#theodorenottsmut
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「 ✦ Not One of your girls.✦ 」
[part1][Theodore Nott × reader] [p2]
Summary: Theodore Nott was the love of my life, the one I'd trade my whole world for. But this summer, I yearned for a different role in his life, even if it meant becoming just one of his girls
Warning:fluff, angst, smut, strong language.
Words:6.5k
Tears? I don't think I had any left. It felt like I'd spent the past month in a self-imposed exile, navigating the city with a map etched into my memory solely to avoid him. Ignoring calls, dodging mutual friends. I'd become a ghost in my own life, flitting from corner to corner, hoping i won’t see him, anything to escape the phantom touch, the memory of his smirk.
Lana's call shattered the fragile peace I'd constructed. Her voice, usually bubbly with gossip, held a worried tremor. "Something's definitely wrong, (Y/N)," Lana had pressed over the phone, her voice laced with concern. "You sound… empty.”
I'd lied, of course. "Just the summer blues, Lani. Missing you like crazy."
"Uh-huh," she said, skepticism thick in her voice. "Well, guess what? I'm finally coming home! You gotta come get me from the airport, promise?"
"Of course," I said easily, even when the thought of the airport twisting the knife in my gut.
“Theo's picking me up, you wanna come with him ?"
"Actually," I hesitated, hating the way my voice betrayed me, "I was kind of thinking maybe I could… tag along with Chris?"
There was a beat of surprised silence, then a slow, knowing chuckle from Lana. "Whoa, okay, didn't see that coming. You sure you don't want me to ask Theo?"
The name sent a fresh spike of pain through me. "Theo? Absolutely not. Have you seen the way he drives?…" I trailed off, unable to voice the truth – anything but Theo.
A pang shot through me as I descended the stairs, catching sight of Mom lost in thought, staring at the picture of Theo, Mattheo, and my brother as kids. They were all smiles, dirt smudged on their faces, a testament to countless childhood adventures. A ghost of a smile touched my lips. "I miss him too," I whispered, reaching out to touch her shoulder.
Mom jumped slightly, startled from her reverie. Her eyes softened the moment they landed on me. "(Y/N)! Honey, I was just about to check on you. Your father and I were getting worried sick." She took my hand, her concern evident in the gentle squeeze.
"Just… thinking," I hedged, forcing a smile onto my face. The last thing I needed was to worry them. "Everything's fine."
Mom eyed me skeptically. "Are you sure? You haven't been yourself lately."
"Just hitting adulthood, finally," I joked, trying to lighten the mood. Mom chuckled, swatting my chest playfully.
"Dinner at the Nott family tonight, don't forget," she announced, and my smile faltered.
"Oh, no, Mom, I… I actually promised my book club I'd be there tonight," I stammered, desperately searching for an excuse. "And you know Lana's still at camp, I think you guys should go without me."
My mom's brow furrowed in confusion. "Book club? Since when? And Lana? Honey, is everything alright?"
The playful glint in her eyes betrayed her. "My little (Y/N) is finally done with her crush on the Nott boy?" she teased, a knowing smile playing on her lips.
My cheeks burned. Forced cheer felt hollow on my tongue. "Mom, stop it! I was a child."
Memories flooded back – seven-year-old me, a torrent of tears streaming down my face, demanding to know why I couldn't marry Theo. "Why can't you just ask Dad to talk to Mr. Nott and arrange something? We'll be perfect together!" I'd sobbed, clinging to her leg. Mom had knelt then, wiping away my tears, and promised she'd think about it when I grew up.
A soft sigh escaped her lips as she leaned down to kiss my cheek. "Alright, sweetie. I'll get your back tonight. Have fun at your book club."
The irony wasn't lost on me. Here I was, meticulously applying a full face of makeup and curling my hair into perfect waves for a nonexistent book club. My reflection in the mirror mocked me – glitter practically danced across my eyelids in the afternoon light, Crisscross Backless Ruched Glitter
Bodycon Dress a stark contrast to the sweatpants I'd worn all day.
But hey, desperate times called for desperate measures. My parents wouldn't question a night out if I looked the part, makeup a dead giveaway. It was a flimsy cover, but hopefully good enough.
Reaching for my lipstick holder, the answer was clear as day. Red. Classic, bold, unapologetic red. It was the perfect armor for the night – a stark reminder to myself that beneath the hurt, beneath the carefully constructed lie, I was still (Y/N). The same girl who knew what she wanted and wasn't afraid to go after it. Maybe Theo didn't see me that way anymore, but that didn't mean I had to lose myself entirely.
Tonight, I was reclaiming my power, one red lip at a time.
Three clicks of the shutter button later, and I deemed myself a goddess incarnate. The glitter shimmered under the lamplight, the perfect complement to the bold red lip. Caption time. A mischievous grin tugged at my lips.
> Now he's thinkin' bout me every night, oh Is it that sweet? I guess so
"Well, hello again, Instagram," I muttered, hitting post with a flourish. It took less than a minute for the validation to flood in.
> @BlaiseZabini: it's me I'm him.
> @LanaNott: girllll save me please save me.
> @MattheoRiddle: who !? C d ?
@EnzoBerkshire: is he why you dumped all of us for (planning a murder).
@christiannott: pretty.
The school crowd joined in the comments their comments a mix of compliments and playful questions. I couldn't help but grin at Blaise, Mattheo, and Enzo's antics.
Just as I settled on popcorn and a night of "The Devil Wears Prada" indulgence, my phone buzzed with a notification I wasn't expecting – a DM. My heart hammered against my ribs. It was from him.
> Theo (hopefully future husband): what kind of bookclub are you at?
I cringed at the outdated nickname in my phone (quickly changing it to "Theodore Nott").
Ignoring the actual question (because seriously?), I left him in read and hit play on the movie. Let him stew in his curiosity for a while.
But just as Meryl Streep was delivering a particularly scathing line, my phone buzzed again. A new message from Theodore Nott.
> theo: answer Y/N
The audacity of this man! I rolled my eyes, grabbed a handful of popcorn, and with a triumphant smirk, sent a single reply: A middle finger emoji .
A blaring ringtone ripped me from a dream .Groaning, I fumbled for my phone, squinting at the caller ID. Lana.
"Hello?" I mumbled, my voice thick with sleep.
"Girl, what the heck? I knew there was something you were hiding! You gonna tell me everything when I arrive?"
I flopped back against the pillows, belatedly registering the popcorn scattered on the duvet and the movie paused mid-scene. My mom must have tucked me in after I dozed off.
"Sure," I mumbled, still foggy and not entirely sure what there was to tell Lana anyway.
"I told Chris he'd wait for you at eight," she chirped.
Eight? Panic jolted me awake. I fumbled for the clock – it was already six.
"Why'd you wake me up now then?" I whined, sleep clinging to me desperately.
"First, how could you sleep when your best friend is finally coming home? Two, because you're taking forever to get ready!"
I rolled my eyes, fighting the urge to sink back into the blissful oblivion of sleep. "Fine, fine," I conceded.
A quick shower later, I threw on a pair of comfy shorts and a t-shirt. Kissing my dad, who'd made a valiant effort to whip up breakfast ("Scrambled eggs are your favorite, right?").
My phone buzzed. Theodore Nott. My heart hammered against my ribs in a frantic rhythm. I looked from the window – his car, sleek and black, was parked at the curb. No sign of Christian's Porsche.
"What the…" I breathed, a mix of anger and confusion swirling in my gut.
"I need to go, Papa," I mumbled, throwing him a quick kiss.
Reaching his car, I yanked open the door. "What are you doing here?" I spat, my voice laced with ice.
Theo didn't even glance at me. "Get in or go inside. I don't have time for this."
"Where's Chris?" I demanded, my jaw clenching.
He finally met my gaze, a flicker of annoyance crossing his features. "Business trip came up. Now get in."
There was no reasoning with him. With a silent snarl of frustration, I climbed into the passenger seat, slamming the door shut with enough force to make the fancy car wince. Not sure if Theo possessed human emotions, but I was pretty sure the love he had for his car was unquestionable.
"Great," he sighed, muttering a curse under his breath. It sounded suspiciously like "Accidenti!" – a mild Italian curse .
The rest of the ride was a tense standoff. I turned on the radio, defiant and childish, only for him to shut it off with a curt gesture. I shot him a fiery glare, then turned it back on, louder this time. The audacity of this man!
He cursed again, a string of angry Italian this time, but I drowned him out with the music, burying myself in my phone to avoid further interaction. The drive, thankfully, wasn't long and soon the familiar sight of the airport terminal loomed ahead.
Theo pulled into the airport garage, his face a mask of irritation. I flung open the door, slamming it shut for good measure. His glare was met with an equally icy stare from me. A quick glance at my watch told me it was 9:55 – hopefully Lana wouldn't make me wait too long. Anything was preferable to another minute in Theo's company.
Relief washed over me when I spotted her, a blur of pink and blonde hair bouncing through the arrivals gate. Her shriek echoed through the terminal as she launched herself at Theo, who caught her in a hug. They looked…comfortable. Happy.
"Look what I got you!" Lana exclaimed, pulling back and revealing a silver bracelet with a delicate Larus bird charm. It was beautiful. My gaze flickered to Theo, who offered a small smile.
"Do you like it?" she chirped, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.
"Of course," Theo replied, leaning down to kiss her forehead. "It's perfect."
Then she was on me, engulfing me in a suffocating hug and babbling a mile a minute in a language that sounded suspiciously like excited Italian. It took a moment to decipher her words.
"Look! I got us matching Larus bird bracelets!" she chirped, holding up another identical bracelet.
I smiled as I took it from her, sliding it onto my wrist. "Thanks, Lana. It's beautiful."
"So, you took good care of her for me, like I asked?" Lana's voice turned teasing, her eyes flitting between Theo and me.
Before Theo could even open his mouth, I shot him a withering look. "You have no idea," I muttered, my voice dripping with sarcasm.
Back in the car, Lana dominated the entire ride with a nonstop stream of chatter. I plastered a smile on my face and offered occasional nods, punctuated by the stolen glance at Theo in the rearview mirror.
Finally, we pulled into my driveway. Lana turned to me, bouncing with barely contained excitement. "Get some sleep, (Y/N)! We're all hitting the beach tonight – no excuses! We'll pick you up at ten, right Theo?"
My heart sank. Theo and I hadn't spoken a single word the entire ride, and the last thing I wanted was to spend another evening in his company.
"I—" I began, but Lana cut me off.
"No buts, (Y/N)! I'm serious," she said, her voice losing its playful edge. Her puppy-dog eyes were impossible to resist. Plus, the thought of disappointing her was unbearable.
With a forced smile, I nodded in agreement. "See you at ten," I mumbled, stepping out of the car I shut the car door with what I hoped was a significant bang (earning a "Hey!" from Theo and a giggle from Lana).
stormed up the steps and into my house. Reaching my room, I flung myself onto the bed and screamed into my pillow.
With a mission in mind, I flung open my dresser drawer. I pulled out the beach dress I'd bought with Mom, the one she'd teased me looked straight out of a goddess painting. "Playing Aphrodite?" she'd chuckled. Maybe a little Aphrodite action wouldn't hurt.
Packing was simple – a book for lounging, my makeup bag (waterproof mascara, a must!), sunscreen (just in case), and a water bottle. An extra layer? Nah, I was channeling beach goddess vibes today.
The pièce de résistance, however, was hidden beneath the dress – a hot pink bikini .
My phone buzzed on the nightstand – Lana calling. I swiped on another layer of lip gloss, the vibrant pink a perfect match for my mischievous mood.
Theo was already waiting by his car, a scowl etched on his face. I marched up to him, a mischievous glint in my eyes, and tossed the beach bag through the air. He caught it with a surprised grunt, his scowl deepening, a single word escaping my lips, "Catch."
A quick hug for Lana later, I slid into the backseat. Reaching for my phone, a notification from Marco, the cute Italian boy I'd met last year while visiting Italy , made me grin. He'd liked my recent post and even sent a DM.
"Hey, Lana," I began, tapping away at my phone, not taking my eyes off the screen as Theo threw the car into gear. "What does 'Mi sono perso nei tuoi occhi' mean?"
Lana's voice squeaked from the front seat. "Oh. My. God. He said… he said he's lost in your eyes! (Y/N), who on earth did you message?" Her voice rose in excitement, her body practically contorting as she tried to snatch a peek at my phone.
I playfully shoved her away as she tried to grab my phone for a closer look. "Stop it lan," I laughed, trying to mask the flutter in my stomach.
"Isn't a little soon to be moving on, (Y/N)?"
My jaw dropped, mirroring Lana's shocked expression in the rearview mirror. My eyes stung with a sudden wave of hurt. "What the actual—move on from what?" Lana sputtered, her voice a mix of outrage and disbelief.
"Can you mind your business, please?" I snapped at Theo, my voice tight with anger.
"Actually, it kind of is," he snapped back, his gaze fixed on the road ahead. "You're stuck with me for the entire day, remember?"
"Since when did you care about anything I did?"
The car swerved slightly as Theo tightened his grip on the wheel. "I care about you not getting hurt," he growled.
"Hurt? From a harmless compliment?" I spat. "Maybe you should worry more about the real hurt you caused, Theo."
Lana's voice cut through the tension, sharp and laced with genuine concern. "What? What do you mean, (Y/N)? What hurt did he cause?"
"I—" I started, the words catching in my throat."I didn't mean myself," the lie tasting bitter on my tongue.
He looked at me then, his gaze flickering to the tears welling up in my eyes.
I couldn't take it anymore. I grabbed my AirPods, the familiar comfort a lifeline in the storm. Cranking the volume to full blast, I shut out the world, focusing on the music that pulsed in my ears. I stared out the window, the world blurring into a watercolor mess.
The car jolted to a stop, and I practically leaped out before it even came to a complete halt. Grabbing my bag, I stormed towards the beach, the setting sun painting the sky in fiery hues. The familiar sight of the carnival near the shore grounded me slightly.
Enzo, was the first to spot me. He erupted in a whoop, and I practically dived into his welcoming embrace. The rest of the group soon followed, a cacophony of greetings washing over me.
Blaise, ambled towards me, a sheepish grin plastered on his face. I promptly blocked him with a hand on his chest. "You, Blaise, are officially banned from my life for at least another month."
"Come on, (Y/N)! I already took enough abuse on my beautiful face that night from that..." he trailed off, his eyes flicking towards Theo.
"Not a word," I hissed, cutting him off before he could spill the beans. "Don't you dare say a thing about it, or you're dead, Blaise. I swear."
A flicker of surprise crossed his face, quickly replaced by a resigned nod. "Alright, alright, secrets are safe with me." He slunk away, plopping down on the sand beside Enzo.
Across from me, Theo sat his gaze boring into me with an intensity that sent shivers down my spine. He kept staring,His gaze was intense, burning into mine like he could see right through me, so I used the tried and true method – a good old-fashioned middle finger.
He met my gesture with a head shake, a hint of a smile playing on his lips as he lit a cigarette.
The sounds of laughter and chatter filled the air as our friends settled in for the evening. Inside, I felt a storm brewing – a mix of anger, hurt, and a strange, unidentifiable longing.
"Alright, guys! Who's up for truth or dare?" Lana's voice boomed, shattering the fragile peace.
"Childish," Mattheo scoffed.
"Pleeeease?" Lana pleaded, batting her eyelashes at him. He caved with a sigh, a lovesick smile playing on his lips.
"Actually, I have a bottle," I announced, reaching into my bag and pulling out my water bottle.
"Always prepared, sweet (Y/N)," Draco teased, blowing me a kiss. I countered with a playful air kiss.
"Not playing," Theo mumbled, blowing another smoke ring into the air.
"Coward," I whispered, not sure if he heard me. But apparently, he did.
"What did you say?" he challenged, his gaze hardening.
"Coward," I repeated, my voice gaining strength with each iteration. "Coward, coward, coward." I batted my eyelashes with a saccharine smile. "Want me to say it louder?"
"Okay, enough," Mattheo interjected, shooting a warning look at both of us. "You're playing, and you're going to stop."
Enzo, grabbed the bottle from me. "Let's get this party started, then! Spin it!"
The bottle wobbled and spun, finally landing on Lana with a triumphant thud.
"Truth or dare?" Enzo grinned.
"Dare!" she declared, her eyes sparkling with excitement.
"I dare you to reveal one of (Y/N)'s secrets," he challenged, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
Lana's jaw dropped.
"It's okay, Lani," I mumbled, "Choose whatever you want, babe. No secrets here."
"Holy moly, you're not scared?" Blaise exclaimed, his eyebrows raised in surprise.
"I don't regret anything I do," I declared, holding Theo's gaze. "If it was a secret, it means I didn't want it out there enough. So, not worth keeping."
My defiance sent a smirk across my face, but inside, I was a mess. Theo muttered a barely audible curse under his breath.
Lana, ever the drama queen, paused for effect. "Well, you definitely have a thing for Italian! You might not have said it, but I just know..." she leaned in conspiratorially, "...saying one simple phrase in Italian would have you blushing like crazy, thinking it's a marriage proposal."
A roar of laughter erupted from the group, even Theo cracking a small smile.
"Buongiorno, bella," Blaise cooed in his best Italian accent, earning another round of laughter and a playful shove from me.
We continued playing truth or dare, the mood a strange mix of tension and laughter. The bottle finally landed on Blaise, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
He leaned in, his voice barely a whisper, "Remember our little agreement, (Y/N)?" I pursed my lips, silently mouthing, "Don't cross the line." He winked, then addressed me in a louder voice, "Truth or dare?"
"Dare," I declared, a defiant edge to my voice.
"I dare you to take your dress off " he started, his voice trailing off dramatically.
A collective groan went up, except for Mattheo who smirked, and Enzo who playfully swatted Blaise's shoulder.
"What are you? a ten years old? You think I'd run away crying?" I challenged, a spark of defiance igniting within me. In one swift motion, I slipped out of the flowy beach dress, revealing the hot pink bikini underneath.
A low whistle escaped Blaise's lips. "Damn, girl! No wonder poor Cedric stood no chance. You could've driven him crazy with that bod."
I winked at him, relishing the surprised look on Lana's face. "Something to consider," I joked, trying to mask the storm of emotions brewing inside.
Theo, however, seemed less amused. "For f*ck's sake," he muttered under his breath, his voice laced with a hint of something I couldn't decipher.
Blaise smirked. "What's wrong, Theo? Can't handle the heat?"
For a second, I thought Theo was going to kill him. He clenched his jaw, his gaze burning into Blaise. "Just finish this stupid game already," he growled.
The tension was thick enough to choke on, and I decided to take back control. I snatched the bottle, spinning it with a flick of my wrist. As if mocking me, it landed squarely on Theo.
"Truth or dare?" I asked, my voice steady despite the tremor in my heart. Meeting his gaze was like looking into a stormy sea – the pain, confusion, and maybe even a flicker of longing swirling within.
"Truth," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Do you regret anything… right now?" Each word felt like a shard of glass in my throat, but I forced them out.
He held my gaze for an agonizing moment, then let out a ragged breath. "No," he finally said.
The answer hit me like a physical blow. It was the confirmation of what I'd already suspected, yet it still managed to shatter the fragile hope that had flickered within me.
We played two more rounds, the air heavy with unspoken words. Lana, seemingly oblivious to the tension, had dozed off, her head resting on my lap.
"I'm taking her to bed," Theo announced, bending down to scoop her up gently.
The sunrise was painting the sky in vibrant hues of orange and pink, casting long shadows on the beach. I closed my eyes, needing an escape from the whirlwind of emotions. "Going for a swim," I mumbled, a hollow ache settling in my chest.
Without waiting for a response, I raced towards the water, the cool waves washing over me as I plunged into the ocean. The salty water stung my eyes, but I didn't bother to brush it away. Here, in the vastness of the ocean, I could finally let go of the facade of bravado and let the tears flow freely.
I swam until my muscles screamed in protest. Exhausted but strangely calm, I watched as the others retreated to the house, leaving me alone with the sound of the waves crashing against the shore. Pushing the wet hair out of my face, I waded back to the beach, shivering as the cool morning air hit my damp skin.
Walking towards the back of the house, the first rays of sunlight warmed my back. I turned a corner, and just like that, I slammed into a solid wall of muscle. It was Theo.
I stumbled back, heart hammering against my ribs. "What are you doing here?" I snapped, the anger a shield against the vulnerability I refused to show.
"Enough, (Y/N). Stop this foolish game," he said, his voice low and intense.
"Foolish game? Don't you dare call my life a game, Theo," I spat, fury bubbling up inside me.
He stepped closer, his hand reaching out to grab my waist. Before I could react, he'd captured both my wrists in one of his large hands. He was close, so close I could feel the heat radiating off his body, his cologne a familiar scent that sent a shiver down my spine.
My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs, caught between the fear of getting hurt again and the undeniable pull I felt towards him.
"That?" he said, his voice laced with frustration as his gaze flickered down to the pink bikini clinging to my curves. "Is this what you're doing? Whoring yourself out?"
A bitter laugh escaped my lips. "Whoring myself out?" I mocked him. "Why do you even care, Theo? You made it perfectly clear you don't give a damn what I do, who I'm with, how I act."
He looked at me, his jaw clenched tight. "You will go inside," he said, his voice a low growl. "You will stop whatever you are doing, and you will not… whore yourself out like that again. Understood?"
The possessiveness in his voice, the way his gaze lingered on my body, sent a jolt through me. But I wouldn't let him control me.
I yanked my hands free, taking a step back. "You have no right to tell me what to do."
His eyes narrowed, but then he shifted his gaze, and for a fleeting moment, it landed on my lips. My breath hitched, my body reacting instinctively to his silent scrutiny.
He cleared his throat, the tension in the air crackling like electricity. "Y/N," he warned, his voice a husky whisper.
Then, before I could even process what was happening, he leaned in.
A mischievous grin spread across my face. "Were you watching me swim?" I asked, tilting my head up to meet his gaze.
He didn't answer, his jaw clenched tight. But something in his eyes, a flicker of heat, betrayed him.
"Just making sure you didn't drown," he finally muttered, his voice gruff.
I couldn't help myself. I burst out laughing. "So that's why you're so… hard right now?" I teased, my voice dripping with playful innocence.
He glared at me, but there was a hint of something else in his eyes.”No,”.
I could feel the tension between us, thick and palpable. Theo's breathing was ragged, his words barely coherent as I teased him, my hand brushing over his stomach under his t-shirt.
"Are you sure?" I whispered, fluttering my lashes at him with a practiced innocence.
"Yeah," he managed to force out, his voice rough and unsteady. I saw his Adam's apple bob with a swallow as my hand grazed lower, sending a jolt through him.“Fuck y/n”
A smirk played on my lips as I traced a finger along his jawline. "Is that what you say when you… touch yourself?" I teased, my voice dripping with a sweetness that seemed foreign on my tongue. "Do you think of me?"
He looked at me, his gaze intense, his reply barely a gasp. "No."
"No?" I feigned surprise, leaning in closer. "So, you don't want me to help you now?" I purred, my voice dropping to a seductive murmur. "You don't want me to…" I trailed off.
"Get on my knees, right here, right now?" I finished suggestively.
He didn't respond, his breathing ragged and shallow. I pressed on, my voice dropping to a husky whisper. "I would let you," I breathed,"I would let you take me right here, right now. You could do whatever you wanted to me, anything at all."``
"Would you want me to do that?" I whispered, feeling his hand grip the wall for support.
I grabbed his hand and put on the heat between my thighs. A sharp gasp escaped my lips as his fingers grazed me, sending a jolt of electricity through my body. "See, I'm so wet already," I breathed, he leaned down, urgency in his kiss. I met him halfway, the taste of him both familiar and forbidden.
We broke apart, gasping for air. Before his lips could find mine again, I distracted him, freeing one hand and guiding his face towards the sensitive skin of my neck. His lips and tongue danced across the exposed flesh, sending shivers down my spine.
With his hair caught in my hand, I pulled his head back, then sank to my knees in front of him. Looking up at him, I whispered, "Can I, please?"
"Fuck," he muttered, nodding reluctantly.
I unbuttoned his jeans, looking up at him as I lowered his boxers. "You're so hard, Theo," I remarked, meeting his gaze. "It must be painful, isn't it?"
As I took him in, I continued in a feigned innocence, "You know, I've never done this before, Theo. Never been on my knees like this for someone before."
"But I'll do it for you," I whispered, locking eyes with him. "Because I'll do anything for you, even if you hurt me. I don't care."
I wrapped my lips around the head of his cock, feeling him twitch in response. He cursed, and I pulled away, planting soft kisses along his length. "So, you didn’t think of me doing that when you masturbate?" I asked, my voice teasing.
"I did—fuck, I did, and I hated myself for that," he confessed, his voice strained with desire.
I started to slide my mouth down his shaft, tasting the salty precum that had already leaked out. He moaned, his hands tangling in my hair as I took him deeper, swirling my tongue around him.
"Oh, fuck,", his praise spurring me on. "That feels so good, baby. You're so good at this."
I started to move my head up and down, taking him deeper with each stroke. I could feel him getting harder in my mouth, and I knew he was enjoying this.
"Yes, just like that," Theo said, his voice strained.
I started to suck harder, using my tongue to tease the sensitive skin of his cock. I could feel him getting closer to the edge, and I knew I had to keep going.
I wrapped my hand around the base of his cock, my fingers gripping him tightly as I began to move my head back and forth. I took him deeper, feeling his cock hit the back of my throat. I could feel him pulsing in my mouth, and I knew he was about to cum.
"Fuck, I'm gonna cum," he groaned, his grip in my hair tightening.
I continued, sucking harder and faster, bringing him to the edge. But just as he was about to release, I pulled away abruptly.
"What —what the fuck?"
I stood up, pushing my hair back with a smirk. "So, you believed that?" I asked, seeing the confusion and frustration in his eyes.
"Believed what?" he asked, breathing heavily and clearly confused.
"That night, did you actually believe what I said?" I taunted, tracing his face lightly with my fingertips. "I just said what I had to get what I wanted, Theo. And it worked. I had you. It was… fun."
I continued, reveling in the power shift, "so actually you were one of my boys, all wrapped around my finger."
"I would pull my jeans up if I were you," I advised with a finality that hung heavy in the air.
Every word that tumbled out of my mouth was a lie, a carefully woven tapestry of deceit designed to inflict the same searing pain I felt. I wanted him to see himself reflected in the cruel mirror of my words, to understand the depth of the wound he'd left gaping in my heart.
I turned away, heading back to the house and eventually to the shared room with Lana. Once in the bathroom, I started the shower and sank to the ground, my legs giving out beneath me, as I let out a sob that wracked my entire body. The pain of his rejection, the guilt of my actions, the hurt of my unrequited love – it all came crashing down upon me in a wave of despair.
The drive home was a suffocating silence, punctuated only by the rhythmic hum of the engine. I'd fabricated a story about catching the flu, needing to rest. The lietasted acrid on my tongue, but facing Lana, facing anyone, felt impossible.
Back in my room, the familiar walls seemed to close in on me. I sank onto the bed, burying myself in the covers. Theo's calls came one after another, his texts a constant reminder of the conversation left hanging. "We need to talk," they pleaded, each message a fresh wave of guilt crashing over me.
The sting of betrayal still lingered, but today, I craved solace. Seeking refuge in a familiar spot, I found myself nestled amongst the vibrant blooms near the bridge. Here, the gentle murmur of the water and the sweet scent of flowers offered a temporary escape.
Time seemed to blur as I sat there, lost in thought. Then, a shadow fell across me. Startled, I looked up to find Theo's hesitant gaze. Surprise momentarily rendered me speechless.
"Can I sit?" he asked, his voice laced with a vulnerability I hadn't seen before. A silent nod was all I could manage.
He lowered himself beside me, leaning back against the tree trunk. The silence between us was thick, heavy with unspoken emotions. My gaze drifted across the field, a silent plea for him to break the tension.
"The night before it happened…" he began, his voice thick with emotion, "I promised your brother I'd take care of you."
My head snapped towards him, surprise etching across my face.
"I promised," he continued, meeting my gaze. "That's why I tried so hard to push you away. I couldn't bear the thought of anything happening to you, of failing him."
A wave of guilt washed over me. "Theo…" I began, but he cut me off, his hand reaching out to clasp mine.
"It didn't work, though, did it?" he said, a wry smile playing on his lips. "I told myself I should only see you as a sister, but I couldn't. And that scared me. So I tried to push you away, as much as it hurt me"
"it did hurt me too y/n," he admitted. "The moment you kissed me…everything changed. I didn’t know you felt the same. It, and it scared me. I needed to regain control."
A lump formed in my throat as he revealed his turmoil. "Then the kiss," he continued, his voice barely a rasp. "Everything changed. I didn't know you felt that way, and I panicked. Tried to regain control."
A tear escaped, tracing a glistening path down my cheek. "When Blaise brought you in... this night" he continued, his eyes searching mine, "I was a wreck. I felt like I'd betrayed your brother, tainted something so pure."
"What I did after, it was unfair. Unforgivable. You're not just another girl, Y/N. You're the only one. The only one I want. And even if it takes a lifetime to make things right, I will. Because I love you. I can't hide it anymore."
Tears welled up in my eyes, threatening to spill over. "I didn't mean anything I said at the beach," I confessed. "I just... I wanted to hurt you like you hurt me."
He reached out, his hand gently cupping my face. "We messed up," i said, "We hurt each other."
Tears escaped, tracing warm paths down my cheeks. "But maybe we can fix it," I whispered, a sliver of hope flickering within me.
He brushed away my tears, his touch so soft . "I deserve the pain," he say,"But you don't. I'm so sorry, Y/N. So sorry for everything."
A bittersweet smile spread across my face. "I love you too," I confessed, the words tumbling out like a long-held secret. It felt surreal, a dream come true whispered on the wind.
He leaned in slowly, his lips brushing mine in a soft, tentative kiss. It was a perfect collision of emotions – tenderness, passion, and a promise of a new beginning. He deepened the kiss, pulling me onto his lap, our bodies aligning perfectly.
When he pulled away, his eyes sparkled with an intensity that sent a jolt through me. "Give me a chance," he pleaded. "To make things right. I'll never hurt you again. I don't deserve forgiveness, but I'm begging for it. Please, let me make it up to you."
"I forgave you already," I admitted, "but can you say it again? Just to be sure I didn't imagine it."
A smile, genuine and heartfelt, softened his features. He leaned back in, his lips whispering the words against mine, "I love you, Y/N L/N."
My heart soared. "I think I might die happy right now," I joked, trying to lighten the mood.
Suddenly, a nagging thought surfaced. "But what about Lana? We need to tell her."
Theo's smile faltered for a moment. "Believe me, she knows," he said with a sigh. "Apparently, she's celebrating you being her 'sister' and even thanked me for it."
I couldn't help but laugh. It sounded like something Lana would do. "Of course, that sounds like her,"
Suddenly, a playful glint sparked in his eyes. "Now," he drawled, a hint of jealousy lacing his voice, "about that Italian boy?"
I couldn't help but burst into laughter. Leaning in, I wrapped my arms around him, burying my face in his chest. "There's nothing to worry about," I mumbled against his shirt.
He chuckled, the sound vibrating through me. "Good," he said, his arms tightening around me in a possessive hug. "Because I was planning a little trip to Italy."
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
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#slytherin boys#slytherin boys x reader#slytherin boys x you#fluff imagines#theodore nott#theodore nott x reader#theodore nott x y/n#theodore nott imagine#theodorenottsmut#theodore nott masterlist#theodore nott smut
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jealousy. | slytherin boy headcanons
author’s note: im completely unhinged, as always. no surprise there. love me some angry snake men🥵 please enjoy.
-your boyfriend sees another guy flirting with you in the hall.
Draco Malfoy.
Sees you from down the hall as he’s walking with his friends.
“You know what, guys, I’ll catch up with you after.”
Would literally ditch his friends to make his way over, collecting himself as saunters up to you and mystery man.
Would instantly grab your ass, no hesitation, grip firm enough to bruise. When you gasp, caught off guard, he’d shift his arm up and around your shoulder, pulling you against him.
“What’re we talking about?” He’d sneer.
His voice would be laced with feign interest, smirking down at you with blaring eyes before shooting daggers at the boy.
He’d simply chuckle at you when you tell him nothing, just school stuff, leaning down to place a possessive kiss on your cheek as he grabbed your hand.
“Wonderful. let’s head to class, yeah?”
He’d pull you away from that dude, shooting him another look meant to kill, a silent warning not to fuck with him.
Finally gets you alone in an empty corridor or bathroom; would waste literally no time at all before pushing you against the wall and grabbing your neck/jaw.
“Who the fuck was that, hm?”, “he was practically eye-fucking you…give me five good reasons why i shouldn’t have him expelled or hexed into bloody Azkaban.”
He’d be furious, but he’d also know that you’d never choose some other guy over him, so he’d soften once he hears the innocence in your tone.
“You’re mine, princess,” he’d loosen his grip, kissing you softly. “Say it.”
Blaise Zabini.
Was listening to music while walking down the hall, instantly rips out his headphones the second he sees you laughing a little too hard with some dude he doesn’t know.
He doesn’t necessarily stop walking, but he’d definitely slow his pace, kind of just watching, not wanting to interfere but also not wanting to look creepy stalking you from a distance.
When the guy doesn’t leave, he’d tired of waiting, saying “fuck it”, before marching over naturally.
This man is so fucking cool calm and collected he’d just saunter right up and join in, making himself at home.
He’d practically take over the conversation because he’s literally just that chill in every situation, seamlessly fitting right in, so fucking charming and loved by everyone.
You’d kind of just end up staring at him, smiling in silent awe, knowing that this was his way of asserting his place, letting the guy know what the fuck was up.
After the dude leaves he’d just causally look at you, smirking that charming smirk, wetting his lips as he hooked an arm around your shoulder and pulled you close, leaning down for a kiss.
“Ain’t no one getting you without getting me too, babygirl.” He’d murmur against your lips. “let that be known, right now, forever, always.”
Lorenzo Berkshire.
Would literally stop everything. The second he’d see you laughing and smiling he’d be completely unable to focus on anything else and would completely zone out of any conversations with his friends.
Would get like super anxious and flustered pretty much immediately.
Wouldn’t want to intrude so he’d just kind of hang back, wait for you against the wall and try not to stare too much.
His adorable little cheeks would flush, and he’d know he seemed utterly ridiculous so he’d try to busy himself with his shoelace or something while he waits.
You’d quickly cut off the conversation and move over to him, instantly being able to tell that he’s overthinking.
He’d smile at you, though you could still see the concern on his features.
“Who was that guy, darling?”
You’d tell him he was just a friend from class, no one special at all, pulling him in for a hug and giving him a quick smoochie on the cheek.
“Don’t worry enz, no one could ever take your place.”
He’d blush, trying to play it off. “Sorry love, I know you’re my girl.”
You’d take his hand, squeezing him hard, never wanting him to doubt that for a second. “Only yours baby, forever.”
Mattheo Riddle.
“Who the fuck-“
Would literally whip his bag at Theo, hastily shoving through the crowded hallway with blazing eyes, tunnel visioned as he tried to figure out where the fuck this dude found the audacity.
You wouldn’t even have to turn around to know he’s there, you’d be able to literally feel the anger radiating off of him.
You’d already know exactly where this was heading, but you’d also know there was no attempting to stop him because it’s pointless. Everyone in the school knows that.
Matty does what Matty wants, and right now, he wants to fuck up this guys face for even thinking about flirting with you.
You’d simply look up at him, noting his tensed jaw and his dark eyes as he glances between you and the dude, before fixing back on you, wetting his lips before he says,
“Is this fucker bothering you?”
Unable to help it, you’d smirk, shaking your head as you calmly attempted to talk him down.
“No Matty, he just asked if he could borrow my study notes-“
He’d heard more than enough.
“Study notes? Yeah, I don’t fucking think so,”
Without giving the guy a chance to react, he’d reach for his collar, shoving his back against the wall, teeth barred and face contorted in a snarl as he’d hiss:
“Bother my fucking girlfriend again and the only study notes you’ll need are the ones on how to drink out of a fucking straw, understand?”
Not interested in the response, he’d shove the guy away, eyes softening instantly as he moved back over to you, thrusting a hand through your hair as he kissed you like it’d been a hundred years, right in the middle of the hall for everyone to see.
And judging by the intensity in his grip, you’d already know, later that night, he’d be extra fucking sure to ask you who the fuck you belong to while he’s fucking you.
When he finally pulled back, he’d smirk at you. “Some bloody nerve on that guy, huh?”
You’d just shake your head and laugh, taking his hand as the two of you headed for class.
Theodore Nott.
He’d spot you from down the hall, his eyes instantly narrowing, gaze darting around as though he was missing something, as though this was some sort of sick joke.
Surely, this dude is mentally unwell, right? There’s no fucking way that he’s-
Doesn’t bother to think about it for even another fucking second, instantly shoving through the crowd to make his way over.
Proceeds to wrap his arm around your waist, other hand finding your jaw and pulling your lips to his before you could even process it.
Would proceed to full-on make out with you in front of the dude, and I mean tongue and all, his grip on your jaw so tight you’d know exactly what he was trying to do.
His hand around your waist might even slip lower, grazing over your ass, and then that’s when you’d attempt to gather yourself and push him back, completely embarrassed.
He’d just shrug, smirking down at you before he’d finally acknowledge the guys’ presence with literally nothing more than a glare meant to kill.
“Move along,” he’d say to the guy while pulling you away, grip tighter than ever. “This one’s fucking taken.”
As soon as he got you alone he’d be damn sure to remind you that you’re his, and only his, making you beg and whine his name before he fucked you like you deserved the pain.
Tom Riddle.
“AVADA KEDA-“
Lowkey kidding but not really.
No one would even dare because that man would make it clear as fucking day what would happen if they tried.
#harry potter#draco malfoy smut#draco malfoy#lorenzo berkshire#tom riddle smut#tom riddle#tom riddle x reader#mattheo riddle smut#mattheosmut#mattheoriddle#mattheo smut#mattheo riddle#severus snape#tomriddle smut#tomriddle x reader#tomriddlesmut#blaise zabini#blaisezabini#theoriddlesmut#theodorenottsmut#theodore smut#theodore nott x reader#theodore nott smut#theoriddle#theo nott x reader#theo nott smut#theodorenott#theo riddle#dracomalfoy#draco smut
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I don’t know what to do
#robbie kay smut#mattheo riddle smut#lorenzoberkshiresmut#Theodorenottsmut#dracomalfoysmut#Peterpansmut#peterparker#tomholland#spidermansmut#onceuponatimesmut#harrypottersmut
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Theodore Nott. | that’s what i said.
info: your boyfriend was telling you about his day, when he began speaking fluent Italian, knowing damn well you only knew select words. when you asked him to repeat it, he had you come sit on his lap and ended up doing a little more than just repeating it.
word count: 3k
tags: 18+, literally pure smut. pure lorenzo italian daddy type smut. lots of italian translation (apologies to all my italians out there if they’re a little off) lots of praise, riding, piv, dirty talk.
Reclining across from you, Theodore Nott your lovely boyfriend, exuded an air of relaxed confidence while seated comfortably on the expansive leather couch in his dorm room. His legs were stretched wide, one arm casually draped over the armrest--each of his current mannerisms acting as physical testaments to the ease with which he inhabited the space.
As he delved into the narrative of his day, you, nestled in the love seat opposite him, eagerly absorbed the symphony of his voice. It was a melody that effortlessly traversed between English and Italian, a linguistic dance that had always held a special place in your heart.
His words held an irresistible charm, each syllable cascading like liquid honey off his tongue. The profound rasp of his voice, entwined with his seductive Italian accent stirred something indescribable within your body. The prospect of listening to him like this every day for the rest of your life fueled your anticipation, a certainty that the allure would never lose its magic. It was a sensation you eagerly anticipated, knowing that the richness of his voice would forever remain a timeless delight.
Yet, within the fluidity of his storytelling, Theodore suddenly shifted into Italian, weaving complete sentences with a gaze that lingered through half-lidded eyes, as if this linguistic transformation were the most natural thing in the world. Ordinarily, you might have interrupted him, gently reminding him of your language limitations, but today, well, you just couldn't bring yourself to do so.
You were almost in awe, unable to deny that there was an enchanting quality to the way the words curled off his tongue. That, coupled with the intensity of his stare, seemingly compelled you to stay silent, as if under a trance. You found yourself captivated, clinging to every indecipherable syllable, a familiar heat beginning to kindle between your thighs.
It was as if he momentarily lost himself in the labyrinth of his thoughts, forgetting, if only for an instant, that your understanding of the language was confined solely to select phrases and words. This linguistic detour left you with a quizzical frown, a silent plea for translation in the midst of his enchanting monologue, and finally, noting your confusion after what felt like ages, he paused, cocking a charming eyebrow at you.
"Something on your mind, Bella?" he teased, leisurely spreading his legs further as his gaze meandered from your eyes to your lips, only to return, locking onto your gaze once more. "You appear a touch...lost."
"Theo, I must confess--I haven't the slightest idea what you just said," you admitted, a playful pout gracing your lips. Your eyes sparkled with a blend of curiosity and mischief. "And I know you're well aware that was far beyond my linguistic expertise."
"All this time, and you still haven't mastered my language, Bella Mia..." Theo, with a dramatic flair, feigned a hurt expression, his stormy eyes widening ever so slightly. "You're truly breaking my heart."
Smirking, you teased, "forgive me, amore..." your fingers traced an absent pattern on the armrest, a subtle invitation. "Please, feel free to repeat it--I love the way it sounds..."
A mischievous glint sparked behind his irises, a playful confidence dancing in their depths. With a self-assured grin, he patted his lap invitingly, his messy brown locks falling effortlessly over his forehead.
"Why don't you come over here," he suggested, his tone velvety, "and I'll gladly repeat it for you?"
Your grin widened, a flicker of anticipation igniting within you as you slowly rose from the chair, not needing a second thought. His burning stare followed your every move as you veered closer to him, an intensity in his eyes that set your senses ablaze without effort. As you approached, a slow, deliberate stride, the air thickened with a tangible tension, your pulse thumping in your throat.
No matter the duration of your relationship with Theo, each touch remained an electric encounter, perpetually reminiscent of the initial spark. His reverence for your body endured, a devotion that unfolded afresh with every caress, as if every moment were a new discovery for his hands and eyes.
Stalling in front of him, you giddily pulled your lip between your teeth as his hands found yours, guiding them to his shoulders as he pulled you down to straddle his lap. The warmth of his embrace enveloped you, his hands finding a natural place on your hips.
"Mm," he purred, burying his head in the crook of your neck, inhaling a sharp breath as his fingers dug into your skin. "So beautiful, Bella..."
You stifled a mewl as he pressed careless kisses along your neck, the playful banter giving way to a charged silence as his teeth softly grazed your pulse--the unspoken language between you both pulsating with desire and connection. The messy brown waves of his hair framed a face now tinged with a sultry charm, and the mischievous glint in his eyes promised a shared secret in the language only you two understood.
As if completely instinctively, you rolled your hips against his crotch, head falling back as his hands slid around to your ass, groaning against your neck as he aided your movements, guiding you back and forth against his growing bulge. You could already feel him throbbing beneath you, your cunt clenching in need for his touch as the only thing separating your heat from his groin was your thin layer of underwear, rubbing against his trousers.
"Ho voluto scoparti tutto il giorno..." he murmured, the same phrase he'd said earlier, the one in which you didn't understand. "...sei tutto ciò a cui riesco a pensare."
