nerd!mattheo's biggest weakness is angel!reader's "puppy dog eyes"
requested by @arabicgfoccurgxurstst | thank you for the request <3 i hope this is what you had in mind !!
cw: slight mentions of underage drinking and partying but no real depictions!
masterlist
Disciplined, stoic and strong-willed. These are three adjectives that Mattheo Riddle undoubtedly is.
He’s disciplined. He sticks to a strict routine and schedule, sets high goals for himself and stops at nothing to achieve them. The reason why he's so secretly jacked (as you would, and have, put it) is because in first year, he read that exercising improved academic performance and he hasn't stopped since — consistency, he's big on that too.
He’s stoic. He doesn’t let anything affect him, not anymore. Not the judgemental stares he gets when he’s dressed in a blazer or a nice, ironed polo shirt at a party he reluctantly followed Theo to. He can ignore the worst of whispers that follow him. He can easily write a detention slip for someone without batting an eye and he can destroy someone in a chess game without so much of a quirk of his mouth.
He is strong willed. There’s not much to say about this one, he just is. Mattheo Riddle is an unmovable force by all means.
But since becoming friends with you, he has become less and less these things.
He will occasionally skip his usual morning routine — balanced-protein-shake-breakfast, hour long run, shower, get ready for school — just so that he can maybe see you in the Great Hall during breakfast.
As soon as he opens his mouth to talk to you, he switches from being the stoic and cold class president to a stuttering, fumbling, blushing mess.
But no matter how pathetic he is about you, he is strong willed — no matter what you say or do.
“Come on, Mattheo, please.” You say and, even though he’s pointedly looking away from you, determined to not let the sight of you distract and persuade him, he can feel you everywhere.
Your perfume floats around him and causes his (normally sharp) head to spin, your voice is honey-like in his ear and your hand is on his arm.
He attempts to placate you, his voice soft and unsteady, “I really have to study.”
“But you know all the material already.” You insist, smiling as you tap his head with your nail lightly. “It’s in that big, beautiful brain of yours forever, it’s not leaving.”
He tries not to let what you're saying go to his head. You're just teasing to get what you want. He repeats it over and over in his head. You're just flirting to get what you want. Fuck, it's working. He shakes his head.
“Still, there are procedures I have to go through to ensure my understanding of the material is in depth enough and, I still need to complete at least two more past papers and review my notes and—”
He stops himself when he realises he’s rambling. Not that you seem to mind, you’re looking at him like he's saying the most fascinating things. He looks away quickly before continuing.
“I just really can’t go to the party tonight, I’m sorry.” He says, and he really is sorry. He hates nothing more than disappointing you.
“I understand.” You say, smiling kindly. You’re not mad at him and it makes him relax, he thinks that maybe he’s off the hook.
“But it would mean the world to me if you’d stay for just an hour.” You say.
He feels his resolve slipping but he forces himself to toughen up. Strong-willed, remember?
“I won’t stay long anyway. I don’t feel like drinking lately and it’s no fun talking to anyone else sober.”
He finds that hard to believe. Not your sudden desire for sobriety — you were so hungover after your last party that you wore sunglasses for half the day, clutched his arm and begged him to “make the room stop spinning”.
He’s having trouble believing that you wouldn’t be able to find someone else at the party to hang off your every word within the hour. He’s sure even the worst of alcoholics would be willing to be sober for a night just to spend time with you.
As tempting as the thought is — getting to see you in a pretty party dress, listening to you talk his ear off about whatever you wanted, maybe walking you back to your dorm — he knows he can’t go to this party with you. For the sake of his academics and his self worth, to know that he’s still Mattheo Riddle and he’s not completely weakened by you.
He’s still not looking at you, no matter how much he wants to. He pretends to busy himself with the worksheet in front of him.
“How do you know that I wouldn’t drink.” He protests weakly, you laugh. He relishes the sound.
“Before your big test?” You tease, “You wouldn’t.”
You’re right and he hates that he’s so predictable to you.
“Our test.” He reminds you gently, you ignore him.
“Please, Mattheo, I’ll do anything.” Your hand on his arm travels back and forth, smoothening the fabric of his blazer. It takes everything in him not to shudder as he reminds himself to relax his bones.
