good friends don’t fuck their best friend’s enemy ( unless the enemy gets a taste of them first ) . . . 𓆩♡𓆪
pairing :: ㅤm!riddle x f!reader x p!parkinson.
content :: everyone is 18+ MDNI. mentions of sexual content, reader likes both boys and girls. honestly just made this ‘cause i want mattheo and pansy tbh. the quidditch team has cheerleaders for every house.
♫ — 𝐌𝐘 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄 𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ❝ bad, bad news one of us is gonna lose. i’m the powder, you’re the fuse ❞ wc :: 2.1k+
There are a lot of beautiful girls at Hogwarts. They’re so pretty in their tiny skirts and cute little button-up shirts. It’s a shame their legs are covered by those stupid robes most of the time, but once it gets too hot and they take them off? Oh, Mattheo could just faint at the thought. That sounds way too dramatic to be true, but he’s a hundred percent. Don’t even get him started if Hogwarts blesses him with a rainy day and it soaks through the girls’ blouses until everyone can see what bra they picked that morning. And don’t let it be midday; he specifically says midday, ‘cause that’s when the Quidditch cheerleaders are at practice. More specifically, one Ravenclaw cheerleader in particular.
Who he may or may not have been watching at practice one day. He was totally there for Pansy, by the way, and for sure didn’t get a slap to the side of the head from her when she caught him watching you instead. That was the day he learned about you and Pansy’s girl rivalry or whatever the fuck. He honestly didn’t know girls could have rivalries in cheerleading the same way the boys do in Quidditch. Anyway, Pansy told him that the cute little Ravenclaw he’d been eye-fucking from where he stood wasn’t so cute after all. You had fucked Pansy’s boyfriend, so she fucked your guy best friend, and blah blah blah-- more drama.
Mattheo then proceeded to ask how that made you any less cute, and she slapped him on the chest, saying, “Ugh. You men just think with your dicks,” before rolling her eyes and walking back over to her team.
Can she blame him? You’re just so fuckin’ sexy. The things he could do, the things he wants to do. Ugh. Why does Pansy have to have this annoying shit going on with you? And why does he have to be a part of it?
“Fuck you mean?” Pansy huffs, passing the blunt to Enzo. This motherfucker! “You’re one of my best friends, and if Draco told me he wanted to push his dick inside that bitch, I’d have the same reaction!” Well, fuck him. Genuinely fuck him, because the one person he wants to fuck right now isn’t an option.
“That’s your girl shit! Between you two. The hell does that have to do with me?” Pansy wants to throw the drink in her hands straight at his face. He might need to take a break from the smoking and drinking if it’s making him this dumb. Did what she just said go in one ear and right out the other? Does she really need to dumb it down for his horny-ass brain to process?
She’s just trying to get high and drunk with her friends, trying to forget about the slut she hates a few feet away. Of course, Mattheo just can’t go a minute without trying to get in her pants. Pansy thinks he wants to more than she tells him not to. It’s pissing her off-- he’s not acting like her friend right now. Oh, fuck. Is this what she gets for having men as her best friends? Can’t keep shit in their pants?
“Think of it like this. Who do you hate? Oh yeah. Imagine it’s Pucey. You’ve competed with him most of your life, whether you like it or not, ‘cause your parents see him as this cute little angel who can do no wrong. They compare everything you’ve got to him. Not only do you find out that what you’re doing is so little compared to him that it already makes you feel like shit, but then you find out he fucked your girl. Now tell me straight to my face. wouldn’t you lose your shit if I came up to you and said I wanted to have sex with the same person who’s already gotten everything they want, including one of your very own fucking best friends?”
She crosses her arms over her chest and slumps back against the couch. Enzo, sitting next to her, throws an arm around her shoulders with the hand that isn’t holding the blunt for comfort. The Slytherins host a party, and at least a handful of people from every house show up-- including a specific Ravenclaw cheerleader Pansy wishes didn’t, and Mattheo clearly manifested would. But now that you’re here, he can’t do what he wanted to do anymore.
“Yeah, I would’ve hated it if one of my best friends fucked my enemy. Sorry, Mattheo, gotta side with Pans,” Enzo shrugs, leaning his head toward Pansy. She happily pats his head against her shoulder, only to snatch what’s between his fingers, causing him to grumble at being tricked.
Mattheo doesn’t remember asking for his input. “Thank you, fuckface, for the opinion nobody asked for,” he rolls his eyes. Enzo throws a smile his way, a dimpled smile that could have any girl on their knees, but Mattheo knows damn well it’s mocking. He needs a drink and a girl, specifically one who’s not you, to take to his dorm and handle this frustration he’s feeling from seeing that damn skirt on you. He can’t do anything about it, despite wanting to so badly.
Ugh. Why does he have to be a good friend first?
“Berkshire! You cocksuckin’- shit! Why the fuck did you wear my shoes with no fucking socks?” Blaise angrily stomps over and throws his shoes at Enzo’s head. “Now they fuckin’ stink!”
That’s Mattheo’s cue to leave. He walks toward all the alcohol and drinks. He’s seen a lot of people mix different bottles into one, so he decides to do the same. But once he tips the cup back, with his thumb and index finger circling the rim, the liquid immediately makes him grimace. He throws the cup to the ground. That tasted like ass.
He scans the room of people; some are having fun. He wishes he were one of them. He rolls his eyes for what feels like the hundredth time before grabbing another drink, just to go sit back down where his friends are. But that same drink gets squished between his and someone else’s chest. Someone ran into him. Great.
