Mattheo Riddle X You - Blog Posts

blood moon — t.n. & m.r. part 1

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

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

word count: 4k

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

the purge au… moodboard. nav. more.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You better shut that little mouth—” 

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

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

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

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

Mattheo. 

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

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

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The Fruit of Your Labour

Pairing: Mattheo Riddle x Reader

Wordcount: 1k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He wears his guilt on his face. Good.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You left,” You whisper against his chest.

“I know,” he whispers back.

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

“I’m Voldemort’s son.”

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

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

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

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

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

You take in everything Mattheo says, on guard.

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

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

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

You give his hand another reassuring squeeze.

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

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

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

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

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

Mattheo nods.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Touches

Mattheo Riddle:

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

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

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

Tom Riddle:

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

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

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

Theodore Nott:

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

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

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

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

Making out with them

Mattheo Riddle

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

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

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

Theodore Nott

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

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

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

Tom Riddle

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

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

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

Sleeping with them

Mattheo Riddle

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

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

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

Tom Riddle

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

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

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

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

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.

neglected | mattheo riddle

summary: Theodore completly ignores you and doesnt take it serious that you miss him while he flirts with another girl at a party.. so his best friend has to help you filling up that hole inside your … chest.

warning: cheating? but is it if he does it first?, mattheo eating out the reader, fingering, nipple play, teasing, dirty talk, getting caught, he‘s a munch don‘t fight with me over this -

note: i do not support cheating, this is just for the story

— monday —

I don‘t know how many times I already begged but from time to time.. i felt more and more neglected.

"Theo, please just this one weekend! You had been busy with your friends and studying the last 3 weeks!" Yeah, 3 weeks since my boyfriend went on a date with me, had some quality time or touched me.

"Y/n I told you I don‘t have time. I already promised the boys I‘d come to the party. We‘ll see us there, I have to go study now, with Lydia." Before I could even say a word he left his dorm. I hear a chuckle coming from the other side of the room, making me turn my head in it’s direction.

"Told you you deserve better baby." Mattheo, Theodore‘s best friend said, sitting on his bed. They share a dorm and every now and then he would see Theo and me arguing.

I huff and leave the room, a aching feeling in my body.

— the next day —

"Theo please, I need you. You didn‘t touch me once the last few weeks." I whine into his ear, sitting next to him. He just groans, but not the way I want him to and gets up with his book in his hands. "Don‘t you see that you‘re distracting me?" Irritated he leaves the room, probably walking off to the library again.

Ugh.. i let myself fall back down onto the mattress and cross my arms over my face. Is it my fault? Did my body change somehow? Why the hell won‘t he touch me? But before I could continue my thoughts, I hear the door again, my head shooting up, hoping it is Theo who changed his mind but no, it‘s Mattheo. I groan frustrated and let my head fall back.

"Wow nice to see you too baby, but I think you‘re laying on the wrong bed." he says, teasing me.

"Sometimes I think like that too." I mumble into my arms and more to myself.

"What was that?" he asks. "Nothing."

— two days later —

Patiently I wait on Theo‘s bed, dressed all up.. or down, in his favorite lingerie set and a pair of black knee socks. When we got together half a year ago he told me he loved them on me, made my legs look even longer.

As the door opens my heart starts beating faster and I look up, shrieking and pulling the blanket over my body as I see who it is. "Damn mami is that for me?" Mattheo asks as he stand in front of Theo‘s bed with a smirk on his face, his mouth wide open.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" I asked furious, not wanting him to see me like that. What If Theo comes in and would see us, what would he think?

"Last time I checked this is my room, sweetcheeks." "But you‘re supposed to have quidditch practice!" I whine and look for my clothes.

He chuckles and steps a bit closer as I stand up from the bed. "Could you turn around? I wanna get dressed." "No." "You are such a pain in the ass!" I roll my eyes at him and take my wand, mumbling "Colloportus“. and holding it towards the door so no one can come inside.

I let go of the blanket, thinking fuck it, and grab my skirt, pulling it over my legs and then my hips. "Did your cute little boyfriend leave you unsatisfied again?" he grins and takes a step closer. "You know.. I could help you with that." he says in a suggestive tone. "He’s your best friend Mattheo, stop this shit." "I can’t princess. Hurts me to see that pretty little body of yours, knowing how desperate it must be after all these weeks." he whispers the last part as he lets his fingers slowly brush over my arm, sending shivers down my spine. "See? It’s so hot for just a little attention." "No, it is cold, thats why." I say, swallowing down the clump in my throat as i nod towards the opened window.

