didn’t seem like Mattheo knew about that. 

You stood in the middle, and Mattheo circled around you like a wolf ready to eat its prey. His eyes roamed up and down your body, but his eyes were glued to the cut on your cheek. He reached his fingers to the cut, tracing it with his fingertips. “Such a shame…” he said with a low and husky voice, though a smirk tugged on his lips. “What is?”

Mattheo leaned into your ear, moving a strand of hair before whispering, “That I have to kill you.”

© cvrcingjonnie 2025. Please do not copy, translate or repost any of my works. Reblogs, likes and comments are welcomed though ♡ you are accountable for your own media consumption.

LIMINAL. mattheo riddle

mattheo riddle x fem reader

summary; a restless night by the lake, where longing and unspoken tension linger in the air, and neither of you dares to close the distance. words ; 1.2k warnings ; angst?, confusing dynamic

navigation mattheo riddle masterlist

The night air was still, heavy with the scent of summer. The sky stretched endlessly above the Black Lake, a sea of dark velvet studded with flickering stars. The moon hung low, casting a pale glow over the rippling water, turning it into a mirror of light. And there you were, standing at the edge of it all, your silhouette sharp against the backdrop of night, your presence pulling him in like gravity.

Mattheo couldn’t take his eyes off you. Not now, not ever.

There was something about you that made him restless. He couldn’t place it. Maybe it was the way you seemed so distant, even when you were near, your thoughts always miles away from the noise of the world. Maybe it was the way you laughed—soft and easy, as if you were keeping a secret from everyone else, one that he desperately wanted to know. Or maybe it was the way your eyes met his in fleeting moments, like you could see right through the mask he wore so well.

He watched you now, the breeze tousling your hair as you gazed out over the water. You were like that—quiet, contained—but there was a fire underneath, something simmering just beneath the surface. And every time Mattheo got close enough to see it, you pulled back, leaving him wondering if he was imagining it all.

He hated it. He hated the way you made him feel unsteady, like he was losing control. Control was everything to Mattheo—had been ever since he could remember. He had mastered the art of pretending, of knowing exactly what to say to get what he wanted. Girls? Easy. They were always the same—predictable, eager to fall into whatever role he needed them to play for the night. It was a game, and he knew the rules inside out.

But with you? The rules didn’t apply.

And it infuriated him.

He leaned back against a tree, his arms crossed, watching as you finally sat down on the grass, pulling your knees to your chest. The moonlight caught on the soft curve of your jaw, the delicate slope of your shoulders. His jaw clenched. He wanted to go to you, to sit beside you and ask what the hell you were thinking about. But he didn’t. You never gave him that satisfaction.

This thing between you two—it was like chasing shadows. Every time he thought he had you figured out, you slipped through his fingers, leaving him empty. And still, he couldn’t stay away.

You had become an obsession, the one thing he couldn’t conquer.

A breeze rustled through the trees, carrying the soft murmur of the lake. Mattheo’s thoughts drifted, his mind wandering back to the countless nights before this one—nights spent in dark corners, your voice low and teasing, your touch always just out of reach. He remembered the way you had laughed at him once, telling him he didn’t know how to take things seriously. He had scoffed at you, brushing it off. But later, when he was alone in the quiet of his dorm, your words lingered, biting deeper than they should have.

Because maybe you were right.

Maybe he didn’t know how to take anything seriously. Maybe that’s why he was so damn terrified of whatever this was with you.

Mattheo pushed himself off the tree, his feet carrying him toward you before he even realized what he was doing. You didn’t look up when he sat down beside you, though he could feel the shift in the air between you. Tense, like you were waiting for something to happen.

His gaze slid over to you, taking in the way your lashes fluttered as you stared out at the lake. He wondered what you saw out there. What was going on inside that head of yours?

“You always come here,” he said, his voice low, almost accusing.

You didn’t look at him. “So do you.”

He huffed a laugh, the sound bitter. “Yeah, well, maybe I’m waiting for something.”

That got your attention. You turned your head, your eyes locking onto his. His heart skipped a beat—something it had no business doing—and for a second, he thought you might say something that would change everything. But you didn’t. You never did. Instead, you just looked at him, as if you were searching for something in his expression, something that never quite showed.