Your hand reaches his shoulder and just rests there, he finally turns his head to look at your face.
His eyes meet yours — big mistake — and he finds his breath catching in his throat, as usual. You’re so close, he can see the small specks of glitter in the blue eyeshadow that surrounds your eyes.
Your lips are curled into the smallest of pouts, your eyebrows are slightly furrowed and your eyes — god, your eyes.
They’re rounder than usual and they look so sad, so pleading. His heart speeds up, he can feel it.
“Please.” You murmur and, really, it’s your voice that breaks him.
“I… can’t, I have to— uh…” He’s floundering, he knows it and so do you. He sighs.
“I’ll go with you.” He relents and your entire face lights up. He decides for that reason alone, it's worth it.
“Really?” You cheer and, this should be his chance to back out, but he just nods.
Weak.
“Yeah, but just for an hour!" He rushes to say, knowing it’s futile and if you wanted him to stay forever, he would.
You squeal, throwing your arms around him, resting your head in the crook of his neck. “Thank you!”
This time, he freezes and stiffens. If you notice, you don’t show it nor do you pull away.
“I love you.” You say and he’s glad you don’t mean it for real or he’s certain his heart would explode, he can feel himself growing hot as is. “You’re an angel.”
“Hardly.” He says back weakly.
So, Mattheo Riddle is strong-willed, sure.
But when an unstoppable force is met with an unmovable object, the unstoppable force is bound to win.
Especially if the unstoppable force is a party girl with pretty eyes.
i kind of hate this one... but i had fun writing it!!
Summary : After agreeing to a three month separation, Mattheo insists he’s perfectly fine without her. Unfortunately for him, everyone else knows he’s lying.
I absolutely love writing Mattheo as a cinnamon roll-lover boy
——————————————————
The Slytherin common room was quieter than usual that evening, the green tinted fire crackling low in the hearth.
Most students had scattered to the library or their dorms, leaving only a handful of them.
Mattheo Riddle slouched in the high backed armchair opposite the largest leather sofa, legs kicked out, arms crossed, chin tucked against his chest.
He hadn’t spoken more than three sentences all day.
Draco Malfoy lounged on the arm of the sofa, flipping idly through a potions journal he wasn’t really reading.
Theodore Nott sat cross legged on the floor beside the coffee table, pretending to organize a deck of Exploding Snap cards while actually watching Mattheo like one watches a wounded animal.
“You miss her?” Draco finally asked, voice light but pointed.
Mattheo’s jaw tightened. “No.”
Theo snorted without looking up. “You’ve been whiny for weeks, mate. Insufferable, really.”
“I have not,” Mattheo snapped, but the pout was already forming, tugging at the corner of his mouth. He looked smaller somehow, shoulders hunched, eyes shadowed. “I’m absolutely fine.”
The words sounded ridiculous even to him.
Behind the sofa hidden in the deep shadow where the firelight didn’t quite reach, you pressed your lips together to keep from laughing.
You’d slipped through the portrait hole ten minutes earlier, travel cloak still dusted with apparition soot, heart hammering.
Theo had spotted you first, eyes widening before a slow, wicked grin spread across his face.
Draco had followed a heartbeat later, mouthing “stay down” before casually steering the conversation toward Mattheo.
You waited.
Draco tilted his head. “You sure? Because the last time someone asked how you were, you nearly hexed the fifth year who dared speak to you.”
“I’m fine,” Mattheo repeated, quieter this time. The pout deepened. “She’s only been gone two months. It’s not even… it’s not a big deal.”
Theo raised an eyebrow. “Two months, eleven days. Not that you’re counting.”
Mattheo glared at the fire.
That was your cue.
You rose slowly, silently, until you were standing just behind the back of the sofa. Mattheo still hadn’t noticed, his gaze was fixed on the flames like they owed him something.
You cleared your throat, soft.
“Alright then,” you said, voice warm and teasing. “If you don’t miss me at all… I’ll just go back.”
Mattheo froze.
Two seconds. Three.
His head snapped up.
Dark eyes met yours.
For a heartbeat he didn’t move, didn’t breathe, like his brain was rebooting.
Then he was moving.
He launched out of the chair so fast the cushions fell. Long legs cleared the coffee table in one stride; he vaulted over the back of the sofa like it wasn’t even there.