Your brows furrowed, about to question him, but exasperation quickly took over as he sank his teeth into your neck. He left vivid, possessive marks on your skin, his hands sliding up and under your skirt, tracing the supple contours of your ass. As you continued to move against him, a whirlwind of desire engulfed you, and you quickly lost yourself in the intoxicating rush.
"You're so fucking sexy," he breathed, his voice a low, deep murmur, reverberating a shudder of desire down your spine, his tongue trailing a flat stripe up the side of your throat. "Ho bisogno di te, mia bellissima piccola troia." (I need you, my beautiful little slut.)
"Theo..." you whimpered, your hands entwining in his hair, fingers weaving through his tousled auburn locks. His mouth ascended, planting tender, moist kisses along the ridge of your jawline. "Please-please-"
"Mm, you like that don't you, principessa?" His voice was a seductive purr, the words wrapping around you like silk as he pulled back a hand and gave you a sharp smack on your ass, eliciting an immediate squeal from your throat. "Tu ami grinding that dolce piccola figa on me like this, hm?..." (you love)(sweet little pussy)
In response to his words, an unabashed moan escaped your lips, louder than you had initially intended. Theo responded with a low growl, his free hand moving to your jaw, cradling it delicately as he guided your lips to his. The ensuing kiss spoke a language of its own--one of desire, need, and an unfiltered passion that surpassed any linguistic expression.
Your hold on his hair intensified as you pressed against him more urgently, the rhythm quickening. His tongue boldly slipped past your teeth, exploring your mouth with fervor. Simultaneously, his hands glided to the hem of your blouse, lifting it along your stomach. The kiss briefly broke as he encouraged your arms upward, swiftly pulling your shirt over your head and discarding it on the floor.
"Così bella..." he praised, his eyes fixated on your chest adorned by the delicate, lacy fabric of your white bralette. The intensity in his gaze felt scorching, as if it could sear your skin to ash. "Così, così bella, amore mio..." (So beautiful)(so, so beautiful, my love...)
His words took your breath away, slamming your chest like a fifty pound brick, the worship in his tone enough to render you speechless. You writhed in his lap, seeking friction, more friction that what you were currently experiencing--wanting him; needing him in every possible way. You captured his lips again, rolling your hips harder, the deep moan that escaped him found itself muffled by your mouth as you worked at the buttons on his shirt, fervently popping them free as quickly as you could.
The second his chest was exposed, you scoured it like a starved animal, the skin-on-skin contact sending a desperate clench to your cunt. You mapped his muscles to your memory as though it was the first time you'd ever seen them--the strength of his biceps, his strong, powerful abdomen, all of it hot and vibrating with need--you were breathless at the sight of his beauty under your palms, a feeling that had never once even partially faltered, no matter how many times you fucked him.
"Are you going to tell me what you said, Teddy..." you murmured, a playful smile dancing on your lips as your fingers skillfully moved to his belt, assisting in its release. "That was the whole reason I came over here, was it not?"
"Words can wait, amore," Theo muttered, his voice husky with desire, his gaze locked onto yours as he undid the zipper on your skirt, watching with blaring eyes as you tugged it off, along with your panties and tossed them to the floor. "Actions speak louder, don't they?"
"Mmfh," you moaned as he pulled you back against his mouth, his tongue running along your teeth as your bodies rocked together, his fingers gripping and caressing and squeezing every bit of your body that they could.
Pulling away, he met your eyes, heavily panting for breath as he gazed at you with a hunger that matched your own. His hands shifted, urging you to back up for a moment as he pulled his pants and boxers midway down his thighs--growling low in his chest as his thick, throbbing length sprung free, glistening with precum as it smacked against his chiseled stomach. You clenched.
He pulled you back against him, gliding you in slicking your soaked cunt along the length of his cock, his eyes burning wounds into your flesh as he watched you, lost in pleasure, lost in your need for him.
"Lo vuoi, amore mio?" (You want it, my love?) His voice barely rose above a whisper as he posed the question to which he damn well knew the answer. "You want this fucking cock inside that pretty little cunt?"
You shuddered, clenching hard in anticipation, nodding as you leaned closer, grazing your lips against his, panting heavily into his mouth.
"I want to hear you say it," he growled, one hand sliding up beyond your shoulders to grip the back of your neck, locking your gaze onto his. "Beg me to fuck you."
Your nails dug into his shoulders, entire body vibrating. "Please-Theo, please fuck me..."
"No, no," he playfully clucked his tongue, delivering a sharp smack to your ass with his free hand. You instinctively clenched again, the sensation electrifying. "In Italian."
"Gods," you groaned, his ceaseless teasing consistently pushing you to the brink of physical exhilaration in all the most delightful ways. Fortunately, this was a phrase he had taught you from the very beginning, a linguistic lesson that lingered since day one. "Per favore-per favore...ho bisogno di te..." (please-please…I need you.)
He exhaled, grunting. "Good girl."
It was a combined effort--he fisted his length, angling it at your core, your hands clutching his shoulders as you sank onto him, his thick girth stretching you wide with ease. You both collectively groaned, your walls pulsing and clenching around him as you took a second to adjust to his length, before rocking your hips in a slow, erotic rhythm; working yourself open on his cock.
Theo's eyes were glued to yours, watching your every movement as though he was afraid he'd miss something if he looked away. With a grunt, his big hands found your tits, palming and groping at the soft flesh with primal urgency, brushing his thumbs against your nipples, teasing them with soft circles. Your eyes rolled, your head falling back on your shoulders as you increased your pace, soft moans slipping past your lips.
"Esatto, piccola angioletta...così perfetta..." (That's right, little angel... so perfect) he murmured, his voice low, torn with husk. "You're so goddamn tight...squeezing me so good...così buono."
"Gods, Theo..." you whimpered, relishing in how deep he was, how big. "You're so fucking big."
Your boyfriend's hands shifted again, finding your hips, sharp fingernails digging into your skin as he thrust upward to match your movements, his cock hitting all the right spots. Your own fingers burrowed into his shoulders while you throbbed around him, lungs desperate for air, and he snarled, increasing his movements, setting a brutal pace that you couldn't match.
Cries fled you, pushed from your lungs by the carnal force of his hips, and Theodore consumed you--lips sucking at your neck, hands bearing bruises into your ass. His dick stretched you wide, fucked you deep, wracking your body with its punishment, breasts bouncing, his breath coming in ragged gasps against your skin.
You tilted your head back, his fervent mouth tracing down to your collarbone, claiming his territory across as much of your skin as possible. His cock pumped into you, beckoning an orgasm from the bottom of your brain--and as if sensing your clit screaming for attention, his hand snaked between your legs, fingers smoothly gliding over it. In response, you squealed, digging your nails into his shoulders with enough force to shatter the skin, body awash with pleasure.
"That's it, amore..." he groaned, breathless, teeth nipping at your earlobe, free hand gripping your ass with enough force to batter the skin. "Ride me like the good little whore you are."
"Fuck-fuck yes," you cried, your hips moving faster, chasing your orgasm as Theo's fingers rubbed tighter circles against your clit, increasing their relentless pursuit in bringing you over the edge. "Don't stop, Theo-fuck, please don't stop..."
"I won't, my love," he murmured, lips pressed against your ear, breathing the words into your eardrums. "Wouldn't fucking dream of it."
Theo's fingers worked magic on your clit as he thrust up into your cunt faster, harder--his cock hitting your g-spot with each aggressive movement. You could feel the pressure building inside your core, your body coiling like a tightly wound spring as he worked you closer and closer to the edge.
"Theo-" you gasped, your voice practically a scream. "I'm going to-I'm going-"
"Going to what, principessa...hm?" He implored, his voice a low, husky whisper escaping through his teeth; your entire essence pulsating, trembling amid his passionate pursuit. "Verrai per me? That tight little pussy going to cum on my cock?"
You wailed, head falling back, chest swelling for air. "Yes!...Theo-please!"
"Fallo. Cum for me." He graced your ass with another harsh smack, placing wet, sloppy kisses against your jawline. "Let me feel you."
With only a few more strokes, you came undone, cunt clamping around his cock, your whole body shaking as your orgasm washed over your entirety, blazing through every nerve ending and every fucking cell. Theo's fingers continued to rub you through it, prolonging the pleasure until you were left gasping for breath, nothing more than babbling nonsensical moans and pleas leaving your lips in the aftermath of his wrath.
Theo grunted, finally peeling his hand off your clit once you were whimpering and squirming against him, gripping the back of your head and drawing your mouth to his, meeting your lips in a sloppy wet kiss, each of you sucking in sharp breaths through your nostrils as you continued to ride him, your walls tingling in post orgasmic rapture.
"Brava ragazza," he moaned into your mouth, his body shaking with the force of his impending release. "So fucking good, bambina."
His movements grew erratic, hips bucking hard as he struggled to hold off his own orgasm, the force of his pace bordering on violent. You gasped, squealed, held onto him for dear life as you rode him, attempting to match his pace, but he was possessed, starved, breaking the kiss to lean back, both hands gripping your hips, holding you steady.
"You want my cum, little slut? Hm?" He gritted out, forehead glistening with sweat, his pupils blown wide with lust. "You want me to fill up this tight little cunt?"
You gasped, nodding frantically. "Yes! Please-please!"
"fuck...I'm gonna cum..." his lids fluttered, dark eyebrows pinching in concentration, his face contorting into a scowl of effort. "Cristo-you feel così buono-shit.."
With a final thrust, he growled, groaned--his movements slowing, breath sputtering from his lungs as he exploded, pumping once, twice, three times--all before coming to a halt, cock twitching inside you as he drained his hot cum deep into your pussy. Sweat beaded each of your foreheads, bliss buzzing between your bodies as you kissed him softly, panting into his mouth as you each worked silently to come back down to earth, pulses pounding in ruthless rhythm.
Spent and fully sated, Theo cradled the back of your head, pulling you into him, his free arm snaking around your back. You wrapped your arms around his neck, keeping him inside you as you two stayed like that for a moment, relishing in the intimacy between your bodies as he softened, his lips placing tender kisses on your shoulder.
"Ho voluto scoparti tutto il giorno..." he murmured softly, a hint of amusement in his tone as he repeated the words he knew you had no idea of their meaning. "sei tutto ciò a cui riesco a pensare."
"Stop teasing me." You huffed, burying your face into the crook of his neck. "It's not very nice of you, Theo..."
He chuckled, a low hum from deep in his chest, smirking against your skin as he tightened his grip around you, brushing loose strands of hair behind your ear.
“I wanted to fuck you all day...” he murmured, lips brushing your temple. “You’re all I can think about..."
You pulled back, meeting his stormy eyes. "Is that-"
"Yes." He interrupted you with a gentle kiss, smiling against your lips. "That's what I said."
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Mattheo Riddle. | We Are Done
Info: Mattheo calls things off during a nasty fight where you were only expressing your concern for his safety, putting an end to your months-long complicated fling. When he inevitably gets hurt and finds himself in the hospital wing as a result of his recklessness, you pay him a little visit, eager to get your revenge.
Word count: 5k
Tags: 18+, SMUT, Toxic Behaviours, Sadism, Masochism, Intense Bloodplay, Restraint, Dom!Reader, Sub!Mattheo, Begging, PIV, Sexual Punishment, Praise Kink, Degradation Kink, Humiliation.
A/N: went all the way to the depths of hell for this one☠️
The journey from the bustling opulence of the Great Hall to the clinical confines of the hospital wing unfolded like a protracted soul-search, nearly forty minutes of introspection that could have singlehandedly redefined the word regret.
A seething turmoil churned within, its intensity drawn solely from the arid kindling of memories involving your ex fling, Mattheo Riddle. Despite the passing week of newfound solitude, the inner maelstrom showed no fucking signs of abating.
The recollection of your fleeting intimate moments swarmed you, a ceaseless loop that played out in the theater of your mind--like an unresolved holodrama with seemingly no fucking end.
His imprint stained every fragment of your life; in the solitude of the shower, mental echoes followed the course of water, little rivers reminding you of the ones tracing intricate paths down his sculpted physique. Within the shared space of the common room, the mental tableau featured his fingers engaging in an intimate ballet, leaving the taste of his lips lingering in your mouth as they ever-so-dominantly stifled your lusty sounds.
And somehow, that wasn't even the worst of it. Oh, not even close. It was during the nocturnal realm that the memories unfolded their cruelest chapters.
In the shroud of night, it transcended beyond the mere visual replay of his figure dominating yours, or the sensory exploration of his hands traversing the curves of your body. It wasn't just the recollection of his teeth sinking into your neck that lingered. No, the intricacies of your mind wove a far, far more nuanced tapestry.
Nighttime summoned forth the vivid recollection of the encompassing warmth emanating from his broad chest, the haven discovered within the embrace of his strong arms, and the fragrant allure of his messy hair, intertwining with the visceral memories of each intimate encounter. His burning gaze that had seared into your consciousness was more than a mere look; it was an indelible mark, haunting the very core of your thoughts with the echoes of shared passion.
These were the nocturnal specters that besieged you behind closed lids, engaging in an unwelcome dance as you wrestled with the elusive embrace of sleep. These very memories, like a relentless blacksmith, stoked the inferno within, leaving behind the most acrid, bitter residue on your tongue--a taste of anguish and betrayal.
The haunting question echoed through the corridors of your thoughts: why had he subjected you to this intimate claiming, an emotional prison woven with shared intensity, only to abruptly extinguish it with the cold finality of three, sad little words.
"We are done."
And thus, even after the amount of passing time, all it took was a single sideways glance exchanged between Pansy and Draco during their spirited debate over impending assignments to inspire the catalyst for your abrupt departure. With a forceful clatter, you slammed down your fork and pushed up from the table, commencing a determined march into the unknown.
Their speculative gazes undoubtedly trailed your abrupt exit, but you paid no heed. The entire school was privy to the fact that you and Mattheo were done, seemingly officially this time--terminated by a colossal spat prior to one of his ludicrous nighttime escapades in the forbidden forest. Mattheo's hospitalization, a testament to the recklessness that marked him and his band of fools, left him nursing scratches, cuts, bruises, and a sizable gash on his lower abdomen.
Pansy's calls faded into the periphery as you strode away, your indifference resonating louder than any response could convey. The world around you blurred into inconsequential background noise, drowned out by the burgeoning tangle of spite that commandeered your thoughts. Initially relegated to the forefront, this resentment had now metastasized, occupying every crevice of your headspace.
The recollection of his outburst haunted you, a violent reaction triggered by your attempt to dissuade him from venturing into the forbidden forest. Advising caution, you found yourself confronted with accusations of control and a stifling of his fucking freedom. Hurtful words cascaded from his lips during that argument, culminating before he recklessly endangered himself in the perilous forest. All the moments of vulnerability you shared with him, surrendering yourself without reservation, only to be met with his callousness when you were simply trying to safeguard him.
And as the embers of revenge blazed within, so did the deafening roar for closure. The need to settle the score and the yearning for resolution thrived in the wake of an emotional maelstrom.
‘We are done’ felt insufficient—it couldn't conclude there. You wouldn't fucking allow it.
Approaching the hospital wing doors, a surprising fortitude replaced any expectation of your confidence wilting under the imposing pressure. Strangely, a heightened anger welled within you, as though Mattheo Riddle were the sun, each step forward intensifying the scorching heat enveloping you. With a decisive gesture, you flung the door open, your breath held in suspense as your eyes canvassed the beds. Yet, he remained conspicuously absent, amplifying the frenetic flutter in your heart into an unrestrained whirlwind.
"Miss? May I help you with something?"
You pivoted sharply, eyes ablaze, as if embers sparked from your gaze. "Mr. Riddle. Mattheo. Where is he?"
The nurse swallowed, brows furrowed in confusion, but she cautiously gestured toward the hall, taking a step forward. "We moved him into a private room yesterday. His father requested it. Third door to the left."
Your eyes rolled involuntarily as you turned away, a silent commentary on the absurdity before you. Suppressing the impulse to scoff required a fucking Herculean effort--of course, his father would demand a private room for him. The bloody entitlement was as predictable as Mattheo's suffocating arrogance.
As your determined march neared its end, you found yourself standing before the designated door, caught in a tumult of fear and fury. Fingers trembled, folding in waves in a futile attempt to expel the excess energy coursing through your veins. This ritual had proved futile throughout the previous week, and it yielded no different results now. A frustrated exhale escaped through your nose as you charged through the doorway, propelled by a relentless surge of emotion.
Mattheo Riddle's vulnerability exceeded all expectations as he lay in his opulent private chamber. Shirtless, his body displayed a cruel artwork of black and blue hues, stretching beyond the healing gash on his abdomen. A chaotic tapestry of scratches adorned his shoulders, arms, neck, and the once flawless canvas of his face, now disrupted by a thin, blistering line over the bridge of his nose. A swallow lodged in your throat as you beheld him, a striking portrait of agony that rendered him almost unrecognizable.
"Why the hell are you here?" He stared at you, expression vacant. "Can't you comprehend simple instructions?"
With a cool, unwavering gaze, you shot back, "And miss the chance to witness your glorious downfall? Not a fucking chance, Riddle."
Mattheo clenched his jaw, exhaling sharply as he adjusted against the sheets. "You're insufferable."
You sneered, advancing with measured steps. "Coming from you, that's a compliment."
Advancing, you scrutinized his form, taking in the mosaic of fresh scars that adorned his skin. Arriving at the bedside, your gaze drifted downward, noting that beneath his waist, he was clad only in boxers. A scant, white sheet was the sole guardian of whatever remained of his dignity.
Mattheo's snarl reverberated in the room. "If you're here to extend your fucking pity, please, spare me."
A sharp retort escaped your lips, your eyes dancing with a hint of amusement. "Oh, I'm not offering pity...though you do present quite the pitiable fucking sight, I'll give you that."
"Then what the fuck do you want?" Mattheo's voice carried an edge, his eyes narrowing with impatience. “I told you, we are done.”
A pregnant pause filled the room as you let his question linger, a mental reel replaying the relentless week of torment he had unleashed upon you. Your gaze lingered on his tousled chocolate curls and once-enticing plush lips, forcing yourself to traverse the memories of months marked by a tumultuous dance between pain and pleasure. The realization hit like a sledgehammer--all those moments, the highs and lows, seemed to have led to an abyss of pure fucking nothingness.
A furrow etched your brow as you looked down at him. "It's unbelievable that I let myself get ensnared into feeling something for you."
"Your feelings were your own choice," he quipped, his head falling back with an air of indifference, eyes drifting to the ceiling. "Don't blame me for your poor judgment."
Your frown etched deeper lines on your face, the surge of anger unmistakable. "Regardless, you still manipulated me like a fucking puppet."
"Amusing how complaints disappeared when you were screaming for more every damn night," he retorted, lids fluttering with evident irritation. "Your anger's just a cover for the fact that you'll have to find a new playmate now...have fun chasing those highs, princess, but I promise you'll only end up disappointed."
Your jaw dropped in disbelief, gaze narrowing into a potent mix of anger and hurt. "You're a real fucking prick, you know that?"
Mattheo regarded you with eyes that seemed to hold nothing but emptiness. His silent response coaxed your hands to curl into tight fists, and your chin to tremble with the pressure of boiling blood. You hadn't come here for him to treat you like a mere specter, to act as if you were invisible, as if you were nothing--something you knew you had never been. And still weren't.
"Answer me," you hissed, your voice shaking with a blend of frustration and desperation.
He remained silent, his gaze an unyielding anchor in the stormy sea of your emotions. The void in his pupils became increasingly maddening, an inscrutable abyss that left you grappling with the uncertainty of what the fuck he was even thinking right now.
"Answer me, Riddle." Your demand sliced through the air, a fervent plea for any sign of acknowledgment.
But he remained stubbornly mute.
Your chest surged with frustration, the world momentarily blurring in your escalating anger. "Say something, damn it!"
It was only when the sting of his skin met the back of your hand, and red streaks of blood marked your knuckles, that you realized you had slapped him, reopening the scab on his cheek. Yet, that wasn't the shocking part--though it certainly played a role--what truly stunned you was the quiet, wanton moan that escaped Mattheo's lips, his lids fluttering while his body tensed against the bed. In awe, you gulped.
And then, a peculiar, wicked force stirred within, a voracious entity feeding on the months of torment he had subjected you to. Something that hungered for more.
So, succumbing to its dark allure, you withdrew your hand and unleashed another sharp, resounding slap across his cheek. Blood painted his face, and Mattheo groaned, fingers clutching at the sheets as his hips thrust into the air, his arousal blatantly revealed beneath the fabric. Spellbound, you observed as he collapsed back onto the mattress, his eyes fluttering open, holding a gaze that teetered between vulnerability and desperation.
Between the conflicted expression in his eyes and the pulsating bulge between his legs, the sinister impulse within you deepened, intertwining with a more primal sensation. One unmistakably identified as pure, unbridled lust.
"You fucking like that, don't you?" You breathed, your lips twisting into a sadistic grin.
"Are you trying to hurt me, princess?" Mattheo's intense gaze focused on you, alternating between his increasing arousal and your exasperated expressions. "You'll have to put in more fucking effort than that..."
"Hm." You hummed, grin widening. "If you insist."
You locked on to Mattheo's gaze, feeling empowered by the way his normally stoic expression was now clouded with a burning need. With a coy smile, you swung your knee onto the hospital bed, letting your skirt ride up around your hips and exposing your panties. His brown eyes lingered between your legs, and you could feel the heat of his gaze against your skin as you climbed over him, straddling his strong thighs. He tensed as his eager cock twitched beneath you, silently begging for more.
The power dynamic between you had shifted so drastically in this moment. Mattheo Riddle, famed for his cunning and ruthlessness, was now completely at your fucking mercy. It was an intoxicating feeling, knowing that you had the power to make him feel truly vulnerable.
"So weak," you spat, a wicked grin spreading across your face as you dipped your hips just enough to skim the head of his cock. The sight of his full-body convulsion was mesmerizing, and the shaky breath that left his lips told you everything you needed to know.
You could tell he was still in pain, but there was something else there too--desperation.
"Poor boy," you murmured, running your fingers down the curves of your own figure, taking pleasure in the sensation of your own heat as you slipped your hand between your thighs, caressing yourself. "This is what you want, isn't it?"
Mattheo's eyes fluttered closed, his mouth falling open in a low groan. It was clear he was entranced by the sight of you touching yourself, and the way your words dripped with sinful seduction only added to his lust.
"Yes," he gritted out through clenched teeth, his hips bucking up to meet yours. "This is what I want."
"Look at you...so fucking needy..." you clucked your tongue and chuckled, extending out your free hand and running it along the wounded flesh of his chest, digging in with a little more force than you'd intended, judging by the groan that left his lips and the blood that split through the scab. "You're such a pathetic mess, Matty...it's almost too easy to control you like this..."
"Go to hell." His jaw tightened, a vein throbbing in his temple as he recognized the truth in your words. "You don't control fuck all."
"Oh, is that right?" you snarled, leaning forward and pushing your hands into his stomach, pressing down on his wound with added force, now. His face twisted in pain, and he let out a strained grunt. "How about now?"
Your heart was thundering with adrenaline, and while you had undoubtedly expected him to be furious at you for causing him harm, as he met your gaze, you saw something else entirely. There was a desperate need in his eyes, a yearning for more of the pain and pleasure that only you could provide. His lips were parted, his breaths coming in short gasps as he struggled to contain the sensations coursing through him. Despite the pain, there was a sense of longing that tugged at your heartstrings, filling you with a powerful desire for more of this intoxicating mixture.
"More," he whispered, his voice low and husky with need, barely above a breath. "Do it again."
"Oh, I don't fucking think so..." you sneered, your cunt clenching involuntarily at his request. But you were determined to make this man suffer. To humiliate him just as bad as he'd humiliated you, time and time again. "If you want something, you’ll have to ask for it nicely…I want to hear you beg for me."
Mattheo grunted again, bucking his hips, trying to grind back despite the pain of his injuries. Finding that impossible, his hands went to your waist, gliding up and down your thighs as he attempted to move you faster along his member, craning his head forward to get a better view. You scowled and smacked him away.
"I don't recall extending an invitation for your touch," you asserted, a glacial edge to your voice. "Why would I want your hands on me? After everything you've fucking done?"
His fingers balled into fists, exhaling when his head fell back against the pillow. You could feel him aching below you, already entirely fucking anxious to get inside of you. But then, he was still, hungry eyes trained on yours as he waited for your prompt.
"That's better," you purred, and found the next words coming out before you'd even thought them. "Good boy."
Your hips moved sinuously against his, a deliberate motion that left him breathless, his fists tensing against the desire to seize hold of your flesh. The surge of power was intoxicating, a heady blend with the fervor of your overwhelming desire and simmering rage. More than ever, your yearning for him to suffer consumed you. With a wicked grin, you lifted your hand to your lips, sensually running your tongue along the length of your crimson-stained fingers, sucking off the remnants of his blood. The sharp note of copper lit up your palate, sending a delightful shiver through your being.
"Mmm...you taste so good." You met his gaze between the long licks of your digits, his taste coating your mouth. "Wanna try?"
Mattheo remained silent, his gaze tracing the movement of your tongue as he moistened his lower lip. You enveloped one of your fingers with your lips, emitting a soft hum as you sensually cleaned it, gliding it in and out with deliberate slowness. Finally, you withdrew it with a wet pop, eyes rolling in dramatic effect.
Mattheo's jaw constricted, the sinews in his forearms taut from the tension in his fists. "Please..."
But you, unfazed, dipped your fingers back into the trail of blood leaking from his gash, adorning your skin with a bold red hue before returning them to your mouth.
"Mm, not good enough, I’m afraid..." you murmured, eyes twinkling with sadistic satisfaction. "You'll have to do much better than that, big boy..."
A growl echoed in Mattheo's throat while he gripped your thighs, pushing you down onto his swollen cock. His own hips thrust up against you, seeking any friction, any pressure at all from your heat. Frowning, you slapped his hand--and to your amazement, he pulled back, averting his gaze.
"These hands of yours are growing quite fucking insolent," you observed with a sly smile. "It's high time we addressed their rude misbehaviour."
A sinister grin etched across your lips as you shifted, smoothly extracting your wand from its thigh strap. With a deft flick, you summoned restraints, securing Mattheo's wrists to the metal headboard. His lips parted, eyes smouldering with desire, pulsating beneath you as the tightness closed around his wrists. Once finished, another few flicks ensured the door was locked, and the room was cloaked in a silencing charm.
"Much better," you said, tossing your wand aside. The gleam in your eye was almost maniacal as you reveled in the exquisite agony you were causing him, feeling a sense of power and control that you had never experienced before. "How's that feel, hm? Ready to utter those pleas for me, Riddle?"
"You're going to regret this, little witch..." he spat out through gritted teeth, his gaze locked onto yours. "Nothing you could do to me is worse than the fate that awaits you when I get out of here…your days are fucking numbered."
Involuntarily, you clenched at his threat, a sly smirk playing on your lips as you dipped your fingers back into the pool of blood emanating from his wound--and with a decisive move, you seized his jaw with your free hand, thrusting your bloodied fingers past his teeth before he could voice a protest.
"Now isn't the time for your futile threats, Mattheo," you husked, tilting your head. Your fingers pushed forcefully into his throat, emphasizing your point. "Look how fucking pathetic you are...if only your friends could see you now...big tough guy, bound and gagged by his own bitch…it’s beautiful, really."
Abruptly, you withdrew your fingers, leaning back to assess your handiwork. His wrists were securely bound, a vivid red imprint gracing his skin, while his mouth shimmered with the subtle traces of his own blood. It was a tableau of perfection--humiliating yet exquisitely so. The image of him squirming against the taut restraints, his chest rising and falling with each desperate breath, compelled your hand between your legs. Sliding up your skirt, you explored through the delicate lace of your panties, skimming eagerly over your clit.
"Fuck," you murmured, glimpsing his mouth, “you look perfect like this."
This was retribution, and as you teased yourself while admiring the pathetic sight of him, thoughts buzzed with the torment he'd inflicted--the scalding intensity of his erratic behavior, the icy indifference he wielded, treating you with disdain, unfounded accusations of infidelity, and the frigid distance he maintained. The searing resentment flared as you recollected the havoc he'd wreaked upon your life.
It was months of emotional manipulation. A pattern that was impossible to acclimate to. His cycle of hot and cold, the relentless mistreatment, the baseless accusations, and the moments of aloofness, all preceding his inevitable return, pleading for your affection--this was the culmination of his deeds. More than anything, this was the reckoning he deserved.
"Come on, princess..." he muttered, eyes wide and pleading. "For Godrics sake, please...fucking please..."
A grin creeped across your lips, your heart leaping with excitement. You'd finally fucking broke him.
"There we go, Matty...that wasn't so hard, was it?" You purred, inching backwards along the length of his thighs, reaching out to pull the cover from his waist in an excruciatingly slow fashion, exposing his black briefs. "I love hearing you beg for me...you're being such a good boy..."
Mattheo's response came in the form of an exaggerated huff, and his eyes locked onto yours, silently pleading for your touch to alleviate the burning desire between his legs. Your grin expanded, reveling in the palpable tension.
"You want me to fuck you, Matty? Do you think you fucking deserve that?" You cooed as you caressed his erection through the fabric, glaring at him while he jerked and shook from your touch. It was incredible, watching him trying to thrust into your fist, whimpering, head lolling while you sped your ministrations. "Do you think you fucking deserve me?"
His groan reverberated, his body twitching beneath the firm clasp of your fingers. His lids fluttered, and his head arched back in a nearly imperceptible shake of denial.
"You never fucking deserved me, did you?" Your frustration at his silence echoed in the air as you delivered a sharp crack across his face, prompting a gasp from him. "Fucking answer me, Mattheo!"
"No!" he finally hissed, his knuckles whitening as his entire frame tensed. "Fuck! No! I didn’t…”
"That's right, you didn't…” you laughed, shaking your head. The sinful delight coursing through you at his torment was undeniable. "At least you can finally fucking admit it...a tiny step towards what might pass as progress, I suppose."
As Mattheo huffed, not daring to meet your eyes, you sighed, finally feeling as though some of your anger had dissipated. Not by much, but by enough. Granting him the smallest percentage of mercy, you wrapped your fingers around the waistband of his boxers, freeing his needy, throbbing cock--the length of his smooth heat springing back and slapping against his belly, a low groan leaving the depths of his throat as it did.
You clenched at the sight, the pool of heat in your abdomen expanding throughout your entire body now, your mouth practically watering at the mere vision of him. Just when you thought this whole thing couldn't get anymore perfect. Gods, he was undeniably fucking delicious.
"Tell me what you want, Mattheo..." you said, wrapping your fingers around his cock, slicking the bead of precum around the head, twisting your wrist as you stroked him. "Tell me what you need."
His eyelids pressed together in bliss as he panted, the rhythmic movement of his throat visible with each swallow. In the throes of pleasure, he surrendered himself to the intensity of your touch, the heat enveloping him in a cocoon of sensation.
"You..." was his only reply, head snapping back and forth, thighs tensing, cock twitching. "Please-fuck-"
"You like that?" you purred, biting your lip. "You like when I jerk your cock like this? Hm?"
Mattheo's jaw was slack with desire, his voice laced with breathy need, "yes..."
"Yeah?" You purred, tightening your grip, increasing your pace as you stroked him, leaning down slightly to spit on the tip, slicking your saliva along his shaft. "Who else could make you beg, huh? Who the fuck else can make you this fucking hard?"
"Fuck-" he choked, chest rising and falling in shallow bursts, you could tell he was close. "No one-princess-fucking no one..."
"Mhm...that's fucking right, Riddle..." smiling, you threw your head back, your other hand resuming its motion on your clit, teasing yourself as you continued stroking him. "You know you can't fucking live without this...I don't know why you have to make things so goddamn complicated..."
"Fuck," he hissed, sputtering your name, "please, fuck me, please. I fucking need you."
"Shit...you're just spoiling me now," you mewled, your pussy clenching undoubtedly at his words. "Such a good boy...so eager to please me, hm?"
Mattheo released a long, exasperated sigh as you released him, shifting yourself closer. With a swift motion, you shimmied your panties to the side before you aligned his cock with your dripping core--the moan that escaped your throat was deep and lengthy as you sank onto him, feeling every inch of his hard, aching cock stretching you wide, filling you up with ease. Mattheo's body lifted from the bed in response, a sound somewhere between a sob and a scream escaping his chest as you enveloped him to the hilt. Leaning forward, you placed your palms on his stomach, shifting your weight to the heels of your hands as you began to slide up and down his shaft.
"Fuck," you breathed, lids fluttering. "I missed this cock...shit, you feel so good..."
Mattheo's only response was a string of shameless, guttural moans, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he surrendered to the potent mix of pleasure and pain. His body writhed beneath yours, his abdominals tightening in response to your movements. You panted heavily, bouncing up and down on his cock, taking pleasure in every inch of him slamming deep into your wet, eager pussy.
With each movement, you drove Mattheo wild with desire, listening to his moans grow louder and more intense with each passing moment.
Having control was entirely different--you were able to drag him into you, squeeze him tight with your walls while you slowed your pace, slam down onto him and make him howl. You watched him struggle below you, realizing he was trapped at his peak--and you were happy about it. This. This was close to what he deserved.
"I fucking hate you," you growled, the depth of your emotion evident in every word. "You embedded yourself into every part of my life and now you want to just fucking end things? Just go back to being fucking strangers? Over nothing?" Your voice cracked, the words flowing from your lips without restraint as you continued to ride him, hips moving in an untamed rhythm. "Why do you always fucking do this to me? Fuck-why?..."
Between his deep groans, his shuddering gasps as his wrists fighting their resistance, he managed to shake his head, his noises only growing louder the harder your rode him.
"I...I'm..." the words were forced through barred teeth, his eyes pleading for mercy. "I'm fucking sorry."
"Are you mine, Mattheo?" Your voice was strained with exertion, sweat growing on your forehead. "Were you ever fucking mine? Or was it all just a big game to you?"
"No,” he stammered, almost wincing. "No!"
Unable to resist the intense sensations coursing through you any longer, you brought your fingers back to your clit, setting a frenzied pace as you massaged the stiff nub with the pads of your fingers. You could feel Mattheo pulsing inside you, could feel his overly urgent need to cum, but right now, all that mattered was your own pleasure. As you worked yourself toward climax, your breaths grew ragged, soft moans escaping your lips as your body responded to your own touch. The pressure inside of you was building with each passing moment, urgent and insistent, and you knew that you wouldn't be able to hold off for much longer.
"Say it," you panted, eyes rolling and body trembling as you slammed down on him again and again. "Tell me who you fucking belong to."
"Fuck-fuck..." he grunted, teeth bared, eyes squeezed shut in concentration. "Please, princess...you keep squeezing me like that and I'm going to fucking cum-"
"If you want to cum, you'll fucking say it, Mattheo-" you practically moaned, entire body quivering with excitement. "Fuck-say it..."
A string of whimpers slipped past Mattheo's lips, his fists balled so tight it looked almost painful. "Fuck--you! I'm yours, fuck..."
Every word leaving you was a curse, and between every word was a strangled moan, resonating through your throat as you worked your clit fasting, fucking yourself on his cock harder.
"Gods, Matty, I'm going to cum," you moaned. "I'm going to cum on this thick fucking cock-fuck..."
Without being able to hold off any longer, you shattered, your hips jerking and twitching in an erratic rhythm, free hand digging into the flesh of his chest as you clenched and pulsed around him, forcing another onslaught of pleasured whimpers to leave his throat before he too reached his high--the tight heat of your orgasm sending him over the edge, twitching and thrashing beneath you as you continued riding him through your collective highs, not beginning to slow until the aftershocks began to rumble through you.
And after you stalled, you allowed yourself a moment to regain composure before you wearily eased yourself off him, releasing a prolonged breath--with a cautious movement, you reached over and gathered a sampling of your intertwined cum on the pads of your fingers, briskly bringing them up to his lips.
"Taste what I did to you," you murmured with a smirk, relishing in his groan against your flesh. Methodically, you glided your fingers against his bottom teeth, leisurely pulling them from his mouth. "Tastes good, doesn't it?"
His breaths lingered in the air, an unspoken acknowledgment of his silence, his eyes seemingly unable to leave your form. With deliberate movements, you leaned over, deftly undoing the restraints that bound him. As you meticulously adjusted your appearance back to its usual state, a mask of calm control, your gaze shifted towards the door, a calculated glance.
"May your recovery be swift, Riddle," you uttered with a tone that held a hint of farewell. "Until next time."
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enemies w/ tension. | slytherin boy headcanons
author's note: feralism inside. readers be advised. eighteen plus.
- your enemies reaction to you bending over in front of them.
Draco Malfoy.
Draco Malfoy, as your enemy, was an absolute arsehat.
He’d purposely go out of his way to make your life a living hell whenever he bloody could.
The teasing and pranking was relentless; from accidentally spilling a particular shimmering potion on your white uniform blouse, rendering it perfectly see-through and exposing your bra to everyone in potions class, to pulling out your seat when you weren’t looking; he’d done it all.
He was an absolute menace, but you also knew there was something more to it than that, something possessive, something obsessive.
And you thought this for a multitude of reasons, but the main one being that he admitted he was into you while drunk at a common room party. which of course he denied the next day, and every other day since, choosing instead to be as annoying as ever.
but on this particular late evening, assigned as partners for a class project, you found yourselves alone together; the tension high and the banter relentless.
“Draco, please stop acting like a bloody child for five seconds.”
He’d roll his eyes, fighting a smirk. “Pleading for mercy are you? How adorable.”
You’d huff, staring at him with your arms crossed out of frustration as he held your quill above his head, just out of your reach.
“No, I’m pleading for you to stop being so goddamn insufferable. Give me my quill.” You’d hiss, entirely irritated.
Of course he’d just laugh, wetting his lips as he analyzed your frustration, revelling in the fact he’s so clearly gotten you going.
“Here.” He’d sneer, all before tossing it half-way across the room. “Go fetch.”
by this point, your blood was boiling, but you wouldn’t miss the glint in his eyes, the one that told you he was enjoying this a little more than he should be.
With a frustrated sigh, you pivoted sharply, seizing the perfect opportunity. As you closed in on your quill, a deliberate hair flip cascaded over your shoulder. Slow and sensuous, you bent at the hips, hands trailing down your sides, tracing the subtle sway of your body reaching for the quill. Picking it up achingly slow, on the ascent, you locked eyes with Draco over your shoulder, a sly smirk playing on your lips.
Draco’s typically poised demeanor faltered as he watched, an involuntary pause freezing his features. His steely gaze, usually cloaked in arrogance, softened into a momentary bewilderment.
The realization hit him like a revelation, and before you could even process it, he was up and out of his seat, one hand gripping the back of your head as he loomed over you.
“What the fuck was that?” His voice was torn, shredded. “Quite the fucking tease, huh?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You blinked, grinning. “I simply picked up my quill.”
His grip on the back of your head tightened, his pupils blown wide with lust. All his restraint was gone.
“You’re a fucking filthy little thing “ he leaned in closer, wetting his lips as he glimpsed yours. “Do that again and I’ll fuck you right here, right over this desk.”
Blaise Zabini.
Blaise fucking Zabini. Your enemy? You guessed you could call him that.
Mainly because all the guy ever did was sabotage your bloody love life. Every single damn chance he got.
And not even in a traditional asshole type of way, like by scaring dudes off or threatening their livelihoods--oh, no.
he scared them off by just being himself.
You’d known Blaise since first year, being that the two of you are from the same house and share the same friend group,
but, all the two of you have ever done, since day bloody one, was banter and bicker like a pair of fucking first years.
But as you matured, that friendly banter slowly transitioned into something more, something that neither of you seemed willing to acknowledge.
Something that you knew was about to boil over, at any given moment. and perhaps, that moment was today.
you sighed in frustration, watching as the guy you’d been talking to all night began to make his way through the crowd, finally taking the hint and excusing himself after Blaise had just ever-so-kindly invited himself into your conversation.
“Why do you have to ruin everything?” You took a sip of your drink, glancing at a smirking Zabini through narrowed lids. “Do you not want me to find love? Do you truly hate me that much?”
“I did you a favour, trust me,” he’d quip, flashing those perfect pearly teeth at you. “Dude would have bored you death.”
“The great Zabini, doing me a favour?” Your eyes widened, and you’d stifle an amused scoff. “Sure you’re feeling okay?”
As Blaise was poised to respond, you fumbled with your wand, inadvertently dropping it onto the wooden floor of the common room. Acting on instinct, you bent down to retrieve it, sensing Blaise's eyes lingering on your backside for an unnecessarily long moment as you slowly straightened up.
And when you finally looked over, you watched as he brought a hand up to his mouth, attempting to hide his grin as he shot you a knowing, wide-eyed glance, his body tensed as though he was fighting to restrain himself.
but after only a few seconds, he’d step closer, his hand grazing your arm as he leaned in.
“Excuse me miss, but I think you’ve made me drop something,” he’d pause, watching your eyes as you met his.
“I’m sorry?” You snorted. “what are you-“
he’d pull you closer, bringing his mouth toward your ear. “you made me drop my fucking jaw…”
you’d blink, caught off guard. “Blaise-“
“That ass is fucking perfect,” he murmured, wetting his lips. “cant hide it anymore, princess…i want you bad.”
Lorenzo Berkshire.
“Enzo-earth to bloody Enzo,” you emitted an audible groan, sinking back down into the chair beside him.. “can you please at least fucking attempt to help me?”
Enzo was uninterested in your pleas, truthfully, he was uninterested in anything you had to say. Paying no heed, he sat slouched, head nestled in his arms on the desk, seemingly oblivious to your presence.
you sighed. this was going to be a long damn class.
“Enzo, please? you can sleep after class-“
He grumbled softly under his breath, neglecting to raise his head from the desk. However, he pivoted it towards you, his bleary brown eyes meeting yours.
“can you knock it off?” his voice was a shredded rasp. it was clear he was exhausted. “don’t you ever get tired of hearing your own voice?”
You scoffed, irritation evident on your face. This was the typical Enzo conversational experience--a constant exchange of snark and jabs. It baffled you how a man so fucking attractive could also be so damn daft at times.
“i don’t, actually,” you huffed, trying to keep your composure. “but i certainly get tired of your ignorant attitude.”
that managed to get at least a chuckle out of him, even if it was a half-assed one.
“spicy today, i see.” his lids fluttered back closed as he muttered, “bite me, darling.”
“you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” you teased, your voice taking on an arrogant tone. “masochist.”
Enzo emitted a snort, a hearty chuckle escaping from his chest in response to your suggestive jab. Progress was evident, and you sensed the need to elevate things to the next level if you intended to secure his assistance.
Making sure his eyes remained closed, you slyly nudged your quill, sending it tumbling off the table and onto the floor. A mischievous smirk played on your lips as it hit the ground, and Enzo's eyes snapped open, fixing on you.
Maintaining the intense eye contact, you slowly leaned over in the chair, letting the seductive sway of your movements accompany your reach for the fallen quill.
you could feel Enzo's gaze following your every movement as you retrieved the quill with a lingering touch--all while a subtle, suggestive smile danced on your lips.
the second you straightened out, Enzo sat up straight, clearing his throat, tongue darting out to moisten his lips as he fought to collect himself.
“what’s the matter, Enz?” you quipped, unable to control yourself. “thought you were tired?”
“don’t play with me, angel.” he muttered, leaning closer. “please, Merlin, don’t fucking play with me.”
you’d snicker. “help me with this assignment and i’ll let you touch it.”
“deal.”