“You always wait,” you murmured. “But you never move.”

The words hit him harder than he expected. He had heard things like that before—people telling him he didn’t care, that he was incapable of actually feeling anything real. He had shrugged it off, letting the words slide over him like water. But when you said it, it felt different. It felt like a challenge.

Mattheo leaned in closer, his voice dropping lower. “Maybe that’s because every time I try to move, you pull away.”

You blinked, your lips parting slightly as if you were about to speak. But then, you didn’t. You just stared at him, and for the first time in a long time, Mattheo felt vulnerable. Exposed.

He hated it.

His hand reached out before he could stop himself, his fingers brushing against your arm. You didn’t pull away, and that was enough to make his pulse quicken. He could feel the warmth of your skin beneath his, the electric current that always seemed to crackle in the air when you were near.

“Tell me I’m wrong,” he said quietly, his voice rougher than he intended.

But you didn’t. You just looked at him with those eyes that always seemed to know too much, and something inside him twisted. He didn’t understand you. He didn’t understand why he was drawn to you like this, why every girl before you had been so simple, so easy, and yet you were the one thing he couldn’t grasp.

You looked away, breaking the moment, and Mattheo’s chest tightened with frustration. He was desperate to know what you were thinking, to know why you kept him at arm’s length. Every time he tried to get closer, you slipped further away.

And yet, he couldn’t stop chasing you.

The silence stretched between you, thick and suffocating. The night was still, the world holding its breath as if waiting for something to happen.

Then you stood up, brushing the grass off your skirt. “It’s late,” you said softly, your voice distant, like you were already gone.

Mattheo’s heart sank, his hand clenching into a fist in the grass. He watched as you walked away, your figure fading into the darkness, and for a moment, he wanted to call out to you, to tell you to stop running. To tell you that he was falling—harder than he ever had before—and he didn’t know how to make you see it.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he sat there, watching your shadow disappear into the night, knowing that he’d keep waiting. Just like he always did.

And maybe, one day, you’d stop pulling away.

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

this was inspired by ‘each time you fall in love’ by cigarettes after sex!! also thank you @ur-local-wizard and @riddleswhcre for proof reading this a while ago i love you guys <3

۶ৎ riding boyfriend’s brother!mattheo in your room

boyfriend’s brother!mattheo x fem reader warnings ; 18+ mdni, unprotected p in v, face slapping, choking, dirty talk, finger sucking (?), cheating boyfriend's brother!mattheo moodboard

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

mattheo's fingers dig into your thighs, the heat of his palms branding your skin as you grind down on him, the weight of what you’re doing lost somewhere between the haze of arousal and the sharp edge of knowing you shouldn’t. knowing this is wrong. knowing you’re on top of your boyfriend’s brother, his hands gripping your ass like he owns it, his cock buried so fucking deep you can barely breathe.

"you should be fucking ashamed of yourself," he murmurs against your skin, voice dripping with mockery, his breath hot where it ghosts over your jaw. his fingers are bruising into your hips, keeping you where he wants you, dragging you down onto his cock at a pace that has your nails digging into his shoulders, useless in stopping him.  

"shut up," you hiss, even as your thighs shake from how deep he is, even as your body betrays you and clenches around him like it’s starved for it. mattheo chuckles, low and taunting. 

and then it happens. a sharp knock at the door.

“love?” tom’s voice is right there, on the other side of the wood. “why is the door locked?”

your heart slams into your ribs, your body going rigid as mattheo smirks up at you, completely unbothered. he’s still inside you, still hard, and now his hands are sliding up your waist, like he’s daring you to move, daring you to react.

tom knocks again. “are you in there?”

mattheo fucking smiles.  

you barely register your own voice when you respond, breathless and high-pitched. “y-yeah! just—just changing, tom, one second!”

mattheo’s amusement is damn near palpable. you can feel the low laugh rumbling in his chest, the way he’s seconds away from ruining you, from saying something that will have your entire life crumbling at your feet. without thinking, you slap a hand over his mouth, the other wrapping around his throat in a desperate attempt to shut him up.