Just as I wanted to reach down for my top, I see Mattheo getting down on his knees in front of me. He looks up and licks his lips. Damn.. something about a men on his knees for me made me feel slme type of way.

"Please let me touch your legs, please. Need to know how soft these pretty thighs feel." I could feel his warm breath against my skin, again, sending shivers down my… spine. wet pussy

"Mattheo get the fuck up I swear to god!" i hiss at him. Yes I closed the door with a spell but it wasn‘t really hard for everyone above first years to open it with a spell.

"Please, I swear If you let me just touch it I‘m gonna leave you alone for the rest of the week!" he pleads, looking at my face and then my legs. I sigh as I think about letting him. Damn was I really thinking about it? Am I really going to let my boyfriends best friend touch my thighs?

But I mean.. nothing’s wrong If I don‘t feel anything for it, right? Plus he would just leave me alone for a bit. "Fine." I press out.

As soon as the words leave my mouth, I feel his big warm hands on my thighs. "Shit.." he mumbles as he lets them wander up and down my legs. He slighty squeezes them, making me sigh in relief.

I feel his curls against my skin before I can look down and see him kissing my flesh, grabbing it with a bit more strengh now. I had to bite my bottom lip as he starts massaging them. Completly lost in thoughts, I realize too late what he was doing.

Suddenly he stands up and kisses my cheek "Thank you, doll.", before leaving the dorm and leaving me breathless in the middle of the room. As I slowly come back from the dizzy feeling inside my head I again, stretch over to get my top but gasp with shaky breathing as I see what Mattheo left on my skin.

A hickey. And a bite mark. I didn‘t even notice him biting my leg. Shit.

— Saturday —

To say i was pissed, while sitting on a chair in some corner of the common room, was a big understatement. Theodore and I arrived at the party he talked about a few days ago.. 2hours ago. I saw him drinking with his friends and playing truth or dare in a little group, always walking away from me as soon as I approached him. So I decided to stop chasing him.

"What are you doing here all alone sweetcheeks?" I look to my right and see Mattheo. Of course it was him. "Leave me alone." I say, rolling my eyes and looking back to my boyfriend, sitting beside this girl named Lydia. She was a year under us I think.

Mattheo followed my gaze and shakes his head. "Well , the deal was I would leave you alone till end of the week. The week is over." I don‘t even answer him, not in the mood to argue.

"Yeah thanks for the hickey and the mark between." i say sarcastically. "Yeah it‘s not like your boyfriend would see, right?"

I roll my eyes again and look back at Theodore, to see him standing up. What was he going to do? Suddenly I see him taking Lydia‘s hand, pulling her up with him and kissing her. In shock I opened my mouth, but instead of crying like i normally would, my face got red in anger.

I tried everything and here he stands sucking of the face of that stupid thot. In the middle of the common room? With the girl he "studys" all the time? I bet that’s not the first time they kiss. Mattheo seems to see it too and looks at me more serious now. "Hey.. are you okay? I mean he‘s not worth it If you - " but before he can continue I grab him at the collor of his shirt and drag him with me to his dorm.

— 30 minutes later —

"Oh fuck yes, Mattheo!" I moan into the air, pushing his head against me while his lips suck on my clit, his fingers pumping inside me. "Shit who would have known that you go this feral for my tounge huh?" he smiles and mumbles against my skin.

"Stop talking and continue!" I whine and push his head back. I hear him chuckle before he laps at my throbbing clit again. God If I would have known how good this feels I would have had ended things with Theo way sooner.

His free hand slides across my body up to my left boob where he started to tease my nipple. I gasp and push my hips up, arching my back. My body was so sensitive I wanted to cry out of pleasure everytime he touched me somewhere.

It didn‘t took me long before my body starts trembling and shaking, Mattheo licking everything up as I come on his tounge.

"I could get drunk on your pussy." he groans before kissing me, making me taste myself on his lips.

"I hope you‘re ready cause that pussy screams for me." he whispers against my lips before going down on me again.

A few minutes in I hear someone yell. "WHAT THE FUCK?"

My head shot up and I looked to the door where Theo stood, looking ag us with an angry face.

I saw Mattheo looking at him over his shoulder, smiling at him with glistening lips. "Hey men, hope you don‘t mind? We got the impression you were busy.. never mind – bro how could you not eat that pussy like.. all day?"

"I‘m gonna kill you, Riddle!"

shorter than usual but I liked it 🌼

thanks for reading and supporting 🫶🏻

xoxo sarah <3