Mattheo Riddle.
you and Mattheo were enemies for one reason, and one reason only--his suffocating arrogance.
perhaps you were the only girl in the school who called him out on his bullshit, perhaps you were the only girl in the school who didn’t fall flat at his feet anytime he simply breathed.
and Mattheo, well, he wasn’t used to this type of treatment. and he certainly wasn’t keen on the fact he couldn’t get you in his bed with a mere second long glance.
of course, you were fully conscious of the fact he was hot as fuck, but your self-respect and dignity outweighed your sexual desires, which in turn, created fiery spats every-time the two of you were near each other.
And so, here you were, paired with him for a research assignment; the two of you alone in the library on a Sunday night, while he was totally hungover. And as insufferable as ever.
“Mattheo, give my fucking textbook back.”
He’d groan, rolling his eyes as he tucked the book under his arm, hugging it to his chest while seated sluggishly.
“Come and get it back, then.” He’d utter, smirking. “I promise I don’t bite…hard.”
You fought back a scoff. “You won’t be able to bite at all if you don’t cut it the fuck out…it’s almost ten o’clock we need to start this.”
Mattheo rolled his eyes, again, his tongue piercing the inside of his cheek as he pulled the book out from under his arm, and stood up, moving over to the bookshelf behind your chair.
With suffocating snark, he knelt down, shoving the book onto one of the shelves lowest to the ground, all before turning back around and smirking at you, crossing his arms over his chest and shrugging casually as he cocked an eyebrow.
“You told me to give it back.” The arrogance in his tone was nauseating. “You didn’t specify where.”
“First of all, that’s the wrong shelf,” you’d mutter, watching his eyes follow you as you pushed up from the chair, veering closer. “And second of all, you’re not funny.”
Mattheo poised for a sharp retort, ready to counter with his usual biting wit. However, his words stumbled into silence as he observed you drawing near.
With a swift, almost calculated movement, you bent at the hips to retrieve your book beside him. The fabric of your skirt dared to venture higher up your thighs than convention allowed, leaving Mattheo momentarily entranced and rendering his intended response obsolete.
But the second you straightened out, meeting his eyes, lips teasing a knowing smirk, he was on you.
Your back slammed against the shelf as he grappled your hips, shoving you back. he towered over you, his lips pressed directly against your ear as he growled;
“You shouldn’t be bending over like that in front of me,” his voice was torn, shredded, and he finished the sentence off with a sharp “ever.”
your heart was hammering. “Why not, Matty? Didn’t enjoy the show?”
“You have no idea what that ass of yours does to me,” he groaned, his grip on your hips tightening. “Every fucking day I imagine railing it--I imagine fucking the attitude right out of you…you should know better than to tempt me.”
Theodore Nott.
“Look at that,” Theodore quipped, his snarky grin practically evident in his tone of voice. “top of the class again. how does that L feel, huh?”
you grumbled, rolling your eyes so far into the back of your skull that you were seeing white.
“don’t get cocky, Nott.” you nearly snarled, the frustration seeping from your lips like breath. “it’s not a good look on you,”
theodore merely chuckled, knowing that was a complete fucking lie.
cockiness was an infuriatingly good look on him, and that was solely due to the fact that the objects of his arrogance were damn impressive achievements that could make anyone green with envy.
the man was unfathomably smart for an arrogant jock whose life was dedicated to being the best quidditch player to ever exist.
clucking his tongue, he’d shoot you a knowing glance. “you sound jealous, bella. what’s your grade?”
as he tried to lean over to glimpse your mark, you pulled your paper away from him, scowling. “how about mind your own business, hm?”
he’d chuckle. “never been known for that, have i?”
Before you could formulate a response, Theodore snatched the paper from your hands, leaning away to sneak a glance at your mark. Your groan of irritation resonated, signaling your exasperation with his antics.
Annoyed, you reached over to grab your paper back, your low-cut blouse exposing more of your chest than you’d intended.
As soon as Theodore’s eyes fixed on your chest, noting your breasts practically spilling out of your shirt, he paused; his fingers involuntarily releasing the paper without further fight, his lips parting and eyes darkening.
“merlin,” he’d breathe, his voice torn. “you trying to give a lad a fucking heart attack, wearing a shirt like that?”
your cheeks grew warm, his eyes not once breaking from your chest as you straightened back out in your chair, adjusting yourself.
“it’s rude to stare, Nott.” you’d say, fighting a grin. “didn’t your mommy ever teach you that?”
Theodore let out a low groan, edging his body closer to yours. His lips dangerously neared your ear, and he couldn't resist sneakily glancing down your shirt, unable to control his wandering gaze.
“it’s rude to tease, Bella,” he’d purr, his voice a dark murmur. “and truth be told, i can’t quite help myself…”
you huffed, unable to stifle your smirk. “sounds like you need a refresher in manners.”
“Oh, principessa,” he’d retort, his voice laced with need. “you can refresh me in anything you want as long as i can see more of those perfect tits of yours.”
Tom Riddle.
Tom Riddle was an absolute brilliant genius;
a good man. a private, by-the book type of student.
and if you were being completely honest with yourself, this was precisely why the two of you didn’t quite get along.
it seemed as though Tom had it out for you, as though he had some sort of personal vendetta to make your life a living hell.
At every opportunity, he wielded his prefect powers to land you in trouble for something. Perhaps, in all fairness, you should have known better than to sneak into the restricted section of the library or prowl around the castle late at night,
but, gods. couldn’t he just cut you some bloody slack for once?
Admittedly, you were afraid to cross Tom. You weren't eager to be on his bad side, but at the same time, you weren't prepared to entirely abandon breaking the rules and having fun just because you were aware he could catch you.
so instead, you learned his schedule, where he’d be and at what times, knowing how to effectively avoid him.
the man was a cunning genius, you knew he could effectively destroy you if he so pleased.
but, on this particular night, he was set to be patrolling the dungeons for at least another two hours, giving you plenty of time to sneak into the library and do a little research.
and everything was going extremely well, hidden in the restricted section, blanketed by the nights encompassing darkness, when you noticed your shoelace was untied.
Bending down to address the matter, a peculiar sensation tingled through your senses as you completed the task. A subtle shift in the atmosphere hinted at an approaching presence, and just as you straightened up, the hushed cadence of footsteps drew closer.
Before you could pivot to face the intruder, their looming silhouette materialized behind you.
A towering figure, their breath, warm and palpable, brushed over your ear as they leaned in, setting your nerves on edge.
“you shouldn’t be bending over like that in public,” the voice was a deep, dark rasp in your ear, the arrogance in the tone unmistakable. “some people might think you’re a little slut.”
heat rushed you, your thighs clenched. “and what if i want some people to think that?”
immediately understanding your suggestive remark, Tom wasted no time before grappling your hips and spinning you around to face him, one hand slithering around your lower back and grasping a palmful of your ass.
“filthy whore,” he’d growl, his voice shredded now, barely restrained. “breaking the rules and showing off that perfect ass for anyone to see…calls for punishment i’d say.”
his teeth found your neck and you whimpered, clutching onto him. “i’m-“
Tom pulled back, meeting your eyes. “bend over the desk, now.”
#sorry #i got extremely carried away #18+ au.
#harry potter#draco malfoy smut#tom riddle smut#tom riddle#tomriddle smut#theodorenottsmut#theoriddlesmut#theodore smut#mattheosmut#mattheoriddle#mattheo smut#mattheo riddle smut#mattheo riddle#theodore nott smut#theodorenott#theodore nott x reader#theodore nott#theo nott x reader#theo nott smut#draco smut#dracomalfoy#blaisezabini#enzo berkshire x you#lorenzo berkshire smut#lorenzo berkshire#enzo berkshire#tomriddlesmut#tom riddle x reader#tomriddle x reader#draco malfoy
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Tom Riddle.| i don’t share
PAIRING: Tom Riddle x Reader
SUMMARY: after you and tom have a heated exchange in class, he tells you he’ll stop by your dorm later that night to help you with questions you had, something he’s done many times before. but when he catches you in the midst of an intimate moment, the restraint he’d been maintaining for all those years finally shatters.
WORD COUNT: 6k.
TAGS: 18+, SMUT, Dom!Tom, Sadism, Possessive Behaviour, Toxic Behaviour, Rough Sex, Masturbation, Size Kink (?), Praise Kink, Slight Degredation, Humiliation, Spanking, Sexual Punishment, Edging, Teasing, Denied Orgasm, PIV, Dirty Talk.
BASED OFF THIS REQUEST.
"Tom, please, please," your voice carried a desperate plea, a subtle whine underscoring the urgency not just for yourself, but for the salvation of your faltering grades. "Just a few questions--I'm on the edge of begging here."
Tom's gaze burned into yours with an arrogant glint, a smirk playing on his lips. "Begging is rather unbecoming of you...are you sure you're feeling okay?"
Drenched in his trademark condescension, his words flowed with the expected arrogance he normally exuded. Battling the impulse to roll your eyes, you opted to play along and humor him instead, in hopes he'd help you out.
"Truth be told, the stress is getting to me," you countered, matching his arrogant gaze with a wry smile. "I think I've got a fever--can you check?"
"Using illness as a ploy for attention, now that's more like you." Tom's smirk widened, and his gaze took on a knowing gleam, his tone dripping with a hint of sadistic amusement. "But fine--if you insist on dragging me into your theatrics, I'll play along. Come here."
Your stomach leapt with an unexpected surge of excitement, a feeling you had now become quite familiar with in your interactions with Tom. For the longest time, you had found him undeniably attractive, his reserved demeanour only adding to the allure. But, despite your playful attempts at flirting, he continually remained stoic, almost always meeting your advances with dead-ended remarks. Teasing and joking with him had become a sort of game, but the infuriating part was that he never seemed willing to take it any further.
As you rounded the creaky wooden desk in the potions classroom that was now emptied of its usual occupants, the electric air around you buzzed with anticipation. It was a familiar dance between you two--flirting that skirted the edges of something more, a constant push and pull that kept the dynamic invigorating.
As you positioned yourself beside him, casually leaning against the desk with a deliberate flair for dramatic effect, Tom huffed in response. The struggle to contain an amused smirk played across his plush lips while his dark eyes scanned your face with a stoic precision, emotions meticulously guarded as always.
Then, something shifted.
Tom's demeanour flipped subtly, a seriousness settling into his expression as he closed the distance. One of his large hands cupped the back of your head, holding you steady, while the back of his other gently pressed against your forehead. The room appeared to shrink, your pulse quickening in response to the newfound intimate touch. Your gaze remained locked onto his, neither of you daring to blink.
"Hm," Tom's dark eyes flickered momentarily toward your lips, a subtle intensity in his gaze. His voice, laden with husky undertones, caressed the air as he remarked, "you do seem to be a little hot."
"Only a little?" you whispered, your voice a sultry purr, the words teasingly leaving your lips as you tried to mentally steady yourself. "Think you need to check again...perhaps, internally, this time?"
Noticing Tom's jaw tense slightly, his eyes darkening, you felt his grip on the back of your head tighten. He dropped his hand from your forehead and tugged you closer, your heart jumping up into your throat as the heat of his tall frame enveloped you.
"You've got quite the mouth on you," he observed, a smirk playing on his lips. "If I'm certain of anything, it's that no fever could ever match the heat of your audacity."
You swallowed the lump of arousal in your throat, silently working to calm your heart rate as he brought his free hand back up, his pointer finger tracing a tantalizing path over your bottom lip with deliberate intent.
"Don't be shy now," his murmur, soft and commanding, cut through the tension, "Open up for me."
As if under a spell, you complied with his command, a shudder of desire rolling up your spine. As his finger glided past your parted lips, exerting gentle pressure on your tongue, his intense gaze remained fixed on your mouth. Gradually, you sealed your lips around his digit, releasing a controlled exhale as a surge of adrenaline enveloped you. Your eyelids fluttered in surrender, losing touch with sanity in the heat of the moment while his grip on your hair tightened to a degree that almost felt like he intended to shatter your skull in his hand.
Trapped in his hold, you slowly reopened your eyes, meeting his dark, intoxicating gaze. With intentional pressure, you suctioned your mouth around his finger, releasing a subtle groan that seemed to echo in the charged air. Tom's heartbeat felt almost audible as he slowly began to withdraw, his eyes never once leaving your lips.
Until, he abruptly halted, hooking his finger against the inside of your cheek, tugging you closer. Your hands shot up, palms pressing onto the strength of his chest as you stumbled toward him, blinking in stunned surprise.
"The desperation emanating from you is truly appalling," he murmured, his dark eyes flicking between yours and your lips before returning to meet your gaze, his face possessing a sadistic smirk unable to be hidden. "Do you possess no self-control, hm? Is proper behaviour a concept foreign to you?"
A defiant glint sparked in your eyes as you regained your composure, subtly licking your lips when he finally withdrew his finger from your mouth, a trail of saliva following along with it.
"Seriously? Nothing?" You nearly groaned, his unyielding grip on the back of your head keeping you locked in place. Your faces hovered dangerously close, the charged proximity making the air crackle with anticipation. "No reaction from you at all?"
"You'll have to do better than that," he remarked, the tone oozing arrogance. "Believe me, I possess more restraint than you can fathom."
"Oh, come on, Tommy," you teased, infusing the nickname with a sensual cadence. A sultry purr escaped your lips, a smirk teasing them as you lifted a hand, running two fingers along his jawline. "Why don't you let loose a bit? I can show you better."
His demeanour shifted again, and within an instant his hand darted up, seizing your wrist and pulling it away from his face. Simultaneously, the hold on the back of your head morphed its grip onto your jaw, a flicker of darkness dancing in his eyes.
With a commanding force, he pushed your ass back against the desk, his words a dark demand. "Don't call me that."
"Oh, word?" you responded, a playful edge in your tone, purposefully reaching to provoke a reaction from him. You'd been friends with Tom for years now, you knew he was used to this shit from you. "Did I strike a nerve?"
In a swift motion, Tom knocked your legs apart with his knee, forcing himself between your thighs as you sat atop the desk, his grip tightening around your wrist while simultaneously intensifying on your jaw. His long fingers squeezed your cheeks together, a combination of restraint and control that amplified the charged atmosphere.
"You're such a fucking brat," he muttered, the words laced with a hint of disdain. His grip remained unyielding, the pressure on your jaw and wrist asserting dominance. "I don't put up with brats."
Barely able to squeeze the words out through his firm grip on your face, you breathed, "Okay, Thomas."
"You think you're funny, huh?" His anger surged, a flicker of irritation flashing in his eyes. "I know you're just trying to piss me off," he retorted, the words edged with a stern warning. "But I can promise you, the last thing you want to do is piss me off. I will fucking ruin you."
As you stared at him, your entire body pulsing from head to toe, you found yourself lost in the heat of his power, brain fogged by his intensity. Gods, you wanted this man more than you wanted to fucking breathe--at this point you'd let him fuck you in the middle of the corridor if it meant he'd finally get inside you.
"Look at all that unchecked aggression," you muttered, your gaze locked with his. His eyes narrowed in response, and he released some of the grip on your face. "Seems like you need an outlet, hm?"
His hand slithered with a serpent's grace; resuming its place on the back of your head, his long fingers threading through the strands of your hair like a possessive caress. With a deliberate intensity, he brought his lips to your ear, his warm breath sending a shiver down your spine. His voice; a deep, dark growl, resonated with a raw power as he whispered,
"I may be a man of restraint, but you're dangerously close to shattering it," he paused, briefly, noting your lungs hitching, your breath turning shallow. "And you should know, once it's shattered, there's no fucking fixing it."
Your entire body ignited into flame, the heat of his presence, his power, enveloping you. Gathering yourself, you whispered, "Is that supposed to scare me?"
Tom's response was a low, throaty chuckle that reverberated with a mixture of amusement and something darker.
"Perhaps it should," he murmured, the words lingering in the charged air like a subtle warning as he pulled back, examining your face. "You wouldn't be able to handle anything I'd give you."
"And what proof do you have to back up that claim, huh?" A sly grin curved your lips as you met his challenging gaze, your entire body quivering under the heat of his eyes. "Pretty big accusation to make."
"Oh, little witch...look at you," he remarked, each word dripping with dark arrogance. His breath, a calculated whisper against your skin, made you shudder, while the intensity in his grip conveyed a promise of untamed desire. "My breath alone just made you quiver...could you imagine what my fucking tongue would do."
A whimper caught in your throat as his words wrapped around you like a bewitching spell. At a loss for words, you met his gaze with a mixture of faltering defiance and sweltering desire, lips parted and heart hammering like a caged animal--the intensity of the moment leaving you momentarily speechless as the heat of his body seperating your legs drew nearly insufferable.
"Nothing to say now, hm?" His dark eyes drilled into yours, taking note of your speechlessness. A cruel smirk played on his lips as he pressed further, reveling in the control he knew he finally had over you. "Cat got your tongue, perhaps?"
"Hardly," a wicked smile curled on your lips as you finally found your voice. "Just taking a moment to savour the reaction I managed to draw from you."
"Be careful, little witch," Tom's voice dipped into a sinister cadence as he leaned in closer, eyes gleaming with dark amusement. "Poking the dragon might awaken a beast you're not prepared for."
Your cunt clenched. Now this was entirely painful. You squirmed in his grip, his nails digging into your wrist. "Fucking hell, Tom..."
"Let me make something crystal clear," Tom's voice dripped with a dark, seductive edge as he leaned in even closer, his hand leaving your head and slithering down to grasp your hip, his eyes ablaze with intensity. "I know you enjoy playing these little games, pushing me--but keep it up, see what happens. I'll take you right here, right over this fucking desk. I'll fuck you so hard that the entire school will hear you screaming my name."
Tom's words reverberated through the charged atmosphere, leaving you nearly panting with need. Your mind struggled to comprehend the gravity of his promises, each syllable acting like a potent spell that intoxicated your conscious. Thoughts scattered like leaves in the wind, and you found yourself unable to string together a coherent response, only able to simply stare at him.
"And you should be aware that once I fuck you, once I've claimed you as mine...there's no turning back. You'll be mine and mine alone." His eyes darkened, an unmistakable possessiveness seeping into his tone as his teeth nipped your earlobe. "I don't fucking share."
A visceral shudder rippled through your entire being, your eyelids instinctively fluttering as Tom's possessive declaration echoed in the room. After months of navigating the labyrinth of suggestive encounters and endless flirtation, this moment felt like a fucking breakthrough. It fueled a determination within you, a resolve to seize this opportunity and extract every conceivable nuance you could from it.
"Fuck-take a hint, Riddle..." your voice, barely a whisper, escaped as you confessed, "I want to be yours."
As Tom pulled back, a gravity more profound than you'd ever witnessed before emanated from his eyes. Reclaiming your jaw, he tugged you closer, scrutinizing your face with a newfound seriousness. His gaze roved across your features, an intensity that demanded truth, leaving no room for evasion or the veil of humor.
Then, he spoke--his voice a low, rough demand. "Say it again."
All the oxygen depleted from the room as Tom's intense gaze drilled into you. In a barely audible whisper, you repeated, "I want to be yours."
A sadistic grin crawled across his lips as he took in your words, his breath washing warm over your face as he paused, seemingly considering each syllable, his brain working vigorously behind his eyes. Then, without another word, Tom released his grip on you entirely, taking a deliberate step back. His gaze shifted toward his bag and then checked the time, as though he just remembered where he was and where he was supposed to be.
Finally, he looked back at you and calmly stated, "I'll meet you in your dorm tonight, and we can go over those questions you had."
As he turned, making a swift exit, the room seemed to exhale with his departure, the silence amplifying the residue of his presence. You stood there, a mixture of bewilderment and exhilaration, caught in the aftermath of his intense gaze. Time suspended briefly until you forcibly snapped yourself out of the trance.
"Thanks for giving me a time," you grumbled to yourself, reaching for your bag. "Jackass."
Stepping out of the deserted potions room, shadows lingered in the wake of Tom's lead, the rest of the day unfolding in a whirlwind. Your mind echoed with reflections on recent events, a potent blend of anticipation and nervous energy heightening your senses. Though Tom had been a familiar presence in your dorm, stopping by many times over the years to help with academic matters, tonight resonated with an unspoken shift.
As the evening descended, you returned to your dorm to finally settle in for the night. Emerging from the shower, clad in the comfort of your black, silky nightgown, your mind gravitated towards Tom. His cold, authoritative aura, the intense gaze from those dark eyes, and the sensations stirred by his every touch played on a loop in your thoughts.
By this point, the clock had ticked well past dinner, and as you considered the impending commencement of his prefect duties, a lingering doubt crept in--a familiar question of whether he might have, in his typical fashion, overlooked your presence for the night.
Exhaling a frustrated sigh, you sank onto your bed, envisioning the myriad ways you'd unleash your anger on him tomorrow for leaving you stranded like this.
Yet, as your mind played out the scenario--his stoic features, emotionless gaze, and unwavering intensity absorbing your verbal barrage, a scenario that he's very much accustomed to--an undeniable warmth welled up within your core. It was an ache, a deep desire for that very man, one you couldn't brush aside any longer.
Lost in thought, your hands embarked on an exploratory odyssey across your body, channeling the essence of Tom's touch in your fervid imagination. His dark eyes, in your mind's portrayal, delved into every contour with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. Imagined sensations heightened as you envisioned his firm fingers leaving an indelible impression on your skin, his deep voice rolling through your ears like thunder as he touched you.
Eyes tightly shut, your chest rose and fell with the cadence of heightened emotions. Your hand, now boldly tracing the insatiable heat between your thighs, delicately danced over your most intimate desires, fingers swirling over your clit, your soft gasps filling the silence in your dorm. Each caress ignited bursts of ecstasy, an all-consuming longing that whispered the name of the infuriating man whose touch alone could quell the fervour within you, but who instead continues to brush you aside.
Engulfed in the sanctuary of your private musings, the muffled world outside went forgotten, your haze of pleasure shielding you from acknowledging the discreet knock on your door. However, when Tom's voice, crystal clear, penetrated the silent sanctuary just seconds before your door swung open, you were immediately pulled back down to reality. In an instant, you sprang from your bed, your face a canvas painted with an intense shame that seemed to scream from your very forehead.
Your heart raced in your throat as he immediately halted, locking eyes with you. A pregnant pause hung in the air, his lips parting as the realization dawned, and you both grappled with the awkward aftermath of what he had inadvertently stumbled upon. Your eyes dropped to the floor, your face now a shade rivaling a ripe tomato.
In a voice tinged with embarrassment, you grumbled, "can you please shut the door?"
After a few seconds that felt like forever, the soft click of the door closing resonated through the room, and in the ensuing silence, Tom took a solitary step closer. Your eyes remained fixated on the floor, burning holes into the aged wood as you awkwardly adjusted your silk black nightgown against your thighs.
Tom's voice carried an arrogant purr, the huskiness in his tone as unmistakable as daylight. "Did you finish?"
Utterly mortified, a scowl crept across your face as you raised your gaze to meet his. His jaw tightened visibly, reaching a level of strain that seemed almost painful. The pupils of his eyes widened, revealing an emotion you had never witnessed before. Eager to divert from the awkwardness, you took a quick retreat toward your desk, flipping open your textbook in a desperate attempt to change the subject.
As you immersed yourself in the pages, you felt Tom's presence materialize behind you. His tall frame loomed large over yours, his intoxicating energy radiating like fire.
A shiver ran down your spine as he brought his lips dangerously close to your ear and murmured, "look at me."
A languid tension filled the air as your breath hitched, the room seeming to pulse with an intoxicating energy. Painfully slow, you reluctantly lifted your head, your gaze fixated on the wall in an attempt to escape the intensity of Tom's presence. Impatience emanated from him like a palpable force and with a swift movement, his large hand enveloped your chin, guiding your head to the side, forcing your eyes to meet his.
"I asked you a question," Tom's voice, edged with authority, cut through the charged silence. "Answer it."
A soft gasp escaped your throat as he pressed against you, tightening his grip on your face, his crotch forcing your hips to meet the edge of the desk, your palms finding purchase against the aged wood in an attempt to steady yourself.
"No," you barely whispered, a tremulous breath lingering in the charged air. "I didn't."
"How unfortunate..." his plush lips teased a smirk as he chuckled, dark and arrogant, slightly shaking his head in feign disappointment, clucking his tongue. "Can't even fucking pleasure yourself properly, hm? You need my help with that too?"
His intense gaze dipped over your lips, a predatory glint in his eyes. The grip on your face tightened, radiating warmth that coursed through your entire body, all of the oxygen dissipating from the room.
"Dare you to try," you tossed back, a defiant glint in your eyes, finding your voice from Merlin knows where, your entire body shaking. "We both know you're too sca-"
Mid-sentence, Tom swiftly interrupted you. His hand, once cupping your chin, shifted with assertive precision, shoving two fingers into your mouth. Your head was pulled back against his shoulder, lips pressed to your ear, creating an intimate proximity that did unspeakable things to your already soaked cunt.
In the closeness, he asserted, "you want me to help you cum." It wasn't just a question or a statement; it hung in the air as a demanding command. "Say it."
A shudder skirted up your spine at his words, every fiber of your being reacting to the unmistakable pressure of his growing erection pressing against your ass.
With an eager nod, you managed to utter the words around the intrusion of his fingers, "I want you to help me."
He huffed, amused. "Help you with what?"
"Cum." You nearly whined. "Help me fucking cum."
Tom's fingers delved deeper, triggering a reflexive gag, your eyes welling with tears at his further intrusion. Simultaneously, his free hand navigated down the contours of your lower back, gracefully sliding along the delicate silk fabric of your nightgown.
"This mouth," he hissed, the strain evident in his voice, as if his restraint teetered on the edge; jolting your head in his grip. "...it's a fucking problem. I want to do unspeakable things to this filthy little mouth."
As your cunt clenched at this words, a deep groan rumbled within you, eyelids fluttering shut as you battled the urge to gag once more, Tom's fingers pressing down on your tongue with additional pressure. His other hand slipped lower, sliding under the fabric of your gown, tracing the contours of your backside with a possessive caress.
"But that will have to wait," Tom asserted, his fingers withdrawing from your mouth, trailing a gentle path across your cheek as his lips brushed your ear. "You require my assistance--and what kind of man would I be if I didn't follow through, hm?"
His firm grip claimed a palmful of your ass, molding and caressing the flesh, coaxing a whimper from your lips.
"Not a very--" you started, but he swiftly cut you off.
"Shut up," he commanded, the power in his voice brooking no disobedience. "That wasn’t an invitation for snark."
You huffed, working hard to stifle your smirk. With a subtle yet commanding touch, his hand glided back up your spine, urging you to bend over more deeply. Simultaneously, his foot skillfully maneuvered between yours, coaxing a widening of your legs.
"Keep your hands on the desk," he instructed, his tone flat. "If you move them, I stop."
Standing before the desk, clammy palms pressed against the smooth surface, anticipation coursed through you like an electric current. Your lids fluttered as Tom's hand descended once again to your ass, lifting your nightgown to fully expose your backside to his hungry eyes. His substantial hand wasted no time, caressing every inch of exposed skin with a fervour that carried an almost reverential touch, silently acknowledging the vulnerability of what you were willingly offering him.
And then, his other hand found your front, slithering down your stomach and stopping above the mound of your pussy, his breath washing warm over your ear as he studied you, watching every ministration of your face as he inched closer.
"Tell me," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "What were you thinking about when you were touching yourself?"
Your heart leapt, but you swallowed the lump of anxiety in your throat, about to respond to his question when the pad of his finger connected with your slit, slicking itself in your wetness, slowly dragging over your clit and causing your entire body to jolt in response, a moan of relief flowing past your teeth.
"Mm," he exhaled, his lungs unsteady. "Look how fucking wet you are."
You mewled at his words, his finger rolling over your clit in slow, sensual circles--but just as you were melting for him, his other hand came down hard on your ass, causing you to cry out in surprise and pain, your cheek stinging in the wake of his strength.
"I expect an answer," he growled, his voice low and menacing, the smirk almost audible in his voice. "You want to cum, don't you?"
You whimpered, fighting through the pleasured sting, head swimming in the onslaught of his fingers. "Yes, I do."
"Then answer the fucking question," he growled, his voice a deep rasp in your ear. "Pretty little brat...I'm not like those other guys you've fucked--I will break you...I will have you fucking begging for me, understand?"
“Yes,” you whimpered, overwhelmed by pure, unbearable lust, your throat dryer than the desert. “I understand.”
“Good girl.” Despite the praise, his free hand connected with your ass cheek once more, staining the skin red and eliciting a sharp squeal from your lungs. “Apologize.”
"I-I'm-" you gasped, your lids squeezed shut, nails digging into the wood of the desk as his relentless assault on your clit intensified. "I'm sorry-"
"Yeah? Are you?" He sneered, the sadistic arrogance in his tone almost suffocating. Amusement radiated from him like palpable waves. "I'm not quite convinced. You still haven't answered the fucking question."
Your heart thumped, his hand ghosting over your stinging flesh, the fear of another harsh smack prompting a quick response.
"You," you confessed, your voice a plea, a whine. "I was thinking of you."
He hummed in satisfaction, rewarding you with another sharp smack despite your confession, causing you to jolt forward toward the desk. His other hand skillfully guided you back into place, his fingers slowing their pace on your clit as he clucked his tongue in a disappointed cadence.
"I'm not impressed," he said, his hand caressing the spot where he had just spanked you. "You can do better than that. Tell me exactly what you were imagining."
You took a deep breath, trying to focus on the sensations he was causing rather than the embarrassing confession he was forcing from you, forcing your brain to string together a coherent sentence despite the utter onslaught of sensations coursing through you.
"I-I was imagining you touching me," you muttered, almost inaudibly, a deep groan slipping past your teeth as he slicked his finger along your slit, collecting your juices, teasing your core before returning back up to your clit. "I-ah-I was..thinking about..your hands..on my body..."
"Mm," Tom hummed in approval, squeezing your stinging asscheek, massaging the forming welts. "And what else?"
Your head spun, veins filled with fire as your climax loomed just on the brink. Your entire body trembled with anticipation, and attuned to your heightened state, Tom skillfully intensified his efforts. Two synchronized spanks on your ass, delivered with precision, propelled you even closer to the precipice of ecstasy, each sensation pushing you to the very edge of release.
Your lungs fought to find breath, your heart hammering. You were right there. "Tom-fuck-oh my Go-"
"Not yet," he cooed, his tone as soft as a feather, a feigned sincerity that bordered on sickening. As his fingers leisurely decelerated, he punctuated the change with another spank. Frustration welled up, and you whined, your head falling back. "You haven't even come close to earning an orgasm yet."
"Tom! Please!" you squealed, attempting to grind your hips against his hand, but it only prompted him to move slower. "Please."
"No." He said, flatly, the deliberate decrease in pace accompanied by two more resounding spanks against your already swollen asscheek, and you groaned, fighting hard to collect yourself. "You know what I want to hear, little witch."
"Gods-fuck-" you gasped, entire body vibrating as you worked to gather your thoughts. "I was thinking about you touching me, just like this! Fingering me, making me cum--fucking me."
As the last words escaped your lips, a primal growl rumbled from deep within Tom's chest. The pace of his fingers resumed with an intensified fervour, eliciting a cascade of gasps, squeals, and moans--far louder than you had intended. In response, he delivered another resounding spank, your orgasm swiftly approaching, charging towards you with the unstoppable force of a raging bull.
"Such a desperate little slut for me, aren't you?" He husked, his voice torn, shredded. "You want me, huh? You want to cum on my fucking cock?"
You nodded, gasping. "Yes! Fuck-please!"
"Fuck-" he growled, ripping his fingers from your cunt just as you were about to fall over the edge, just as you were about to shatter beneath his touch. "Perhaps you will."
A frustrated groan escaped you as the realization hit--three fucking orgasms thwarted in under twenty minutes. Your entire body vibrated with the lingering need for release, your cunt throbbing with the ache for something to sate it. However, all grievances dissolved into oblivion as Tom deftly undid his belt, the clink of the metal latch resonating through the room before he tugged his trousers down his thighs; grappling your hips and pressing his throbbing erection against your ass, the only separation being the fabric of his black briefs.
"You think you're ready for me?" He murmured, his teeth immediately nipping at the flesh of your earlobe, his fingers burying bruises into your hips. "You sure this is what you want?"
You moaned, his words alone doing enough to make your entire lower body scream. "Yes, yes-I'm fucking sure."
"You want me to claim this wet little cunt? You want to make yourself mine?" His hand slithered around your hip, reaching toward your mound. Softly dragging a finger over your clit, he groaned as you involuntarily jerked your ass back against his cock. "Tell me."
"Yes!" You gasped as he began rubbing tight, harsh circles over your swollen nub, your jaw falling open in pure bliss. "Fuck me, Tom-please-I fucking need you."
"Atta girl," he praised, the tone of his voice eliciting a whimper past your teeth. You were so used to pissing him off that you never realized how much you loved pleasing him. "Keep being good for me...take this fucking cock."
His hand left your clit again, and you huffed, your eyes fluttering shut as you took a moment to collect yourself, sucking in lungfuls of air like you'd been starved of it for years. You felt Tom fumbling with his boxers, and you glanced behind you, watching as he finally pulled himself free, throbbing cock smacking against your ass.
As you caught sight of his size, your stomach leapt. "Holy fuck-“
"Shh," Tom cooed, watching your eyes. "Relax."
He was fucking huge, his cock twitching eagerly within his grasp as he enveloped the shaft with his fist, pumping himself a few times before he urged you to further bend over the desk, slicking his hot, needy length between your thighs. You squeezed your legs together, trying to roll your hips into him--and he grunted, muscles tightening while he slicked himself on your sex.
"Do you feel what you do to me?" he murmured, the strain in his voice practically palpable as he gripped your hips hard enough to bruise. "You’re the only girl I can't fucking resist."
Your lids fluttered. "Tom..."
The words brought a wave of heat crashing over your body, and you whimpered, cunt clenching as he directed the head of his cock toward your entrance, giving your ass a light slap with his free hand. Without wasting another second, he pushed into your core, his thick girth stretching you open with a sweet sting.
"Fuck," he groaned, apparently unable to help himself, his breath washing warm over the back of your neck. "Mm--you’re so fucking tight."
You whimpered, walls clenching around him as he inched himself deeper and deeper inside your heat, giving you the chance to adjust to his size. Your legs trembled, heart pounding in your chest as his free hand stealthily crept around, ascending the front of your body. It found your throat, clamping around it with just enough pressure to induce a dizzying haze in your head.
Once he'd sheathed himself fully inside your pussy, he paused, lips pressed against your ear as he pulled you up and against him.
"You still think you can handle me, princess?" He almost groaned, his body pulsating with restraint, one that was faltering further by the second. "If you think you can't-"
"No! I can handle it," you cut him off, desperation flooding your tone. "Fuck me--ruin me...whatever you want just please let me fucking cum for you."
With a low groan, he pulled out about an inch, immediately snapping his hips as he slammed back in, and you yelped, the head of his cock meeting your cervix, a dull ache flooding through you.
"Are you sure?" He purred, arrogance flooding his tone once again, as if he already anticipated you would regret those words. As if he knew he exceeded what you were prepared to handle. "Because once I start...I won't be able to control myself...not in a pussy this tight and fucking wet for me..."
"I'll be fine. Just...just fuck me," you hissed, feeling his grip on your throat tightening, your cunt desperate for release. You knew it was going to hurt, but you didn't care, you needed to be fucked. "Don’t fucking stop for anything."
"Mhm," he hummed, nipping at your neck. "That's what I like to hear."
Almost immediately, Tom began to move, meeting your request with eager anticipation. He was so big, so strong, so dominant, his cock fucking you deeper than you could have ever imagined. It only took a single quick thrust before he was rocking hard into you, hands clutching tighter at your neck and hip. You would have been more worried about the loud moans emanating from your chest if you weren't so focused on the sound of smacking skin, and his audible, ragged breath. But the harder he pounded you, the less you cared, body submitting to the resolution of a fortnight's longing.
The desk creaked and groaned with each rhythmic movement, the head of his cock meeting your cervix with almost every single thrust. His hand shifted from your throat and clamped over your mouth, muffling all of your squeals and moans and whimpers under the expanse of his smooth palm. His free hand slithered around to find your clit, wasting absolutely no time before connecting with the swollen nub and numbing the pain his cock was causing.
"Fuck, that's it," he purred, his breath a ragged snarl in your ear, almost completely unrecognizable. "You're doing so good, taking me so fucking deep."
Another sharp jerk and he hit your cervix hard, forcing a stifled wail into his hand. He groaned in your ear, increasing the pace on your clit, but the sensations were almost too much, and you found yourself trying to shift the angle, squirming against the desk to try and catch a break. In this midst of this, Tom didn't seem to notice or care. He just kept pounding into you, driving you toward orgasm even as the pain continued to steal your breath.
Finally, you sobbed, unable to stop the tears as each thrust sent fresh waves of agony through you, helpless against his powerful assault. Feeling the dampness hit his hand, Tom finally relented, only slightly, slowing the pace of his trusts.
"Shit…I broke you already, huh princess?" he growled in your ear, his teeth nipping at your pulse. "Good. That's what you fucking asked for--to take whatever I give you."
He released your mouth, hand falling to massage your tits as his fingers remained merciless on your clit, your pussy squeezing and pulsing while he built your climax at an alarming rate. You tried to breathe through your nose to hide your panting and gasping, pleasure peaking, lids squeezing shut when you felt your body ready to break against him.
"Tom-" you gasped, vision swirling behind damp lids as you squeezed them shut. "Tom, please-"
"Just wait," he hummed into your ear while you both shook with the power of his hips. "Be a good girl and hold off for me."
He pulled you even closer, your bodies moving as one as he pumped into you, drawing gentle lines over your nub. His teeth sank into your shoulder with an intensity that bordered on primal, releasing a garbled growl against your skin. It felt as if he teetered on the edge of control, the immense pleasure threatening to unleash a raw and unbridled side of him.
If this was him holding back, you were admittedly fucking scared to find out what he’s like when he’s not.
In the midst of that, you were trembling, mewling, quivering--your entire body shaking as you tried to ignore the heat coiling in your core, threatening to burst with every passing second. His free hand left your chest and latched onto your hip, holding you steady in place.
"Tom!" Your scream echoed, jaw slack with desperation coursing through every fiber. The plea spilled from your lips, unable to endure this for even a moment longer. "Please! Please-please!"
"Scream my name when you cum," he demanded, his lips pressed against your ear as he fucked you deep, completely lost in pleasure now. "Fucking scream it."
It was taking all of your strength to hold back your climax as you nodded. "Can I please-"
"Yes," he snarled, cutting you off. "Cum all over this fucking cock."
As if entirely on command, pleasure coursed through every single inch of your body, and with each thrust, the intensity multiplied. Your fingers gripped tightly onto the desk, your toes curling with pure ecstasy as your long-denied orgasm finally fucking erupted, hitting you like a shot to the gut.
You shattered. “Fuck! Tom! Oh, fuck-“
"Fuck me-" Tom muttered under his breath, his own eyes squeezed shut, his grip on your hip almost painful. "That's it--you feel so fucking good..."
Your cunt clamped down around his cock, milking him while he drove deeper and deeper into you, pushing himself through your aftershocks. Tom's movements became erratic, and his hips bucked hard, revealing his struggle to restrain himself until he knew you were fully past your high. He grunted, the sound deep and animalistic as he continued to pound into you, his face contorted in a mixture of ecstasy and determination.
You felt his grip tighten on your waist, digging his nails into your skin until he too finally erupted, pouring his cum deep inside your cunt, his lungs sputtering as he buried his face into the crook of your neck.
In the aftermath, the two of you took a long, silent moment to regain composure before daring to move. After your pulses had somewhat balanced out, Tom withdrew, slowly moving to adjust himself back to some form of modesty. Your breath came in pants, chest heaving, and your ass still tingled from the earlier onslaught. The intensity of the encounter left you both sated and oddly content.
As you slowly spun around, meeting Tom's eyes, a sly grin played on your lips. "I can't believe you denied me for so long...I've wanted you for years, and-“
"I wanted you to be sure," he stated flatly, re-latching his belt. "You know I don't do casual."
You huffed. "You don't do commitment either."
"For you, I will," he declared, his gaze briefly flickering to your lips. "Like I said, I don't share."
You smirked, rolling your eyes. "How could I want anyone else after that?"
"Figured." His own lips teased a smirk in response, and he shook his head in amusement. "Let's get to those questions, shall we?"
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Why Not Both.
PAIRING: Mattheo Riddle x Reader x Theodore Nott
INFO: Lucius Malfoy, fueled by disdain for your family's wealth and competitive Pureblood status, makes an unwanted advance at a public event. Fortunately, two old friends from your Hogwarts days come to your rescue, and grateful for their intervention, you seek a meaningful way to express your thanks.
TAGS: 18+, THREESOME. complete filth. slight sexual aggression/unwanted touching, violence, an ungodly amount of flirting, SMUT, fingering, hickeys, drug use, mentions of blood, throat fucking, oral(mrec), piv, degradation kink, praise kink, italian!theo.
"Please, for the love of all things magical, conduct yourself appropriately tonight, figlia."
Hidden behind the obscurity of your tinted black sunglasses, you executed an eye roll so pronounced you half-expected your eyes to vanish into the depths of your skull. The subtle percussion of your tongue against the back of your teeth preceded the moment as you composed yourself enough to deliver a response.
"I already told you," you retorted, curtly. "I'll play nice if he does."
Your father reciprocated the eye roll, reclining back against the supple leather of the limousine seat with an irritated huff. His gaze lingered on you, a silent calculation etched across his face, contemplating what tempting offer might sway you into comportment. He knew that you were not going to make it out of this gathering alive if you let your attitude get the best of you.
"What's the price tag this time, hm?" He tutted, fingers deftly adjusting his tie while sharing an anxious glance with your mother, perched nervously beside him. "A new purse? Some shoes, perhaps? Or are we gunning for another car?"
Suppressing a smirk, you lowered your sunglasses down the bridge of your nose, casting a pointed gaze over their rim at him.
"Are you seriously resorting to bribery, padre?" The feigned disbelief laced your voice, but your mother's glare sliced through it like a knife--a silent command to hush, one you chose to disregard. Adjusting your glasses, you exhaled a theatrically exasperated sigh. "Your lack of faith in me is genuinely disheartening. I assure you nothing but the epitome of professionalism from me tonight."
"Stronzate," (bullshit) your father snapped back, his eyes smouldering with a frustration intense enough to sear through your facade, clearly fed up with your antics. "Last time you peddled that line, you ended up with Lucius Malfoy's hand around your throat during what was supposed to be an informal business dinner."
You scoffed, a smirk playing on your lips before you could restrain it. "Not my fault that lunatic can't handle the damn truth. Would you prefer I let him take advantage of you? Step on you like a fucking cockroach?"
"Listen to me," he shifted to the edge of the limousine seat, his elbows finding a perch on his knees, hands firmly clasped together. Leaning forward, his gaze locked onto yours, his serious demeanor demanding your full focus. "Just because we have money doesn't mean I will bail you out if you happen to land yourself behind bars tonight. Do not fuck with the Malfoy's, figlia, I mean it."
"You sound afraid of him," you fired back, your expression a stoic mask, unruffled. "I wonder how your esteemed associates would feel about that...one of the wealthiest Pureblood wizards...intimidated by a bleached blonde-"
"Enough," he exhaled, weariness tainting his tone as he implored, "For Merlin's sake, behave your age for once--just tell me what you want."
Pouring a measured amount of champagne, he lifted the glass to his lips, the subtle clink echoing a blend of frustration and reluctant acceptance in his gaze. You huffed, reaching into your purse and retrieving your lip gloss and flip-open mirror. As you leisurely applied it, your thoughts raced, contemplating what might rein you in.
"I want him to stop mentally undressing me in front of his wife," you declared bluntly. "It's just plain rude."