“don’t,” you whisper with wide eyes, your voice just loud enough for him to hear, just soft enough that tom won’t.  

his lashes flutter. he fucking moans. it’s quiet, muffled against your palm, but you hear it. you feel the vibration of it against your skin, the way his adam’s apple bobs under your fingers as his smirk deepens, those dark eyes gleaming with something downright depraved.

and then his lips part, his tongue flicking out to drag wet heat against your palm.  

your stomach twists.  

"you don’t want him to hear, huh?" he mumbles when you pull your hand away, smug and cruel, eyes dark with something lethal.  

"obviously," you snap, but you already know you’ve fucked up, because mattheo's grin stretches wide like a predator who’s caught its prey, head tilting against the pillows as he watches you, eats up the way your chest rises and falls, the way you’re still fucking seated on his cock while your boyfriend stands just outside the door.  

"gag me then," he taunts, his voice nothing but pure sin. "if you’re so desperate to keep quiet."  

it’s the way he says it. so easy. so casual. like he isn’t already pushing every single fucking limit. like he isn’t already unraveling you piece by piece. you snap before you can think twice, shoving your fingers into his mouth, pressing down against his tongue in warning.

his reaction is immediate. his lips wrap around them, a hot, wet heat as his tongue swirls, slow and deliberate, teasing like he has all the fucking time in the world, making a show of it just to watch your face twist in something you refuse to name. your thighs involuntarily twitch where they’re straddling him.  

his lashes flutter, gaze hazy as he watches you, eyes so fucking smug it makes you want to slap him.

so you do.

your palm collides with his cheek, the sharp sound of it echoing through the room. mattheo groans, half-lidded eyes darkening as his hips jolt up into yours, dragging a choked noise from your throat. his hands tighten on your waist, his nails biting into your skin as his smirk deepens.

“oh, you little minx,” he murmurs around your fingers, voice rough, wrecked.

“you’re fucking sick,” you hiss, but your thighs are trembling and he fucking knows it.

“oh, i know.” his hands slide lower, squeezing your ass, dragging you forward until you can feel every inch of him pressing into you. his breath fans against your skin, words thick with satisfaction. your saliva covered fingers draw out of his mouth. “but i also know that you fucking love it.”

your breath stutters. your chest tightens. because he’s right. you do. and when his grip tightens and he pulls your hips down again, forcing you to move, forcing you to keep going, your resolve shatters completely.

“tell me, baby,” mattheo purrs, rocking into you slow, teasing, dragging the pleasure out until your fingers are curling against his jaw. his smirk is still there, lazy, smug, victorious. “are you sick too?”

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

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.

TWENTY-TWO. voyeurism — new girl au (in which you live with theo, mattheo, enzo)

warnings — smut 18+. voyeurism (spying on reader). male and female masturbation. thank you so much my girl @rafescvntyclubgf for helping me with this idea ily!!!

kinkmas mlist. moodboard. more.

finally… back home. you plop down onto the shared couch in the common living room, your tense body immediately relaxing after a long, difficult day. you momentarily close your eyes, taking a few big breaths as you try to unwind— but you instantly crave more to fully relax.

thankfully, your annoying roommates are out today, giving you the privacy you need. slowly, you slip your hand into your pants, fingers dipping into your panties. a relieved breath escapes you as you gently rub your aching clit, your whole body instantly melting into the comfort of the couch.

“hmmm, just what i needed.” you gasp softly, biting your lip as your back instinctively arches, hips bucking slightly in desperation. you’re so lost in sheer pleasure, your lips parting in ecstasy and your wetness soaking through your panties— until you’re suddenly snapped back to reality when you hear low groans and feel multiple eyes burning into you.

these fucking idiots. you instantly realise that your roommates aren’t out today, noticing their presence when you see all of their previously closed doors slightly ajar. what you don’t see, though, is that each boy has their hand wrapped around their throbbing cock, slowly pumping it while intensely watching you— but you’re not stupid. you know exactly what’s going on.

your first instinct is to tell them off, but instead, you decide to have a little fun before you do. you spread your legs a little wider and increase your sensual moans, giving them a show. from all their bedrooms, you can hear the rhythmic, slick sounds of them stroking themselves and low moans growing louder, causing a sly smirk to appear on your flushed face as you continue to eagerly finger yourself.