The next second he crashed into you, arms locking around your waist, face buried in the crook of your neck, so hard you stumbled back a step before he caught you.
He was shaking.
You felt it in the way his fingers dug into your back, the way his breath hitched against your skin.
“You’re here,” he whispered, voice cracking. “You’re…..you’re really here.”
You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, fingers threading into his curls. “Surprise.”
He pulled back just enough to look at you, really look, palms sliding up to cradle your face like you might vanish if he didn’t hold on tight enough. His thumbs brushed your cheekbones, eyes glassy, searching every inch of you as though memorizing you all over again.
Then the tears spilled.
Not dramatic sobs, just quiet, helpless ones that made your own eyes sting.
“I missed you,” he choked out, voice small and childish and so unlike the Mattheo everyone else knew. “I missed you so fucking much. I hated it. I hated every second. Don’t…don’t ever do that again. I’m not letting you go anywhere. Ever.”
Behind you, Draco barked a laugh. “Merlin, he’s gone soft.”
Theo stood, smirking. “Told you he was lying.”
They didn’t wait for a reply. Draco clapped Theo on the shoulder and the two of them slipped out through the dungeon corridor, leaving the common room empty except for the low hiss of the fire and the two of you tangled together.
Mattheo didn’t even glance after them.
He just kept staring at you, thumbs still stroking your cheeks, like he needed constant proof.
You reached up, brushing the tear tracks away with your fingertips, then pressed soft kisses along his jaw, his cheekbones, the corner of his mouth, light, fluttering, everywhere you could reach.
He let out a shaky breath.
Then you kissed him properly.
Deep. Slow. Desperate.
His hands slid into your hair, tilting your head so he could take more, taste more, convince himself you weren’t a dream. When you finally broke apart you were both breathless, foreheads pressed together, noses brushing.
You smiled against his lips.
“So…” you murmured, teasing. “You don’t miss me at all, huh?”
Mattheo groaned, half laugh, half sob.
“Shut up,” he muttered, but there was no heat in it. He only pulled you closer, arms banding around you like iron. “I’m never letting you out of my sight again.”
And then, without another word, he twisted.
The familiar pull of apparition sucked the air from your lungs.
When the world steadied again you were in his dorm room.
Door already locked behind you.
Curtains drawn.
Just the two of you.
He didn’t let go.
Not even for a second.
The room still smelled faintly of cedar and old parchment, Mattheo’s scent, the one that had clung to your pillow for weeks after you left.
The four poster bed was unmade, sheets twisted like he’d spent most nights fighting sleep. A half empty bottle of firewhisky sat on the nightstand next to a crumpled letter you recognized as yours, the edges worn from being read too many times.
He hadn’t let go of you yet.
Even after the apparition settled, his arms stayed locked around your waist, face pressed so hard into the side of your neck you could feel the rapid flutter of his pulse against your skin. You stood in the middle of the room, travel bag still slung over one shoulder, cloak hanging crooked.
“Mattheo,” you murmured, half laughing, half breathless. “I’m not going anywhere. You can breathe.”
He shook his head against you small, stubborn, childlike.
“No,” he mumbled into your collarbone. “Not letting go. Not yet.”
You felt the tremor in his shoulders again, quieter this time, but still there. The tears had stopped, but his lashes were wet when he finally lifted his head. Up close like this you could see everything he’d tried to hide from everyone else: the dark circles, the way his eyes were red rimmed, the faint tremble in his lower lip he couldn’t quite control.
He looked wrecked.
And he looked like he was finally allowing himself to fall apart now that you were here to catch him.
You reached up, cupped his face with both hands. He leaned into the touch like a cat starved for warmth.
“I cut the trip short because I couldn’t stand it anymore either,” you admitted softly. “Every owl from Pansy said you were getting worse. Theo sent me a howler last week actually threatened to hex me if I didn’t come back soon. Said you nearly set the greenhouse on fire during Herbology because someone mentioned long distance relationships don’t work.”
Mattheo huffed a watery laugh that didn’t reach his eyes.
“Was an accident,” he muttered. “Mostly.”
You brushed your thumbs under his eyes, wiping away the last traces of tears.
“Liar.”