Tossing your lipgloss and mirror back into your purse, a ripple of annoyance traversed your father's features, his countenance ready to unleash a torrent of reprimands in Italian, ones you'd heard a countless number of times before. It didn't take much to get under your father's skin.
However, before the first word could escape, your mother intervened with a firm, "Cut that out, figlia--just answer the bloody question."
Her intervention carried the weight of both authority and exasperation, effectively halting the imminent linguistic storm your father was about to unleash. With another dramatic eye roll and a matching huff of irritation, you straightened out against the leather, flattening the fabric of your tight black dress out against your thighs.
"Fine," you ground out through clenched teeth. With your chin defiantly raised, your gaze flicked back and forth between your parents. "Bags. A new Fendi, a replacement for the Christian I lost, and another Prada."
Your father grumbled something discontented in Italian, the disappointment clearly etched across his features as he parted his lips to respond; his brows pinched so tight it looked painful--until your mother swiftly raised a calming hand, quelling the potential storm.
Turning her eyes to you, she wore a wry smile and declared, "Deal."
A devilish smirk played across your lips as you nodded in agreement, satisfaction colouring your calculated arrangements. Handbags were hardly a necessity, considering you already owned more than you knew what to do with--but, if your father was determined to buy your silence, to keep you from retaliating against the biggest assholes in the entire wizarding world, one of whom was intent on tearing down your family's name out of sheer jealousy--then the price wasn't going to come cheap.
As the limo glided to a stop outside the opulent venue, you composed yourself, aware that tonight meant facing a sea of influential figures. Pureblood wizards--from the Nott family to the Riddles, the Malfoys, and the Berkshires--were all gathered at this prestigious ball, amongst many others. You knew tonight carried immense importance for your family, and you harboured every intention of keeping your opinions in check, and keeping your mouth shut.
But you couldn't say the same about your legs.
Stepping gracefully from the limousine, the resonance of your red stilettos hitting the cobblestones beneath them echoed in sophistication. A subtle adjustment of your dress against your thighs preceded your purposeful stride toward the entrance. Cameras relentlessly flashed from all angles, rendering the protective shield of your sunglasses almost futile against their blinding onslaught.
Squinting, you ascended the velvet stairs, only to feel a sizable hand rest on the small of your back, accompanied by a honey-like drawl in your ear.
"Easy there, Bella...we wouldn't want that perfect ass meeting the cobbles, now would we?"
You scoffed, your smirk undeniable. Turning your head, you caught a glimpse of the charming Italian boy you hadn't seen since graduation. The desire to fling yourself into his arms simmered within, yet you reserved such greetings for the more private confines indoors.
"Gods, how I've missed that sexy voice of yours," you teased, a pleasant warmth enveloping you at the sight of him. Clad in a crisp black suit, his hair styled to perfection with light stubble grooming him nicely--he looked even better than your memory served. "Remind me to grant you a proper kiss once we're inside."
"Missed more than just the voice, I hope," he quipped, a smug grin playing on his lips. Adjusting his suit jacket with a casual flair, he leaned in, his voice a low murmur. "Inside or outside, Bella, I'm not one to decline such tempting offers."
"Believe me, I'm keenly aware," you retorted, a sly grin playing on your lips. "You never were good at resisting temptation."
"Can't resist the irresistible, principessa," he replied, his tone laden with a provocative confidence. "I'd take your ass right here if you asked."
"Aren't you as bold as ever," you quipped, a grin playing on your lips as you finally reached the grand double doors. Theo's hand reluctantly left your back as he positioned himself behind you, gently ushering you forward. "Perhaps you could at least buy me a drink first?"
He huffed. "Anything you want--it's yours, angioletta."
Theodore graced your ass with a subtle smack as the two of you glided into the grand ballroom, its excessive expanse pulsating with the energy of wizards and witches converging from every corner of the globe. The occasion? A celebration for the new Minister of Magic--a matter that scarcely held your interest. The real allure? A night to revel in intoxication and reconnect with the charming Slytherin boys you'd wanted to see since graduation.
And here you were, the night only just unfolding, already engaged in a provocative exchange with one of the men you'd been yearning for. His hand rested tantalizingly low on your back, skillfully guiding you through the bustling crowd.
You drew nearer to Theodore as the two of you continued weaving through the crowd, lowering your voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "My parents gave me strict orders to steer clear of the Malfoys tonight, specifically Lucius."
"Huh, can't say I'm shocked," Theo chuckled, his grin stretching across his cheeks. "After that little incident at the meeting, I'm surprised they're letting you share the same room with him."
"So you heard about that." A flush warmed your face as you peeked at him over the edge of your sunglasses. "Was I really that terrible?"
He cast you a sidelong glance, his eyes twinkling. "Let's just say, your mouth has a reputation for getting you into quite a bit of trouble."
"Maybe," you quipped, your gaze confidently drifting towards the bar across the room. "Then again, it's also been known for getting me out of a fair bit of trouble."
Theo slipped behind you as you navigated through a cluster of witches, their dazzling diamond necklaces almost blinding, even through your shades.
"Mm, I wouldn't doubt it," he husked, the audible smirk in his voice. "That mouth of yours has its own set of skills, Bella...some men just can't handle it."
"Well, lucky for me, I prefer those who can handle a little challenge," you purred, turning to shoot him a sultry glance over your shoulder. "I intend on staying far, far away from him tonight."
"As much as I want to take your word for that..." he replied with a sly grin, cocking an eyebrow. "We both know how you are."
As the two of you finally reached the bar, a dazzling array of diamond bottles adorned the shelves against the wall. The counter, a masterpiece of ornate gold foiling on a white marbled surface, beckoned with an air of opulence. Theodore leaned over it, flashing a cheeky grin at the bartender.
"Two glasses of Dom Pérignon champagne," he requested smoothly, the words gliding off his tongue like silk, "per favore e grazie."
"Dom Pérignon?" Your jaw fell open, and you drew your sunglasses down the bridge of your nose to look at him. That champagne was over three hundred dollars a fucking glass. "Are you trying to get me to fuck you, or fall in love with you?"
He choked, snorting at your bluntness. "Why not both?”
Your grin was untameable as Theo's laughter resonated through the bustling room. Collecting himself, he accepted the glasses from the bartender, presenting one to you with a deviously charming grin. His eyes sparkled with desire as they traced the curve of your lips, before falling to observe the way your red-manicured nails delicately wrapped around the crystal glass.
Shaking himself from his reverie, he met your gaze again, his smirk growing wider. "Not to burst my own bubble or anything...but if it weren't for my parents picking up the tab, we'd be toasting with sparkling cider."
A soft laugh escaped you at his cheeky admission, and you raised your glass to meet his with a playful clink. "To your parents' tab."
As you toasted, you couldn't help but savour the familiar charm that had always intrigued you about him. Despite the magnetic connection and your undeniable attraction, the boundary between friendship and something more had remained uncharted territory throughout your school years.
You had every single intention of changing that, tonight.
As the liquid elegance glided down your throat, leaving behind a lingering warmth steeped in opulence, you held Theo's gaze as you lowered your glass, acutely aware that his eyes had yet to stray from yours. Taking a measured step closer, you tilted your head back slightly, maintaining the captivating connection as you closed the distance between your bodies.
"I believe there's still something I owe you, hm?" you purred, your voice a sultry whisper. "And perhaps...given the circumstances," you gestured to the expensive champagne in your hand, moistening your lips, "I might now owe you more."
Theo's response was a low, husky chuckle as his free hand found its place on your hip. His fingers pressed into your side with a possessive grip, while the hand clutching the glass tightened, threatening to shatter within his fingers.
Spurred on, you continued. "Unless, of course, we consider it a mere indulgence on your parents' generous tab...either way-"
"Oh no, no," he interrupted with a knowing tut, his gaze piercing through half-lidded eyes. "My parents appreciate repayment just as much as I do...consider me their collector."
"Mm," you breathed, red fingernails on your free hand trailing up his chest. "I suppose I better get to work, then, hm?"
His response was a low huff, a smouldering spark in his eyes. "Dio mi aiuti..."
A smirk played on your lips, a rush of heat colouring your face as his teasing plea to God sent a surge of desire through your thighs. Gliding your fingers higher up his chest, you seized his tie, drawing his mouth down to yours in a deliberate, unhurried kiss. With no sense of urgency, you explored his mouth, savouring the moment for all it was worth.
Until, abruptly, a curt voice sliced through the charged air, instantly extinguishing the flames that had been blazing between you and Theo. The sound made you want to vomit near instantly, the feigned niceness in its tone grating on your nerves like nails on a chalkboard. You knew there was only one fucking man a voice that sickening could ever belong to.
"Well, isn't that just adorable...young love in all its glory," he sneered, and as you and Theo reluctantly pulled away from each other, you released your grip on his tie, taking a measured step back. "...never thought you'd be able to find someone who would put up with that attitude of yours...colour me shocked. "
As your gaze met the tall, arrogant blonde man peering down at you, you bit your tongue hard enough to taste the metallic tang of blood. His eye twitched as he shamelessly scanned your body, tracing over every curve and inch of body that his evil gaze could find. You were grateful for your sunglasses now more than ever, as they perfectly concealed the intense eye roll you were directing at him.
And then, just as you were poised to respond, you caught sight of his son, Draco Malfoy, and his nephew, Mattheo Riddle, two more of your old housemates. Draco, accompanied by his wife, Astoria Greengrass, sauntered up beside his father. Each of their eyes widening in disbelief at the unexpected sight of you.
As Mattheo Riddle approached, clad in a crisp black suit and tie, his curly brown hair framing gleaming dark eyes and a strong jawline, your body ignited once more. The charm he exuded brought forth a desire you had worked extremely fucking hard to suppress during your school days, now resurfacing with an intensity that left you breathless.
"Holy shit," Mattheo breathed, moistening his lips as his dark eyes roamed over you from head to toe. He pulled you in for a hug, the smell of his cologne filling your nostrils and making your head spin without effort. Against your neck, he muttered. "Now that's a fucking sight for sore eyes."
Heat flooded your veins, spurred on by the sight of him and his compliment. You let your hand rub tender circles into his back, feeling the taut muscle tense beneath your touch.
"Flattery will get you everywhere, Riddle," you purred against his ear, your grin impossible to conceal, the warmth of his embrace intensifying the heat that flooded your veins. "I see your charm hasn't lost its touch...surprised you're not locked down yet."
"Never been more glad that I'm not," his hand slid lower, finding the small of your back, calloused palms catching on the fabric. "You're leaving very little to the imagination, wearing this..."
"Little something to fuel those late-night thoughts," you murmured, your voice a sensual drawl, heat rolling off your tongue, overflowing your veins. "Better enjoy the view while you can."
"Mm," his hand found your ass, giving it a harsh squeeze. "Don't doubt that I will."
As Mattheo finally pulled away, stepping over toward Theo and embracing him in a bro-hug, Lucius peered down at him in disgust. The atmosphere was filled with the low hum of conversation as Theo, Draco, and Astoria were deep in discussion.
Lucius was busy rambling on to Theodore's father, who had now also joined the group, seemingly oblivious to the tension simmering beneath the surface--but then abruptly shifted his attention to his nephew.
A wry huff of arrogance escaped him. "Do you possess any self-control?"
"Some, on a typical day," Mattheo replied, undisturbed, and with his gaze drifting back to you, he smirked. "Currently, almost none.”
"Right." Lucius' voice was flat, devoid of any emotion as he turned back to you. "Where are your parents? I've been needing to discuss some things with your father."
"They're around," you replied flatly, taking another sip of champagne, determined to deflect his probing. "I'm sure you'll run into them eventually; no one would ever dare ignore you, Lucius."
"A compliment from you? How peculiar." Lucius tilted his head slightly, a malicious glint in his eyes. "Similar to your father's recent behaviour...I must say he has been raising a few eyebrows lately."
"And how is that any concern of mine?" you retorted, your tone laced with partially-restrained irritation. "I don't keep tabs on my father's every move. Perhaps you should address him directly with your concerns."
"Perhaps." He smirked, his gaze lingering on you as he stepped closer--Theo, Mattheo, Astoria and Draco lost in their own conversation now. "But I believe you're easier to talk to, more...amenable."
Your eyes narrowed at his implication, but you maintained a stoic exterior. "I have no interest in entertaining conversation with you."
As he closed the distance, his gaze briefly shifted to the boys beside you, ensuring they were sufficiently distracted before refocusing on you.
"You should," he murmured, an insidious charm lacing his words. "You should want to hear what I have to say."
"Your arrogance is outstanding." Through gritted teeth, you practically snarled at him, "Get to the point."
"Your father has been dabbling in rather dubious dealings of late. It reflects poorly on me and those associated with him." Lucius leaned in closer, his voice a low murmur filled with calculated venom. "If something doesn't change, I'm going to have to take matters into my own hands."
"I try my best to stay out of my father's business," your pulse quickened, a surge of anger coursing through your veins, the air around you growing tenser with each passing second. "But, if I'm being honest, Lucius, I don't appreciate the way you're running your mouth. My parents-"
"Ah, ah," he raised a hand, silencing you. "You'd do well to remember your place, little witch." Lucius's eyes glinted with a sadistic satisfaction, and a smirk played on his lips. "Though I do suggest you start caring about your father's affairs; it might save you from the consequences of his foolish actions."
"I never asked for your advice," you hissed, the thread of restraint in your voice now frayed. "But if we're trading favours, I suggest you leave me the fuck alone before this gets ugly."
Lucius eradicated the remaining space between you, his imposing presence sending a shiver down your spine, the strong scent of whiskey enveloping you. Your gaze remained locked with his, refusing to yield, but as he leaned in, your body tensed. His lips brushed your ear, and you swallowed, fighting the discomfort.
"Women shouldn't curse, little witch, it isn't very ladylike..." he sneered, his voice dripping with vindictive amusement, the words crawling over your skin. "Perhaps your parents failed to teach you that? Amongst other things, it seems..."
You fought the urge to retch. "Get fucked, Lucius."
He huffed, his touch ghosting your hip as he muttered, "I just might."
The moment you felt his fingers graze your body, your hand rose instinctively, before you even had a chance to process it--delivering a swift slap to his cheek, making his head whip to the side, blonde locks flinging upon impact. A moment of tense silence hung in the air as you watched the anger seep into his features, witnessing his eyes darken with fury. Mimicking a move he'd pulled on you before, he seized your jaw, forcing your back against the edge of the bar.
But then, before he could utter a word, the scene unfolded like a rapid, chaotic dance. Strong hands forcefully grappled his shoulders, ripping him away from you within an instant.
"Keep your fucking hands off of her." It was Theodore's voice. Followed instantly by Mattheo's. "The fuck is wrong with you."
In the blink of an eye, Theodore was in action, hooking his arms around Lucius to restrain him, while Mattheo, fueled by raw anger, threw a powerful punch that landed square on Lucius' jaw. The room buzzed with gasps and whispers, the unexpected altercation taking center stage in the glamorous event.
Your stomach fell dramatically. There goes the handbags you'd bargained for.
As Lucius seethed with fury, he forcibly pulled himself out of Theodore's grasp, retaliating by landing a punch on his nephew. The impact split the skin over the bridge of Mattheo's nose, but undeterred, Mattheo swiftly retaliated with another punch, forcing Draco to step in and restrain him.
Sensing the escalating tension, you rushed forward, attempting to break up the skirmish. However, Draco hissed at you, his arm darting out to halt you, eyes narrowing in warning, "Just get out of here. You've done enough damage."
"Are you kidding me?" you snapped back, the clink of your glass punctuating your frustration as you discarded it on the bar. "You've always been a sickening little daddy's boy--wake the fuck up, Draco. Your father is an absolute asshole."
Before Draco could respond, the voices of your parents, entwined with Mattheo and Theodore's parents, resonated through the room, silencing and halting every single one of your collective movements. Your father unleashed a barrage of reprimands in Italian, while your mother shook her head in utter disappointment. She gripped your arm with enough force to make you groan.
Her words were no less than a snarl in your ear. "You had one fucking job tonight. One."
"I didn't do anything--he started it," your heart pounded, vision tinged with red as you spat back, uninterested in the ridicule. "He fucking touched me."
Lucius, now somewhat composed, turned to the security guards standing amidst the commotion and pointed decisively at you, Theodore, and Mattheo, his stern tone leaving no room for negotiation. "I want them removed. Immediately."
Your mother's grip on your arm loosened, her voice now softer as she said, "We'll talk about this later."
The security guards seized you, Mattheo, and Theodore by the arms, forcefully guiding you away from the group. Under the intense scrutiny of Lucius' gaze, you were pushed through the concealed back exit, leading to a row of valet cars waiting in the shadows. The door slammed shut behind you, leaving the chilly night air to greet you as the security guards swiftly retreated back into the vibrant chaos of the celebration, leaving you, Mattheo, and Theodore standing alone in the dimly lit alley.
Without missing a beat, Mattheo smoothly extracted a small container from his pocket, revealing a blunt that he quickly found a comfortable spot for between his teeth.
An irritated huff escaped you as you yanked off your sunglasses, shoving them into your purse. "What an insufferable prick."
The night air became tinged with the scent of both smoke and potent weed as Mattheo exhaled, Theodore hastily loosening his tie around his neck as Mattheo passed him the herbal offering.
"He's got his eyes set on you," Mattheo stated matter-of-factly, the words casually hanging in the air as if discussing the weather. "Not exactly discreet about it either, especially when his wife's not around."
As Theodore passed the blunt to you, you took a long, slow drag--the bitter taste of the weed lingering on your tongue as you mulled over Mattheo's words.
"He’s just looking for another thing to hang over my father's head." A sardonic smirk curled your lips, and you passed the weed back to Theo. "I'm not interested in anything he has to offer...there’s nothing he can give me that I can’t get myself.”
Theo smirked, the dim light casting shadows across his features as he took another drag of the blunt.
“I'll have to admit, it was quite the sight watching you slap Lucius bloody Malfoy..." he purred, smoke twirling around him as he paused, passing it back to Mattheo now. "Not many would dare."
“Well, he had it coming,” you chuckled, the tension of the evening dissipating slightly. “...I'm not one to back down."
"Oh, we know." Mattheo laughed, smoke escaping between his lips, wiping the blood off his chin with the back of his hand. "Your bad ass is always stirring up trouble, don't think that'll ever change."
You smirked, the corner of your lips curling with a hint of mischief. "What's life without a little trouble, hm?"
Theo chuckled, practically a scoff. “A little?"
"Please," you teasingly nipped at your bottom lip, head tilting in a seductive manner. "You know you love it."
Stepping closer to them, you sensually reached out, your fingers making deliberate contact with the fabric of their suit jackets, covering the strength of their strong arms. Moving slowly and deliberately, your touch trailed upward, both of their eyes locked onto every nuanced movement, captivated by your enticing grace.
"I believe I owe you both a special thanks for coming to my defense back there...my heroes." Your voice dipped lower, a sultry edge creeping in as you trailed your fingers upward, grazing their shoulders. "How could I ever repay you for such...courageous acts..."
"Sexy little damsel in distress…" Mattheo smirked, the blunt dangling from his lips as he leaned in, eyes dipping over your lips before falling lower, tracing your curves. "I can think of a few ways you could show your appreciation.”
Theo's grin mirrored Mattheo's as he added, "I think we'll have to discuss those options somewhere more private...back at my place, perhaps?"
"Mm," your stomach leapt with excitement, your stomach tightening in anticipation, you slowly withdrew your hands, stepping back. "Lead the way, boys."
Without needing to hear another word, Mattheo and Theo exchanged a knowing glance before they began to move toward the valeted cars, Mattheo's eyes scanning the line until they landed on a sparkling blacked-out Range Rover. Discarding the blunt with a casual flick, he turned back to you, a smirk playing on his lips.
The night air shimmered around Mattheo's dark pools as he confidently asserted, "We can take my car."
A casual wave set the valet into motion, retrieving his vehicle for him within an instant. The driver expertly guided the sleek black Range Rover to the forefront, its glossy paint reflecting the ambient lights. Mattheo opened the back door with a flourish, gracefully sliding in and making himself comfortable on the far side. A sly grin danced on his lips as he gestured for you to join him.
"After you," Theo's purr accompanied a playful smack to your ass, forcing a slight squeak from your throat, and you tsked at him before obliging.
As you settled into the lavish embrace of the Range Rover's spacious backseat, Theodore smoothly slipped in next to you, closing the door behind him. The interior exuded opulence, the cold leather meeting the warmth of your thighs. Mattheo leaned forward, parting the partition to share Theodore's address with the driver, his cologne enveloping you in an intoxicating embrace.
The air crackled with anticipation as he ended the conversation and slid the partition shut, reclining back against the seat with a provocative spread of his legs. Loosening his tie, he extracted a small bag from his pocket, revealing a white powdery substance within its confines.
"Fuck sakes," he grumbled, catching Theodore's attention. You both met his eyes. "Any chance you've got a mirror in that purse?"
"Who needs one when you've got her?" Theo huffed, snaking an arm around your waist, pulling you snug against his chest. His lips hovered over your ear, and he added, "She's got more than enough to work with, hm?"
As Theo's lips brushed your earlobe, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine, you couldn't ignore the electrifying sensation that danced across your skin. Mattheo's intense gaze fixed on you, adding to the palpable tension in the air as he waited, seemingly holding his breath for your response.
"Mm." Your voice came in a breathless, shuddering whisper, "go on then, Riddle."
Mattheo's eyes darkened with a mischievous glint as he inched closer. Unhesitatingly, he tapped a sprinkle of white powder delicately above the neckline of your dress, right on the edge of your chest. Theodore pulled you even closer against him as Mattheo leaned in, his head lowering to quickly sniff up the line of powder. A cascade of goosebumps erupted across your skin, and your back instinctively arched.
After he'd finished, lingering tingles traced along your skin, intensifying by the millions as Mattheo sensually licked up the remaining powder. His tongue danced against your skin, brushing the delicate tops of your breasts, provoking a series of deeper breaths from your lungs. Your thighs clenched involuntarily, all while Theodore chuckled softly into your ear.
Mattheo pulled up, his lips dangerously close to yours as he whispered. "You want some?"
When you shook your head, Mattheo shrugged, moving to pour more onto your chest--your heart racing as you watched him, eyes dark, jaw tensed. On instinct, you tugged your dress down a bit further, offering him better access. Arching your back into him, your breasts spilled out as you tugged the fabric a little too far, now nearly entirely revealed, nipples just barely covered by the black fabric. At the sight, Mattheo sucked in a sharp breath, jaw falling open.
"Fuck me," he murmured, his hand instinctively coming up to grope the one not covered in cocaine.
Theodore groaned against your ear, watching the entire show with just as much exasperation as Mattheo. His hold on your waist tightened, fingers digging into the fabric of your dress as through he was trying to tear it apart within his grasp.
"That's what you've been keeping from us...." Theo's voice rumbled with dark lust, the words almost tangible in the air as his lips grazed your skin. "…for all these fucking years."
The tender caress of Theo's lips on your neck elicited a soft whimper, matched by Mattheo burying his face in your chest, sniffing up the rest of the drugs, his fingers tightening their grip on your breast, kneading it with a primal urgency. Theo's initial gentle kisses on your neck evolved into hungry bites and passionate flicks of his tongue, sucking vibrant welts into your skin.
Your body wrestled with conflicting waves of sensation, not knowing which to focus on first--blood pooled beneath Theo's teeth as he broke the vessels and marked you violet, inspiring an electrifying surge between your legs, growing more desperate with each passing second. Each touch and graze intensified the sensitivity of your skin, leaving your mouth slightly agape, head tilted back, giving both men easier access.
Mattheo groaned into your chest, a primal sound echoing desire. His rough hands moved lower, finding the hem of your dress and sliding beneath it with urgency, hiking the fabric higher up along your thighs. Your legs willingly surrendered, drawn onto his lap as he pulled them there. His nails dug into your skin as he shifted his mouth higher up your neck, capturing the side opposite Theo, working his teeth along your pulse as he too began marking your skin, sucking purple possession marks to life.
A low, sensual moan escaped your parted lips, a delicious shudder rippling through your spine. As Theo pulled his lips from your skin, you turned your head toward him, drawn by an irresistible force. The moment your eyes locked, an electric charge sparked between you, and in an instant, his lips claimed yours--a blend of sweet champagne, the faint taste of cigarettes, and the lingering hint of weed creating an intoxicating mixture, dizzying your head even more than it already was.
Mattheo's grip tightened around your thigh, a deep, primal groan escaping him, reverberating against your neck. You gasped against Theo's mouth, your fingers moving to find Mattheo's big hand, squeezing him tightly, conveying a silent, unspoken urgency--inviting him to go higher.
Taking the invitation, Mattheo's fingers crawled upwards, pushing your dress further up your thighs until your thong was nearly visible. Theo's hands left your waist, curling around your stomach before moving higher, cupping your breasts and tightening his hold on them; palming and groping and squeezing as much of the supple flesh as he could.
As you whimpered into his mouth, he groaned in response, bucking his hips against you as his long fingers worked to tug them free, exposing your entire chest to the thick, heated air within the Rover.
"Fucking hell." Mattheo muttered, instantly stalling his movements, his plush lips glistening with saliva as his eyes hungrily took in everything you'd just exposed to him. "Now this is fuel for my late night thoughts..."
Lowering his face to your chest again, taking one of your nipples in his mouth without hesitation while Theo gently rolled the other one between his fingers, their collective movements causing you to whimper and squirm against them, eyes rolling back as they each panted against you; lips and hands and teeth claiming as much of your body as they could.
Mattheo's palm slipped higher, grazing your heat over the fabric of your panties, the pads of his first two fingers catching your clit through the thin layer--immediately causing your hips to buck toward his touch as he swirled his warm tongue around your nipple, sealing his lips around it, teeth giving it a gentle tug before he released it with a wet pop.
You moaned, entire body shuddering with need as Theo's teeth tugged on your bottom lip. Breaking the kiss, his mouth moved to press hot, moist kisses against your cheek before falling to your jawline and softly nipping at the ridge. You met Mattheo's gaze, his face flushed with lust, his eyes drilling into yours as he teased you, rough fingers ghosting over your slit, catching on the hem of your panties, watching every single subtle ministration of your face as he did.
"Please," you whispered, the desperation in your voice palpable. "Stop teasing me, Riddle."
"Eager little slut..." Mattheo huffed, amused, and you could feel Theo smirk against your skin, each of their grips hardening to iron. "Look at you...spoiled little rich girl--fuck...you need to be finger fucked in the back of my fucking Range, don't you?"
A guttural groan escaped you, your head falling back against Theo's shoulder. He huffed in your ear, and there was a shared satisfaction between the two of them as they reveled in the newfound ways they had you wrapped around their fingers, surrendering to them in ways you had never dreamed of before.
Mattheo exhaled, a visible effort to rein in his self-control, brushing his thumb against your clit, his free hand coming up to grip your jaw, redirecting your eyes back to his.
"You wanna make a mess all over my expensive fucking leather, huh?" His voice was torn, shredded, a snarl past his teeth. "Tell me."
Theo's hand inched lower, his teeth nipping at your earlobe, and you nodded, swallowing the knot of lust clogging your throat. "Yes-fuck-I do-please."
"Say it," he muttered, voice low, leaning closer to you as he brushed your clit again, sending a burst of electricity through your veins. "I want to hear you fucking beg for me."
Theo's hand found your thighs, slipping between them and pulling them further apart, his heavy breathing washing over your ear.
"Mattheo, fuck-please," you grumbled through a heavy breath, lungs hitching as he teased the band of your thong, slipping under and trailing down to your mound, pausing there. "Please stop being insufferable."
"Oh, Bella...wrong fucking answer..." Theo chuckled, nails biting into your thigh. "Try again."
You groaned, attempting to inch your pelvis forward, attempting to coax his hand further, but Mattheo was unyielding, instead choosing to shift his hold on your face, forcing your jaw apart with your thumb.
"Did you forget that we saved your pretty little ass back there, hm?" His thumb pressed on your tongue, eliciting a gag, his dark eyes taunting you, revelling in your vulnerability. "Drop the fucking attitude or I'll do it for you."
You nodded against his hand, tongue fighting him to no result. His fingers jabbed into your skin, craning your head back, forcing the back of your skull to rest against Theo's shoulder. He relieved your mouth of his thumb, quickly shifting his hand to your neck.
"Tell me you need it." He commanded, tightening his grip, partially obscuring your airway. "Tell me how bad you fucking want it."
"Please," you gasped, spit leaking from the side of your mouth. "I need it so bad, I need you to make me fucking cum-fuck-please..."
"Look at that...much better bambina..." Theo murmured against your ear, his warm breath inspiring a rush of heat to your cunt. "Who knew the spoiled little rich girl could beg."
You rolled your eyes, and Mattheo caught it, returning his thumb to your mouth while simultaneously rewarding your obedience. The pad of his finger drew slow circles around your clit, warmth flooding your body, your lids fluttering in relief. Your hands shifted, one clutching Theo's thigh and the other wrapping around Mattheo's shoulder, thrusting into his hair as Theo pulled your thighs further apart.
"Mm, you're already fucking dripping..." Mattheo growled, rubbing faster in response, sending shocks of pleasure through you, your hips bucking. "Filthy little bitch."
His words, accompanied by his movements, made you groan--and Mattheo huffed, craning your head back further. You were looking into the ceiling--not that it mattered. A haze of pleasure was clouding your vision, drool spilling from your mouth as he massaged your tongue with his thumb.
You felt Theo's fingers creep lower, tugging at the fabric of your panties before slipping under, slicking two of his slender digits in your wetness, teasing over your throbbing entrance. You mewled against Mattheo's thumb, causing him to retract it; and he shushed you with his mouth, capturing you in a slow, breathless kiss, long lashes fluttering shut as he increased the pace on your clit.
Theo's chest was rising and falling against your back as he slowly thrust two fingers into your wet cunt, provoking a restrained squeal as your entire body jerked in response, your cunt clamping hard around him. He growled against your ear, curling his fingers inside of you, scissoring you open as he began to pump them in and out.
"My fucking God, principessa..." Theo husked in your ear, his voice torn. "Such a tight little cunt...so fucking wet..."
As Mattheo pulled back, lips falling to attack your jawline, you were working hard to stifle your moans, spreading your legs wider, hips bucking toward their touch. Their movements were frantic and unyielding, as though they were trying to drive you toward orgasm as quickly as possible, your eyes rolling back and your chest reaching for oxygen it failed to find.
"You want to cum, don't you?" Mattheo muttered, his own voice cracking. You bobbed your head frantically, chewing on your lip hard enough to make it bleed. "Let's hear you say it, pretty little whore..."
"Please," you whispered, your voice shredded, trying your best to keep your voice down as Theo increased his pace, the slick sounds of his fingers pumping in and out of you filling the heated silence within the Range. "Please-please-please-"
"Please, what?" Theo husked, his voice breathless, driving his fingers deeper into your cunt.
"Let me cum," you pleaded, eyes squeezing shut, unable to stop the tightness coiling in your core, unable to slow your impending release. "Please, please let me cum."
"Mm," their response was a collective groan, Mattheo's lips trailing back up to find yours as he murmured against your lips. "Cum for us."
Theo grunted, working a third finger into your cunt, rolling his wrist, and Mattheo increased his pace, the two of them collectively dragging you over the edge--and without being able to control it, you wailed, hips bucking and walls pulsing as you came around their fingers, your ears ringing and your heart pounding as the results of their overwhelming, cumulative movements wracked through you, drowning you in a sea of pleasure.
"There we go..." Theo cooed against your pulse, the deep husk of his voice rolling through your body like thunder, your orgasm wracking every nerve, every cell. "I feel that little cunt squeezing me...fuck-I need to get inside you..."
"Oh Gods...oh fuck-" you whimpered, gasping and trying to catch your breath against Mattheo's mouth as the two of them continued to run their fingers along your slit, switching places as Theo brushed his first two fingers over your clit, and Mattheo thrust two of his own into your still sensitive cunt.
Your nails dug into Theo's thigh, the other gripping Mattheo's curls with force. "Fuck-oh...I can't--Theo-Matt...Gods-"
You broke open, moans flowing from your lips like water, unable to keep yourself quiet, unable to take the onslaught of pleasure that was encompassing you. Still sensitive, you were squirming, whining, whimpering into Mattheo's mouth, and they both shushed you, cooing softly as they increased the pace on your cunt.
Mattheo's free hand kneaded your tit, muttering against your lips. "Come on, little slut...you can take it..."
"We know how much you like to be spoiled, principessa..." Theo husked, lips pressed to your ear. "Don't pretend to be shy now...
You whimpered, squirming as you fought through your overstimulation, and this only seem to spur them on as Mattheo grunted before moving back to the side of your neck, hungry to consume any inch of your skin his eyes could catch.
With another groan, he latched on to you and sucked broken capillaries to existence, littering you with his possession. His hips rocked into the side of your thigh, the bulge between his legs becoming more insatiable with every passing second, electrifying the already unfathomable sensations sweltering inside you.
The atmosphere in the car was quickly changing, the two of them becoming far more aggressive, far less patient. You were flying, heart hammering in your chest, every single inch of your skin buzzing and shaking with pleasure. You knew it wouldn't be long before you broke again, your body screaming and begging for more.
"Such a pretty cunt..." Mattheo purred, curling his fingers inside you, jabbing you deep, rocking his wrist in ruthless rhythm. "You like that, little slut? You like letting us make you cum like this?"
"Yes-fuck-" the response was immediate, involuntary. "I love it-I fucking love it..."
"We wanted to do this years ago, bambina..." Theo purred, his voice like a soothing melody in your ear. "All those years in Slytherin...seeing that fat ass in the common room every fucking day..."
"Complete fucking torture." Mattheo added with a groan, the strain in his voice palpable. "I'm going to fuck the life out of this tight little cunt...fucking cum for me, slut."
You whined, your thighs quaking with the onset bursts of ecstasy, Theo moving his fingers over your clit in short, rough strokes--wetness seeping from between your legs and moistening the leather beneath them.
And as much as you tried to keep it together; to not crumble so fucking quickly, the two of them were too skilled, knowing your signs too well, and began to increase their paces, thrusting you deep under the surface of bliss once more--eyes lolling back as your body shivered in wake of your second orgasm.
"That's right." Theo purred, praise lining his lips. "Good girl... così buono.”
Gasping, you swallowed, noting the drool that had began trailing down your chin, and once you were squirming in sensitivity, they both pulled off--conveniently synchronized with the moment the vehicle's movements slowed, before finally coming to an abrupt stop. A discreet knock on the partition signaled your arrival at the destination.
As you readjusted your dress in an attempt to regain some form of decency, Theo popped open the door, gripping your hand and practically dragging you out of the car. Mattheo's palm lingered on your lower back, holding you steady and guiding you until you stood upright, each of them waiting until you'd regained some form of composure before moving. The two of them led you towards the villa, with Theo's firm grip wrapped around your wrist and Mattheo's hand planted securely on your lower back, your heels clacking off the stones with each step.
They ushered you into the opulent house, a stunning display of luxury that stole your breath. Mattheo swiftly took your purse, carelessly placing it on a polished bench by the entrance, shedding his jacket as he disappeared down a hall. Guided by Theo, you marveled at the plush furnishings and elegant decor as he led you toward the kitchen, his grip on your wrist tight enough to bruise.
The second you entered, the atmosphere shifted, the air becoming charged with anticipation as Theo's lips crashed onto yours once again, hungry and urgent and unyielding. He shoved your back against the marble counter, his hands gripping bunches of your dress and tugging it up your thighs, stomach, chest, before urging you to raise your hands--tugging it off and tossing it to the floor beside you.
His eyes widened, tongue darting out to wet his lips as he took in your exposed figure, inch by inch. "Oh mio Dio..."
A mischievous smirk played on your lips as you took hold of his tie, pulling him closer. Your lips collided passionately, and with a sense of urgency, your fingers worked swiftly to strip off his suit jacket and move toward his belt. The desire for release consumed you; you needed him now.
"Fuck, you're so hard..." you murmured against his lips as you'd undid the clasp and grazed your fingers over his throbbing length, wasting no time before tugging his pants down, revealing his black briefs. "Does this make us even?"
"Not quite, but it's a good start," he groaned, his words a breath past his teeth. "You one time inside that little pussy can settle a fucking three-hundred dollar debt?"
You huffed, biting back your smirk. "Only one way to find out."
In a swift, intense motion, Theo seized your hips, spinning you around and forcefully pushing you against the cool kitchen counter. Your breath hitched as he pressed his body against yours, hard cock grinding against your ass as his hands deftly hooked around the band of your panties, smoothly sliding them down your trembling thighs.
As soon as the fabric hit the floor, he groaned, knocking your legs further apart with his knee. His rough palm caressed the curve of your ass, before following it with a sharp spank, making you yelp, jolting forward as pleasured pain rang out over your skin.
Instinctively, you clenched, and from the border of your vision you noticed movement--Mattheo joining back in from where ever the fuck he'd ran off to, his tie removed and the first of his buttons undone.
Bringing himself to the side of the counter opposite you, his eyes traced your form, bent over, breasts pressed against the cool marble, Theodore looming behind you as he began to tug down his boxers, his thick length springing free in relief; tip glistening. The part of the counter you were bent over was not very wide, giving Mattheo the perfect position to loom in front of you, entangling his hands in your hair as he leant down, softly pressing his lips to yours.
"You want this, puttana?" Theodore cooed, teasing your cunt with false thrusts as he slicked himself along your slit, palm caressing the burning flesh of your ass. Before you could even think to respond, he spanked you once more, your flesh quaking from his power as you whimpered into Mattheo's mouth. "You want to take this cock like a good little slut?"
Mattheo pulled back, allowing you the ability to speak--his dark eyes boring into yours as he murmured. "Answer him."
You swallowed, yelping as Theo whacked you again. "Yes! I want to..."
"What to, what?" Mattheo purred, the sadistic nature of his voice drawing heat from your veins. One free hand shifting to palm his crotch.
“I want to take your cock..." you groaned, and Mattheo cocked an eyebrow, a silent gesture telling you to finish the sentence. "...like a good little slut."
"There we go..." Mattheo murmured, leaning in to kiss you again. "Such a good girl."
"Mm-so fucking wet," Theo groaned, teasing you with the head of his cock. "Shit..."
With his hand on your hip, he plunged into your warm, wet cunt, choking on his breath as you whined and pulsed around him, enveloping him to the base. Fuck--he was big--his thick girth stretching you open, the sweet sting causing you to moan helplessly into Mattheo's mouth.
"Fuck..." Theo cursed under his breath, hissing your name as you clenched around his length, head slamming into your cervix with the very first thrust. “Porca puttana…you're so tight..."
Mattheo pulled back, straightening out and smirking down at you as he fumbled with his belt, undoing the latch before pulling out his throbbing length, your stomach instantly doing a cartwheel at the sight of it. He was just as big as Theo, and equally as fucking needy--cock pulsing as he wrapped his fist around it, pumping himself a few times as he eyed your body--took in the sight of his best friend fucking you against his kitchen counter.
And then, Mattheo's hand resumed its place in your hair, yanking your head back as he directed your eyes to meet his. He leaned in slightly, dark gaze burning wounds into your skin. "Open that filthy mouth...stick out your tongue."
Moans were flying from your lips as Theo quickened his pace, pulling out and slamming back in, pinching your hips between his fingers, cursing under his breath in Italian. Through the haze of pleasure, you obeyed Mattheo's command, jaw dropping open before sticking out your tongue.
Mattheo leaned in, closer, and spat into your mouth. "You want to suck this cock?”
Your eyes rolled back, quickly losing yourself in the hurricane of pleasure Theo was providing you with, a deep growl leaving Mattheo's throat as he tightened his grip on your hair.
“Yes, please-“ you whimpered, scalp stinging. “Please let me suck your cock.”
With an approving groan, Mattheo moved closer, guiding his twitching length past your lips, using the hold on your hair to crank your head back, the angle allowing him a long, deep stroke into your mouth, and you groaned, gagging around him.
"Shh," Mattheo purred, head falling back, lids fluttering. "Relax your throat for me."
You choked, drooling and panting as he overwhelmed your throat--but he was so far gone, so encased in fogging fizzles of lust that he didn't even put anymore thought toward your struggles, his groans growing louder with every thrust.
"Fuck..." he breathed, tightening his fist in your hair, tugging the strands with force. "That's it," pushing further, he released a moan when your neck bulged, swelling with the invasion of his cock. "Choke on it, whore."
He snapped his hips, pushing deeper, and you gurgled against his dick, but it only caused him to increase his pace, adjusting your head back as he started fucking into your throat. Every thrust brought a noise from your mouth, and every noise he ignored, fingers scraping your skin as bliss overwhelmed his senses.
Your body was throbbing, desperately fighting off its third orgasm, tears stinging your eyes as Theo fucked you deep, stretching you wide, your wails being suffocated by Mattheo's thick cock, your body physically convulsing in overwhelming, toe-curling pleasure.
"She likes this," Theo breathed, his hand snaking under your hip, fingers connecting with your clit, and you wailed against Mattheo's cock, eyes rolling back in your skull as you drowned in pleasure. "…she likes being used like a piccola troia del cazzo.” (little fucking slut)
"Mhm," Mattheo breathed, voice hoarse with pleasure. "Yeah she fucking does."
Delight resonated at their words--you were so drunk on the euphoria of being fucked that you could only moan helplessly in agreement. You were close, your orgasm a quickly rising tide, ready to crash over you at any given moment. Your body was trembling, near convulsing, cunt clamping down around Theo, pushing him dangerously close to his own peak.
"Fuck-" Mattheo choked, lungs sputtering--Theo's fingers swirling your clit harsher, quicker. They were both close, you could tell. "Fucking pretty little mouth feels so good wrapped around me..."
As your eyes fluttered, dangerously close to reaching your own peak, both men stalled, pulling out abruptly. You almost wailed in protest, almost chewed them each out for abandoning you so fucking close to orgasm like that, until they moved, switching places as though it was a silent understanding, as though they communicated without you hearing it.
Theodore stepped around to your side of the counter, quickly fisting your hair and forcing your mouth to his cock. You whimpered, tasting your own juices on his thick length, but before you could even generate a thought in your head, Mattheo sank into your wet heat, sucking in air through his teeth as it swallowed his heavy, hard length.
"Fucking hell..." he groaned, hands sliding up your sides and finding your tits, cupping them as he began pummelling your cunt. "Fuck-this pussy was worth the wait...so fucking worth the wait..."
You howled in ecstasy, moaning and gagging simultaneously as Theodore fucked your throat with no mercy, thrusting in and out with an animalistic pace. Mattheo slid a hand down your stomach, trailing over the mound of your pussy, connecting with your clit and rubbing vigorous circles against it. The reaction was immediate--your whole body jolting and withering under each of their massive frames, your lungs gasping and panting for air.
"Fuck-you're squeezing me so hard-I'm gonna cum in this tight cunt..." Mattheo breathed, free hand giving your swollen ass cheek another harsh smack. "Fucking slut-shit..."
You whinged, your climax fast approaching, and Theo jerked your head further back, meeting your glossy eyes. "You want to cum, huh?" He muttered, fucking deep into your throat. "You want to fucking cum for us?"
You nodded, or tried to anyways, and Theo grinned, gracing your cheek with a playful smack. "Go on then."
Body obedient out of habit, you snapped, pleasure storming through your raw, shredded nerves, stripping them of any control they had left, legs twitching and lids squeezing shut while you screamed onto his dick. He cursed in satisfaction, his hands squeezing fistfuls of your hair while he held off his own peak, fucking into you until you began to struggle for breath, your lips and jaw going numb.