right when you sense they’re close to their release, you quickly pull your hand out of your panties and grab your phone from beside you, opening the group chat with the four of you. from their bedrooms, you hear surprised gasps and ‘oh fuck’s, realising that they’ve been caught.

you: stop spying on me you creeps.

enzo: it wasn’t me.

you: you bring a different girl over every night, you whore. i think i know what your moans sound like.

mattheo: 👨🏻‍🦯‍➡️👨🏻‍🦯‍➡️👨🏻‍🦯‍➡️

you: i’ll kill you as well matt.

theo: sorry amore. i’ll make you some pasta to make it up to you.

you: thank you theo 😇

mattheo: this is unfair. im moving out.

enzo: i’ll snap the spaghetti right in front of your eyes, nott.

theo: with those skinny ass arms? shiver me timbers.

enzo left the group chat.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

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

so, leona just dropped another masterpiece we’re not surprised i’m going to eat this so bad 💳💥💳💥

❦ BOYFRIEND’S BROTHER!MATTHEO

— boyfriend’s brother!mattheo ; the problem you never asked for, wrapped in a smirk and bad intentions. he's always there—leaning against the counter when you visit, waiting for the moment you walk out of tom’s room so he can catch you alone, thinking of all the ways he could ruin you, and he’s not afraid to flirt with you right in front of his brother. whispers filth in your ear and shames you for it like it's your fault for listening. you tell yourself it's harmless—that you love tom, that mattheo is just a nuisance—but then his hand slides up your thigh under the dinner table, and suddenly, harmless doesn't exist anymore.

navigation. au collection. m.list. boyfriend’s brother!mattheo

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

(yes this au will involve cheating. please simply scroll or do not interact if you are uncomfortable with that.)

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

Mattheo Riddle Masterlist

One-Shots:

The Fruit of Your Labour

A Little bit of Green (coming soon)

Headcanons:

Tom Riddle x Reader x Mattheo Riddle Love Triangle Headcanons

Sleeping with them

Making out with them

Touches

when I'm re-watching the Harry Potter movies and the slytherin boys don't show up🙄

mattheo listening to f!reader as she tries to stop him from beating up mclaggen for catcalling/staring at her

"love, he looked at you."

"i know matty, but it's fine. i don't want you to get into more fights..."

*not listening*

"but you're mine...and he looked at you. "

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😭😭

Harry Potter Masterlist

Mattheo Riddle Masterlist

Tom Riddle Masterlist

Theodore Nott Masterlist

Miscellaneous:

One-Shots:

"Shut Up Malfoy"

Headcanons:

You get a lover

Drabbles:

Catching the Golden trio staring at you

Incorrect quotes:

Fred Weasley Incorrect quote

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.

I got you

Mattheo Riddle x femReader

After a grueling day, you can finally relax in your dorm. And your loving boyfriend is more than happy to help you with that.

Warnings: MDNI, smut, oral (f!receiving), fingering, praise kink, swearing, established relationship, soft!mattheo, aftercare, using of 'baby girl', 'good girl'

A/N: I didn't intend to write smut, but the last few days got the best of me draining my soul. Hope my work will help you feel better as much as it does me.

Thanks to a sweet angel, Jess, for proofreading my first smutty work 💕

It was rare, but it happened. The kind of day when everything just felt like too much. Too noisy in the Great Hall during breakfast, too hard to understand the material in class, too incomprehensible to write down your answers for homework, too annoying to hang out with your friends — even though you loved them with all your heart. Everything today was just too much.

You walked to your dorm after spending two frustrating hours struggling over your Potions essay. No matter how much you tried, the words didn’t feel right, and the more you stared at the parchment, the worse it got. You knew you could do better — but not today. Not when every ounce of energy and focus had drained out of you. Maybe if you went to bed early, you could rewrite it tomorrow morning?

With a heavy sigh, you tossed your bag to the floor near the table. The day felt like an endless stretch of torture, and you were finally free — finally in the quiet comfort of your room. Here, you didn’t have to be anything but a lazy bundle wrapped in a blanket, free from responsibilities and expectations.

You opened the closet, reaching for something more comfortable. Your fingers brushed against a familiar grey shirt — Mattheo’s. It was oversized and soft, and even after multiple washes, it still carried the faintest scent of him. You slipped it on along with a pair of wide, comfy shorts, hoping the feel of his clothes would ease some of the tension humming beneath your skin.