He swallowed hard. “I kept thinking what if you decided you liked it better there? What if you met someone who didn’t come with… all of this?” He gestured vaguely at himself at the shadows under his eyes, at the reputation that followed the name Riddle like smoke. “What if three months turned into six? Or forever?”
Your heart twisted.
You slid your fingers into his hair, tugging gently until he met your gaze.
“I hated every second I wasn’t with you,” you told him. “The food tasted wrong. The bed was too big. I kept waking up reaching for you and panicking when you weren’t there. I came back two weeks early because I was going insane without you, you absolute menace.”
His mouth twitched, almost a smile, but still too fragile.
“You’re the menace,” he whispered. “Leaving me like that.”
“I know.” You leaned in, pressed your forehead to his. “I’m sorry.”
He closed his eyes at the contact, breathing you in like you were oxygen after drowning.
“Don’t apologize,” he said roughly. “Just… don’t do it again. Please.”
You kissed the corner of his mouth. Then the other corner. Then the faint scar above his eyebrow. Slow. Deliberate. Like you were mapping every inch of him to prove you were staying.
“I won’t,” you promised between kisses. “Not without you.”
That seemed to break something in him.
He made a small, wrecked sound and crushed you against him again lifting you clean off the floor this time, your legs wrapping instinctively around his waist. He carried you the three steps to the bed and dropped down onto it with you still in his arms, both of you tumbling into the mess of blankets.
He didn’t stop touching you.
Fingers in your hair. Palm sliding under your shirt to press flat against the small of your back. Nose buried in the curve of your shoulder. Lips brushing your pulse point over and over like he was counting your heartbeats to make sure they were real.
You curled around him just as tightly, legs tangled, hands roaming relearning the shape of his shoulders, the dip of his spine, the way his breath hitched when you kissed the spot just below his ear.
Minutes passed like that. Maybe longer. Time felt slippery.
Eventually he pulled back just enough to look at you again really look. His expression was soft in a way no one else ever got to see: open, unguarded, a little scared still.
You smiled, tracing the line of his jaw with your fingertip.
He caught your hand, pressed a kiss to the center of your palm. Then another. Then he turned it over and kissed each knuckle, slow and reverent.
“I cried,” he admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “First week. Alone. Like a fucking child. Didn’t tell anyone.”
Your throat tightened.
“I know,” you whispered back. “Pansy told me. Said you pretended it was allergies when Blaise asked why your eyes were red.”
He groaned, mortified, and buried his face in your neck again.
“Kill me now.”
You laughed softly, carding fingers through his curls.
“Never.”
He stayed like that for a long moment face hidden, breathing you in then shifted so he could see you properly. One hand came up to cradle the side of your face.
“I love you,” he said. Simple. Raw. Like the words had been clawing at his throat for months. “So fucking much it hurts. Don’t ever leave me thinking I’m not enough again.”
Tears pricked your own eyes this time.
“I love you too,” you answered, voice cracking. “And you’re more than enough. You always have been.”
He kissed you then slow, deep, aching. Not desperate anymore. Just… home.
When you finally pulled apart, both of you were smiling, small, shaky, but real.
He tucked you against his chest, chin resting on top of your head, arms banded around you like he could physically keep the world from taking you away again.
“Stay,” he murmured into your hair.
You pressed a kiss over his heart.
“Always.”
He exhaled a long, trembling sound of relief and held you tighter.
Neither of you moved for the rest of the night.
Just breathing. Touching. Whispering stupid, soft things into the dark until sleep finally took you both.
Together.
Where you belonged.
The first thing you registered upon waking was warmth too much of it, cocooned around you like a living blanket.
Mattheo had you completely enveloped: one arm slung possessively across your waist, the other tucked under your head like a pillow, legs tangled so thoroughly with yours that moving would require a full strategic retreat.
His face was buried in the crook of your neck, slow steady breaths fanning across your collarbone. Soft snores every few minutes. Peaceful. Almost innocent.
You shifted just a fraction and his grip tightened instantly, instinctive, like even in sleep he refused to let an inch of space form between you.
A tiny, involuntary smile tugged at your lips.
Sunlight slanted through the narrow window slits high on the dungeon wall, painting thin gold stripes across the dark green hangings of his four poster.
The room still smelled like last night: cedar, firewhisky, the faint salt of tears, and the two of you.