"Fuck me,” Mattheos voice was shredded, physically in pain, free hand whacking your ass. "She likes cumming on my fucking cock…sexy little bitch-fuck-“
Theo groaned, the sound doing unspeakable things to your body as Mattheo pulled his fingers off your clit and returned to clutch your hip. You knew they both were close, their movements turning erratic--Theo's chest sputtering with each breath until as you felt his hot cum shoot down the back of your throat, you mewled--swallowing every last drop.
You must have blacked out, you must have disconnected from your own body for a moment, because when you came to--all you knew was you could feel Mattheo's climax rupturing through him--you felt the violent fucking into your cervix, the hitching, stuttering of his hips, felt him silence himself against your back while he poured jets of cum into your cunt, felt him throbbing at the hilt as he stopped, wiping the sweat from his brow as he pulled out, tucking himself away.
The room was silent, and for a few moments you were paralyzed, focused on trying to bring breath back into your lungs, focused on trying to return your heart rate to a normal pace. At this point, you weren't sure what was intoxicating you anymore--wether it was the alcohol or the buzzing, overwhelming lust that was slowly fizzling off your skin--but you knew that you were spent, your body nothing more than a limp, exhausted, sweaty mass of flesh.
Mattheo gripped your arms, tugging you off the counter. Theo passed him his white dress shirt, and Mattheo aided you in slipping your arms inside before wrapping his arm around your waist--walking you over toward the couch, plopping down and lying back along its length. Theodore joined in, moving to your other side, the both of them nuzzling up against your exhausted body as the three of you worked to come down from your highs, worked to return your pulses back to a normal pace.
After a moment, once your head had stopped spinning, you flicked your gaze over the both of them, smirk teasing your lips. “Round two?”
#theodorenottsmut#theodore smut#theodore nott x reader#theodore nott smut#theodorenott#theodore nott#mattheosmut#mattheoriddle#mattheo smut#mattheo riddle smut#mattheo#draco malfoy smut#tom riddle smut#tomriddle smut#tomriddle x reader#theo nott x reader#theo nott smut#riddle smut#riddlesmut#lucius smut#lucius malfoy#harry potter#mattheo x you#mattheoxreader#mattheo riddle#tomriddlesmut#tom riddle#tom riddle x reader#draco smut
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Mattheo Riddle-Beg For Me
In the hallowed halls of Hogwarts, you, a brilliant Ravenclaw scholar known for your unwavering dedication to academics, found yourself in an unexpected battle of wits with the notorious bad boy of Slytherin, Mattheo Riddle.
Assigned as his tutor, you clashed fiercely due to his reckless attitude, a sharp contrast to your meticulous, by-the-book approach to life. Despite his smart remarks and arrogant charm, you stood your ground, unfazed by his attempts to break your resolve.
However, one day, during a particularly tense tutoring session, Mattheo had finally had enough, and nothing was ever the same.
Can this secret, toxic situationship blossom into something more? Or will you two forever be secret enemies turned lovers, destined to crash and burn.
CHAPTERS->
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty One
Twenty Two
Twenty Three
Twenty Four
Twenty Five
Twenty Six
Twenty Seven
Twenty Eight
Twenty Nine
Thirty
Thank you to everyone who has followed along with this story so far. I’d never have dreamed it would be so popular, and that I’d meet some of the most amazing, supportive people ever while writing it. You all mean the world to me and I love you endlessly. Hopefully this makes it easier to find all the chapters:) xoxo
🩵Find my master list here.
#beg for me#mattheoriddlesmut#mattheoriddle#mattheo smut#mattheo riddle#mattheo riddle smut#mattheosmut#mattheo#mattheoxreader#mattheo x y/n#mattheo x you#mattriddlesmut#matt riddle#theoriddlesmut#theoriddle#theodorenottsmut#theo nott x reader#theo riddle#theo nott smut#theodore nott x reader#theodore nott smut#harry potter#draco malfoy#draco malfoy smut#marcus lopez smut#marcuslopez#benjamin wadsworth#draco lucius malfoy#severus snape#draco smut
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mattheo riddle. let me fuck you.
PAIRING: Mattheo Riddle x Gryffindor!Reader
SUMMARY: worried that mattheo was just going to use you for sex and leave, you had him agree to courting you first until you felt you were ready to take it to the next level. after months of this, mattheo finally can’t take it anymore, and lands himself on his knees at your feet.
WORD COUNT: 4.1k.
TAGS: 18+, SMUT MDNI, Degradation, Praise, Absolute Feralism, Begging, Exhibitionism, Overstimulation, Multiple Orgasm, PIV, Semi-Public Sex (implied cloaking charm), Dirty Talk, Swearing, Oral (f receiving), Body Worship, Slight Breeding Kink.
Courage. Bravery. Honesty--all traits that your house, Gryffindor, valued and honoured.
However, conspicuously absent from that list, was stupidity. A trait that you certainly seemed to posses a fucking abundance of these days.
To delve into the specifics, you possessed stupidity in the form of pure idiocy that took root when you began messing around with a certain curly haired Slytherin boy. This curly haired Slytherin boy just so happened to come from a group of assholes who seemingly detested your friends as well as your own bloody existence, having been nothing shy of full blown enemies for majority of your time spent at Hogwarts.
And yet, somehow, one thing led to another with this certain boy, and before you knew it you'd found yourself in a certain situation you'd never have imagined in a million damn years.
A courtship.
Securing Mattheo Riddle's commitment to court you exclusively, with a firm agreement to abstain from sex until you felt unequivocally ready, baffled your understanding. This arrangement was meticulously crafted out of a deep-seated concern that, left unchecked, he might merely try fuck you and then vanish without a trace.
He was known for doing that.
The rules of the courtship were a safeguard for your heart, a decision rooted in self-preservation, rather than any preoccupation with your virginity or lack thereof.
The harsh reality was simple – you desired Mattheo Riddle, despite every instinct screaming that you shouldn't. To shield your heart from potential wreckage, you implemented a set of rules governing the extent to which Mattheo could advance in your relationship. The decision to progress to the next level, if and when you deemed him deserving, rested solely in your hands.
It was a fool proof plan. No way for you to get hurt.
However, to absolutely no one's surprise, Mattheo wasn't a fan of this plan –not when he reluctantly agreed to it, and certainly not now. Not as you were seated across from him in a dimly lit corner of the library, the top buttons of your white button-up uniform shirt straining against the curve of your tits, your tie a loosened mess around your neck, and your burgundy pleated skirt way too fucking short for any bloody blokes sanity to remain intact.
Mattheo had counted the fucking days since the two of you started messing around, each instance of shared intimacy without crossing that final threshold chipping away at his restraint like relentless erosion. He wasn't fucking sure how much he had left in him.
"Did you finish this one, Matt?" Your voice rang out as a soft whisper, the hum of it snapping Mattheo from his wandering thoughts.
Forcing himself to meet your eyes and not linger on the buttons of your shirt just begging for fucking relief, he nodded. "Yeah. This one too."
Mattheo lifted a divination book, a testament to the exhaustive night the two of you had spent cramming for tomorrow's exam. Weary, you gave a nod, pushing up from the desk.
"Let's put these away, yeah?" you suggested gently.
Mattheo's throat parched as he observed you tugging down your skirt, a belated realization of how perilously high it had inched past your hips. With an innocent effort to conceal the expanse of those enticingly thick thighs – the same thighs he enthusiastically found himself nestled between every damn night – you fueled a growing heat within him. Mattheo cleared his throat awkwardly, giving a nod before pushing himself up as well.
As the two of you retreated into a dimmer, more secluded section of the library, you bent at the hips to return your book to its shelf. Unmindful of Mattheo's intense gaze, exhausted yet persistent, you began chattering. "I think there might be one more we can skim through, if you're still up for it-"
That thought abruptly dissolved as two sizable, calloused hands sought out your body, gripping anywhere and everywhere they could. An instinctive flinch involuntarily escaped you, but the sensation of those hands delicately tracing your thighs swiftly eased your tension. A trail of burning flames surged up your torso, and you instinctively straightened against him.
"For fucks sake." Mattheo's voice resonated as a low, deep growl in your ear, so intense you questioned whether he meant for you to hear it. His fingers clawed at the buttons of your shirt, nearly tearing it open in a frenzy. "What the fuck are you doing to me."
"Matt-" your hands came up, finding his. The two of you had certainly messed around in a lot of questionable places, but the library? At midnight on a weekday? "W-what are you-"
That sentence was abruptly cut short as Mattheo's lips attacked your neck at the same exact moment he slipped a hand through your now unbottoned shirt and roughly cupped one of your tits, twirling his thumb over your nipple. An entire body shudder rumbled through your limbs and the softest of moans escaped your lips, filling the charged air between you.
Music to Mattheo's fucking ears.
"Let me fuck you." It wasnt necessarily a demand but more of a plea. The desperation in his tone was fucking palpable. He sunk his teeth into the side of your neck as he pressed his hips against your ass, the entirety of his erection jabbing into your back. "Let me fucking fuck you."
You gasped, lids fluttering in an involuntary response as his hand switched to your other breast now, kneading and groping and squeezing with just as much fervour, more even. When you moaned again, he growled against your neck, pulling off you momentarily just to spin you around to face him.
His hands seized your hips, pressing you back against the shelf. "What is it, princess? What the fuck do you need from me?"
You scarcely had a moment to absorb the question, accompanied by the raw, desperate vulnerability in his tone, before he surged into action again. Long fingers slipped beneath the waistband of your skirt, while the other hand ascended to your jaw, gently tilting your head back to meet his intense gaze.
"I've been so fucking good, have I not?" His fingers inched excruciatingly slow over your mound, taking his time to tease you for all he could, watching every subtle ministration of your face as he went. "I've stayed out of fights. Haven't partied. I've been so fucking loyal..."
You swallowed, acknowledging the sincerity in his words. Yes, all those things were undeniably true. Mattheo had transformed into a different man in recent times. While you were drawn to him for the chaotic soul he was, the fact that he willingly opted out of party nights to spend time with you hadn't escaped your notice in the slightest.
Mattheo noted your silence. "Was it the drugs? Because you know I quit those."
Long fingers crept toward your slit, one finger gliding along and coating itself in your slick. Gods, if you weren't already fucking dripping for him.
You tried to shake your head. "No, Matty..."
His hold on your jaw tightened as he felt how fucking wet you already were. He snuffed a groan in his throat. How a little fucking Gryffindor could manage to have him in such a chokehold was beyond his comprehension.
"Is it the smokes?" He tilted his head, watching your eyes. "Because, fuck--I'll light every last one into flames right here in this fucking isle. I'll use the ashes to sear your fucking name onto my skin--just give me the goddamn words."
As his finger connected with your clit, drawing quick frantic circles over it, you mewled, your hands squeezing his biceps as your brain could only muster the comprehension to say one fucking word.
"Mattheo-"
"Mhm." Mattheo groaned, pressing his lips to your temple, his hand on your jaw slithering down to clasp a firm hold around your neck. "Yeah, baby, that's my name, fuck...say it again."
His pace on your clit increased, your head spun with carnal lust. Intoxicated. "Mattheo-"
"Yeah, good girl. Fuck--so fucking good." The reply came within seconds, along with the release of your throat, his hand gliding back to tangle in your hair. "Come on, baby, you know I'm not in this for the sex...you know I want way more than that."
If you hadn't already been rendered helpless and speechless from his relentless pace on your clit, you would have scoffed at that. But instead, all you could do was attempt to breathe the words out between your moans.
Your lids squeezed shut, fingernails digging into the fabric of his uniform. "I-I don't know that, actually."
"Fuck." Mattheo dipped low, his finger thrusting into your cunt before you could even realize it had, his thumb continuing the pace on your clit. The way your wet walls gripped his finger as he pumped it in and out of you was enough to send him into pure fucking desperation. He sucked in a deep inhale, gathering himself. "How do you figure that, hm?"
"Because-ah-here you are practically fucking begging me to let you fuck me." Your back arched, your legs trembling. If it wasn't for Mattheo's looming frame practically pinning you against this shelf, you were certain you'd be a pile of limbs on the floor at his feet. "You're just...t-telling me what I want to hear, Matty."
"I'm not." His pace increased, his brows knit tight. He didn't like that response. Not one fucking bit. His lips found your ear, his grip on your hair intensifying. "You don't understand how fucking bad I want you--how fucking bad I want every single last inch of you. Your laugh, your smile, your wit, your heart, your fucking soul. You haunt me every moment I'm awake. Even when I'm asleep you're there, fucking torturing me. I dream about waking up next to you. I dream about growing old with you. I dream about worshipping you, pleasuring you. I dream about pumping this perfect cunt full of my cum. No woman has ever fucking done this to me. I'm insane for you. For fucks sake please let me fucking fuck you princess. I need you so fucking bad. All of you."
"Gods," was all you could say, not a single shred of coherence left in your brain, not as those words bounced around inside your head in rhythmic hums synced with the movement of his fingers. You were right there. "Matt--fuck, I'm gonna cum-"
"Mhm, go on baby," he cooed with a softness that seemed to fray against the edges of desperation, his voice nearly shredding against his vocal cords. How he was keeping himself together was truly fucking impressive. "You're so fucking good for me. Such a pretty fucking pussy, hm?"
"Yours," you breathed out just as your vision blurred, your entire body shuddering around his fingers. "It's all yours!"
A choked gasp slipped from your lips, swiftly muffled by the plush entirety of Mattheo's mouth. His tongue invaded past your teeth, meticulously exploring your gums as if etching the details into memory. The sound of his groan reverberated through you, but it soon became a mere echo as your ears rang and your orgasm charged, coursing through every inch of your being, leaving your head spinning and your body trembling against the shelf.
Mattheo withdrew his lips from yours, sensing the aftershocks of your orgasm rippling through you, sure in the fact you had regained enough composure to remain quiet without his help. He grazed his teeth along your jawline, warm breath bathing your skin as both of you panted in unison, bodies pressed and fighting for breath as he slowly pulled his finger from your cunt and teased over your clit with slow, sensual swirls.
"Let me fuck you," he repeated again, softer this time, his voice a whisper as light as a feather in the air. "You said it's mine...you said this pussy belongs to me."
"Yes," you panted, squirming against his hold as he continued his slow teasing strokes over your clit. "I...I did say that...it does..."
"Mm," his dark eyes lingered over your lips before he leaned in slightly, resting his forehead against yours, erratic breaths intermingling. "Please. Fucking please, let me take what's mine."
Mattheo Riddle had gone by many names over the years; an asshole, a delinquent, a rebel--but a man with manners? A man who'd ever had to beg and plead for something he wanted? That was not something you would have ever included in his description. Seeing him like this, completely and openly vulnerable, did something to you. Something you knew you could no longer resist. This was a man you knew you were willing to take risks for, willing to risk getting hurt for. It'd been fucking months. You wanted him. Just as fucking badly as he wanted you.
"I dunno, Matty," you grinned, unable to fight it off even if you tried. "Maybe you should say please again...maybe you should say it on your knees..."
Mattheo huffed, a groan accompanying it.
"Dirty, dirty little thing..." he whispered, pulling his hand from your cunt entirely now, both hands shifting to your hips, gracing them with a feral squeeze. "You really fucking are mine, aren’t you?"
As Mattheo Riddle dropped to his knees at your feet, you were certain the entire world had faded away. You were certain that time no longer existed and that there wasn't a single other living being in the entire expanse of the universe--all there was, across all existing planes of reality, was you and this messy, curly haired boy at your feet, looking up at you with dreamy chocolate eyes, poised to beg and fucking plead for release from his torment.
"Fuck, you're beautiful," his hands trailed a steady path from your hips down your thighs, squeezing and grabbing every inch of flesh he could. "You know that, right?"
You pulled your lip between your teeth, unable to peel your eyes off this boy before you. He was mesmerizing, In all his glory. Every last fucking molecule of him.
"Yes, Matty..." you breathed, your hands clutching at the wooden bookshelf behind you, steadying yourself. "You tell me a thousand times a day."
"Only a thousand? I was aiming for way more than that." Mattheo hummed, wetting his smirk-adorned lips as he brought his mouth to your inner thigh, softly nipping at it. "Guess I have to step my game up, huh?"
You blinked, pulse pounding in your ears. “I-“
“Please, princess…” Mattheo shifted, snapping himself back to the task at hand, nipping at your other thigh now, his voice so soft you almost missed it. His eyes never left yours. “Fucking hell.”
In one swift movement, his hands gripped your thighs and spread them apart, one leg slung over his shoulder as he brought his lips to your already dripping cunt, placing a vulgar kiss to it, tongue delving into your slit, a trembling groan echoing in his throat when he swallowed your wetness.
Your lungs sputtered, head falling back against the shelf--his eyes, in the pits of perversion, watched you, soaking in your speechless delight while he explored each tiny crevice of your cunt. Bliss built inside of you for the second time, blocks of white hot energy, stacking with every second those velvety, full lips massaged your folds. Your mouth fell in an open pant, your hips rocking into his face--his hands moved, sticking your wrists to your hips as he gripped you there.
You struggled to find your breath--oxygen had left the room--and you squeezed your eyes shut, desperate to keep your moans quiet. Your previous orgasm still had you tingling, the stimulation almost, almost too much--but you found yourself climbing toward your second with little effort. Your eyes rolled back, pleasure crashing over you, tiny moans leaving you while he sucked slowly on your clit, engorged and throbbing at his lips.
"Fuck, Mattheo-" you whined, your nails digging into the flesh of your own thighs as his strong grip kept them pinned there. "I'm gonna-fuck-"
Your core thumped with a demand to cum--Mattheo was reining you to a cliff, your desire a wild animal, bucking with abandon and ecstasy.
"Mhm, that's it," he muttered into your flesh. "Let me fucking taste you."
His tongue swirled over your nub, slipping wet circles around it before he groaned and sucked it hard between his teeth. You wailed, cracked, orgasm gushing through you, a geyser, a cascade of ecstasy that left you quaking, your walls spasming at his chin.
There was no more holding back your moans. "Oh--f-fuck!"
Mattheo swallowed your release hungrily, releasing your wrists and clutching your hips to his head, as if the evidence of your pleasure sustained him, laving at you until you squeaked and jerked from sensitivity. With a satisfied gasp, he released you entirely, slowly rising back up to his full height, watching with tethered emotion while you descended from your high.
Without even giving you the chance to process it, he reached down and swiped two fingers along your slit, collecting your cum before bringing it up to your lips and urging it past your teeth.
"That's what I do to you, baby," he cooed, his eyes far less intense than they were before. His free hand brushed the sweat dampened hair away from your forehead, watching as you wrapped your lips around his fingers and worked them clean. "You like that?"
You nodded, heat flashing your face, and Mattheo groaned appreciatively, slowly pulling his fingers from your mouth. His gentle grip found your chin now, drawing your eyes to his.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, "you don't have to-"
You cut him off. "Fuck me, Matty."
Mattheo blinked, and you reached for his belt.
"Please, Mattheo," you clenched, body quaking with need. Even after two orgasms you still wanted more, needed more. You needed him, and now you were the one willing to beg for it. "Please, fuck me."
Almost immediately, Mattheo's eyes darkened, his gaze glossing over with a hunger that spoke volumes far louder than any words ever fucking could. He leaned in slightly, your scent still lingering on his breath.
"You want me inside you? Hm?" He purred, lips grazing over yours. "You want me to fuck you here? Open and exposed for anyone to see?"
You smirked knowingly. The cloaking charm he had cast didn't escape your notice. This boy always had a knack for thinking one step ahead. Yet, the exhilaration of the prospect was just another facet that had initially drawn you to him.
You nodded. "Yes, Mattheo...I need you..."
Mattheo pressed his lips to yours, not wasting another singular second of time as his hands moved to the clasp on his belt, fumbling with it, a low groan escaping him as he pulled his throbbing cock free, gliding his fist over it a few times as his tongue hungrily fought with yours.
Mattheo's hands shifted to your shoulders, spinning you around, your own hands grasping at the shelving in front of you. You felt the warmth of his thick length gliding between your thighs, teasing you, slicking himself in your wetness.
"You're sure you want this?" Mattheo's voice was a soft growl in your ear, his hands grasping at your hips with enough force to bruise. "Fuck, princess, please be fucking sure."
The reaction was immediate. As though he asked you if you needed oxygen to breathe. "Gods, I'm fucking sure, Mattheo. I'm so fucking sure."
"Fuck," he muttered, pressing his face into the crook of your neck, fingernails digging into your flesh, pulling your skirt higher up your torso. "You've got me so fucked up, princess..."
As he slicked his length over your core once more, teasing your entrance, you whimpered. He was so smooth and silky and fucking big...you knew this was going to sting, even after two orgasms, even after he had you dripping down your thighs. Just that thought alone made your pussy clench, you'd do fucking anything to get him inside of you.
"Mattheo..." you whined, your body tensing with each false thrust. "Stop teasing me."
"Shit,” he breathed, easing the head of his length into you now, before slowly pulling out. "I'm teasing myself, baby...I don't know if I'm going to be able to control myself-"
You groaned, shuddering. "Please!"
Mattheo matched your groan with one of his own, and with one smooth movement, he tightened his grip on your hips, tugging you closer before he drove his dick into your cunt, splitting you open with one deep, slow thrust.
"Oh..." he moaned, paused, froze, entire body seemingly turned to stone. The only outward sign of his consciousness was his rapid breath washing over your neck. "...fuck."
You gripped the edges of the shelf with such intensity your knuckles were pale, doing everything within your power to keep quiet. The feeling of him seated inside you like this was everything you'd fucking imagined it to be. Better even. Your entire body was tense with bliss, your walls moulding around him.
Mattheo's lungs sputtered. "Relax...fuck-relax around me, baby..."
"I-" You weren't sure what he meant, your body trembling, your heart pounding in your throat. "Matt-"
"I'm not going to fucking last," Mattheo growled into your ear, the strain in his vocal cords more prominent than ever. "...if you keep squeezing me like that."
You mewled, head falling back against his shoulder as you fought to suck oxygen into your lungs. Mattheo finally began to move inside you; slow, easy strokes in an effort to give you a chance to adjust, feeling your tight walls relaxing around his thick girth, before he pulled out entirely and slammed back in, stuffing you full, groaning as you pulsed around him with each brief pause.
"Fuck...tight fucking pussy...so fucking wet..." he whispered, lips pressed against your ear. "All fucking mine."
Any ounces of restraint Mattheo had managed to maintain prior to this clearly had now been entirely annihilated as he increased his pace, fucking into you like a savage, as though he'd never get to fuck you again. He panted into your ear, groaning, fingernails bruising your thighs while he hammered your cervix with thrust after thrust after thrust. Sputtered curses left him under his breath and he attempted to silence himself with your neck, biting and nibbling at your throat. You stifled every single noise that threatened to leave your lips, body bouncing with the power of his hips, air hiccuping in your lungs as he pounded you.
"This little pussy is mine...you're mine..." he growled, fingers snaking down and brushing over your clit. "Fuck, you feel so good...I can't believe you kept this from me for so fucking long..."
Rapture numbed you, at the edge of your skin, a typhoon ready to wreck you witless. Your lids fluttered, teeth biting your lip with enough force to draw blood. He was going to make you crack. Make you fucking scream. There was no way you could continue being quiet when he was fucking you this good.
"M'sorry, Matty-" you weren't even sure what you were apologizing for. "So good...so deep...I-"
"Cum for me." Desire had consumed you both, his pace embodying complete desperation, a frenzied, urgent need to bring you both to orgasm. "Cum so I can fucking breed you...pump this little cunt full of my cum like I've dreamed of doing for months..."
Mattheo increased his pace on your clit, thrusts deepening even further--which you didn't even think was physically possible. He was slamming you deep, panting with every snap of his hips, your pussy hot and slick and pulsing with your oncoming climax.
You couldn't hold it back anymore--"Oh Gods-Mattheo!"
You shattered, exploded into flames, spectrum of colour blazing through your mind, a string of sobbing wails fleeing you as pulsed and spasmed on his dick, third climax shuddering through your veins. Mattheo groaned, clamping his palm over your lips as he continued to drill into you, holding off his own climax for as long as he could until he was physically unable to control himself--and he cursed, lungs sputtering as his hips slowed, cock twitching inside you as he poured his cum inside your cunt.
The room itself seemed to shudder, a tremor rumbling in the hardwood until he had finished and slowly pulled out, a deep, satisfied sigh leaving his chest.
After you collected yourself enough you spun around and watched as he tucked himself away, brushing his dampened curly hair back from his forehead. He straightened out, tucking the soft white fabric of his uniform shirt back into his pants before doing up his belt.
The second his eyes met yours, you reached for him. "I'm sorry for making you wait-"
"Don't ever be sorry," he cut you off, pulling you into him and placing a soft kiss on your forehead. "You were more than worth the wait, baby."
#mattheo riddle#mattheoriddle#mattheosmut#mattheo riddle smut#mattheo#mattheo x you#mattheoxreader#mattheo x y/n#mattheo smut#mattheoriddlesmut#riddle smut#tom riddle#harry potter#slytherin boys#slytherinboys#mattriddlesmut#matt riddle#theoriddlesmut#theoriddle#theodorenottsmut#theo riddle#tomriddle#tom riddle smut#marcuslopezsmut#marcuslopez#benjaminwadsworth#benjamin wadsworth#dracomalfoy#harrypotter#theodore nott smut
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Mattheo Riddle. | couldn’t help yourself.
PAIRING: Mattheo Riddle × Reader
SUMMARY: PHEW…uh-pure smut? like, extremely self-indulgent exhibitionism, with overstim thrown in there too. i’m sorry. but i’m also not. reader teases matty during class and makes him go feral.
WORD COUNT: 3.8k.
TAGS: 18+, SMUT MDNI, DUBCON, Degradation, Praise, Dom!Mattheo, Sub!Reader, Absolute Feralism, Humiliation, Spitting, Very Slight Daddy Kink, Exhibitionism, Overstimulation, Multiple Orgasm, Multiple Creampie, PIV, Semi-Public Sex, Dirty Talk.
Mattheo's usually charismatic demeanour had been replaced by one of raw fury as he dragged you by the arm into a nearby closet, directly following an admittedly heated potions lecture. You could feel the fire emanating off him, his body tensed with an unspoken rage. You knew you'd fucked up.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" he spat out, his voice low and dangerous as he slammed the door shut behind you, blanketing the two of you in darkness. "Trying to get me hard in class like that?"
You could barely catch your breath, the scent of his cologne and the feel of his fingers still lingering on your skin as you stood meekly before him. Despite his anger, you could see the hints of lust burning within his dark eyes, betraying the true nature of his feelings towards you.
"I'm sorry," you whispered, your voice shaking as he backed you up against the door, your fingers trembling at your sides. "I-I couldn't help myself, Matty-"
"You couldn't help yourself?" he repeated, his lips dangerously close to yours as he spoke, hungry eyes peering down at you. "You couldn't help but try and turn me on in the middle of a fucking lecture? Do you see how fucking hard you made me?"
Advancing, his hands found purchase against the door on either side of your head, exerting a subtle but commanding pressure. As he pressed closer, you squirmed, acutely aware of the firm, insistent length of his grazing against your stomach. A tempting desire stirred within, urging you to reach out and grope him, to make him moan beneath your touch. Yet, you knew better than to push him any further.
"I'm sorry," you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper as you looked up at him with doe-eyes, filled with a mix of fear and arousal. "Please don't be mad."
Mattheo let out a low growl, his nails digging into the wood next to your head as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear, his body towering over yours, already rendering you powerless beneath him.
"You want me to be mad," he muttered, his lips ghosting along your jaw in a teasing caress, heat pooling from your core and soaking through the lacy fabric of your panties. "You want me to punish you for being such a dirty fucking slut, don't you?"
A jolt coursed through your stomach, and it was then that the realization dawned on you that he might actually fuck you in this cramped closet, situated in the midst of a bustling hallway where the imminent risk of discovery loomed.
The proximity to other students and faculty outside the door intensified the gravity of the situation. Somehow, you hadn't grasped this possibility earlier, your focus consumed by your boyfriends overwhelming intensity. But now, as the weight of potential consequences sank in, you felt the increased urgency to diffuse the escalating scenario before it spiraled into a precarious exposure.
"N-no, Matty--I'm sorry," your voice trembled in a hushed whisper, the words catching in your throat. Arousal had you choking on your apology, and even to yourself, the plea felt unconvincing. "Please, let's just-"
"You think that's appropriate behaviour? You think it's okay to act like that in front of everyone, huh?" he hissed, his breath hot against your ear as he pressed his body against yours, halting your pathetic attempt at talking him down. "You little fucking tease."
Without wasting another second, he shifted, his big hungry hands roaming over your body, exploring every inch of your trembling form as he vented his frustration. His fingers dug into your hips, pulling you tightly against him as he ground his hardness into the crease of your thigh, your head falling back and meeting the resistance of the doors thin wood.
"I could have you right now if I wanted to," he muttered, his voice low and menacing as his lips grazed over your lobe. "You'd let me, wouldn't you? You want my cock, don't you?"
You quivered at the feel of his warm breath against your skin, your heart racing in your chest as you wondered what the fuck he would do next. There was something exhilarating about being at Mattheo's mercy, about being on the receiving end of his fiery temper and dangerous desires. You loved testing your boyfriend for this very reason alone, regardless of how it always seemed to put you in rather precarious positions.
"Matty-" you muttered, cautiously raising your hands, gently pressing them against his sides in an attempt to ground you both, to remind him of where you were. "Let's go back to-"
"Shut the fuck up," he spat, his voice slicing through the air with a sharper edge.
One hand disengaged from your body, swiftly moving to undo his belt, and the metallic jangle of the latch snapped you back to reality. As his trousers slid halfway down his thighs, his other hand seized a fistful of your hair, compelling your gaze to meet the throbbing evidence of arousal that you had singlehandedly incited.
"See what you fucking did to me? See how fucking hard I am?" His voice was shredded, torn, almost pained, his grip in your hair mimicking his intensity as he jostled your head in his grasp. "You caused this fucking problem, you're going to fix it."
"It's not that bad, Matty," you muttered, lifting your shoulders in a nonchalant shrug, attempting to preserve a semblance of composure. Lying through your teeth was a skill you were never good at. He was so fucking hard it looked painful. "You've had worse."
Mattheo groaned, the sound reverberating as he slammed his fist against the door, bringing your head along with it. Without giving you a second to steady your blurred vision, his free hand gripped your jaw, his intense gaze locking onto yours, lips so close they’d touch with a deep enough breath.
"Yeah? You wanna' fucking test that theory?" he growled, his eyes narrowing in challenge. "You wanna' feel how much this fucking hurts?"
You mewled, entirely involuntarily, your body seemingly taking on a mind of its own. You could feel yourself getting wetter by the second as Mattheo leaned in closer, licking a hot trail up the side of your neck and biting down hard on your ear, making you squeal far louder than what you should have.
"You gonna' be quiet for me? Or are you gonna' get us caught, huh?" His hand released your jaw, navigating to the band of your panties, skillfully tugging them down your thighs. Stepping back, he afforded you space to step out of them, yet his other hand remained steadfast, refusing to abandon its hold on your hair. "You'd like that though, wouldn't you? Someone walking in to find me fucking my dumb little girlfriend like the filthy fucking whore she is."
"Fuck," another shift, and Mattheo was working his briefs down his thighs now. "I'm not a whore-"
"Mhm," he sneered, the arrogant tone of his voice making your cunt pulse. You cursed yourself internally for loving him even when he's a sadistic asshole. Or, especially when. "Says the whore letting me fuck her in a broom closet between classes."
Mattheo grunted in effort, and you didn't even notice your teeth breaking the skin on your bottom lip until his grip tightened and he yanked the fabric of his briefs over his hips, his massive cock springing free. Staring at it--tumescent, twitching, the head gleaming with pre-cum--every muscle between your hips pulsed, body flooded with hot, heavy lust.
"Shit," you breathed, snapping yourself from your trance, wincing slightly as his grip tightened on your scalp. "Says the man who got bricked up from a simple fucking thigh touch-"
At your words, Mattheo snapped, as if finally wearied by your teasing. His substantial hand seized your jaw once again, exerting enough force to clench your teeth together. A resounding thud echoed as he pressed you against the door, his other hand transitioning from your hair to encircle your thigh, drawing it around his waist.
"Watch your fucking tongue," he spat, his dark eyes piercing into your flustered skin. With feigned thrusts, he rutted his hips against you, a warning in his tone. "Keep up with the attitude and I'll put that dirty mouth to a different use. And I'll make it fucking hurt."
"Mmmph," you huffed, squirming in his grip, his cock gliding along your slick folds, catching on your clit. You knew you weren't getting out of this now, and not a single shred of you wanted to. "Fine."
"That's it," he husked, altering his grip to pry your jaw open with two fingers. "Good fucking slut."
Leaning in, he spat inside your mouth, compelling your jaw to close afterward.
"Swallow it," he commanded, his tone a blend of authority and desire. "What do you say?"
Your gratitude was a muted grumble as you complied, your body throbbing with an undeniable, pent-up need. "Thank you, daddy."
Mattheo's eyes darkened at your obedience--not daring to wait a second longer before snatching you by the hips, hoisting you up and slamming you against the door. You groaned, wrapping your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck, wanting to touch as much of his body as physically possible.
Mattheo nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, the crescents of his nails nipping at the sensitive flesh of your thighs while he angled himself at your wet, wanting core. A moan left you, your own nails scraping over the fabric on his back as he braced himself before ramming deep into your cunt--and that moan became a loud, sharp cry.
"Fuck," he whispered into your ear, hips setting a savage pace from the start. "This is what you wanted, isn't it? This is what you were practically fucking begging me for."
Words evaded you as the thick haze of pleasure fogged your mind, your body liquefying against him. Incoherent babbling--blended with groans of bliss--were the best you could do.
"Little wanton slut, couldn't even--fuck--couldn't wait until after class-" the sound of his skin slapping against yours echoed loudly in the cramped closet, making you wonder if anyone outside could hear you. The thought lit a thrill up your spine, the mere prospect of exhibitionism, of getting caught. "You're so fucking wet for me, I bet you've been thinking about this all day--my insatiable little cockslut--fuck-"
"Fuck-yes-Matty!" You could barely choke out the words between the force of his thrusts. "You fuck me so good--make me feel so fucking good-"
"Do you know how much trouble we could get into if someone catches us?" he teased, his hands tightening around your thighs, baring bruises on the tender flesh. "But you like it rough, don't you? You like the idea of getting caught with your skirt up around your waist and my cock buried deep inside this tight little pussy."
His words were hot and filthy, coaxing you closer and closer to the edge with each passing moment. He knew just how to push your buttons, how to make you cum harder than you ever had before--each syllable making your wet walls squeeze him harder.
"M-Matty-fuck-" he was ruthless, now, his cock ramming into your cunt, splitting you wider with every savage thrust. "Oh, fuck-"
You were only halfway cognizant of what was leaving your mouth--tangled streams of pleasure and pain paired with cursing pleas for more, wanting him to dig you out from the inside, hollow you until empty--and despite the risk of getting caught, you didn't care. You'd never felt so full, so complete in your entire life. Each thrust delved deeper, each one more forceful than the last, the sheer gravity of them resonating with resounding bangs against the thin wooden door.
"Mmmfh, this is what you fucking deserve-" his teeth aggressively nipped at your earlobe, warm breath forcefully coaxing over your trembling flesh as he shifted, slamming into your cervix with unyielding intensity. A torrent of yelps and pleas streamed past your teeth, met with a dismissive indifference from Mattheo, his aggression fueling the relentless pursuit of his desire. "Teasing me like a little desperate slut--carrying on until I couldn't take it anymore..."
Mattheo's merciless assault on your g-spot continued, the pleasure tainted by a numbing ache as he slammed your cervix in unison. Your nails desperately sought purchase on his back, an attempt to reclaim some agency or at least remind him that you were more than a vessel for his primal desires. Yet, lost in the grip of his own instincts, he treated you as if you were merely a doll, a receptacle for his release, a result of the absolute animalistic power you'd drawn out of him.
"Now look what you made me do," he spat through clenched teeth, voice reverberating down your spine. His words dripped with venom, but there was a hint of satisfaction in the way he spoke. "Degrade and humiliate my girlfriend, fuck her in a dusty fucking broom closet-fuck-"
"Hurts." Your eyes rolled back, disappearing into your skull as a glistening sheen of perspiration covered your flesh. Soft, lingering moans continued to escape your lips as you muttered, "hurts so good."
"Yeah, yeah it fucking does," he continued, his cock driving you closer and closer to the edge of ecstasy. He was moaning, panting at his own words. "I know you want to cum on this fucking cock, baby, tell me how bad you want it."
He was going to send you over the edge, talking like that. "So bad! So, so bad, Matty! Needa' cum on your thick cock, please-"
"Mhm, that's fucking right..." his hand abandoned your thigh, gliding down the front of your body. "My good little slut, so obsessed with my cock."
Mattheo leaned back, creating just enough space to let the pads of his rough fingers tease your quivering bundle of nerves. Your response was a mixture of a squeal and a moan, your hips instinctively jerking against his, each rhythmic thrust pushing you relentlessly toward the brink of release. Under your warped cries of ecstasy, you caught his desperate, growling breath as he fucked harder into you, his own moans leaking out while his thrusting became more erratic.
"Gonna' cum for me, baby?" His voice was softer now, you knew he was getting close. You knew he was barely hanging on. "Tight little pussy gonna' cum for me?"
"Please, Matty," your voice was so hoarse it was unrecognizable, your desperation palpable. "Needa' cum so bad..."
"Yeah, I feel you squeezing me..." his tone was uneven, panting and growling. "Cum."
The coil of pressure inside of you burst, enveloping you in a hot, convulsing warmth--you were crying out, cumming hard around him, your walls clamping down on his dick, milking his thick girth as you pulsed and throbbed with pleasure. Set off by your eruption, Mattheo only lasted a few more thrusts before he moaned your name, cursing through clenched teeth as he came with long, stuttering thrusts, pumping his cum deep into your pussy.
Bringing both hands back to grasp your thighs, your boyfriend buried his face in the crook of your neck, his lungs still heaving for oxygen as he paused for a brief moment, collecting himself just enough before he began to slowly resume thrusting into you, revelling in the feeling of your slick, cum-filled walls gripping his cock like a perfectly-crafted vice. You were so sensitive, so fucking overstimulated you couldn't even begin to comprehend the sensations, clearly having underestimated the sheer force of his desire, entirely.
"You feel so goddamn good," he grunted, his lips pressed against your neck, making you squirm and whine against him. "I could fuck you for hours."
"Matty," you hiccuped, your gasp getting caught in your lungs as he thrust into your sticky cunt with a particularly harsh thrust. "Too much--it's too much Matty...so sensitive..."
Dismissing your protests, Mattheo began to increase the pace of his thrusts, this time more deliberately, as though taking his time to savour the feel of your tight pussy wrapped around him. A moan involuntarily slipped past your lips as he tightened his grip, holding you more firmly than ever. Trapped within his grasp, his chest pressed your back against the unyielding wood of the door, leaving you with no visible escape route.
"Oh, I think you can," he said, his voice low and dangerous, the strain in his tone evident by the sheer rasp. "You're going to take all of it, princess...this is what you fucking wanted, isn't it?"
As he spoke, he quickened his pace, driving deeper and deeper inside of you with each thrust. Your body bucked against him, overwhelmed by the intensity of pleasure that coursed through you. You threw your head back, lids sealing shut, trembling digits grasping at his thick chocolate curls, body once again submitting to his power.
"Gods!" Your eyes rolled straight back into your head, clenching around him when he started fucking into you faster. "Can't, Matty! Can't-"
"Can't what?" he growled, pulling his face from your neck to meet your gaze, his eyes black with impatient lust, stark against his reddened cheeks. "Can't take it? Can't handle me?"
Fire rose in your chest, and on instinct, you tightened your hold on the two fistfuls of his hair--tugging at his scalp, nails scraping his skin as his throbbing cock fucked you deep. "Matt-"
"C'mon baby, you're doing so good, taking me so perfect..." his voice was sickening, almost indefinitely sadistic, and you whimpered, squirming as a firestorm raged through you. "I'm going slow, princess...just relax, breathe...I know this greedy little pussy can handle it..."
Fog seeped into your skull--you wanted to think, to speak, to do anything other than suck air into your lungs and knead his soft, curly strands between your fingers, but you were gone--possessed, swallowed by your boyfriends primal power, which only seemed to increase as his plush, wet lips found yours.
A garbled groan escaped you, muffled by the fervent presence of your boyfriend's mouth. Your eyes rolled back for what had to have been the hundredth time, losing themselves in a sea of white as Mattheo's urgency intensified. His fingernails dug into your skin, a force threatening to shatter, his shoulders tensing with an obsessive, impulsive need. Hips smacking against your flesh, each thrust seemed fueled by an unwillingness to let you go. An unwillingness to pull out.
Your breasts bounced with the escalating rhythm, a physical manifestation of the desire that consumed him. Mattheo pressed his tongue past your teeth, navigating your molars with a hunger that mirrored his relentless need, the kiss growing hungrier and wetter by the second as he slipped his hand back between your bodies, fingers relentlessly twirling over your aching, sensitive clit.
"See baby, you're taking me so well," he spoke again, his tone low and appreciative, his pace quickening, his hungry eyes dipping over your whimpering expressions. "I knew you would--you're so fucking tight around me, make me feel so good..."
Despite his soft tone, his thrusts and fingers betrayed that, and you felt the shockwave quake through your body, flesh jiggling, a wail of pain forced from your lungs as he smacked your cervix. He was ruthless, now, his cock ramming into your cunt, splitting you wider with every savage thrust, dragging you back towards another orgasm faster than you could even comprehend it.
"Wanna' cum, Matty-" you wailed, voice cracking, nails surely breaking the skin on his neck as you held onto him for dear life. "I wanna' cum for you! Needa’ cum for you-please!"
"Yeah? You wanna cum for me again, huh?" He was pushing his words out between his shallow breath, teeth grit and brows furrowed in effort. "You think you deserve that? You think you deserve two orgasms after what you did?"
You groaned, breath missing you, vision hazed with pleasure as you met his eyes--wild and animalistic with lust. You couldn't fucking believe that he was still teasing you like this, how he even had the strength left to do it. You marveled at his almost inhumane lust, his primal fervour seemingly boundless.
"Please! I'm sorry!" You were practically screaming, not giving a fuck who was outside the door. "I'm sorry Matty! Please-"
His first response was to squeeze you tighter, fuck into you harder, turn your pleas into screams as he pulverized your cunt--but then, after thinking on it momentarily, he spoke.
"Cum for me fucking slut," he hissed, the words a brunt command. "Don't you ever forget who's in control here again."
"Yes--fuck--yes!"
Lightning tore through your nervous system, leaving a wake of sparks in its path, and you clenched around his dick, shaking and spasming as your second orgasm quaked through your body with a force that could have rendered you unconscious.
Mattheo growled, gripped you to his chest, pressing his lips back to yours as he continued slamming your pussy, panting and groaning while he fucked you through your high and straight into his own--a low, feral roar escaping him, his cum spilling deep into your cunt for the second time.
Your head was ringing too loud to hear him reach climax, to your honest dismay--you only felt it. Felt the violent fucking into your cervix, felt the pitching, stuttering of his hips, felt him silence himself in your neck while he poured jets of cum into your cunt, felt him throbbing at the hilt as he stopped, his hand falling away from your dripping, aching cunt.
When you'd returned to reality, panting for breath, he'd already slipped out of you, aiding you in steadying yourself on the ground. Meeting your eyes, he reached down, gathering the cum seeping from your cunt and collecting it on his fingers. Examining your face, he smirked, free hand gripping your jaw as he forcefully popped the fingers into your mouth.