“Shit! I’m so sorry-” His black shirt is now drenched, liquor running down his arms to his fingers and sliding off onto the floor. He doesn’t seem to care that much about it, though. Your own top is soaked, and an alarmed look on your beautiful face shows you’re genuinely not seeing where you’re going.
Mattheo stares dead at your face before his gaze drifts downward, pausing on your chest. The liquid slides between your tits, soaking the damn skimpy shirt that makes your nipples look so hard it takes all of Mattheo’s self-control not to grab you and push all the drinks off the table just to place you there and take you right then and there for everyone to see. “I swear I couldn’t see where I was walking. It’s kinda dark in here,” you say. He drags a hand down his face, fighting the urge. As much as he wants to touch you, he can’t.
“It’s fine.” Without another look at you, he turns and, very frustrated, grabs the girl who was flirting with him earlier. He starts making his way up the stairs, ignoring the raised eyebrow Pansy throws his way. It’s her fault he can’t do shit with you! He needs to relieve himself somehow.
He doesn’t know why he can’t just fuck you and then pretend you’re dirt under his shoe-- something Pansy should care less about. He’s so confused as to why she’s so set on nobody touching you. Yes, you fucked her boyfriend; wouldn’t fucking her best friend be better? But Mattheo gets his answer a couple of days later. When Ravenclaw beats Slytherin, he goes to check if Pansy’s taking the loss well.
Daphne said Pansy went into the changing rooms to grab her pom-poms that she left behind. It’s only her in there, and she only went to get them. She’s already dressed and everything, so he could go inside.
“What? That mouth suddenly can’t talk anymore shit?” Pansy breathed, her soft fingers snaking over your nipples, circling the peaks with her thumb. Your ass was pressed up against the benches infront of the showers. She stood between your legs, her blue eyes smouldering into yours. So beautiful you are, she thought. No wonder not even your own enemy could keep her hands off of you.
“Fuck you, c..cunt,” You say, a loud moan escaping your lips. Holy fuck. “You’re just mad you lost,” You managed to get out, furrowing your brows. How is she so good at this?
“Mmm,” Pansy hummed for a second, slowly pulling her tongue out of you to kiss along the inside of your thighs. “Yeah. I’m mad.” She began. You tried to focus on what she was saying, though your eyes dared to shut as her soft lips brushed your inner thighs. “If only there were a cute ol’ravenclaw to let my anger out on.”
A shaky moan left your swollen lips, and you twitched on the bench as Pansy darted her tongue around your clit. “As if I would let you do anything else to me,” you lied horribly, though when she began sucking on your bud, your jaw hung open as you became fully at her mercy. The wind from one of the windows brushed your hair out of your beautiful, sweaty face. Everything feels too good all at once. You began rolling your hips against her, desperate for more.
“You sure?” Pansy continued, flicking her tongue and sucking on your clit. She brought her hands up under your cheer uniform. Since you were at the end of the bench, your back was arched into her hands, which made her hands grab around the bud of your nipples between her thumb and pointer finger to squeeze over and over.
“I’m s- Parkinson. Shit.” Your eyes fluttered completely shut, hitting the back of your head against the bench, arching in the air, her hands still on your breast, pinching. You kept rolling your hips for more.
“Can I say something?’ Pansy asked. You felt the cold tip of her fingers stroke inside your opening. You felt yourself clench around that single finger she slipped in, your mouth agape as she continued to thrust inside you, all while kissing the inside of your thighs. “I want you to answer me.” She thrust her finger deeper, adding another. You moaned louder, whipping your head against the bench as she curled at just the sweetest spot, drool almost dripping down your lips.
“Oh! Uhm- Yes..” You whimpered. Damn, that good? “Fuck.”
She mumbled it, and you tried to hear what she said, but it was so low that you didn’t understand a word. You began speaking. “What? I don’t…” Your mouth paused, gasping as Pansy pulled out her finger and put one leg over your shoulder, your knee hitting your collarbone before immediately attaching her mouth to your clit.
A very sweet, pleasant haze clouded your fucked up mind and vision. Her tongue thrusting between your walls had you gripping her bob of hair with force. Every inch of your skin was on fire, your thighs quivering as she thrusted her tongue into you. She was relentless, your body rocking on the bench due to her movements. Lust was at its ultimate peak with every delicious thrust of her pink tongue.
Though just as you were about to come all over her pretty face, she immediately pulled away. The sweet knot in your stomach disappeared just as quickly as it came. You frowned, whining, “Noooooo. Why did you-”
“I said you could've at least made yourself known, asshole,” Pansy calls out. You look around in horror, quickly pushing your skirt down before glaring at the smirking Parkinson. Mattheo steps out from the showers, shaking his head at the two of you. He looks at Pansy like she has three heads. She doesn't, but she did use one to give you the craziest orgasm you've ever had before she stopped. “What?” Pansy shrugs. “Don't look at me like that. I just wanted to see what everyone was seeing in her.” Safe to say she gets it now.
She pushes herself up from the floor with a satisfied smile, turning to Mattheo, who looks beyond pissed. She gets to touch you, but he can't? How the fuck?
Her next words answer his question. “Oh, and yeah, now you can fuck her.” She gestures toward your flustered self. You instantly feel self-conscious under their stares. You're, like, almost naked. “Will be hard to beat how good she was for me, though.” Pansy bumps her shoulder against Mattheo's with a huge smile before walking out. Mattheo stares at you with wide eyes.
Does Pansy really think he's going to get her sloppy seconds?
Judging by the way you slowly begin lifting your skirt & spreading your legs for him. Yeah. She most definitely does, and he most definitely will.