With another dramatic sigh, you plopped onto your bed, letting your tired body sink into the mattress. Your eyes felt heavy, the weight of the day pulling you under as you burrowed deeper beneath the blanket.

For a few blissful minutes, the silence wrapped around you like a cocoon, and you let yourself breathe — slow and deep. But just as your mind began to drift, a knock at your door pulled you back.

Your brows furrowed in irritation. You didn’t want to see anyone. Not now. You ignored the sound, hoping whoever it was would get the hint. But then the soft click of the door opening made you lift your head slightly.

The annoyance faded the second you recognized the guest.

"Hey there, baby girl," Mattheo’s voice was warm, smooth like honey, and the sight of him sent a flutter through your chest. His dark curls were tousled as if he’d run his fingers through them on the way over, and the usual edge in his eyes softened when they landed on your form wrapped in the blanket.

He crossed the room, settling on the edge of your bed. His hand found you immediately, brushing down the curve of your shoulder and along your hip through the duvet — a touch so familiar, so comforting, it made your whole body relax.

“I haven't seen you since class," he murmured, his tone playful but laced with quiet concern. “Thought I’d come check on my girl.”

You sighed softly, feeling the weight of the day loosen slightly at his presence. “Just… tired,” you admitted, your voice muffled as you tucked your face into the blanket. “It’s been a long day.”

Mattheo hummed in understanding, his fingers tracing slow, soothing circles along your side. “Poor thing,” he said, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your temple. “Why didn’t you tell me? You know I’m always here for you.”

His words settled something fragile inside you, melting the last traces of tension. Without a second thought, you shifted closer, and he took the invitation immediately — lifting the blanket and sliding in beside you. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you against his chest, and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat echoed softly in your ear.

“You don’t have to be strong all the time, you know,” Mattheo whispered, his lips brushing against your hair. “I’ve got you.”

The warmth of his body seeped into yours, easing the ache that had followed you all day. His hand never stopped moving — gentle, absent-minded strokes along your back as if he was determined to chase every last trace of stress away.

For a moment, you let yourself melt into him, your body softening under his touch. But then Mattheo shifted slightly, and his fingers trailed up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. His lips pressed a soft kiss against your temple — tender and lingering.

“You work too hard,” he murmured, his voice low and warm against your skin. “You should let me take care of you sometimes.”

Before you could answer, he tilted your face gently toward him, brushing his lips across your cheek. The kiss was featherlight, but it sent a shiver down your spine. Another kiss followed, this time at the corner of your mouth, lingering just long enough to make your heart stutter in your chest.

His thumb traced along your jaw, tilting your head slightly to give him more access as his lips trailed a slow, deliberate path across your face. Each kiss was soft, unhurried — like he had all the time in the world to remind you how much he adored you.

“You’re too sweet to me,” you whispered, your voice barely audible as your fingers curled into the front of his shirt.

Mattheo's hand slided down to the small of your back, his fingers splaying possessively but gently over the curve of your ass. He pulled you closer until every inch of your body was pressed against him, from your soft breasts to your long, slender legs. He wanted to absorb your warmth, your soul, your goodness. He wanted it to seep into his bones and heal all the broken, jagged pieces of himself.

"Too sweet?" he scoffed quietly at your words. Salazar, if you only knew how he was afraid that one day you would get tired of him. Of his darkness, of his recklessness, of his demons inside. No, he could never be too sweet for you. He just liked to show you his appreciation for your presence in his life, his awe of your existence, his utter and deep love for you.

“I’m not sweet,” he murmured quietly, but the teasing edge in his tone softened when he pressed a kiss to the delicate spot just beneath your ear. “I’m selfish. I just want you all to myself.”

The heat of his breath against your skin made your stomach flip in a familiar way. His kisses wandered lower, trailing along the curve of your jaw before he found the sensitive spot on your neck. His lips lingered there, soft and warm, as he placed an open-mouthed kiss against your pulse.

A quiet sigh slipped from your lips, and Mattheo hummed in satisfaction, clearly pleased by your reaction. “That’s better,” he said, his voice huskier now. “You’re finally relaxing.”