Groaning, you tried to spit it out--your mouth already drier than the desert, his salty cum only increasing your thirst--but he was persistent, reaching the back of your throat and holding there until you'd started to suck his fingers clean. He watched you, the lust dying in his eyes, replaced with a sated adoration--and he seemed to catch himself, smirking and swirling his fingers along your tongue.
When you'd finished, you whimpered, meeting his gaze with tired eyes, and he pulled himself free from your mouth, leaning down to capture your lips with his as he started piecing himself back together.
“Love you, Matty,” you muttered as he pulled away, watching him run a hand through his sweaty hair, unsticking his curls from his damp forehead. “S’much.”
“Love you too, baby,” he tutted, briskly relatching up his belt before throwing an arm around your waist to support your jelly legs. “Let’s skip charms and head back to my dorm. We’ll run you a bath.”
#harry potter#mattheoriddle#mattheo riddle smut#mattheosmut#mattheoxreader#mattheo x you#mattheo x y/n#mattheo smut#mattheo riddle#mattheo#mattriddlesmut#draco malfoy smut#tom riddle smut#tom riddle#tomriddle smut#theodorenottsmut#theoriddlesmut#theodore smut#theodore nott smut#theodore nott x reader#theodorenott#theodore nott#tomriddlesmut#tom riddle x reader#theo nott smut#draco smut#dracomalfoy#blaisezabini#lorenzo berkshire smut#lorenzo berkshire
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Theodore Nott. | be my first.
PAIRING: Theodore Nott x Reader
PROMPT: “PLEASE please do a Theodore nott x fem!reader virgin!!”
WORD COUNT: 5.5k.
TAGS: 18+, Mentions of Slight Violence, Depictions of Blood, SMUT, Fingering, Bestfriends to Lovers Trope (my personal fav), Virgin!Reader, Loss of Virginity, Slow Sex, Soft!Theo, Multiple Orgasm, Dirty Talk.
"I don't know, Pans, wouldn't that be weird?"
Pansy's laughter echoed in a melodious giggle, the rhythm of her steps creating a soft shuffle across the expanse of your shared dorm. With effortless grace, she descended onto your bed, settling in with a languid poise. Laying on her side, her head found a comfortable perch on her bent arm.
"Why would it be weird?" Her grin, radiant and infectious, painted a mischievous allure across her features. "He's your lifelong best friend. I'm pretty sure he's in love with you-"
"Absolutely not," you interjected, employing a dramatic flourish with your hands for emphasis. "He is not."
Pansy cast a sidelong glance your way. "He so is."
"He's not!" Your grin persisted as you fired back, "if he was, he wouldn't be regaling me with tales of the girls he's shagging every bloody weekend."
Pansy, after a moment of silent contemplation, arched an eyebrow. "Perhaps he's just doing that to make you jealous. Ever think of that?"
You released a sigh, your body surrendering to the bed's embrace as you slumped backwards. The gentle thud of your head meeting the pillows echoed the weight of your contemplations, and memories from the past few weeks intruded your mind--acknowledging the nuanced shifts in Theodore's behaviour, particularly since that one unforgettable common room party.
As the realization took root, you abruptly sat up, the intensity of the revelation reflected in your eyes as they locked onto Pansy's gaze. "Pans...he's been acting distinctly different lately."
Pansy blinked, a glint of amusement dancing in her eyes. "You're just noticing?"
"No, I mean," your thoughts scattered like confetti, your heart pulsating with the weight of the revelation. You realized you hadn't told her. "Ever since that party, the one last Friday in the common room...where we, um...we kissed."
Pansy's eyes widened in sheer disbelief, her jaw dropping in a dramatic display of shock. With a swift, purposeful motion, she sat up, aligning her gaze with yours, the unfiltered surprise etched vividly across her face.
"What the hell!" Her exclamation rang with feigned outrage. "I can't believe you didn't tell me!"
Your expression contorted into a frown as you extended a gentle hand, resting it on Pansy's shoulder. "I'm sorry...we both agreed it was a stupid mistake, and we promised not to tell anyone. We knew you guys would relentlessly hound us about it...I just...I just couldn't risk it..."
Pansy took a measured moment to process your words, her eyes narrowing slightly. She ran a hand through her raven-black hair, the gears turning behind her eyes, thoughts churning with an amused yet contemplative air as she processed your confession.
With an entertained huff, she locked eyes with you. "I can't believe that little weasel kept his mouth shut for all that time. Guess he really can keep a secret."
An assertive snort escaped you, relief from her reaction igniting your features. "Probably just doesn't want me to hate him, considering we're bound to cross paths at every family gathering. Our families are so tightly knit..."
Pansy reclined with a subtle smirk gracing her lips, mischief dancing in her dark eyes. Her fingers traced an intricate, invisible pattern on your emerald green bedspread, their movements betraying a simmering excitement.
Meeting your gaze with unwavering confidence, she responded, "yet another advantage for you, and another compelling reason to go for it."
You shifted, your posture a nuanced blend of contemplation and uncertainty. Your fingers delicately toyed with the hem of your shirt, a nervous energy manifesting in the subtle dance of fabric against your skin.
In the pregnant pause that followed, you countered, "I just...I just can't envision a scenario where asking my best friend to take my virginity works out in my favour."
"I can't see a world where it doesn't," Pansy replied with a softness that hinted at the weight of her conviction. Sitting up again, she met your eyeline, the motion accompanied by a deliberate brush of loose strands of hair behind her ear.
Her gaze held a depth of understanding as she continued, "You guys clearly love each other, given you've known each other forever. He's always Mr. Funny Guy with you, perpetually super flirty and protective...I genuinely believe he'd be happy to oblige."
Absorbing Pansy's counsel with a thoughtful nod, you murmured a grateful, "I'll think about it."
Rising in unison, the two of you traversed to your respective wardrobes, swapping the gravity of the previous discourse for the ease of more casual attire. Satisfied with your choices, you exited the dorm, descending toward the common room. The soft glow of dimmed sconces on stone walls cast an intimate ambiance, while a low hum of hushed conversations and sporadic laughter created a comforting background symphony.
As you stepped into the common room, an immediate sense of unease gripped you. Your attention honed in on the far corner, where a palpable commotion unfolded. Brows furrowing with concern, your gaze fixated on a group of clustered bodies--Mattheo Riddle, Lorenzo Berkshire, Blaise Zabini, and Theodore Nott all converged around someone.
Instinctively, you made your way over, Pansy following closely behind. As you approached the charged scene, you reached out, placing a steadying hand on Mattheo's arm in an attempt to capture his attention. The air buzzed with tension as you sought to understand the cause of the brewing conflict.
"Matt, what's happening?" you inquired, peering past him to catch sight of a bloodied Malfoy standing at the center of the circle. "Did you do this?"
"No, it was Nott," he retorted, his dark eyes meeting yours as he ran a hand through his dishelved curly hair. "They had a little disagreement--nothing too crazy."
Your gaze swept around the circle, capturing the aftermath of the disagreement. Malfoy wiped the blood from his chin on the back of his hand, keeping his gaze glued to the floor. Meeting everyone's eyes, your search finally settled on Theo, his nose bleeding and a minor cut marring his chin.
A heavy sigh escaped you, the weariness evident in your tone. "Do your petty disagreements always have to escalate into a damn bloodbath?"
Mattheo nonchalantly shrugged, a smirk playing on his lips. "When they involve Nott...pretty much, yeah."
With an exasperated scoff, you distanced yourself from him, striding purposefully toward Theo. The cerulean depth of his eyes locked onto yours as you approached, a battered hand running through his tousled hair as he shook his head in a frustrated scowl.
"What happened?" you inquired, genuine concern lacing your voice. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," Theo's jaw clenched, his stormy gaze shifting from your face to fixate on something over your shoulder. "Sorry prat had it coming."
His eyes locked onto Draco, who was now being tended to by Pansy, the lingering fury evident in the tight set of his jaw and the fire in his gaze. Theo was not merely angry; he was simmering with a profound frustration that permeated the air around him. Sensing his reluctance to share details, you delicately grasped his arm, lowering your voice into a soothing whisper.
"Come on, Theo," you murmured, your tone gentle and calming. "Let's get you cleaned up, alright?"
With a reluctant nod, he cast one last glance over your shoulder before allowing you to guide him out of the common room and back down the dormitory hall. Upon reaching his dorm, he unlocked the door with a brief motion, and you stepped in first.
Navigating the familiar space, you headed straight to his bathroom, grabbing a wet cloth and some ointment. As he took a seat on his bed, the routine unfolded seamlessly--a ritual born out of many similar occasions. Cleaning up your best friend was a well-practiced chore, a testament to his quick temper and penchant for confrontation. It was second nature to you, an unspoken agreement that you'd always be there for him in these moments.
Emerging from the bathroom, you noticed Theo had already cast a silencing and muffling spell over the room. A waft of smoke hung in the air as he lit up a cigarette, his darkened gaze keenly tracking your every movement as you approached.
You came to a halt in front of him, and he widened his stance, creating a space for you to nestle between his legs. Seated on his bed while you stood, the two of you aligned perfectly at eye level. A surge pulsed through you as you observed his plush lips sealing around the cigarette, his long fingers delicately holding it to his mouth. After a quick ashing on his nightstand, he granted you the space to tend to him.
Raising the cloth to his chin, you softly dabbed over the cut, your gaze fixed on the subtle flutter of his long lashes--like delicate wings of a butterfly. A scowl etched his features, and your hands trembled inexplicably, watching his brows furrow, his teeth chewing on his bottom lip. His own hands rested on his knees on either side of your hips, fingers twitching from the sting of your movements.
In a bid to alleviate some of his discomfort, your voice echoed as a delicate murmur. "Do you remember the first time I did this?"
"How could I forget?" He met your gaze, his stormy eyes flickering as his lips teased a subtle smirk. "My personal saviour, always cleaning up my messes."
Pleased with the condition of the cut, you glided the cloth along the sharp ridge of his jawline, meticulous in collecting every trace of dried blood. Progressing to his nose, you repeated the careful process--his eyes remained fixed on your face, observing each subtle movement as you concentrated on restoring his appearance, gently swiping over his lips last.
Grinning at his words, you locked eyes with him. "You're right...I've been quite the skilled nurse, haven't I?"
He chuckled, a deep sound resonating through his chest, the corner of his mouth lifting into a half-smile. "The best damn nurse I've ever had."
You laughed, a warmth dancing across your skin as you pulled the cloth from his face.
"Now that's a compliment, considering you've been in the hospital wing a lot of damn times," you quipped, playfully raising an eyebrow. "I should be getting compensation for my efforts."
"Compensation?" He grinned, the playful glint in his blue eyes unmistakable. "How about I owe you a pack of cigarettes and a promise to keep the brawls to a minimum?"
Smirking, you couldn't hide the amusement dancing in your eyes. "Please, you and I both know your promises mean very little, Nott." As you stepped back, you added, "but I'll take the cigarettes."
Before you could get very far, Theo's large hand wrapped firmly around your wrist, halting your movements as well as the breath in your lungs. Your gaze riveted to the hand, the touch sending a shiver through your skin, before slowly moving back up to meet Theo's eyes. Within their depths churned something profound, a silent intensity that stopped your heart in your chest.
"You want to know why I fought him?" he said, his voice so deep it was almost imperceptible. "Malfoy."
Your brows furrowed in confusion as you waited for him to elaborate. "Sure."
Theo's grip tightened on your wrist, his jaw tensing as his eyes drilled into yours. "He said that if he wasn't with Pansy, he'd have gotten with you a long time ago," he confessed, the words carrying a mix of frustration and vulnerability. "He claimed your hard-to-get facade is all an act...that you're really a little slut..."
Your eyes widened at Theo's revelation, a mixture of surprise and disbelief sweeping across your features. Your pulse quickened, feeling the intensity of his gaze and the gravity of the situation.
"He said that?" you muttered, the weight of Malfoy's words sinking in. Theo's grip on your wrist loosened, and a subtle vulnerability flickered in his eyes as his hand slid lower, fingers finding yours.
"I don't care what he thinks, but hearing him talk about you like that...I couldn't let it slide," he admitted, his voice softer now, revealing the protective undertone that fueled his actions. "He doesn't know..."
"...that I'm a virgin," you said, finishing his sentence with a hushed admission.
Theo's expression softened as he nodded, and his thumb gently traced circles on the back of your hand.
"I don't want anyone disrespecting you like that, especially not him," he said, a mixture of concern and sincerity in his gaze. "You're a fucking angel, he doesn't deserve to even think about you."
Your heart pounded in your chest, warmth spreading through you at his words. Your gaze locked in with his, his eyes momentarily dropping to your lips, yours doing the same. The air between you thickened, charged with unspoken emotions as Theo’s declaration lingered. His protective stance and words resonated deeply, and you couldn’t help but feel the gravity of his sentiments.
Silent acknowledgment settled within you, a quiet admission that the dynamics between you and Theo had shifted. The boy who had once been your childhood best friend was now a source of desire and an unexpected depth of affection. Over the years, his presence had woven into the fabric of your heart, evolving into a sentiment that transcended mere friendship.
"Thank you, Theo..." you murmured, involuntarily leaning closer. "Thank you for-"
Before you could finish the sentence, Theo's hands shifted with intent, cradling the sides of your face as he drew your lips to his. The hunger in his mouth was palpable, a dance of devotion and purpose, his tongue delving past your teeth without a moment's hesitation.
Your lids fluttered shut, your brain caught off guard, taking a seemingly eternal five seconds to gather itself from the molten state it found itself in, the realization dawning that you weren't merely passively enjoying this kiss--you were actively engaging, meeting his fervour with equal intensity.
Your hands instinctively sought his messy hazelnut strands, fingers threading through them as you pressed against him, the world beyond the kiss momentarily forgotten in the heated exchange. As the kiss progressed, your mind struggled to fathom the reality of locking lips with your best friend--a completely sober, unrestrained exchange with no intentions of stopping.
And then, before you could process it, large hands enveloped your lower thighs, drawing you closer as Theo reclined onto his plush green duvet, the soft fabric embracing his back with a gentle touch. Your hands landed involuntarily with a deliberate force on his chest, seeking stability as you shifted to straddle his waist.
The kiss intensified, one of his hands securing the back of your head, while the other boldly explored the curve of your hip, his pelvis pressing against yours, his erection evident even between your layers of clothing.
A low, involuntary moan escaped your lips as his undeniable hardness pressed against you, a sensation that sent shivers down your spine. It kindled a fervent desire within you, a flame only he could stoke. Your hands transitioned from his chest and back into the tousled richness of his hair, fingers entwining in the silky strands. Breaking the kiss momentarily, you caught your breath, panting softly as you gazed down at him through eyes clouded with lust.
Theo's lips curled into a knowing smirk, evident satisfaction gleaming in his eyes as he surveyed the effect he had on you. His hands traversed the landscape of your back, drawing you back down to him. Your bodies melded together, the heat rising between you palpable. You instinctively moved your hips against his crotch, craving more of the intoxicating friction that left your senses spinning, and a low groan escaped him, his hands guiding your hips back and forth.
"What are we doing..." Theo whispered, his voice a breathy murmur, his head falling back, and his eyes squeezing shut in a moment of quiet contemplation. "I told myself I wouldn't do this with you again."
Your heart hammered in your throat, your fingers trembling as his hands grazed the curve of your ass. In a mere pant, you breathed, "do what?"
His fingers traced a slow path to the back of your head, gently guiding your lips back to his.
The heat between you intensified as he whispered, "this," against your mouth, his soft breath sparking heat in your veins.
A low, desperate sound escaped your throat, a mixture of a mewl and a moan, as the fire in your core reached an almost unbearable intensity. Theo groaned in response, his grip on your hips tightening, and with a swift motion, he flipped the two of you around, placing you on your back beneath him. His hips pressed into yours with a force that felt like an attempt to fuse you with his mattress, his hands finding purchase on either side of your head, trapping you beneath him.
"Theo," you murmured against his lips, your hands tugging on his hair in a desperate attempt to part his mouth from yours, yearning for a breath of air. "Theo...”
Refusing to break the kiss, Theo groaned into your mouth, his hand cradling the side of your head, his thumb brushing over your cheek with a feather-light touch. He rocked his hips against you, both teetering on the brink of losing yourselves entirely. The restrained passion and tension accumulated from years of friendship were on the verge of breaking free.
Finally, in a gasp of air, Theo pulled back, both of your chests heaving, your lungs reaching for oxygen in desperation. His blue eyes dipped over your face, lingering for a moment before trailing lower. With a regretful realization, he shifted back onto his knees, putting a disappointing amount of space between your bodies, as if just coming to terms with the consequences of his actions.
"Fuck," he murmured, running an unsteady hand through his hair. "I...I'm sorry-"
"Theo...I want you," you cut him off, the desperation evident in your voice as you expressed your desire for him. "Please..."
Theo's eyes flickered, and he blinked, momentarily taken aback. "You..."
"Yes," you whispered, a subtle flush colouring your cheeks as you pushed aside any embarrassment. "I want you to be my first, Theo."
Theo leaned back down, his hand gently cupping your chin as he directed your eyes to meet his intense gaze, his fingers digging into your skin only slightly.
"Are you fucking serious?" he questioned, a hint of disbelief in his voice. "Don't play with me, principessa..."
"Why on earth would I joke about something like that?" you replied, a teasing smirk playing on your lips. "Of course, I'm serious."
Theo's countenance softened with a tender gaze as he scrutinized your face, searching for any traces of hesitation or uncertainty. Discovering none, he leaned in, planting a delicate kiss against your lips. His hand gracefully transitioned from your chin, weaving into your hair with a gentle, reassuring touch.
"You don't know how fucking long I've wanted you," he whispered against your mouth, his eyes reflecting the intensity of his desire. "But I don't want to fucking hurt you...I don't know if I'll be able to control myself..."
Your fingers gently traced the contours of his face as you held his gaze. "Theo, we've known each other for so long, there's no one I trust more than you...I know you'll be gentle with me..."
Theo's gaze softened further at your words, and he leaned in for another kiss. His hand embarked on a slow journey from the strands of your hair, delicately tracing the curves of your body until it found the waistband of your sweats, teasingly playing with it.
"Gonna' need to ease you into it, principessa," he whispered against your lips, his warm breath mingling with yours. "Let me know if it's too much, alright?"
As you nodded, your hands migrated from his shoulders to entwine in his hair. His hand daringly slipped beneath the cotton fabric, and a gasp involuntarily escaped your lips as he skillfully explored the warmth between your thighs with his fingers. Simultaneously, his lips traced a tantalizing path down past your jawline, each touch sending shivers down your spine.
"Mm, you're already so fucking wet for me..." he nipped your neck and you squealed, fingers gripping fistfuls of his hair. "Gonna' fill you up so good...stretch you out just for me..."
Pleasure rippled through your thighs, your heartbeat thumping in your core. "Theo..."
"Mhmm," he breathed as he trailed lower, mouth grazing over your collarbone, long fingers teasing over your clit, coating himself in your slick. "Fuck, I've wanted to hear you moan my name like that for years...you've completely fucking tortured me, bella..."
You gasped as he teased your clit again, fervent fingers digging into his scalp. "You-you never made a move-"
Theo groaned against your skin, his free hand sliding up to pull your shirt along your stomach, and then skillfully tugging on your bra, exposing your bare chest to his hungry gaze. His lips parted, and a deep lust filled his eyes as he immediately cupped one breast in his palm, skillfully flicking a stiffening nipple between his fingers.
"Fuck me," he muttered before pulling one of your nipples into his mouth, skillfully twirling his tongue around the bud. "I didn't want to complicate our friendship, bella mia...I didn't want to risk losing you..."
Theo's mouth moved to your other nipple, and he deftly took it between his lips, suckling on it before tracing circles around it with his tongue. You moaned, feeling your body respond to his touch, your hips jerking involuntarily as he pushed a finger inside of you, causing you to cry out in pleasure. His thumb resumed its motions on your clit, coaxing sounds of desire from deep within you.
Heat scorched your blood. "F-fuck, Theo..."
"Is this okay?" he muttered, pulling back slightly to examine your face. "You're so fucking tight."
You nodded, incapable of forming a coherent thought as your body's reaction was immediate, every fiber of your being inundated by intense, mind-numbing pleasure. Theo groaned as he brought his lips back to your nipple, skillfully pulling it into his mouth. Your entire body quivered beneath him, unable to comprehend how rapidly your impending orgasm was overwhelming you.
"Oh, Gods, Theo..." you gasped, your fingers tightening their hold in his hair like you were trying to pry it from his scalp. "Oh, fuck-"
Theo heightened his rhythm, skillfully adding another finger inside you as he fervently zeroed in on your sensitive nub with vigorous strokes. Your vocabulary dissolved into a symphony of flailing wails and moans, your eyes rolling back in sheer ecstasy as he sensually flicked his tongue over one nipple before seamlessly transitioning to the other.
"That's right, darling..." he cooed against your chest, his voice torn and barely restrained, a low rasp that sent a thrill up your spine. "Let go for me...I've got you..."
His words alone ignited a blaze of warmth across your skin, and as much as you desired to resist, to not succumb so swiftly, it was inevitable and overwhelming, your orgasm slamming into you like a powerful shot to the gut.
"Shit-Theo!" Your jaw fell slack, eyes rolling back. "I'm-i'm-"
Your vision whitened as you broke, every nerve in your body pulsating with ecstasy. It was a wave crashing over you, leaving you breathless and trembling in its wake. Theo's movements never faltered, his touch relentless, drawing out every ounce of pleasure from your shuddering form.
"That's it--fuck--so perfect..." he breathed, rubbing you through the remnants of your aftershocks. "Such a good fucking girl...did that feel good?"
You nodded, still gasping for breath as you tried to compose yourself. "Yes," you said, feeling a flush of embarrassment on your cheeks. "It felt amazing."
"Yeah?" Theo whispered, his hand withdrawing as he shifted to press his lips softly against yours. "You like cumming for your best friend, huh? Enjoy making a mess all over my fingers?"
You released a throaty groan against his demanding mouth as his skilled hands effortlessly peeled down your sweatpants and panties, revealing the goosebumped flush of your skin. His shirt swiftly joined the discarded clothes, exposing the sculpted lines of his torso. Unrelenting, his eyes remained fixed on yours as he leaned back to undo his belt with a controlled urgency.
Once successful, he leaned back over you and a large hand cupped your jaw, his voice a low, commanding murmur.
"I didn't hear an answer," he stated, the timbre of his words sending shivers down your spine. "Perhaps I need to make you cum again?"
You huffed, a subtle squirm beneath him accentuating the anticipation, his free hand teasing the tender skin of your inner thigh. "Theodore..."
"Would you like that?" he muttered, his lips drawing nearer, the grip on your jaw tightening. "You want me to make you cum all over my bedsheets again, hm?"
His fingers caressed over your heat, teasing your folds, and you arched against his touch, drawing a groan from deep in his chest. You could sense he was attempting to buy himself time, to talk himself down from his excitement. His restraint hung by a thread, self-control wavered under the sight of you withering beneath him.
Swallowing hard, your throat felt drier than the desert as you met his gaze with pleading eyes. "Please, Theo," you whimpered, "stop teasing."
"Fuck--so eager for me, yeah?" he purred, releasing your jaw to slide his boxers down his thighs, pulling free his thick, long cock. "Let's see if we can sate this pretty little pussy."
Your breath fled from your lungs, your jaw practically dropping to the floor. He was massive, even in his own big hand, even as he pumped himself, sliding his fist back and forth over his length as his eyes burned wounds into the flesh of your tits. You whined, your core clenching and screaming with need, drool threatening to pour down the sides of your lips as your desperate eyes shifted between his eyes and his dick.
"Fucking hell, Theo..." your brain struggled to form coherent thoughts, and those words were the only ones that managed to slip past your lips. "You never mentioned...so massive..."
He huffed, and you knew he was watching you--his irises igniting in flames, a tiny smirk teasing his lips as you watched him stroke himself faster, harder.
"I didn't want to intimidate you before you got to experience how good it can be," he murmured, his voice low and laced with satisfaction. "Besides, I'm well aware of your disdain for men with oversized egos."
Your breath caught in your throat as your brain struggled to process the revelation. Losing your virginity to your lifelong best friend, who knew you better than you knew yourself, and who had purposely kept the extent of his endowment a secret, fearing it might scare you off. The boundary between reality and dream blurred, leaving you in a surreal haze of disbelief.
"Just shut up and show me," you finally managed to whisper, your desire overcoming any reservations. "Show me how good it can be."
"Easy, principessa, don't get greedy now," he murmured, his hands firmly grasping your thighs to pull you closer. "You're not ready for everything I have to offer just yet."
Theo leaned back over you, trailing hot open-mouthed kisses down the side of your neck and over your collarbone--forearm framing your face, other hand gripping his cock, angling the glistening tip toward your throbbing entrance, teasing you briefly with a few false thrusts, slicking his length in your wetness.
"Are you ready?" he murmured, his lips brushing against your earlobe. "To feel me inside of you, filling you up?"
Your voice barely more than a breath, you nodded in response, averting your gaze to the ceiling. "Please."
Theo huffed, pulling his face from your neck, long fingers directing your gaze to meet his eyes.
"Look at me, bella..." he looped an arm under your neck, long fingers holding you in place. "I want you to look into my eyes as you feel yourself stretching out for me..."
Your lips parted in awe, speechless and utterly intoxicated. Doing as he said, you held his gaze, feeling yourself slowly getting lost in the ocean waves of his eyes. Theo groaned, his own breath shallow as he pressed the head of his dick into you, pushing you apart, and you whimpered, clenching before he even entered you. You were quaking--and he hissed through his teeth before he'd fully sank into you, letting loose a low, deep groan as your wet cunt swallowed his cock.
"Shh," he purred, glimpsing your lips. "Just a little bit more..."
Pleasure and pain erupted through your bloodstream as he stretched you wide, a sharp cry leaving your throat as he pushed deeper and deeper, stroking into your heat with the pace of a snail, inch by agonizing inch--pausing once he'd sunk in to the base. You could feel his cock pulsing inside of you, and you were breathless, unable to fathom how big he was, how full he made you feel.
"Fucking hell, are you okay?" he muttered almost under his breath, his voice cracking with concern as he looked into your eyes, his blue gaze searching for any sign of distress. When you merely nodded, the desperation in his expressions intensified. "Please, talk to me...keep me grounded..."
"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," you mumbled, still trying to catch your breath. "And what do you mean, 'keep you grounded'?"
Theo sighed heavily, emitting a low groan, his breath catching in his lungs as he withdrew slightly before smoothly gliding back into you. You whimpered, still holding his gaze, lips parted in unbelievable bliss. His hand cradled your head, staring at you with gleaming eyes as he found his rhythm, keeping every stroke deep and careful and full.
"I-I, fuck," he grunted through gritted teeth as he stared down at you. "You're so tight, so fucking wet...I can barely control myself..."
He lowered himself, ensnaring your lips in a profound, fervent kiss while maintaining a deliberate pace within you. Each rhythmic thrust unleashed renewed waves of ecstasy, prompting unrestrained moans from your chest and sending you writhing beneath him.
"You feel so good," he whispered as one of his hands roamed over your body, exploring every inch as he slowly began to increase the tempo of his thrusts. "I can't believe how fucking tight you are. You're going to make me cum so fucking hard, my pretty little virgin."
Your nails clawed at his back, your walls squeezing his thick length with every thrust. "Theo-harder, please..."
"Yeah? You want more, pretty girl?" he whispered, warm breath enveloping your ear. "Such a needy little pussy..."
You gasped, nodding as his lips attacked your neck. "Please, please-"
"Anything for you," he responded, his voice torn, each syllable saturated with longing. "Filthy little--fuck,"
He surged into heightened motion, the force of his hips colliding with yours intensifying upon your command. A sharp cry escaped you when he skillfully found that responsive spot within you, immediately unleashing a cascade of pleasure that surged through your body like electric currents. The intensity reached a near-overwhelming point, a delicate dance between ecstasy and a hint of exquisite pain, causing unbridled moans to spill from your lips uncontrollably.
"Mm," he grunted, a near growl in your ear. "Pretty pussy taking me so well,"
His paced increased again, slamming into your cervix with every thrust. His fingers resumed their work on your clit, yanking you toward your climax, your body being whiplashed with pleasure. You bit down on his shoulder, desperate to muffle your screams as your pussy squeezed him harder, yanked to the edge by the stretch of his cock slamming into you, his fingers battering your nub.
"Theo--w-wait," your words stumbled amidst waves of pleasure, your body convulsing beneath his unyielding onslaught. "Theo, please-I can't, I-it's too much...”
"Come on baby, I know you're close," his voice, raspy and unbridled, revealed the shattering of his self-control. He relentlessly pounded into you, beads of sweat adhering his hair to a glistening forehead. "I felt you squeezing me--fuck--you can take it..."
You gasped for breath, a desperate symphony echoing your lungs' protest as your teeth found refuge in his skin. Fingers, possessed by an almost primal force, clawed into his back, leaving an indelible mark. Theo's movements, unyielding and masterful, propelled you inexorably towards the precipice of climax, each sensation more vivid than the last.
"Theo-" you practically screamed, your body buzzing in anticipation. "I'm gonna' cum, Theo-fuck-"
"Let me hear you," he said, voice shredded raw. "I want to hear you scream for me...I want to hear you moaning my name as this tight little cunt breaks for me..."
"Oh, fuck.." you moaned, eyes squeezing shut. "Fuck, Theo...oh Gods, fuck..."
You shattered, euphoria tearing through you as your walls pulsed and milked his cock. Your eyes rolled back, vision going blank as squeals and screeches left your lips in nothing more than mumbling nonsense.
Theo groaned, bliss numbing your skin, limbs shaking and trembling as he pulled you through wave after wave of pleasure, gripping you tighter until he too exploded, breath sputtering as he poured himself into you, hips bucking until the only sensation left was sweaty, heaving, post-orgasmic rapture.
In the aftermath, an extended silence enveloped the room--long after the cadence of your breaths normalized, long after the faculties of your minds fully reassembled. Theo finally stirred, rolling off you to settle on the mattress, where he promptly drew you into the sanctuary of his embrace.
"Can we acknowledge our feelings already?" Theo teased, fingers delicately brushing loose strands of hair behind your ear. “You know I’ll fight you if we go back to just being friends after all of that.”
You huffed, on the precipice of unrestrained laughter. "Only if you go first."
As you shifted to lock eyes with him, a smirk adorned his face, that mischievous grin unfurling across his impeccably plush lips. "Fine…I'm fucking in love with you."
Your own smirk surfaced, a surge of warmth coursing through you as you leaned in, brushing your lips against his. "I'm in love with you too, you dork."
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MATTHEO RIDDLE- Beg For Me
Chapter Twenty Five-Info: You and Mattheo have been butting heads for months, since you were assigned as his tutor, and one day during a session full of tense bickering, he has enough.
Tags: 18+, Dirty Talk, Threats of Violence, Jealousy, Toxic Behaviours, Possessive Behaviours, Mentions of GunPoint (enchanted gun but still), Italian, Flirty!Theodore!Nott, Angst, Sexual Tension.
FIND THE REST OF THE CHAPTERS HERE.
"I don't know about this, Em..."
Giggles danced through the air, originating from your blonde companion, currently immersed in a thorough investigation of your shared closet. Her voice, laced with amusement, murmured something indecipherable, the words muffled by the solidity of the wooden door. A long sigh escaped your lips, a potent release of pure exasperation.
"This is crazy," you muttered to yourself. "Nott is going to need an entire bloody medical team when he catches sight of me..."
The enchanting red dress, a gem sourced from a privy boutique in Hogsmeade under Mattheo's explicit direction, molded itself to every contour as you confronted your reflection in the mirror. As your eyes traversed the fabric's journey, or rather, the lack thereof--there was no escaping the undeniable truth; the dress was exquisitely tight, sparing no nuance of your silhouette to the imagination.
"Doubt he'll even get the chance..." Emily replied, finally reemerging from the closet, "lover boy will likely claim his head the moment he fixes his gaze on you for too long."
Emily's cheeky response added a layer of playful anticipation to the charged atmosphere, earning an exaggerated eye roll from you in response as you fought hard to suppress your smirk.
When you'd embarked on the hunt for the ideal dress, you had brought Emily along for her valuable opinion. As your gaze fell upon this specific piece, uncertainty gripped you, convinced it might be a touch excessive. Yet, Emily staunchly opposed that notion. Her unwavering belief in its perfection became a contagion, subjecting you to prolonged minutes of relentless persuasion. Gradually, her infectious enthusiasm chipped away at your resistance until, inevitably, you succumbed--reluctantly handing over Mattheo's gifted galleons.
"And do I truly wish to burden my conscience with the death of the schools most popular Italian playboy? And not to mention Riddle's certain Azkaban sentence...all but a couple months from graduation?" you deadpanned, fingers instinctively rising to massage your temples in an attempt to alleviate the burgeoning headache. "Maybe I should just borrow something from your-"
"Absolutely not," Emily interjected, her voice cutting through your proposal with firm decisiveness. She approached you, a sparkle in her eyes, and added, "you look perfect. Trust me on this."
Meeting your eyes in the mirror, Emily's irises shimmered with a warm reassurance. She adjusted her flowy emerald green dress, a garment she had acquired at Tom's request--they were going to the masquerade together, though the status of their relationship still remained uncertain.
Emily, ever the advocate of going with the flow, a concept apparently foreign to Tom, said she wasn't in any rush to make things official, understanding that perhaps it would look a tad bit odd for him to start dating her after he'd just paraded you around to all of his friends, merely less than a few weeks go.
And as a result of this, you and Emily had a long, in depth heart-to-heart conversation where you made sure to unravel any lingering issues--the liberating honesty and the comfort of having someone in your corner again felt tangible. Although initially perturbed by the extended secrecy, Emily eventually grasped the rationale behind your discretion, acknowledging the protective measures taken for yourself and your desired career.
The depth of your longstanding friendship played a pivotal role in fostering this understanding, and you'd never been more thankful to have such a wonderful, supportive friend in your life.
"What do you think Michael will do when he spots you wearing traitor colours?" you teased, an impish grin playing on your lips as you watched Emily fix her long blonde hair, adjusting herself in the reflection.
"I reckon he'll be rather unamused," she snorted, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. "But he'll be in for a real surprise when he sees you cozying up with Theodore Nott, the traitor extraordinaire."
"Cozying up with Theodore?" you retorted with a smirk, feigning innocence. "Absolutely not, I just recently cleared my conscience, I intend on keeping it that way."
"I wouldn't underestimate the Italian playboy; word on the street is he can be quite insistent..." Emily spun back around to face you, a cheeky smile playing on her lips. "My suggestion is that you tell him about Mattheo before he unwittingly finds himself sharing a bed with Berkshire."
Your expression sank, and a twist formed in your stomach. "Oh, gods, Emily, I need to change," you exclaimed, spinning around and making a beeline for the closet. "Surely there's a garbage bag or your grandmas old moo-moo hidden in here that I could wear instead, right?"
Emily's sudden snort echoed through the room, reverberating far louder than you'd expected. With swift precision, she wielded her wand, slamming the closet door shut before you could reach it.
"Come on, it's going to be fun," she teased, a mischievous sparkle in her eyes. "Give those cocky Slytherin boys an experience they've never had before. Making them squirm is a rare opportunity--after all, they're not used to being denied anything."
You hesitated, a reluctant smile crawling across your face at her words as you silently considered the prospect. Mattheo had always made it abundantly clear that girls were typically within arm's reach for him, and he could have anyone he desired. The idea of driving him to the brink tonight, knowing he couldn't do a thing about it after explicitly instructing Theodore to ask you, ignited a rebellious spark within you.
"Alright, but this better not turn into a disaster," you responded, your internal thoughts dancing between uncertainty and a subtle thrill. "If the mafia comes after me because I smacked their most prized possession, I'm blaming you."
"You look fucking hot. Own it," she encouraged, a playful smile dancing on her lips. Turning her attention to the door, a sudden realization struck her. "I've got to run. Promised Michael I'd help him with his bloody tie--but don't forget to check the mail. Something arrived for you earlier."
With a swift goodbye, she whisked away, grabbing her matching emerald green eye mask, leaving you to contemplate the mysterious package. Not one to dawdle, you approached the table by the door, spotting a small brown box with your name inscribed on it.
With eager anticipation, you unwrapped the package, unveiling a stunningly bejeweled red mask. A note accompanied the alluring accessory, bearing the cryptic message:
"Something about me, I fucking hate the colour yellow."
A smirk played on your lips as you extracted the exquisite gift from its velvet cradle. The crimson mask lay in your hands, a stunning creation adorned with gemstones that caught and reflected the light with each subtle movement. Blush flooded your cheeks as you approached the mirror, slipping the mask on. Turning your head in every direction, you marveled at the way it enhanced your features, making you feel like a mysterious enchantress.
The beauty of the mask was beyond words, and even though the logical part of you knew it had to be from Mattheo, the sheer magnificence of the gift made it feel almost surreal.
After what felt like an eternity lost in the mirror, admiring the stunning mask, the realization hit that you needed to meet Theodore. He'd mentioned waiting for you at the entrance to your common room, so as swiftly as possible, you adjusted your dress, attempting to cover up your chest, and gracefully slipped out of your room, navigating the familiar halls with a sense of purpose.
The chilled corridor welcomed you as you emerged, and after a brief moment of searching, there, like an awakening spell, you spotted Theo--and your stomach nearly leapt into your chest at the sight of him.
"Holy shit, Nott...are you...are you actually wearing enemy colors?" Your jaw dropped as you beheld Theodore in a Ravenclaw blue suit, a sight you'd never expected in a million years. "Hold still, I need to take a bloody picture of this."
Theo's arrogant response came with a sly smirk, his dark eyes tracing hungrily over your figure. He stood before you in a pristine suit, accompanied by matching vest, and a crisp white dress shirt underneath. The ensemble was adorned with exquisite gold links and buttons, showcasing his impeccable taste. His confident demeanour suggested that he indeed cleaned up more than nicely, and this was only a slight indication of his professionalism.
"Sure, have your laughs," he quipped, an arrogant smirk playing on his lips. His eyes moved deliberately, scanning the curves of your figure. "Enjoy the view while it lasts, little bird. This suit's debut is a one-time thing—I might just set it ablaze once the night is over."
"Well you certainly know how to make a girl feel special, don't you?..." you teased, grin stretching past your ears as you took another step closer. "How honoured I am to accompany you in this suits first and only outing."
"Your wit is far too sharp for a Ravenclaw," Theo huffed in amusement, his stormy eyes glistening behind his dark blue mask. "You look properly fucking flaming by the way...do pardon my French."
You snorted, gracefully taking his arm as he offered it, intertwining yours around his. "French? I was under the impression you were Italian, Signor Nott."
"You speak it?" Theo raised an intrigued eyebrow, briefly glancing down at you as the two of you strolled towards the ballroom.
"Partially," you replied, a playful glint in your eye, your attention split between the conversation and the challenge of navigating gracefully in your black heels. Each step resonated with a confident clack on the school floors. "I dabble in a multitude of tongues...a side effect of an inquisitive mind."
"Is that so?" he said, pure intrigue in his tone. "Talk to me in Italian then,"
"Are you serious?" You snorted, far louder than you'd intended, waiting for him to say he was joking. He simply looked down at you, eyes locked on yours behind the mysterious mask.
"Absolutely serious," Theo chuckled, the breathy tones dancing in the air, a subtle spark of challenge in his eyes. "A little ball of knowledge, huh? Prove it."
A warm flush crept up your cheeks as you stifled your laughter. Theo had a charm of his own, a natural way of drawing people in much like Mattheo, although the troublemaking wizard had a slightly more breathtaking allure with those dark, intoxicating eyes and that unruly mop of chocolate curls. It wasn't a shortcoming on Theo's part--it was simply the irreplaceable magnetism that Mattheo possessed, but you couldn't deny the way Nott was making you feel.
"Alright, you want me to put my money where my mouth is, I respect that." You teased, clearing your throat as you pondered an Italian phrase that might leave an impression. After a brief moment of contemplation, it dawned on you. "Non c'è rosa senza spine."
(There is no rose without thorns.)
"Buona scelta," he replied with a smirk, his tone holding an air of both appreciation and subtle challenge. "Sei più astuta di quanto pensassi."
(Good choice; you’re more clever than I thought.)
"You underestimate me, Nott," you chuckled, a surge of pride coursing through you. "Consider that your first mistake."
"You know, the more I get to know you, the larger my desire to figure you out becomes,” he said, dropping his tone into a husky whisper as the two of you turned a corner. "You are...intriguing."
It was at this moment, as the two of you entered into the bustling main hall, that you were extremely thankful this event was a masquerade. The mask provided a welcome veil of anonymity, shielding you from the prying gazes that threatened to make you uneasy. It seemed you were blending seamlessly into Theo's arm, a part of the enigmatic allure rather than a subject of scrutiny.
"You couldn't figure me out in a million years," you retorted, a sharp edge to your tone, the corners of your lips subtly playing with a hint of a smirk. "Better men have tried."
Theo, as expected, didn't like that response. "Don't tempt me, little bird...I will make it my life's mission."
You rolled your eyes, chewing on your cheek. "You're far too sure of yourself, Theodore."
"Look at that, Bella...you're already using my first name," he quipped, smirking. "I'm making progress without even trying."
You fought the urge to smack him, your eyes narrowing in a playful challenge. "To know me, Signor Nott, I'll put you through hell...just ask Riddle, he can certainly attest."
"Mm, thats precisely the thing, little bird..." he said, his smirk holding a touch of intrigue. "Riddle's a closed book when it comes to you. Doesn't spill a damn thing, makes me wonder what secrets the two of you are hiding.”
"Quite a conspiracy, I'd say," you chuckled, relishing the light banter between you two as the distant sounds of music and laughter from the ballroom grew louder. With a nod and a playful smile, you gestured toward the entrance. "Shall we?"
Theo nodded, a playful glint in his eyes, as he released your arm and extended a hand to the small of your back, ushering you forward. "After you, milady"
Upon crossing the threshold into the ballroom, a breathtaking scene unfolded before your eyes. The room was adorned with vibrant spring decorations, an enchanting celebration marking the approaching end of the term. The fragrance of fresh flowers wafted through the air, and the soft glow of enchanted lanterns bathed the room in a warm, golden radiance. Hogwarts students from all years, dressed in their finest attire, wore a dazzling array of masks, each one a unique work of art.
As your eyes darted around the room, the search for familiar faces led you to a moment of anticipation. The diversity of masks, ranging from intricate designs to whimsical shapes, made it challenging to discern familiar faces.
Finally, your gaze landed on the only man you'd ever go out of your way to search for, his distinctive chocolate curls drawing your attention like a magnet amidst the sea of masked enchantment. The mere fucking sight of him, cloaked in newfound sophistication, sent a thrilling pulse through your veins, awakening sensations in your body that you were unprepared to face.
He stood there, like a fucking silhouette of elegance, adorned entirely in black--black mask, black suit pants, a sleek black dress shirt, and a finely tailored black suit vest. The only splash of colour adorned him in the form of a satin red tie, perfectly mirroring the shade of your dress. The entirety of your being froze in place, your throat resembling a parched desert, the sole reminder to keep moving coming from the steady pressure of Theo's hand on your back, coaxing you forward through the enchanting crowd.
As the two of you veered closer to them, the tension in your body was almost painful. Truth be told, it wasn't the singular presence of Mattheo that set your heart racing like a high-performance sports car on race day--oh, no, the true accelerant was his fucking date. The very girl from the washroom, the one you had directed him to accompany, and the vibrant colour of her long, flowing dress:
Yellow.
"Riddle, Malfoy," Theo uttered, initiating a firm handshake with each of his Slytherin comrades as they exchanged greetings. "Parkinson, Lanalock."
"Nott," Parkinson remarked, a smile gracing her features. "Never expected to see you in blue. You could easily pass for a Ravenclaw, you know."
Theo's response carried a touch of cunning arrogance, sneaking you a glance. "A choice made with utmost consideration, you might say."
In the midst of the social dance, your gaze and Mattheo's remained locked, an unbroken connection that felt more like a silent conversation than a mere exchange of glances. The unspoken tension between you two hung thick, and in that charged moment, it was uncertain if either of you had even blinked. Your heart pounded not only in your throat but also seemingly echoed in another, more intimate part of you as well.
Mattheo had never looked more fucking captivating, and the longing for him intensified by the millions--that merciless irresistible force effortlessly working to pull you closer.
Just as the tension threatened to become all-encompassing, Professor Dumbledore's voice reverberated over the lively chatter, his warm tone weaving through the air.
"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the enchanting Spring Masquerade. I hope the magic of the night unfolds to your desires. Now, if you would kindly make your way to the dance floor, we are about to commence the first slow dance of the evening. So, let the celebration begin."
The resonance of Dumbledore's voice snapped you from Mattheo's visual captivity, prompting a few deliberate blinks and an expelled breath laden with tension. Theo, with a gentle glance, took your hand, guiding the group to choose spots on the dance floor directly adjacent to one another. It required every fiber of your being not to steal a glance at Mattheo, aware that the mere sight of him holding another girl would induce a wave of nausea within you.
Your attention became an exclusive affair with Theo. As he placed his hands on your hips, his grip was tender, a sensation entirely distinct from anything you'd experienced with Mattheo. A sharp intake of breath accompanied the elevation of your arms, led your palms to find a gentle perch on Theo's shoulders. In the depths of his stormy blue eyes, you unintentionally delved, oblivious to the intensity of the eye contact you established--you were so lost in your own thoughts that a bomb could go off in this very room, and you were certain you wouldn't even flinch.
Then, Theo's voice broke the silence. "Little bird, are you alright?"
"Oh, yes," you blinked, your voice escaping your throat in a cracked whisper, as though each word were a struggle for breath. "And you?"
"More than," he quipped, a teasing smirk playing on his lips.
Your watchful eyes tracked the journey of his gaze, starting from your eyes, sliding leisurely to your lips, lingering provocatively before venturing lower, dipping over your chest with a seductive grace before sinuously slithering back up. The subtle intimacy of the visual exploration ignited a warmth within you, and you glimpsed his lips, recalling Emily's advice from your dorm. Make these men squirm.
"Glad to hear it," you mused, a playful edge to your tone, your fingers tightening their grip on his shoulders as he delicately drew you closer. "Wouldn't want the Italian playboy to be anything other than alright."
His grip tightened perceptibly, the sensation almost tangible as if his nails could breach the delicate fabric of your dress. The room plunged into a soft dimness, signaling the beginning of the slow dance. The shift in atmosphere was unexpected, enough to make you jump slightly. For a fleeting moment, you locked eyes with Mattheo, finding his gaze fixed on you, his hands scarcely making contact with his date.
Hastily looking away, Theo's voice reached your ear, dangerously close, "Italian playboy, hmm? Is that what they're calling me these days?"
"Don't act like you weren't already aware," you chuckled softly, the resonance carrying a hint of mischief. "Though, I must say, the rumors might be onto something."
Theo smirked, his voice a low murmur tinged with arrogance. "Well, uccellino, despite the rumors, I assure you I am a proper gentleman..."
A sharp intake of breath caught in your throat as his nails dug deeper into the fabric of your dress, compelling you closer as the two of you gracefully swayed to the music.
"How gentle you are, indeed," you mumbled, chewing your lip as you met his gaze, the two of you dangerously close together.
Theo's gaze deepened, his lean frame bending down as his lips brushed against your ear. "I may be a gentleman, Bella," he murmured, the words a seductive whisper. "...but if you keep looking at me like that--with those big eyes, biting on your goddamn lip...we might just be fucking on the nearest surface I find."
Oh, no. This was bad. Your response stammered out before you could even think to stop it, panic flickering in your eyes.
"I-I, excuse me," you stuttered, hastily breaking away from the dance just as the song was nearing its end. The abrupt departure carried a mix of flustered embarrassment and a desperate need to collect yourself.
Seeking refuge, you maneuvered toward the drink table nestled in the far corner of the room. The dim light and distant chatter provided a momentary escape as you began to slam back drinks, attempting to drown the intensity of the encounter with Theo.
As the remnants of a calm facade settled within, a subtle shift in the atmosphere stirred your senses. A tingling awareness compelled you to glance over your shoulder, only to find yourself ensnared in the dark, intoxicating depths of Mattheo's eyes. A strange yet undeniable wave of relief washed over you, despite the fact that he stood looming directly behind, adopting the guise of casualness while pretending to grab a drink.
"Mattheo," you breathed his name, the syllables escaping your lips like a breathless sin, a recognition of the forbidden allure that surrounded him. "What are you doing?"
Mattheo's breath, a tantalizing whisper, brushed against the nape of your neck, setting your nerves ablaze. "I can't stand the way he's touching you, Raven...I can't even stand the way he's fucking looking at you..."
Your lungs seemed to stall. "This was your idea, Matty..."
"I'm well aware," he hissed, the energy radiating from him palpable in the charged air. "Fuck, you look so fucking sexy...you are so goddamn beautiful, you know that?"
"I'm not sure I do..." your heart melted, a subtle heat pulsating through your thighs. "I think I need you to tell me again."
"You are so, so fucking beautiful..." he muttered, his voice a deep husk, strained with lust as it left his throat. "You are the most captivating girl in this entire fucking room...I can't stop staring at you...I can't stop needing you..." you gasped as his hand grazed over your ass, subtly, but a feeling you'd never miss. "What do you think you're fucking doing to me, hm?"
You nibbled on your bottom lip, the flush of blood coloring your face. "At this moment...nowhere bloody close to enough."
Mattheo's voice, saturated with desire, responded, "You're absolutely right, princess...and I can't wait to have you all to myself, as soon as this dumb fucking dance is over."
A soft hum escaped you as your lids fluttered, reveling in the warmth of Mattheo's body behind you. "Unless Nott gets to me first..."
As though a switch had been flipped, Mattheo's hand seized your wrist with a subtle yet undeniable warning, a silent caution against uttering anything remotely similar again.
"Don't even joke about that, Raven," he growled, the intensity in his voice cutting through the air. "I swear to Salazar himself, what I did to Berkshire will pale in comparison to what I'll do to Nott."
"So jealous, Matty..." you purred, smirking as he slowly released your wrist. You couldn't deny that his possessive tendencies did something to you, however fucking insane they were. "So angry..."
"You like that, don't you?...dirty little slut..." you could practically hear the smirk on his perfect fucking lips, your entire body vibrating with need. "Keep tempting me, princess...I'll bend you over this table, fuck you in front of the whole fucking school...I'll point my gun at Notts fucking head and make him watch, on his knees in front of you as I fuck you stupid...how does that sound for jealous, hm?"
Breath eluded you, the sheer intensity threatening your consciousness. "Godric, help you..."
"Sorry, Raven, but the only help from above that I believe in is a sniper on a rooftop..." Mattheo's voice, a deep, honeyed drawl, slipped from his lips. "And just so you're aware, I know eighty different ways to kill a man--and I can make an easy seventy nine of them look like a bloody accident...understand?"
"Fuck..." your mind struggled to form coherent thoughts. It had been days since his last touch, and the way he spoke now made you crave him more than the very air you breathed. "I don't think I do...I think I need you to tell me again..."
"I've never been a jealous man, Raven..." Mattheo's gaze swept the surroundings, ensuring no lingering gazes were watching. Satisfied, he shifted slightly, his lips now at your other ear. "I've never envied someone for what they have or who they're with, and yet, I'm damn jealous of every asshole you smile at, everyone you openly converse with...I've never fucking wanted something that I couldn't have, a girl I couldn't get...so this, all of this...is fucking maddening."
Your lungs seemed to stall, a momentary freeze as if he'd submerged you into the heart of a raging inferno. A surge of warmth flooded through every fiber of your being, an intoxicating heat.
"I need you," your voice murmured, the words dripping with a desperate longing. "I need you in every fucking way imaginable..."
"Mm," Mattheo hummed, the warmth of his touch tracing the curve of your hip. "Such a delightfully dirty mouth for a princess..."
Feigning innocence, you lifted your gaze to meet his, a coy smile gracing your lips. "Perhaps...but even princesses have their secret pleasures, don't they, Matty?"
For a moment--a fleeting, beautiful fucking moment--your eyes locked, and it was in that secret realm, where slight smirks played on each of your lips, and the tension was fucking so thick that you could hardly breathe--where you both knew you've found what the whole fucking world was still carelessly searching for.
And it was there, that you knew--no man, no job, no fucking career could ever make you feel as happy and needed and treasured as Mattheo Riddle did. In his own, crazy, fucked up way.
Mattheo blinked. "Meet me in the washroom in forty minutes.”
—————————
Chapter 26->
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Lorenzo Berkshire- Through Rain or Shine
Info: you’d had a tough couple of weeks, and needed to find a way to relieve the numbness in your chest. when your forever friend unsurprisingly joins you, the two of you finally admit your feelings for eachother, after all those years.
Word Count: 3.8k
Tags: 18+, smut, fingering, kissing, themes of mild depression, praise kink, fluff, so much angst, childhood best friends to lovers trope.
In the quiet solitude of your dorm room, the weight of exhaustion pressed upon you like an invisible force, each day's relentless grind etched into the lines of weariness on your face. The past weeks had been an unyielding onslaught of books and notes, every waking moment dedicated to the pursuit of academic excellence, driven by the burning desire to excel in the impending owls exam.
The recent breakup with your boyfriend had cast a shadow over your world, pushing you deeper into the solace of your studies. Nights blurred into early mornings as you immersed yourself in the expanse of your textbooks, seeking refuge from the echoing emptiness left by the now-fractured relationship. Distractions became your lifeline, a shield against the lingering pain that clung to your chest like an unwelcome weight.
As the culmination of your efforts approached with the passing of your owls exam, a bitter relief settled in upon the conclusion. Yet, despite the temporary reprieve, the ache in your chest persisted, an unyielding rock crushing against your lungs. Caffeine and sleep proved futile against the overwhelming exhaustion that permeated your mind and soul.
And on yet another seemingly mundane night, a symphony of raindrops assaulted your window with an angry rhythm, a stormy punctuation to the warm spring night. Beneath the cocoon of your sheets, you lay motionless, your gaze fixated on the rivulets tracing their path down the glass. Restlessness plagued your every toss and turn, a sleep-deprived mind refusing the solace of slumber.
And as hour after hour passed in the hushed corridors of Gryffindor Tower, you succumbed to a rebellious impulse, heedless of any potential consequences. Clad in only a pair of sleep shorts and a light long-sleeved shirt, you navigated the dimly lit common room, driven by a compulsion to escape, to just fucking break free for once. Troublesome thoughts of repercussions faded in the face of your overwhelming apathy, truly not giving one single fuck about what could, or would happen to you if you were to get caught.
The damp corridor led you to the entrance of the courtyard, where the angry rain battered against the aged stones. A deep breath filled your lungs with the crisp scent of the tempestuous storm, and as you stepped into the downpour, an electric warmth surged through your drenched body. The hard curtain of water enveloped you, washing away the numbness and invigorating your senses, a desperate attempt to feel something--anything--other than the weight of your weary existence.
In another brief stretch of madness, you descended, lowering yourself against the soaked, weathered stones beneath your feet. As your back connected, you felt the tension instantly leave your bones, a shiver dancing along your spine, a stark contrast to the warmth pulsating within. The rain continued its unrestrained assault, a cacophony of droplets drumming against your body and soaking you to the bone.
With each breath, the scent of petrichor mingled with the raw, earthy aroma of the surrounding flora. Your clothes clung to your body, a second skin saturated by the unrelenting downpour. The waterlogged fabric, though chilling, brought a visceral reminder of your exhilarated presence in this moment--a stark departure from the numbness that had gripped you for the last few weeks.
In the embrace of the storm, time lost its linear structure, and the weight of your weary existence momentarily dissolved. The courtyard became a sanctuary, a refuge where the boundary between self and nature blurred, and for a fleeting moment, you existed in a space beyond the confines of your troubles, surrendering to the elemental dance of rain and stone.
Until, suddenly, the ephemeral sanctuary of rain-soaked contemplation shattered abruptly as someone leaned over you, disrupting the elemental dance against your skin. Startled, you opened your eyes, squinting against the mingling rain and the sudden intrusion of the night. There, peering down at you with a mixture of concern and confusion, was Lorenzo Berkshire, your damn-near lifelong bestfriend.
His worried expression cut through the remnants of your momentary escape, and reality crashed back with a jolt. The rhythmic percussion of rain against stone now seemed distant, replaced by the urgency in Lorenzo's eyes.
"What in Merlin's name are you doing out here?" His voice pierced through the storm, the concern in his tone palpable. "You're going to catch a bloody cold."
You groaned, squeezing your eyes shut as annoyance rolled through you. The boundary between self and the outside world reasserted itself, and the refuge you'd found in the solitude had now entirely slipped away, all thanks to the presence of your wonderful, but admittedly infuriating bestfriend.
"Enz, for the love of all things magical..." you grumbled, stubbornly keeping your eyes shut against both rain and scrutiny. "Can't I just have a moment alone? Please, just let me be."
"I can't just leave you out here, especially when you're practically bathing in the bloody storm." Lorenzo's concern lingered in the air as he shook his head, raindrops scattering from the movement. "Come on...let's get you inside before you turn into a drowned owl."
You stubbornly shook your own head, now--your rain-soaked hair clinging to your face as a testament to your unwillingness to yield.
"Enzo, I need this..." you muttered, not ready to abandon the calm you had just found, only moments earlier. "Just-just give me a bit longer, please?"
Ignoring Lorenzo's outstretched hand, you clung to the puddled, uneven stones beneath you, a silent plea for solitude amidst the storm. At your denial, your best friends frown deepened, lines of worry etching across his forehead as he observed your silent resistance. The genuine concern in his eyes betrayed an understanding that surpassed mere words.
He knew you--knew the intricacies of your soul since the days when stumbling was a more common occurrence than walking. He knew this was not like you.
He crouched down beside you, raindrops creating a haphazard pattern on his shoulders. The bond between you two transcended the need for spoken explanations. As he rested a hand on your shoulder, a comforting weight that spoke of shared history, he sighed.
"You've weathered storms before, but this...it's different. You're different." His voice was soft, gentle, barely audible over the sound of rain slamming the stone next to your head. "I'm worried about you."
"I know, Enz," you admitted, almost reluctantly. Opening your eyes, you met his gaze, and in that moment, vulnerability hung in the air. "It's just...everything--the exams, the breakup...I needed a moment to drown it all out, but it seems the storm found me first."
Enzo's hand on your shoulder tightened slightly, a wordless reassurance that spoke volumes. Together, in that shared silence, you both acknowledged the profound truth--you weren't facing the storm alone. He'd simply never allow it. And then, without uttering a single word, Enzo lowered himself to the rain-soaked stones, settling beside you with a quiet understanding. The haphazard patterns of raindrops now painted both of your figures entirely, a shared canvas in the midst of the storm.
In the hushed ambiance of the stormy courtyard, shielded behind bushes and flowers, you shifted your gaze toward Enzo, silently appreciating the allure of his rain-soaked features. Long lashes, adorned with raindrops, sparkled like morning dew, tracing a delicate path along his rosy cheeks. There was a captivating ease in the way he simply basked in the warm rain, his handsome features unburdened as though he was simply reclining in the luxury of his bed.
Enzo had always embodied an enduring quality, a trait that defied life's intricate twists and turns--an attribute you had always found yourself inexplicably envious of. His carefree demeanor wasn't a recklessness that jeopardized education or safety; instead, it mirrored the carelessness of a child navigating their first steps or the unburdened joy of someone soaking up the sun after a harsh winter. He moved through life with a rare freedom, an effortless lightness that resonated deep within you.
For that, you couldn't help but love him--a sentiment woven into the fabric of your bond. No matter the trials life presented or the stretches of silence between you, you unfailingly found yourselves back together. Side by side, navigating this crazy thing you called life.
"I'm here," Enzo's voice shattered the silence, a gentle reassurance that jolted you out of your contemplative trance. It dawned on you that you'd been lost in the steady gaze of his rain-kissed features. "You don't have to talk to me...but I'm here."
Your response came as a slow nod, a silent acknowledgment of his unwavering presence. The weight of his words wrapped around you like a comforting embrace, a reassurance that soothed every inch of ache in your bones. It was right then, that you realized, since he'd laid down beside you, the numbness in your chest had completely fucking vanished.
Turning your attention back to the sky, you shut your eyes, embracing the rain that pelted your face. Basking in the comforting silence, you whisper, "Do you ever think about the day we met?"
Enzo's fingers brushed against yours, a tender touch that spoke volumes as he replied, "All the time."
His response stirred a warmth in your chest, a gentle flutter that resonated with the shared nostalgia. "The day at the lake?"
His low chuckle, like a melody in the rain, accompanied his words, "When you stole my toy shovel and then pushed me into the water when I tried getting it back?"
“Oh, please!” An uncontrolled giggle bubbled from your lips as you countered, "that's not at all how it went."
Enzo's eyes sparkled with amusement as he awaited your correction. "Okay, then, enlighten me. How did it really go?"
"Okay, okay, maybe it did go a bit like that..." amidst laughter, you playfully explained, "but you were the one who stole my bucket first, Enz. I had to get you back for it!"
"Fair enough, angel, I might have started it." Enzo's laughter blended with the raindrops as he conceded, "I guess I had it coming.”
Smirking, you retorted, "You've been a pain in my butt since the day we met, Enz…some things never change, do they?"
Enzo's grin widened, and he retorted, "Guilty as charged. But you love me for it, don't you?"
His eyes, filled with a mixture of mischief and affection, reflected the depth of a connection that had weathered the mischievous escapades and grown stronger with each passing storm.
"How couldn't I?" you responded with a fond smile, your gaze locking with his. "With a smirk that irresistibly charming, you make it impossible not to."
"Can't argue with that, angel," he quipped, flashing his teeth playfully. "Charm has always been my secret weapon."
As your laughter faded, a pause settled between you two. Staring at him, a flood of memories cascaded through your mind--years of friendship, shared laughter, and the occasional drunken kiss that had always lingered like a quiet undercurrent. In that moment, you couldn't deny the feelings that had grown, evolving beyond the boundaries of friendship.
The courtyard, still bathed in the rain's embrace, became a silent witness to the realization that the line you'd hesitated to cross might have finally blurred beyond recognition.
"Enz...have you ever...felt, lost?" As you blinked, you glimpsed his lips, your voice a soft murmur as it left your throat. "Like everything you thought was solid, just…crumbled away?"
"Absolutely," he confessed, a soft sigh escaping him as raindrops adorned his lashes like jewels. "It's like the ground beneath you turns into quicksand, and-"
"You're unsure of what to cling to, because it feels like..." you interrupted, your eyes locking onto his.
"....it’s all collapsing alongside you," he finished, completing your thought with a shared understanding. "Absolutely, angel...absolutely."
As you paused, eyes fixed on his features, a rush of emotions surged within you. The realization of your profound affection for this boy, the depth of his unwavering presence, and the shared history you both carried became palpable.
The weeks of self-imposed hibernation in your dorm had isolated you from the world, but here, in the midst of the storm, Enzo stood by your side. His willingness to weather the rain with you, to share the weight of your troubles, became a testament to a friendship that had transcended time and circumstance. The unspoken understanding, the shared glances, all hinted at a connection that had weathered storms of both the heart and the skies.
"Enz," you murmured, the endearment slipping from your lips like a secret shared between kindred spirits. "Thank you, for being here...it means more than you'll ever know."
"You don't have to thank me, angel," he replied, a warm smile tugging at the corners of his rain-kissed lips. "We've always been in this together...through rain or shine--it's what best friends do."
In the quietude of the rain-soaked courtyard, a charged silence hung between you and Enzo. Your heart, like a captive creature, pounded in your chest as you found solace in the shared gaze. His brown eyes, an intimate dance of vulnerability and unspoken sentiments, darted between your eyes and lips.
And then, in an unexpected surge of emotion, the two of you moved as if drawn by an invisible force--his hands found your face, a gentle reassurance, while your own hands mirrored the sentiment, delicately grasping the back of his neck as you pulled him close. Lips collided in a shared moment of exasperation, a kiss that seemed to carry the potential to mend wounds. Enzo's soft, warm lips moved with a careful precision, as though he feared shattering the fragile connection by moving too quickly or being too rough.
A sigh mingled within your shared breaths, and the emotional tide of the kiss swept over you. In the midst of the courtyard's relentless downpour, the intimacy of the moment became a sanctuary. Emotions, sought when you ventured into the rain-soaked space, surged to the surface, rendering you more alive than you had felt in fucking weeks.
Enzo, breaking the kiss with a soft, lingering reluctance, allowed his lips to trail along your jawline. A whisper of breath brushed against your skin as he confessed, his words carrying the weight of years of unspoken desire.
"I've wanted to do that for years," he admitted, the revelation settling in the damp air around you. "...for so many fucking years..."
Your response came as an instinct, your hands finding their way into his hair, pulling him close with a magnetic urgency.
"Me fucking too," you whispered, a fusion of emotions flooding your voice, "why did we wait so long?"
Enzo's gaze, now intensified by the admission and the proximity between you two, held a mixture of regret and longing. He nestled closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke with a sincerity that echoed through the courtyard.
"I don't know, angel," he murmured, the words carrying the weight of missed chances and unspoken confessions. "Maybe we were both waiting for the right storm to finally let it all pour out."
"Mm--pour it out for me, Enz," you whispered, your voice a gentle plea. "Tell me where you've been...tell me where your heart is..."
With a shared understanding, Enzo gently urged you to lay back, guiding you back against the cool, rain-drenched stones. He positioned himself alongside you, his head resting on your chest, the closeness of his body providing a comforting warmth against the coolness of the courtyard. One hand cradled your head while his other traced a delicate path down your stomach, igniting your skin into flames. Inhaling a sharp breath, he confessed,
"Someone once told me that it all comes down to the last person you think of at night." His fingers teasingly traced the line of your shorts as he continued, "That's where your heart is."
As his words lingered in the air, a tender smile played on your lips. Your eyes squeezed shut, encapsulating the vulnerability of the moment. Your hands found solace in his hair, fingers gently petting as you embraced the emotional tide that swept over you.
"Mm-yeah?" you murmured, finding it challenging to stay fully focused on his words as his soft teasing fingers traced along your inner thigh. "And who do you think of?"
Enzo pulled his head from your chest, meeting your eyes with an intensity that cut through the rain-soaked ambiance. His gaze held nothing but pure seriousness as he uttered, "Can I touch you, angel? Please?"
A near mewl escaped your lips, your entire body buzzing with anticipation. "Please do, Enz," you whispered, the plea carrying a mixture of desire and vulnerability. "Gods, please-"
Enzo leaned in, pressing his lips to yours in a soft kiss as he inched his fingers closer and closer to the edge of your shorts. As he slipped his tongue past your teeth, gentle yet urgent, you found yourself practically holding your breath in anticipation, shifting your legs wider slightly to give him better access.
Without wanting to keep you waiting for much longer, his long fingers slipped past the edge of the soaked fabric, connecting directly with your heat as you weren't wearing any panties. You moaned into his mouth and he swallowed it eagerly, his fingers wasting no time at all before beginning to rub tight circles against your clit.
Your grip on his hair tightened, your entire body quivering and squirming against his touch. You lost yourself in sensation, moaning into his mouth as he manipulated you expertly, sucking in air through his nose as he kissed you like he could devour you. The cool raindrops on your skin contrasted with the heat building in your body, and you felt as if you were about to burst with pleasure, explode with emotion.
Breaking the kiss, he pressed his forehead against yours, both of you breathing heavily as he slipped a finger inside you while his thumb continued to rub against your clit. You arched your back against him, feeling every inch of his finger stretching you out as he drove you to the brink of ecstasy, whimpering as quietly as you could as the two of you blended into the darkness, curtains of rain acting as your shield.
"I think of you, angel," His lips found your neck, kissing and biting gently as he continued to work you with his fingers, building your orgasm dangerously fast. "I think of you before I sleep...I wake up and I think about you..."
Your hands shifted, fisting his shirt as you cried out in pleasure, raindrops falling around you in a steady rhythm. You could feel his lips on your neck, leaving wet kisses as he continued, "I think about kissing you good morning...I fall asleep while thinking about kissing you goodnight..."
"Oh...Enz..." the words sent a fresh surge of desire through you, and you arched your back involuntarily, trying to get closer to him. "Oh my Gods..."
"You're so beautiful like this," he murmured against your skin, his breath hot against your ear. "You know I'm helplessly fucking in love with you, right?"
"Oh-fuck-" you moaned, louder than you'd expected as he increased his pace on your clit, his finger pumping in and out of you with increased intensity, sending your vision spinning. "Enzo-"
"Mhm...pretty girl..." he cooed as you tilted your head back, giving him better access to your neck, and he obliged by nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin. "I fell in love with you back before knowing what love even was..." he placed sloppy kisses on your collarbone, nipping softly. "And I've stayed in love with you because no one...fucking no one has ever made me feel the way you do."
Moaning softly, you squirmed beneath him, unable to contain the growing intensity coursing through your body. Tears welled in your eyes, each word that escaped his lips resonating with a tidal wave of emotion, threatening to engulf you under the weight of your own heart. This overwhelming surge of happiness felt surreal, like a dream you never dared to believe could be real.
Suddenly, he slipped another finger inside you, stretching you out wider as his thumb continued twirling over your clit. You cried out in pleasure, the intensity of the sensation making your toes curl, your chest reaching for oxygen as though you’d been starved of it for years.
"Fuck, you're so wet," Enzo murmured against your skin, his lips trailing kisses back up to your jawline. "Does this feel good, angel?"
All you could manage was a nod; your breath was coming in short gasps as the pleasure built and built inside of you. The rain continued to fall down around you, a cooling contrast to the heat in your body, bucking your hips against his hand, becoming increasingly desperate for release.
"Good girl...so, so good..." he purred, kissing his way back up your jawline until he veered back and met your lips, pressing the plush entirety of his mouth to yours. "I continue to fall in love with you every fucking day because there's no one I could ever picture my future with, other than you..."
"Oh Gods, Enzo..." you could feel the tension building in your body, coiling tighter and tighter until you were practically vibrating with need. "I'm so fucking in love with you..."
"Mm," he purred, grazing his lips against yours. "Music to my ears, angel..."
As if sensing how close you were, he slipped a third finger inside you, his movements becoming almost frantic as he continued to rub your clit in tight, harsh circles with his thumb. Your body shook with pleasure, every nerve ending sparking with sensation as Enzo's deep brown pools drilled into yours, watching every slight ministration of your face as you teetered on the edge of pure fucking ecstasy.
"Fuck-Enz..." you moaned, grasping the soaked fabric of his shirt for dear life, squeezing it within your trembling fists. "I'm going to-"
He kissed you again, smiling against your lips. "Cum for me."
That was all you needed to hear; and with a sharp cry, you came hard, spasms of pleasure wracking your body, your vision blurring as pleasure washed over you in waves. Enzo continued to move his fingers inside of you, riding out your orgasm until you collapsed, panting and spent. In the aftermath, as you both caught your breath, the rain persisted, its cool touch soothing your heated skin. A comfortable silence enveloped you, a serene pause in the midst of the rain-soaked courtyard.
After a lingering moment, Enzo gently pulled you up to your feet. Gripping your face with a tenderness that echoed the shared vulnerability, he kissed you again.
"I'll be here for you," he murmured, his words a gentle reassurance. "When you're down, I'll hold you; when you feel like you can't get up, I'll support you. We'll navigate this at your pace, angel. There's no need to rush."
"We've been friends since we were toddlers--how much less rushing can we do?" Giggling against his mouth, you playfully teased, "I just want you, Enz. You've made all the pain in the last few weeks completely irrelevant in a span of an hour...it’s always been you.”
"Then have me, love," he cooed, his fingers entwining with yours. "Whatever you desire, it's yours."
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MATTHEO RIDDLE- Beg For Me
Chapter Twenty Eight--Info: You and Mattheo have been butting heads for months, since you were assigned as his tutor, and one day during a session full of tense bickering, he has enough.
Tags: 18+, SMUT, Rough Sex, Slapping (for sexual titillation), Dirty Talk, Multiple Orgasm, Overstimulation, GUNPLAY, Outdoor Sex, Gagging, Choking, Praise Kink, Degradation Kink, ANGST ANGST ANGSTTTTTTT!!!!! GET THE TISSUES OUT!
FIND THE REST OF THE CHAPTERS HERE.
In the aftermath of your heartfelt confession, the ambiance shifted beneath the curtain of rain. Mattheo's initial warmth, which had enveloped the moment, began to withdraw, slowly being replaced by his usual guarded demeanor.
Tension, thick and tangible, emanated from him, as if he yearned to retract, to voice a refusal. The gaze that had once been soft, akin to melted chocolate, now bore a stark reluctance. It was as though the vulnerability you had glimpsed moments earlier had transformed into a protective shield, guarding him against the intensity of the unexpected revelation.
Undeterred, you pressed forward, defying the cooling atmosphere with a resolute step. Your hands, a gentle insistence against the encroaching frost, found their place on his face. Amidst the rhythmic percussion of springtime raindrops, your eyes held an unbroken contact, mirroring the pounding cadence of your heart. A silent gaze held him in place, allowing the weight of your words to permeate the space before you spoke again.
"Don't say anything," you whispered, the words borne on the breath of the rain-soaked air, a plea to let the unspoken emotions settle in the delicate stillness between you two. "You've said so much, Mattheo...you've shared so much with me...I don't need you to say another word...just...just listen,"
Mattheo blinked, the subtle motion accompanied by the quiet working of his throat as he swallowed. His hands, hanging at his sides, remained still as yours maintained their firm grasp on his face. An almost imperceptible nod from him prompted you to inhale sharply, capturing the breath in your lungs.
"Perhaps I lied to you..." you began, your voice soft, tender. "Perhaps I wasn't being truthful when I said I never believed in destiny...because in a way, I do...but I also believe that we are only destined to do the things we'd choose to do anyway..."
A pause ensued as you studied his countenance, your gaze tracing the scars on his skin and taking note of his perfect imperfections that shaped the essence of who he is.
"And I'd choose you, Mattheo...in a hundred fucking lifetimes, in a hundred different realities, I would choose you...every fucking time..." you declared, your grip on him intensifying. Your hands trembled, mirroring the tremor in your voice. "I don't care about your history, I don't care about any of the bad things you've done...everything you've been through has made you who you are...and I am fucking in love with who you are...every single part of you...your smart mouth, your cheeky smirk, every line and every scar..."
Drawing him nearer, you gently guided him until his forehead found solace against yours. His hands discovered the curve of your waist, pulling you into an embrace that emanated urgency, a profound need to absorb every syllable you uttered, each word a testament to the depth of emotions shared between you.
"Your skin, absent of its scars, would be like a sky without stars," you murmured, your shared breaths blending in the intimate proximity. "I didn't fall in love with you; I fucking walked into love with you--with my eyes wide open, deliberately choosing every step along the way. Everything you've revealed changes nothing, Matty...I love you, utterly and unequivocally."
A profound silence enveloped the space, and time seemed to elongate into a suspended realm, each passing moment an eternity. His eyes, a tumultuous storm of unexpressed feelings, gently fluttered closed, his lips parting as his breaths, once steady, now took on a rhythm almost akin to panting--a visceral manifestation of the emotions swirling within.
His hands, deliberate in their motion, traversed the landscape of your back, ascending with a sense of purpose. As they reached your head, his fingers, fueled by a desperate urgency, found purchase, gripping your face with a fervor that spoke volumes. In this charged atmosphere, his eyes, concealed behind closed lids, hinted at the vulnerability beneath the stoic exterior. The suspended moment begged for release, aching for the words that lingered on the precipice.
"Say it again..." his murmured request, laden with longing, reverberated through the charged air. "I just-"
"I love you," you said, the words firmer this time, your hands threading behind his head, fingers entwining in his soaked hair. "I love you..."
His jaw tensed, and he released a shaky breath--his eyelids fluttering, the grip on your skull tightening. "Again."
"I love you," you repeated, your voice gaining strength, fingers digging into his scalp as though you could force the words through. "I fucking love you, Mattheo Riddle."
Breaths intermingled, and your grips on each other surpassed the hold of any chains or restraints. In the pulsating intensity, your minds spun with a whirlwind of thoughts. Was there a sweeter arrangement than this? He gets to ask you, over and over to repeat it--while you get to tell him, over and over, that you mean it.
Your nails dug into his scalp, foreheads pressing together with an almost painful force. "I thought it would be impossible to ever find someone...to ever be with someone, when beneath my surface of composure, I'm scattered in a million different pieces--like a puzzle with missing parts..." you paused, lips softly grazing his. "But then you showed me that every piece doesn't have to be in place to create something beautiful...something real...that love can exist in the most imperfect, lost, broken people."
A guttural noise escaped him, resonating low in his throat as his fingers dug into your skin, cradling your head.
You inhaled a shallow breath before you continued, "and I promise you, my love will be just as strong, just as beautiful, whether you, too, are in a thousand pieces, or just one.”
Mattheo, completely struck silent, locked eyes with your parted lips. In perfect synchrony, your gaze met his, and in that silent exchange, there was a mere gasp of air before his mouth was on yours. The passion between your bodies ignited into an unbridled inferno, refusing any attempt at restraint. His kiss was a slippery bruise, melding madness at your skin, tongue driving into you while he inhaled through his nose. You met him, movement for movement, groaning against him, fingers folding further into his hair, thumbs tracing the tops of his ears, and he groaned against your lips before capturing them again,
The kiss was unlike any before--a fervent blaze spiraling out of control, unwilling to be subdued for even a moment longer. His lips met yours with an intensity that felt almost primal; a hungry, desperate fusion of raw emotion and longing. His hands cradled your head with a force that hinted at an uncontainable desire, making you wonder if he sought to meld your very essence. The cool droplets of rain cascaded around you, soaking your skin to the bone, but you couldn't find it in you to care.
"I need you, princess..." he whispered, parting from the kiss, his hands gliding down your back as his lips found the curve of your neck. "But you already knew that, didn't you? Pretty girl..."
Your eyelids fluttered in response, fingers tightly grasping his hair, a desperate grip that mirrored the intensity of his kisses trailing down your neck. Your lip found refuge between your teeth as his mouth explored the path of rain cascading along your skin.
"My tainted little angel," he murmured, his words a provocative caress against your ear. "Crushingly beautiful...tender like a bruise..."
His hands, firm and insistent, sought the curves of your hips, fingers grasping at the wet fabric of your dress, tugging it upwards along your thighs. "You were the first sin actually worth hurting for...had me wrapped around your little finger before you even fucking touched me..."
You throbbed, a full-body pulse, humming into him with a shudder, Mattheo's lips moved back to yours, nipping at your lower lip before sliding to your chin, following the streams on your skin as he pressed clumsy, open-mouthed kisses along your jaw, falling to suck and nibble at your heartbeat. Whimpering, you nuzzled your head into his, and he responded with a sharp bite to your neck, barely-restrained, earning a squeal from your throat.
"I told myself I was fine...that I was better off alone...never needed anyone, never wanted anyone...but then you came around, and after all this fucking time, after everything I put you through...it's still you, it's you who fucking believes in me..." he murmured against your skin. “You mean so fucking much to me…and when I finally admitted to that myself, when I finally let myself feel…you made me better, and I don't mean from being my tutor...you just made me want to be better...fuck, Raven...I wanted you to look at me the way you looked at the stars...I wanted to get better grades for you…I quit drinking and drugs because I wanted to be a better man for you..."
As he lifted your dress beyond your hips, your hands eagerly joined the movement, gathering the fabric's hem and peeling it over your head. His eyes traversed over every inch of newly exposed flesh, absorbing the sight with an intensity that spoke volumes. You observed as he swiftly shed his suit jacket, stripping the soaked fabric from his frame and laying it on the ground. His hands deftly moved to undo his belt, discarding his gun in the process. Returning a firm grip on your hips, he crashed his mouth back to yours, a relentless hunger igniting the kiss.
Moaning, you writhed into his chest, and he gripped your face, nails scraping your scalp while he pulled you closer, groaning into you, leaning--you followed him, chasing his kiss until you were both on the ground; him on his back, your legs straddling him, palms planted on his chest.
"I’ve had some, then most of you...all, and then none of you..." a soft, anxious breath escaped his throat, and he swirled his tongue over yours before biting your lip and pushing you up, hands settling on your thighs, rocking you back and forth over his thick erection, covered only by the thin fabric of his boxers. "I-I can't lose you again...it's you...it's fucking always been you..."
"Oh, Gods..." your voice cracked, emotion bubbling in your chest, threatening to spill out as you rolled your hips against him. He watched you, panting in rhythm with you, and you admired him--how fucking beautiful he was--his eyes stark with need, his mouth parted in open anticipation, his muscles tensing as he gripped and squeezed you, jerking his hips into your heat. "You won't...you fucking can't..."
Rain bathed you both, rivers roaming over your curves, white cloth of your bra a dewy illusion over your breasts. His thumbs skimmed your nipples with prickles of pleasure, and you moaned, head falling back on your shoulders. As if the sound awakened something inside him, he gripped your hips, flipping the two of you around until you were on your back beneath him, lips instantly moving to your neck, sucking at your throat.
You slid your hands under his shirt, savoring the firm contours of his body. He tensed, a low groan escaping into the intimate space between you, while his hips pressed against you with a force that seemed intent on melding you with the forest floor. Your fingertips traced the hard muscles, memorizing the damp, heated feel of his skin. In his voracious pursuit, he exhibited no restraint, extracting painful hickeys from the pulse at your neck.
The heat of desire surged between your thighs, and he moved lower, marking you with unrestrained passion. Tissue yielded to the pressure of his teeth, welts blooming under the fervent touch of his lips. Anxiety flickered through your mind as visible evidence of his ardor emerged, but the soft groan escaping his chest erased any concerns. Your back arched, willingly offering more of your untamed flesh to his insistent exploration. Grateful, he bit at the swell of your tits, crimson crescents blooming, and his hands moved to your underwear as he laved at your nipple through your bra, scraping it with his teeth through the fabric.
Mattheo fumbled at your folds, two thick fingers peeling you open, assessing your slickness, teasing your entrance. "Still so fucking wet for me..." he murmured, clucking his tongue. "And in the middle of the fucking forest...you'd take my cock anywhere I wanted, hm?"
You bit your lip, trying to grind against his hand. "What can I say...watching you use that gun did something to me..."
"Naughty, naughty girl..." he leaned to your ear, thumb skating your clit--you gasped. "Weren't you ever told to stay away from the asshole, weapon wielding bad boys?"
"Perhaps," you hissed through a moan as Mattheo pushed two fingers inside you--your walls tightening around him, hips twitching, head lolling against his soaked jacket. "Though I've never been good at following orders."
Mattheo huffed. "I'd say."
His mouth consumed you with a fervor, tracing a path of rich violet marks from your chin down to your clavicle, his spit mingling with the rain. Scissoring you open, he rolled your stiff clit, rocking his wrist, curling and working your walls, his other hand palming at his erection in an attempt to pacify himself. You bucked your hips, a shivering moan escaping, and he cursed, slamming in to the knuckle.
"If I fuck you now," he muttered at your jawline, "you'll have to take all of me. Everything I give you." He bit your neck, hard, forcing a cry from your lips. "I won't be able to control myself."
Heat scorched you, and you pulsed around him in anticipation, his fingers crooking in your wet core. Thunder grumbled in the distance. "Thought I'd long proved my capability."
Mattheo purred, and bit you again, pain shooting through you. "Earlier doesn't count, we were rushing...I need to wreck this tight little cunt...I'll fuck you harder and deeper than any of those assholes could ever fucking dream of..."
You shuddered, meeting his eyes. "Do your worst."
Snarling, he leaned back onto his knees, tore his fingers from your core and stuffed them in your mouth; you whinged in surprise, working to suckle them clean. Mattheo's free hand unleashed his dick, twitching eagerly despite its thick, heavy length. He jammed his hand to the back of your throat, and you gagged before he depressed your tongue, prying open your jaw.
"You know how this works." His gaze locked onto you, and the sky seemed to ignite with lightning around him. "Beg for it."
When he released you, you gasped into the rain. "Please, fuck me."
In the blink of an eye, his hand struck you, unleashing a spray of saliva from your parted lips. "That was pathetic," he snickered. "I fucking said beg."
Your face burned--humiliation, shock, and most importantly: desire. If this is what he meant, you wanted more. "Why don't you fucking make me?"
"There's that dirty mouth..." Mattheo smirked, shifting as he reached for his gun, gripping it with his free hand while the other stroked his cock. Before you could process it, he brought the barrel toward your temple, pressing the cold, wet metal against your skull. "Last fucking chance, princess...if you don't beg for my cock I'll fuck you so hard you'll be begging for mercy instead."
A whirlwind of shame and yearning left your head spinning, the likely instigators of your brief lapse into temporary insanity. "I'm not scared of you, Riddle..."
“Oh, princess.” His smirk grew. "You should be."
Adjusting the gun, he compelled the barrel past your lips, the icy metal coating your tongue. His other hand delved into your hair, gripping your soaked strands tightly as he forcefully drove the gun deeper into your throat. Then, without warning, he broke you open, splitting your core with a deep, harsh thrust, head slamming your cervix. You cried out against the weapon, body recoiling in pain, hands moving to his hips, and he shook you in reprimand.
"Oh, no--don't fucking bother." He drove his palm into your head, his nails scratching your scalp. "No running. Take it."
Mattheo pulled out fully before ramming back into you, spearing you with his cock, your body quaking with the force of each of his violent thrusts. His breath was already ragged, furious groans pushed from his chest as he fucked deep into you. Your lungs were empty, failing to find oxygen in his onslaught, your walls squeezing his length in delight, drool spilling down your chin and mingling with the flow of rain.
"Fuck--such an insatiable little cunt..." he growled, his eyes drilling into yours, taunting you through his gaze. "It missed this cock already, didn't it?"
Another deep thrust, meeting your cervix, and you winced, groaning against the gun as you tried to nod.
"That's right...shit..." he pulled the gun from your mouth, strings of drool hanging like garland from the barrel, quickly being washed away with the rain. "My girl...my fucking beautiful, filthy girl..."
He tossed it onto the ground next to your head, drawing his hand down toward your belly, slick fingers rubbing merciless circles on the bundle of nerves in rhythm with his pistoning hips--you wailed, drooling with pleasure, assaulted with a sudden, immediate need to orgasm.
"Fucking hell, you're so tight when you're about to cum..." he groaned, punishing your pussy with hard, rapid thrusts. "Prove you can take it. Cum on this cock."
Between the attention on your clit and the size of his dick, you snapped, convulsing and trembling while your blood flooded with flames, blazing heat through your thighs and to your toes. Above you, Mattheo hissed, fucking you through it, valiantly holding off his own orgasm as yours fizzed at your flesh. When your core's pulsing slowed, he shifted, propping your calves up his shoulders before he leaned forward and clamped his palm down on your neck.