His hand slid from your butt under the blanket, finding the bare skin of your waist beneath his oversized shirt. His touch was gentle — slow, almost teasing — as his thumb stroked lazy circles over your hipbone.

“You smell like me,” Mattheo murmured against your neck, his lips brushing against your skin with every word. “I like it.”

His confession made your chest tighten in the best way. You tilted your head slightly without realizing it, giving him better access as his mouth continued its exploration — kissing, nipping softly, then soothing the spots with his tongue.

“Mattheo…” His name slipped from your lips, barely more than a breath, but it was enough to make him pause. He lifted his head slightly, his dark eyes meeting yours, and the warmth you found there made you swallow.

"I'm right here," he murmured softly, brushing his nose against your. He pecked you gently, upper lip at first, then the lower one. "Gonna be a good girl and let me help you relax, yeah?" His tone felt better than any soft and warm blanket, making your heart stumble on its rhythm. The familiar heat pooled down to your stomach.

"Yes. I will, Matty," you whispered in his lips, feeling the anticipation tingling in your body.

His warm smile made something clench painfully in your chest. Mattheo's hand moved further, from your hipbone to your stomach, running his fingers there slowly.

"That's it," he murmured softly. His hand moved further, his touch was careful. It was obvious he knew exactly where to go, where to touch, where to kiss. His calloused fingers slid with confidence and gentleness against your heated skin, as he took on the mission to leave no inch of your body untouched, and his own body shivered in response to the sensation of you — feeling every dip and curve under the shirt, his shirt that you were wearing.

He pressed his lips back against your skin, a soft kiss here, a soft kiss there. Your body responded every single time, your muscles relaxing under his touch.

Mattheo felt the tension in your body ease with every touch and kiss he placed. This was exactly what he wanted — you to relax, to let go of the worries of the day, and trust him completely.

His thumb traced a slow, soothing circle over the sensitive skin of your hip, his gaze roaming your face, taking in every detail — every flutter of your eyelashes, every soft exhale of your breath.

"You’re so beautiful," he murmured quietly. "So damn beautiful." It was as if he couldn't believe you were real — that you were his, in his arms, letting him touch you, kiss you, make you feel good.

As his thumb continued its journey, tracing a path along the waistband of your shorts, his lips found that spot on your neck again. He sucked gently at your pulse point, his breath hot and ragged against your skin.

Mattheo's words and actions made your body shiver, the sincerity in his voice making your breathing uneven. You lifted your hand, fingers tangling into the dark mass of curls at his nape, tugging him closer.

His touch was slightly rougher now as Mattheo played with the waistband of your panties. He wanted to feel your entire body respond to him, to have you arch your back against his hand.

Mattheo shifted slightly and gently tugged at the fabric, his lips moving to your ear. "Don't move," he whispered gruffly, his tone commanding. "Just let me take care of you."

The possessive edge in his voice made you swallow. You could hear the want and need in his words — the hunger for you, for your body in his hands.

His lips left a trail of kisses along your jawline as he continued to explore. His hands moved more confidently, his fingers dancing over your skin as he slowly pushed your shorts down your already trembling thighs.

Mattheo's hand skimmed along the bare skin of your legs, leaving goosebumps in its wake. He took a moment to appreciate the sight of you, in his oversized shirt, underwear, and nothing else, sprawled out in front of him on the bed. "You have no idea how beautiful you are," he murmured, his words a soft exhale against your neck. "So good for me. So fucking beautiful."

There was a note of reverence in his voice, as if he was worshipping you with every word. His hands began to move again, his large and warm palms sliding up the inside of your thighs, spreading them gently apart.

His hands went to remove your panties, his touch caring and soft. In his position, he was laying between your legs, his face was just above your mound. You tremlled at the sight of his eyes on you. "You look so perfect like this," he said in a low, a bit hoarse voice.

Mattheo leaned in, his face close enough that you could feel his hot breath. His lips ghosted over the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, his tongue darting out to tease you. Then, in one smooth motion, his mouth was finally on you.

He started off slow, tongue tracing patterns along your folds, exploring, tasting. Mattheo knew exactly what he was doing, each movement calculated to give you pleasure, to worship you in the most intimate way. He took his time, every touch sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body as if he could savour you.