"Don't squirm, baby..." his low voice commanded, and as you whimpered, squirming beneath him, his grin deepened. His eyes, now wild and intoxicated with desire, held a promise. "I gave you fair warning."
His free hand pinched your cheeks, slowly sliding out before slamming back in and pounding your cunt, growling breath leaking from his lungs, his hold on your throat tightening. The pressure in your head only doubled the frenzy of being fucked--you wheezed, your pulse thumping in your temples, and this spurred him on, drilling you with a depraved stare as he plowed into your tight pussy again and again and again.
The rain was steam on your skin, thunder a distant noise behind the sound of slapping skin and your strangled, whimpering moans. Your walls clenched and fluttered around his throbbing dick, sore clit twitching once more with a growing demand to be sated--Mattheo grunted, tugging you closer, eyes drilling into yours.
"Open that filthy mouth."
Wincing, you complied, parting your lips as he commanded. Without hesitation, he leaned down and spat into it.
"Now swallow it. Show me."
With determination etched on your face, you managed to comply against the pressure of his massive hand. Popping your jaw apart with a grimace, you showcased your resilience, earning a smirk from him. In response, he rewarded you with a series of both painful and blissful strokes of his hips, pushing your body to its absolute limit. Your breath had vanished ages ago, your heart now a wild entity, coursing through your veins.
"Poor baby," he sneered, feign sincerity in his tone. "I think you need to cum again."
He snaked his free hand between your legs, rolling your aching clit, and you groaned--or tried to, anyway--the speed of your pulse resonating through the grip on your neck. He felt it, too, head bowing in pleasured shock as you thrummed around him, your oncoming climax massaging his thick cock with every new thrust.
"Fuck." Resolute, he rubbed you faster, watching you--in his gaze, you saw nothing but an endless, dark void of lust. "Who do you fucking belong to?"
The words barely made it out. "Y-you, Mattheo..."
His choke tightened, and your vision blurred. "Who owns this tight little pussy?"
"You--you do, Mattheo..." you gasped.
"That's right," he sneered, and swirled your nub so quickly you squealed. "Cum for me, princess..."
The force of your orgasm surged through you, blurring your vision, and you screamed, choked by his hand as every muscle below your waist convulsed in a rapturous ecstasy. Your pussy milked and squeezed his cock, but he resisted his own climax once more, sinking into you until you descended. He drank in the sight of you--eyes rolled, raindrops scattered like diamonds on your skin, your throat and chest smothered with the evidence of his possession.
"Good fucking girl...take me...take all of me," he muttered, voice low and deep in the night air. "Every single fucking inch."
Mattheo shifted again, one arm coiling under you to fist your hair, the other cranking your leg back until your knee hit your chest. Groaning with pleasure, he hammered into you, stretching you wide, filling you to the base. Soaked strands of his hair slid into his eyes, and he tossed them back, wetting his lips and fucking you deep, trapping you in his feral gaze.
"You love me." He tilted your head back with a deliberate motion. "You fucking love me."
You nodded, not a shred of hesitation. "Yes-fuck! I do!"
He swallowed, inching closer, his forehead tenderly meeting yours. "After all of it," he whispered, the words almost lost in the shared breath, "after everything..."
Your chin quivered, and the revelation about his parents cut into your heart, a painful echo of his turbulent past. It hurt, yes, but it also felt like the a groundbreaking revelation, the ending to the story which finally explained why he was the way he was. There was an undeniable understanding that surged between your hearts, a silent recognition that both of you needed love in ways only the other could provide.
Despite the turmoil, you couldn't blame him for something so deeply rooted. The man craved love as desperately as you did, neither of you ever willing to admit it. In the synergy of your souls, there existed an undeniable connection, a perfect harmony that transcended spoken words. Even in the hushed language of silence, your hearts resonated, acknowledging that there would never be two souls more perfectly suited for each other than yours.
"After everything." You wrapped your arms around him, safe when lightning crashed, rocking your hips in his pace. "No matter what."
"Fuck." He wound your hair in his fist, and wrenched your head back, tearing at your throat with his teeth, harsh thrusts pulverizing your cunt. "...I'm--fuck--I'm going to make you break again." His hand left your leg, long fingers back to stroking your tender clit. "And then I'm going to fill you up with my cum."
Senses barraged, you shrieked, overwhelmed and oversensitive. He wasn't fucking joking. You wanted mercy. "Fuck! Mattheo! Please-please-"
"No. Take it," he snarled into your ear. "Take it."
He assailed your nub, and you quailed, curling around him like a snake, shaking from the overwhelming intensity of his power, lids shut while he nipped your neck, demolished your pussy, panted hard into your ear.
"You're mine." He growled, his voice shredded raw with lust. "Mine."
"I'm yours!" You shrieked, nails digging crescents into his back. "Yours."
"Fuck-" he hissed, slamming harder, deeper. "Mine! All fucking mine..."
"Yours! Fuck!" It was all too much, too great, brain crashing into a wanton mess. "All fucking yours!"
Your body convulsed, teeth sinking into your lip, propelled through a realm of heightened sensitivity into an ecstasy that seared your skin. Gasps and incoherent pleas spilled from your lips, a desperate supplication for release, for him to unleash the crescendo that would send you soaring and screaming and cumming.
"That's it," Mattheo growled, pumping into you, folding you into his frame. "You're taking me so fucking well baby, just one more...cum for me, angel."
Your senses fractured, caught between euphoria and disbelief, and your body spasmed, climax radiating through your every fiber, a luminous burst that shattered any remnants of sanity, setting Mattheo ablaze in its wake. He groaned, grunted, burying himself to the hilt, warm cock pulsing as he poured hot cum deep into your cunt. For a moment, he didn't move, silently working to catch his breath before he pulled back, shifting onto his knees.
You fixated on him, your head weighed down, struggling to fathom the endearment he had bestowed upon you--silently endeavouring to etch every detail of this encounter into the recesses of your memory. A contented sigh escaped you, accompanied by a smile that radiated the joy swelling within your chest.
However, as you gazed at him, basking in the warmth of affection twinkling in his eyes, you noticed a flicker of something else--an abrupt shift. His thumb grazed your chin absentmindedly before he moved, working to tuck himself away. You mirrored his actions, attempting to salvage what was left of your clothing, now thoroughly drenched by the relentless rain.
Walking through the forest on your way back to the castle, the shadows of the trees played in the puddle-soaked ground, creating a surreal dance around you. Mattheo extended his hand, a silent invitation you willingly accepted. The brief connection sent a comforting warmth through you, grounding you amidst the uncertainty.
As you navigated the path, thoughts swirled like the mist around you. The night's events echoed in your mind, and a cloud of questions veiled the clarity you sought. Contemplating a potential job at the castle, you wondered about its impact on your newfound bond with Mattheo. Did you still harbour the same enthusiasm for the job amid these compelling complexities? The walk became a journey through both the tangible forest and the intricate maze of your thoughts, navigating the uncertainty of what lay ahead.
Approaching the castle, the distant melody of music embraced the night air, whispering promises of celebration within. Capturing the tune, Mattheo halted abruptly, pivoting to face you as the two of you lingered just outside the castle walls, hidden by the shadows of the night.
Your brows furrowed inquisitively as you locked eyes with him, seeking to understand the meaning behind this sudden pause. "What are you-"
"Shh." He cooed, eyes darting around.
After a brief survey of the surroundings, he fixed his eyes back on you with a newfound emotion swirling within them. Without another word, Mattheo enveloped you in a tender embrace, guiding your arms to rest on his neck as his firm hands settled on your hips. Bathed in the gentle glow of castle lights, he initiated a graceful sway to the rhythm of a slow, melodic tune that harmonized seamlessly with the rain-soaked ambiance.
In the suspended moment, your gaze locked with his, the world around you blurred as the rain continued its gentle descent, creating an intimate cocoon amidst the springtime storm. It felt perfect, a clandestine world of your own, away from the prying eyes of others.
"All those people think love's for show..." Mattheo blinked, drawing his face closer. "But I'd fucking die for you in secret."
Your breath hitched, water welling in your eyes. You quickly blinked it away, searching his face, mapping it, along with everything else from this night into memory.
"How'd I get so lucky..." you tightened your hold on him, the raindrops adding a gentle percussion to the soundtrack of the moment. "A sky full of stars, and yet you're staring at me..."
"There's no need," he murmured, directing your head to lay against his chest. "Avere lei è come avere le stelle."
Your heart leapt. "How did you-"
"Notts been teaching me," he said, and you could practically hear the smirk on his lips, the pride in his tone. "You know what I said, don't you?"
You blushed, unable to stifle your grin. "I do."
He hummed. "Tell me."
"No," you whispered, fingers digging into his neck as you shifted your head to look up at him. "I'd like to hear you say it."
His smirk grew, and he peered down at you. "To have her, is to have the stars."
“Mm,” you glimpsed his mouth, brushing your lips against his as you murmured, "E averlo, è come avere la luna." (And to have him, is to have the moon.)
His smirk blossomed into a radiant smile as he gripped your face, drawing you into a profound, messy, deep kiss. Every fiber of your being quivered under the intense surge of emotions you felt for this man--love enveloping you entirely, and whether or not he uttered the words, you could sense it--right now, ten minutes ago, and every moment in between.
All you wanted, more than anything, was that he’d hold you tight, and whisper that you’d find a way to be together. But then, his hands fell from your face, wrapping around your shoulders and pulling you back into him. With his lips pressed to your forehead, he whispered,
“I’ve never loved anything, Raven…anyone…I didn’t even know I had a heart until you made it beat.” He murmured, tightening his grip. “Now this heart belongs to you. And I’ll fucking kill every last person that tries to keep you from me…”
You shuddered, breathing him in. “We’ll make it work. We’ll figure it out.”
He hummed, nodding softly, the two of you swaying to the gentle melody, ignoring the cold rain pouring down against your bodies. You weren’t sure how long you’d stood there, minutes, maybe even hours--but as the song came to an end, switching to another, more upbeat one, you smiled, meeting his dark, gleaming eyes.
“I love you, Mattheo.”
He pressed his lips to yours. “I love you, Raven.”
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MATTHEO RIDDLE- Beg For Me
Chapter Seventeen-Info: You and Mattheo have been butting heads for months, since you were assigned as his tutor, and one day during a session full of tense bickering, he has enough.
(This will essentially be a toxic book where we are Theos fucktoy. No love here, very minimal fluff.)
Tags: 18+, DARK THEMES, Sexual Harassment, Asshole!Berkshire, Extreme Depictions of Violence, Blood, SMUT, PIV, Virgin!Reader, Loss of Virginity, Dom!Mattheo, Sub!Reader, Oral Sex, Multiple Orgasm, Dirty Talk, Praise Kink, Degradation Kink.
****FIND THE REST OF THE CHAPTERS HERE.
Emerging from the closet, you and Mattheo shared one more fleetingly charged moment, your eyes locking in a silent exchange laden with unspoken emotions. With a subtle nod, you both returned to your seats, seamlessly slipping back into the roles you had mastered--the poised Ravenclaw and the bad, rebellious Slytherin. The transition was flawless, but beneath the composed exteriors, a storm of emotions raged.
As the game progressed and the night drew on, your eyes locked with Mattheo's from across the circle more times than you could even begin to count--and as the rest of the room remained blissfully unaware, you were acutely attuned to the dance of hidden desires, an intimate connection that thrived in the shadows.
The game of truth or dare continued, growing more wild with each passing round, until most people involved became to tired to continue. In the midst of all of this, Emily and Tom seemed to hit it off, engrossed in their own conversation which seemed to have started before you had even returned from the closet with Mattheo--and as much as the sight was slightly confusing, you were profoundly grateful for the unexpected friendship between them. It undoubtedly relieved the pressure of having to engage with Tom.
As the night wore on, exhaustion settled deep within your bones. Berkshire, thoroughly intoxicated, was gently escorted to his dormitory by Malfoy, his usual disgusting arrogance now replaced by a drunken stumble. Despite the lingering adrenaline from the evening's events, weariness tugged at your limbs, pulling you towards the comfort of your dormitory.
While Emily and Tom remained engrossed in their conversation, you seized the opportunity to excuse yourself quietly. With polite smiles and casual goodnights, you bid farewell to the remaining members of the circle. Each step you took felt heavier than the last, your energy waning with every movement. The echoes of laughter and conversation faded into the distance as you navigated the familiar corridors, the subdued glow of torchlight guiding your way.
Taking a moment to escape the confines of the castle, you stepped into the tranquil courtyard, leaning against the railing and seeking solace under the vast expanse of stars. The night air embraced you, carrying with it a soothing whisper of tranquility. Breathing in deeply, you let the cool breeze wash over you, attempting to shed the lingering tension from your bones after the intense evening you had just endured.
And in the midst of your attempts to find serenity, the peaceful atmosphere shattered like fragile glass, stumbling footsteps making their way toward you. As you glanced over, you watched an inebriated Berkshire stumble his way into the courtyard, bringing himself dangerously close to you, his usual arrogance magnified by the influence of alcohol. His eyes, glazed and unfocused, fixated on you with a disturbing intensity.
"Shit...what do we have here?" he slurred, his words laced with drunken confidence. "A little bird all alone in the night...don't you know it's fuckin' dangerous to be out here all by yourself?"
Your disgust was palpable as you shot him a withering glare. "Save your pathetic lines for someone who cares, Berkshire," you retorted, your voice dripping with disdain. "The only thing dangerous is my dwindling patience at the mere sight of you."
"Why're you such a bitch, huh?" he slurred, his words carrying the stench of alcohol. His proximity was uncomfortably close, his breath hot against your skin. "Must be 'cause you secretly like me, right?"
Your jaw clenched, a mixture of annoyance and disgust bubbling within you. His words were as repugnant as his alcohol-laden breath. The tension you had been trying to relieve was now replaced by a different kind, a sharp pang of frustration at having to deal with his inappropriate behavior.
"I suggest you find your way back to your dorm," you retorted, your voice firm despite the rising irritation. "Your delusions won't make your company any more welcome."
Berkshire's drunken persistence grated on your nerves like nails on a chalkboard, his obnoxious confidence seeming to inflate with every word you uttered. Before you could process it, he closed the distance between you, his movements erratic, invading your personal space. His clammy hand shot up, gripping your jaw with a force that made your teeth clench, forcing your eyes to meet his in a cruel display of dominance.
"Why won't you just admit it, huh?" he slurred, his words punctuated by the reek of alcohol on his breath. His bloodshot eyes bored into yours, his arrogance seemingly impervious to your clear discomfort. "You can't deny the attraction, sweetheart...I see it in the way you look at me when you think no one's watching."
Your patience snapped like a taut rope. Anger flared in your chest, hot and searing. With a swift movement, you pushed his hand away from your face, your voice cutting through the night with icy precision, a steely resolve in your voice that should have been enough to ward off any sane person.
"Let me make this abundantly clear, Berkshire," you said, your tone as sharp as a blade. "There is no secret admiration, no desire, and certainly no fucking attraction. You're nothing more than a nuisance, and I have no patience for your delusions. Now, back the fuck off before you regret testing my tolerance any further."
Despite your unwavering stance, Berkshire's drunken laughter reverberated through the courtyard, a disturbing echo of arrogance undeterred by your resistance. He jeered, taking another step toward you, his movements unsteady but determined. The cold, unforgiving metal of the railing you had been standing in front of pressed into your back as he cornered you, his breath reeking of alcohol and menace.
Panic clawed at your throat, but you refused to show weakness, your eyes meeting his with a defiant glare. "Berkshire, what are you-"
Ignoring your words, he advanced further, backing you up against the railing until there was nowhere left to retreat. Your heart thundered in your chest, the weight of his aggression bearing down on you. And then, in a moment of terror, he grabbed you, his grip surprisingly strong, squeezing tighter than you had ever expected. Your breath caught in your throat as his fingers dug into your arms, pain flaring through your limbs. The situation had escalated far beyond your control, and the realization struck you like a physical blow.
"Let me go," you demanded, your voice strained but resolute, despite the fear tightening your throat. But Berkshire only tightened his grip, his fingers digging into your skin, his drunken gaze wild and unpredictable. "Enzo, fuck, stop..."
"Shut the fuck up," he growled, he breath grazing over your neck as he pressed himself against you. "You're such a fucking-"
Before Berkshire could finish that sentence, a familiar voice--one usually somewhat smooth and composed, cut through the air with a terrifying intensity.
"Berkshire…if you don't get your fucking hands off of her," the threat in his tone was unmistakable, a promise of unspeakable consequences if ignored. "I fucking swear-"
But Berkshire, lost in his drunken rage, remained heedless, his eyes glazed over with a dangerous mixture of anger and entitlement. “Shut up, Riddle…she fucking wants me…”
You caught Mattheo's eyes from over Enzo's shoulder, ones that once held a glimmer of restraint now blazed with an uncontrollable anger that seemed to ignite the air around him. His usual composure shattered, replaced by a raw, primal fury.
In a heartbeat, Mattheo closed the distance between him and Berkshire, his movements fluid and almost supernatural. His hand shot out like a striking serpent, fingers wrapping around Berkshire's throat like an unyielding vice. The grip was tight, a clear message of the danger Berkshire was in.
“I warned you,” he hissed, and with a swift, powerful motion, Mattheo ripped Berkshire off of you, sending him crashing onto the unforgiving stone ground, a stunned gasp escaping his lips upon impact--Mattheo’s throat was shredded with anger as he growled, “I fucking warned you…”
You stood frozen, your lungs burning as you desperately gasped for air, your vision swimming with a heady mix of fear and relief. Mattheo, his eyes ablaze with fury, descended upon Berkshire like a vengeful deity. His arm darted out, fingers clenching Berkshire's collar in one hand while the other transformed into a merciless fist.
“Stay the fuck away from her…you don’t fucking look at her, you don’t even fucking breathe near her…do you fucking understand me?” Mattheo didn’t wait for a response, the first punch landing with a sickening crack, the sound reverberating through the courtyard like a thunderclap. Mattheo jostled Enzo in his grip, practically spitting his words against his face. “No one gets to fucking touch her…no one except me…fucking no one…”
A momentary pause hung in the air, a fleeting heartbeat of stillness, before Mattheo struck again. And again. And again. He was possessed, every punch a release of the pent-up rage that had been simmering beneath the surface, each blow fueled by a primal instinct to protect, to defend, to punish the one who dared to harm you.
Berkshire's face transformed into a grotesque mask of crimson, his features distorted by pain and fear. The courtyard seemed to pulse with the rhythm of Mattheo's anger, the sound of his blows drowned out by the rapid thudding of your heart--and it wasn't until Draco Malfoy, his normally composed demeanor replaced by wide-eyed shock, entered the fray, that Mattheo's onslaught finally came to a halt.
Malfoy, his strength surprising for someone so slender, managed to pull Mattheo off Berkshire, the latter struggling like a wild animal, his rage still burning brightly, his chest heaving with exasperated fury.
"What the fuck happened here?" Theodore dropped to his knees next to his fallen friend, a mixture of concern and disbelief etched on his features as he met your stunned eyes. "Are you okay?"
"I..." you stammered, your voice barely audible, your mind struggling to comprehend the violence that had just unfolded before you. The shock had rendered you speechless, your throat dry and constricted, words caught in the whirlwind of your emotions. "Yes...I'm okay..."
While you attempted to spit out words, Mattheo's heaving form, still seething with raw anger, ripped himself free from Malfoy's hold. With a voice that carried the weight of his fury, he spoke on your behalf, the words sharp and cutting through the air.
"Berkshire thought he could lay his fucking hands on her is what happened," his voice was cold, each word laced with contempt. "After I warned him...I warned him how many fucking times..."
Mattheo's aura, once magnetic and enticing, was now a tempest, an embodiment of wrath that crackled in the air around him. The atmosphere seemed to vibrate with his intensity, as if the very stones beneath your feet could feel his fury. It was a chilling reminder, mostly to you, that beneath the composed facade, there was a force to be reckoned with, a protector who would stop at nothing to shield you from harm--and that thought did inexplicable, disgustingly shameless things to your fucking body.
Draco Malfoy, his usual cool composure momentarily shaken, stepped away from Mattheo, his eyes assessing the situation with a discerning gaze.
"Let's get him to the hospital wing," he suggested to Theodore, his voice cutting through the tension. Nott, too, recognized the need for immediate action, nodding in agreement, before briefly meeting your eyes. "I'm sorry about him...there's no way he hasn't learned his lesson now...fuckin' sorry little prat..."
You nodded in response as the two of them lifted Berkshire, supporting his battered form between them. As they glanced between you and Mattheo, it was as though a silent understanding passed between Draco and Nott. Their glances met, a knowing look shared, acknowledging that there was something more beneath the surface of this situation. They sensed the unspoken connection, the invisible thread that bound you and Mattheo together, but they chose not to pry. Instead, they respected the unspoken boundaries, allowing the complexities of your relationships to remain your own.
Meanwhile, Mattheo turned his attention back to you, his eyes a tumultuous blend of emotions, the storm within him slowly subsiding as he registered the shock lingering in your eyes. With a soft yet determined expression, he stepped closer, his presence becoming a comforting shield against the aftermath of the confrontation that had left both of you shaken.
"Raven, I'm so fucking-" he began, his voice thick with regret and unspoken apologies.
"I'm fine, Mattheo." You cut him off, your heart pounding in your chest, the sight of his breathless, bloodied and dishevelled form doing dangerous things to your cunt--and you knew, more than anything, you just wanted to be alone with him. "Please just take me back to your dorm."
His brows furrowed in confusion, but the desperation in your eyes didn't leave room for questions.
"What-" he started to inquire, but you took a step closer, your neck arching slightly to catch his dark, penetrating gaze.
"Take me back to your dorm," you repeated. "Please."
Upon hearing the raw desperation in your voice, Mattheo nodded, his fingers gently finding yours as he immediately led you down the hall and through the empty corridor to his dorm. The moment he pushed the door open, allowing you to step inside, it felt as though the temperature in the room had increased to a million bloody degrees. The air was thick with unspoken tension, a potent mix of fear, desire, and the undeniable pull that had always existed between you, intensified now by the events of the night.
As you cautiously stepped into his dorm, your eyes were drawn to the familiar sight of the astronomy book lying open on his desk. The memory of the last time you had been in his dorm flashed in your mind--the same book, sitting untouched on his desk, an odd object in the midst of his carefully curated chaos.
"Why do you still have this out?" you questioned, your voice laced with curiosity and a hint of suspicion.
The question hung in the air, laden with unspoken implications. Mattheo hesitated, his stormy eyes locking onto yours in a moment of vulnerability.
"Can't a man indulge in the mysteries of the stars whenever he fancies?" he retorted with a smirk, attempting to deflect the gravity of the situation. His voice carried a hint of playfulness, but the tension beneath the surface was palpable. "Or perhaps stargazing is an art reserved solely for beautiful little ravens, hm?"
"Is it because of me?" Your stare bore into him, a mix of curiosity and suspicion flickering in your eyes. “Is it because of me that you have this book?”
He didn't deny it; instead, after a long, silent moment, he simply nodded, almost impenetrably, his gaze never leaving yours. It was a silent admission, a confession that hung heavy in the charged atmosphere of the room. In that moment, the undeniable pull between you became almost tangible, the invisible thread connecting your hearts growing stronger, defying the boundaries you had desperately tried to impose.
You stepped toward him. "Did you miss me, Mattheo..."
Mattheo met your gaze, his expression enigmatic yet stoic, a mask of his usual arrogance and charm slipping back into place. His silence lingered for a moment, the air thick with unspoken tension.
Then, in a voice that held a depth of emotion he was trying to conceal, he replied, "Maybe I did, Raven..."
You moved closer, the air crackling with need as you closed the distance, your heart pounding in your chest. When you finally stood before him, close enough to feel the heat radiating off his body, you dared to reach out, your fingers brushing against his cheek. His skin was warm, and beneath your touch, you could sense the subtle tremor that betrayed the restraint he was exercising. Your breath caught in your throat as you tilted your head, your lips hovering just millimeters from his.
"Don't be shy, Mattheo..." you murmured, teasing him with your fingers as you trailed over his jawline. "Why don't you show me how much you missed me..."
Mattheo's jaw clenched under your touch, his dark eyes smoldering with an intensity that matched the simmering desire between you. You sighed when his hands, strong and possessive, found their way to your hips, pulling you closer with a magnetic force that left you breathless. His restraint wavered, the barrier between temptation and surrender growing thinner by the second.
"Salazar fucking save me..." Mattheo's voice was a raspy whisper, a plea and a challenge rolled into one, his vulnerability veiled behind a facade of arrogance. "Who the hell are you..."
You leaned in, your lips hovering dangerously close to his, your eyes locking onto his with a daring intensity.
"Sorry to break it to you, Riddle," you purred, your voice a seductive melody that echoed in the charged space between you. "But I'm afraid not even your maker could save you now..." a teasing smile tugged at the corners of your lips, your breath mingling with his. "Better start counting your blessings..."
"Blessings, huh?" Mattheo's lips curved into a half-smirk, his voice low and dangerous, sending a shiver down your spine. "I'd much rather count the seconds until I can taste those sweet fucking lips of yours..."
His words sent a jolt of desire through you, your heart pounding in response to his brazen confidence.
"Gods, you really are a changed man, aren't you?" You murmured, fighting your smirk as his fingers tightened their grip on your hips. "You were never one to wait for permission before..."
"Raven," his voice was a low, raspy whisper, the intensity in his eyes burning brighter. "You're really testing my fucking patience here...and you should know I'm not a patient man..."
Your smirk grew, heat flushing your cheeks, your fingers tracing a tantalizing path along the underside of his jawline, now, teasingly slow.
"Maybe I enjoy testing your limits…maybe I want to see how far I can push you..." you muttered, your voice laced with playful defiance. "Or perhaps I just like watching you squirm, Riddle...perhaps I want to hear you beg for me..."
Mattheo's patience snapped like a taut wire, his eyes narrowing with a mixture of exasperation and desire.
"Look at you, huh...all fucking smug..." he growled, his voice edged with playful frustration as he peered down at you. "You've kept that pussy from me for over two fucking weeks and now you want to tease me like this? Did you forget how bloody fast I can make you crumble for me..."
Your defiant facade began to crack under the intensity of his gaze, a shiver running down your spine.
"Gods, maybe I did..." your voice barely above a whisper, the defiance replaced by a flicker of vulnerability. "Maybe I need you to remind me..."
"Shit...there she is...there's my good fucking girl..." he murmured, his tone a mixture of reverence and desire. "...tell me what you want, Raven..."
A sigh of satisfaction slipped past your lips as his hands tightened their grip, his touch searing into your hips as though he was trying to hang on to his last shreds of willpower. With a trembling voice, you met his dark, penetrating eyes, wetting your lips as you let yourself drown in their depths.
"You," you whispered, your voice a husky admission. "I want you."
He exhaled. "Then fucking have me."
In a whirlwind of desire, his lips crashed onto yours, sending your senses into a frenzy. Your eyelids fluttered shut as both of you inhaled sharply through your noses, trying to catch your breath amidst the electrifying kiss. His hands, strong and possessive, tangled in your hair, pulling you closer with an urgency that matched the racing beat of your heart. Your lips parted in a soft groan of surrender, inviting him in, and his tongue slipped between your teeth with a hunger that bordered on desperation.
His lips moved over yours, claiming every inch as though he needed you to survive, and your fingers found solace in the dark waves of his hair, gripping them tightly. Mattheo responded with a primal sound, a low grunt of satisfaction that resonated between your entwined bodies. With a swift motion, he spun you around, his lips never leaving yours, walking you backwards until the backs of your knees met the edge of his bed. The kiss deepened, his mouth exploring yours with a deliberate slowness, his fingers continuing their sensual dance through your hair, pulling you impossibly closer, melting the space between you.
Mattheo's tongue danced a tantalizing dance inside your mouth before he withdrew, leaving a lingering connection between your lips. In that moment, silence enveloped both of you, rendering you nearly motionless, lost in a whirlwind of emotions, unsure of what to say, think, or do. You felt the undeniable hardness of his arousal pressing against your belly, causing a flicker of anticipation to ignite within you. Your hands instinctively moved towards the hem of your shirt, but he halted you with a gaze as hard as stone.
"No," he said, his voice low and commanding. "Let me."
A flush of scarlet painted your cheeks, but you nodded in silent consent, your throat tight with anticipation. His fingers bunched the fabric of your shirt, lifting it up and off of you. As you raised your arms, granting him permission to undress you further, he completed his task with deliberate care. The fabric landed on the floor with a soft rustle, discarded and forgotten, while his eyes roamed over every newly exposed expanse of your skin.
It was a ritual you knew you’d never tired of, the way he looked at your body as if it was a masterpiece, a gift he hadn't been prepared to receive.
Under the intensity of his gaze, a cascade of warmth flooded through you, your skin tingling with awareness. His hands skillfully moved behind you, unclasping your bra with practiced ease. He pushed it off your shoulders, the fabric gliding down your arms, his fingers skimming over the surface of your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.
He paused for a moment, his eyes meeting yours in a silent question, before gracefully sinking to his knees in front of you. His warm breath ghosted over your belly, holding your stare as to ask for permission before he hooked his thumbs under the rim of your pants and panties, peeling them down your thighs, revealing your sensitive sex to him--inch by torturous inch.
A shiver rippled through your nerves, sending a thrill down your spine as his molten-gold eyes held yours with hunger that seemed to consume everything in its path. His gaze didn't waver for a single moment, even as he expertly removed your shoes and tossed them aside carelessly. As he rose, his palms trailed over the contours of every curve, his touch igniting a trail of electric sensations in their wake. He towered over you, a commanding presence that left you breathless, and one of his hands delicately cupped your face, his thumb tracing the outline of your lower lip with a gentle intensity that sent your heart racing.
"Lie back," he murmured.
Your fingers quivered with anticipation as you nodded, succumbing to the electric tension in the air. Slowly, you eased yourself back onto the mattress, adjusting your position so you could lie flat against the soft bedding.
Mattheo prowled around the perimeter of the bed, his intense gaze scorching your skin, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. Each step he took seemed deliberate, his movements exuding a raw, primal energy. After a moment, he paused, his fingers deftly working on the buttons of his bloodied dress-shirt. With a fluid motion, he peeled off the fabric, revealing the chiseled contours of his chest. His pants followed suit, dropping to the floor until he stood before you in just his boxers.
From this angle, the sight of him made your cheeks flush and your breath hitch in your throat. The raw masculinity and confidence he exuded was both breathtaking and overwhelming, leaving you yearning for more as he loomed over the bed, the outline of his throbbing cock straining the fabric of his boxers doing unspeakable things to your body--the sight of it against the background of hard, tense muscle made you clench, and you bit your lip to hide a moan that was sneaking its way out of your mouth.
And even though you knew he noticed, he said nothing, even as his knee dropped into the mattress, even as he shifted, crawling over you, until he hovered above you, looking more fucking angelic than he ever had before, looking like a man filled with devotion, passion and need.
"Mattheo..." fear was mixing with the pull of lust. You'd never seen him like this. "Matty, I--"
"Shh," he said, pushing a strand of hair away from your temple. "Relax for me, princess..."
You drew in a shaky breath, and nodded--and his lips pressed into yours, plush and wet, before he moved, leading a tingling line of kisses down your cheek, to your jawline, to your neck. Leaning in, he caressed your throat with his warm mouth and you gasped, back arcing into him. In response, Mattheo purred, laying layer after layer of soft, wet marks on your sensitive flesh. One large hand slid down your arm while he kissed his way to your breast, nuzzling his cheek into the valley of your chest before drawing a nipple between his lips.
A cry escaped you, your hips bucking into his abdomen. "Oh, Gods..."
"Shh," he said again. "Relax, angel..."
The nickname he called only made you want to writhe more. Your mind internally fucking screaming with need. Taking a deep breath, you nodded anyway.
"My angel," he repeated, planting slow, soft kisses on your stiffening bud. "My fucking sweet little angel..."
He took your nipple into his mouth again, moaning while he suckled it swollen, his hands painting pleasure on your swathes of naked, aching skin. You whimpered, nibbling on your lip to silence any sound, hands slowly slithering their way through his messy, yet beautiful fucking hair. As you tightened your grip on his strands, a groan slipped past his teeth, and he flicked the tip of your peak with his tongue before releasing it, mouth making a hot trail along your navel, his hands massaging up and down the outside of your thighs.
"You're doing so well," he whispered into your stomach. "You're so fucking beautiful..."
"Matty..." you whined, his words creating a storm of bliss in your chest. You didn't know what else to say.
"Keep being good for me..." he kissed his way to the mound of your pussy, holding a rumble in his chest as his lips grazed the top of your slit. "Are you ready?"
Are you ready? He just fucking asked if you were ready. As you gazed at him, his pink lips glistening with saliva, eyes smoldering with desire, the answer became crystal clear.
"Yes," you said. "Yes, I'm ready."
Without further hesitation, Mattheo lowered his head between your legs, your entire body jolting in pleasure as he licked a broad, flat band up your sex, feeling your fingers twirling in the curls of his hair. His mouth was hot and eager as he showered your folds with deep, heavy kisses, sending shivers of delight throughout your entire being. Mattheo's hands held your thighs in place as he slicked his strong tongue in between your slit, each touch sending waves of pleasure coursing through your core. Your eyes were fixed upon him, unable to look away from the sight of him worshipping your cunt with his mouth.
"You taste incredible," he cooed, leaving soft kisses along the crease of your thighs. "You know that I thought about this little pussy everyday, don't you?"
Your breath hitched. "Y-you did?"
"Mmhm."
He returned to working his tongue along your inner-folds, gathering your juices along the tip, humming while he swallowed--he was deliberate, taking his time to memorize every bit of your pussy, to draw as much cum from your core as he could. You whined, your clit desperate for attention.
"Matty..." you pleaded, "please..."
Mattheo's gaze met yours as he hummed, sealing his lips around your swollen nub. The intensity of the pleasure collided into you, causing a wracking sob to escape your lips as your eyes closed in ecstasy. His grip tightened on your thighs, tugging you closer to his face. As he sucked on your clit, he gradually built up the pressure, block by block, pushing you towards the peak of orgasm.
Your hips relentlessly rolled into him, urgent moans filling the air as you fell further and further toward overwhelming bliss. "Fuck, Mattheo...Gods..."
His hands left your thighs, exploring your body, gripping and kneading any inch of flesh they could find, until they finally rested on your breasts, thumbs tracing small, gentle circles on your hardened nipples.
"Oh, fuck," you said, "fuck, fuck..."
As the intensity of your pleasure peaked, any words leaving your lips devolved into incoherent wailing. You teetered on the edge, straining against a wall of unrelenting bliss that threatened to overtake you completely. Then, with two hard sucks, Mattheo eased you over, drawing out your climax long and slow against his mouth. Ecstasy consumed you, numbing your skin as your limbs shook and trembled. Every sensation was intensified as he pulled you through wave after wave of pleasure, groaning as your juices coated his lips, your core throbbing and pulsing at his chin.
It felt like an eternity before he finally released you, dragging his tongue up the top of your slit as he panted and gasped for breath alongside you. The aftermath of your intense orgasm left both of you struggling to regain your senses.
Your head rolled along the mattress, lids fluttering open, hands petting at his hair. "Fuck, Mattheo...that was..."
"Shh." He licked his lips, gaze liquefying your center, and returned his focus to your belly, kissing a steady path to your sternum, his hands still stroking at your skin. "I need you to know how much I missed everything...and I mean fucking everything..."
"Oh," was all that left your mouth, teeth pinching your lip when it began to tremble.
"From your perfect fucking tits to your filthy little mouth..." one hand started to palm at your breast, the other still gliding up your side as he inched forward. "From those delicious fucking thighs to that pretty little pussy..." he was at your neck, now, rasping into it, the heat of his body enveloping you. "Every inch of you is fucking perfect...fuck the drugs Raven, you are my insatiable goddamn addiction..."
Every syllable that escaped his lips seemed to caress your very soul, igniting a wildfire of longing within you. His words were like a spell, weaving around your heart and wrapping you in a cocoon of desire. You craved him in a way that transcended the physical, a hunger that went bone-deep. It wasn't just the touch of his skin against yours that you yearned for; it was the merging of your essence, the melding of your souls into an ethereal dance of passion. You wanted to dissolve the boundaries between you, to lose yourselves in a realm crafted solely for your bodies, where every touch and sigh was a symphony of fervor.
And as you met his gaze, there it was, in his eyes--an unnamed emotion that pulsed between you, an unspoken truth that bound you together in a way words could never encapsulate. It was a force beyond reason, an irresistible pull that drew you closer, time after fucking time again.
"You once called me a plague but fuck...you have no fucking idea..." his voice, raw with desire, clawed its way out of his throat. "I haven't even fucked you, Raven...how the fuck have you done this to me?"
Your heart skipped a beat, fingers instinctively curling in his hair. "Do you want to?..."
Mattheo hesitated, as if time itself hung suspended. His eyes searched your face, seeking the truth in your words, and then, he answered, his voice a low rasp,
"Of course I do..." he breathed. "But after what happened tonight-"
"No," you cut him off, your body moving restlessly beneath his. "After what happened tonight, I only want you more...I've never fucking wanted you so fucking badly, Mattheo...it was you who defended me, not Tom, not Zabini, you...it's always been you..."
Mattheo's jaw tensed, his eyes darkening, his chest heaving. "You want me to fuck you..." he said, as though he was trying to make himself believe it. "You want me to take your virginity..."
You nodded, a silent confirmation of your desire, but Mattheo's fingers found their way to your jaw, his touch surprisingly gentle, yet firm. He held your gaze, his eyes searching yours for any hesitation, any uncertainty.
"Say it, Raven," he murmured, his voice low and commanding. "You know I need to hear you say it. Tell me you want me to take your virginity."
Your breath caught in your throat, his proximity overwhelming your senses. With a shaky inhale, you met his intense gaze, your voice coming out as a mere whisper, "I want you to take my virginity, Mattheo."
"Fucking hell..." he breathed, the desire in his tone making your core scream. "You know that means-"
"I'm yours." You cut him off. "Even though all of this could fuck up my entire future, I don't care...I'm yours...I submit my sanity to the disaster that is sneaking around with you, Mattheo...I don't want the safe option, I don't want soft or subtle...I want dangerous, I want messy, I want sins...I fucking want you..."
"Salazar fucking save me..." he breathed after a long moment of staring at you, shifting himself to pull down his boxers, his throbbing cock springing free, smacking against his belly. "You really are a little fucking devil..."
You clenched at the sight of his dick, head glistening with precum, twitching insistently as he shifted, looping an arm under your neck and cradling your head, his face nestling into your neck while his other hand directed the head of his dick against your wet folds, slicking itself along your wetness, your entire body tensing at the foreign sensation.
He was so fucking big...you weren't sure if, "are you even going to fit...you're so fucking-"
"Shh, Raven." Mattheo huffed against your neck, angling back to meet your eyes, that devilish smirk plastered across his lips. "I'll make it fit."
At his words, you clenched again, unable to deny the intoxication of his primal arrogance, his eyes fixed on your face as he angled himself at your core now, the anticipation radiating off of him only fuelling your hunger, sending thrills through every inch of your body.
"Relax," he breathed, eyes boring into yours, the hand behind your head keeping you in place. "And look at me...I want you looking into my fucking eyes as you feel yourself stretching out for me..."
With a nod, you held his stare, and slowly, deliberately, he pushed himself inside of you, inch by inch, letting you gasp and wince while his thick length stretched you open, until he was fully sheathed within your tightness. The sensation was overwhelming, stretching you to your limit, beyond anything you ever thought possible, and Mattheo only seemed to grow harder with each gasp that left your lips. With him completely seated inside of your cunt, you felt him pulsing at the hilt, felt his already urgent need to cum inside of you. But instead of moving right away, he jerked you closer to his chest, his lips softly grazing yours as he brought his hand to cup your jaw.
"Are you okay?" His voice was torn, shredded, nearly unrecognizable.
You nodded, holding his eyes. "I'm okay."
"Shit, Raven..." a deep groan left his chest as he exhaled, pulling out and plunging back in as slowly and carefully as he had the first time. "You're so fucking tight...fuck..."
You mewled--between the passion in your chest and the newfound sensations between your legs, your head was spinning, something was close to bursting. His skin was so hot against you, and you gripped him tighter, another moan leaving your chest, chin shaking beyond your control, the pleasure and pain commingling in your mind as you surrendered to his skilled touch--Mattheo stared at you through it all with gleaming eyes before he smothered your lips with a kiss, burning and short.
"Is this what you wanted?" The low thunder of his voice melted in your ears, and he murmured your name. "Tell me..."
Your fingers dug into his skin, your voice torn between gasps. "Yes, Mattheo..." you mewled. "It's all I've wanted."
He leaned forward, lips feathersoft on yours, kissing you, still easing his cock into you with careful rolls of his hips. The grip at your head soothed your scalp--and you could feel it, could feel yourself blending with his body as he pushed deeper and deeper inside of you, could feel your pulses pounding in pace, could feel the unspoken, intangible harmony coiling in your blood.
"Who else can make you feel like this, hm?" His embrace constricted you, now, stilling you while he rocked deep into you, stuffing you full, his free hand travelling down your belly, grazing over your clit--and you choked, whimpered, limp in his arms. "Tell me who this tight little pussy fucking belongs to..."
The pleasure was overwhelming, earth shattering, entirely all encompassing. Your lids fluttered, your brain spinning. "Oh, Gods...oh my fucking-"
"Look at me, Raven..." he ordered, voice torn. "Look at me or I'll stop."
Reluctantly, you opened your eyes, nails biting into his skin, heart pounding in your throat as you felt your sanity dangerously fucking close to shattering, your entire body encompassed in a pleasure that you've never known, a pleasure that only Mattheo fucking Riddle could give you, one that burns you from the inside out, one that shatters every inch of your resolve, leaving you bare before him.
"Tell me..." he whispered, his fingers twirling your clit. You could tell he was close, too. "Fuck...fucking say it…”
"You," you mewled, lost in the melted chocolate swirls of his irises. "It fucking belongs to you, Mattheo...fuck...only you..."
"Shit..." he groaned your name, sucking at your shoulder, tongue leaving hot lines on your neck. "You love being dirty for me..." his fingers whirled your clit faster. "You love being my nasty little slut, don't you?"
"Yes, yes, Mattheo..." you wailed, body trembling beneath him. "I love it..."
"Fuck--" A feral kiss bruised your lips, his cock splitting you with long thrusts. "That's it..." he muttered your name against your mouth. "Cum--cum for me, let me feel you..."
You shattered. "Gods--Matty! Fuck..."
Euphoria rended you wide, tearing at the seams of your sanity, and you fractured, convulsing with the sheer strength of your climax. Your walls spasmed around his dick, milking him hard, and Mattheo held you, mouth meeting yours as he came, hips hitting you with every rush of rapture as he quickly followed after you, spilling his release inside your cunt. This seemed to last for minutes, the aftershocks of bliss rippling through your bodies at once while you remained there catching breath, still connected.
You were wilted, spent, a collection of skin and cum and sweat, and when Mattheo finally pulled out, he slumped down on the mattress beside you, pulling you back into his chest, nothing but the collective sounds of your exhausted panting filling the air, neither of you willing to move even though you knew you couldn't stay here all night--but your drooping lids didn't care, your body succumbing to slumber without giving you a choice.
And as you drifted off, you couldn’t help but question how a boy who once had been the bane of your fucking existence, had now become the centre of it.
———————-
Find eighteen here->
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