"Oh fuck," you gasped softly. His tongue found your sensitive bud, and he circled it, flicking it tenderly before taking into his mouth, suckling and tugging gently on it in all the right ways. You couldn’t help but moan, your fingers burying in his hair, holding onto him as if your life depended on it. He continued to pay worship to you with his mouth, like you were a holy place he had long waited to pay a visit.

"Such a good girl, letting me take care of you," he cooed lowly as he sank a finger deep inside you, reveling in the tight heat that welcomed him. He moved slowly, savoring the slick glide as he pumped his finger in and out in a leisurely, steady rhythm. Your body reacted immediately to his presence, soft gasps and moans spilling from your lips.

Every stroke of his digit made your body arch, your breathing ragged and uneven. It felt so good, but yet not enough. "Mattheo," you whined breathlessly, your voice a quiet plea. "Please..."

"Shh, baby girl. It's okay. I got you," he murmured, returning his mouth on your clit. A second finger slid inside, joining the first one in their steady pace. You felt like heaven to him, like the best thing he had ever tasted. His name slipped from your lips, a moan that was music to his ears.

The wet sounds of your heat filled the room, punctuated by your own ragged pants and the occasional whimpers that escaped your mouth. Mattheo continued his ministrations, his tongue and fingers working in tandem to bring you pleasure that you deserved. He could feel you getting wetter under his touch, responding to every move he made. He knew he was good, but the way you always reacted to him, the way you trembled and moaned, made him feel a surge of masculine pride, made him feel like a god.

"I love making you feel good. Love how I can make a pretty, intelligent girl like you whimper like that," he murmured, his tone a seductive and satisfied purr.

The pleasure he was giving you felt endless, a tidal wave of sensations that threatened to drown you in ecstasy. But nothing could prepare you for the moment when he curled his fingers inside you, finding that spot that made you see stars.

The blissful feeling was building, mounting with each flick of his tongue, each expert stroke of his fingers, each praise he was giving to you. Mattheo was relentless in his mission to make you feel wanted, needed, loved — his focus entirely on you. And you fully felt it.

His name spilled from your lips, a mixture of a moan and a plea. Mattheo responded to each of them with a low, satisfied hum, his eyes never leaving your face. He wanted to see every expression, every twist and gasp. He was drinking in the sight of you, completely focusing on your pleasure, on bringing you to the edge and making you feel good, just like you deserved.

The feeling of his fingers and lips on you was nearly overwhelming, and you couldn't help but whine, your voice catching in your throat. Your hands gripped his curls, desperate for something to hold onto, as you felt the tension coil low in your stomach. You were so close, and he knew it by the way your walls started to flutter around his fingers.

"Come for me, love," he coaxed against your skin, the words vibrating through your core. "Be a good girl for me and let go."

Mattheo's words sent another jolt of pleasure through you, and your body obeyed, clenching around his fingers. You felt yourself tipping over the edge, your fingers curled in his curls almost painfully as the tidal wave of the climax crashed over you.

He could feel you arousal gushing around his hand, essence dripping down onto the bed. The sight and sound of you coming undone on his fingers and mouth filled him with a deep sense of pride, possession, and love.

Mattheo didn’t stop. Even as you trembled and bucked against him, he continued his assault, his mouth and tongue relentless as they dragged every last aftershock from your trembling body. His lips and chin were covered in your juices, and the scent of your arousal only made him feel more hazy.

Just before he could overstimulate you, Mattheo carefully withdraw his fingers and mouth, placing the last gentle kiss on your inner thigh. He sat up, licking his fingers with a small smile on his lips, looking like a sated cat under the sun.

Then he bent over to the night table, taking your wand and casting the cleaning spell on both of you before gently pulling your shorts back on. With a satisfied smile he looked down at you, eyes shining with something warm and soft, something that made your heart flutter.

"Feel better, baby girl?" he murmured quietly as he slid back up the bed, gathering you in his arms, his body a comforting weight against yours.

"Always. You're mine to take care of, love," he said quietly in your hair, placing a gentle kiss on your head.

"Mhm," you hummed softly, nuzzling in the crook of his neck. "Thank you, Matty," you mumbled, feeling your body go limp as the tiredness of the day finally caught you in this relaxed and sated state.

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.