You stayed like that for a while, tracing idle patterns on his bare back with your fingertips, feeling the rise and fall of his breathing. Eventually his lashes fluttered. A low, sleepy groan vibrated against your throat.
“Mm. Don’t move,” he mumbled, voice gravel-rough with sleep. “Five more minutes.”
“You said that an hour ago,” you whispered, amused.
“Liar.” He nuzzled closer, lips brushing your pulse. “You’re warm. Stay.”
You laughed softly. “I’m not going anywhere, you clingy octopus.”
He huffed, but the corner of his mouth curved up. Then finally he cracked one eye open. Dark curls a disaster. Cheeks still faintly flushed from sleep. He looked at you like you were the first good thing he’d seen in months.
“Morning,” he rasped.
“Morning, baby.”
That single word seemed to melt whatever was left of his defenses. He rolled you both so you were underneath him, forearms bracketing your head, weight carefully held so he didn’t crush you. Then he just… looked. Minutes of it. Like he was afraid blinking would make you vanish.
“You’re really here,” he said.
You reached up, smoothed his hair back. “Still here.”
He dropped his forehead to yours. Closed his eyes. Exhaled like he’d been holding the breath for eighty three days.
Then he kissed you slow, lazy, morning-soft. No urgency this time. Just gratitude. Relief. Home.
You were still tangled and kissing when the door banged open.
“Oi, Riddle! You alive in there or did you finally hex yourself into oblivion last ni…oh.”
Pansy Parkinson froze in the doorway, one perfectly manicured hand still on the handle. Behind her: Draco, Blaise, Theo, all three wearing varying degrees of shit eating grins.
Mattheo didn’t even flinch. He just groaned long, dramatic and buried his face back in your neck like if he ignored them hard enough they’d disappear.
You, however, peeked over his shoulder and waved sheepishly. “Hi.”
Pansy’s jaw dropped. Then she shrieked, actual, delighted shriek and launched herself at the bed.
“You’re BACK!” She threw herself across both of you, hugging you around Mattheo’s shoulders. “I knew it! I told them you’d crack before the three months were up!”
“Pans,” Mattheo growled, muffled. “Get. Off.”
She ignored him, squeezing harder. “Look at him! He’s gone full koala. I’ve never seen him this pathetic. It’s beautiful.”
Draco leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, smirking. “Pathetic is generous. The man spent last night crying into his pillow like a first year. We could hear him through the wall.”
“I did not,” Mattheo snapped, finally lifting his head. His hair was even worse now. Eyes narrowed to slits. “And if you don’t leave in the next five seconds”
“You’ll what?” Theo drawled, sauntering closer. He perched on the edge of the bed like he owned it. “Hex us? With what wand? You’ve been too busy hugging your girlfriend like she’s a teddy bear to even notice where you left it.”
Blaise snorted. “Mate, you literally apparated out of the common room with her last night like some lovesick Romeo. Didn’t even say goodnight. Rude.”
Mattheo’s ears went pink.
You bit your lip to keep from laughing.
Pansy finally rolled off you both, sitting cross-legged at the foot of the bed. She poked Mattheo’s calf. “Admit it. You were insufferable. Whiny. Moody. Threatened to curse half the fifth years for breathing too loud near her empty seat at breakfast.”
“I was not whiny,” he muttered, but he was already sliding an arm back around your waist, pulling you flush against his side like a human shield.
Theo raised an eyebrow. “You told Flitwick you were ‘emotionally compromised’ when he asked why you blew up your cauldron in Charms. Emotionally. Compromised.”
The tips of Mattheo’s ears were scarlet now.
Draco pushed off the doorframe, smirking wider. “And don’t think we forgot the time you stared at her owl post for twenty straight minutes without blinking. Thought you were trying to set it on fire with your mind.”
“I hate all of you,” Mattheo announced flatly.
You couldn’t hold it in anymore…you laughed, bright and helpless, hiding your face against his shoulder.
He turned to glare at you, betrayed. “You too?”
“Sorry,” you wheezed, still giggling. “But… emotionally compromised?”
He groaned again longer, more theatrical and flopped face first into the pillow beside you.
“Kill me,” he said into the feathers. “Just end it.”
Pansy patted his head like he was a sad puppy. “There, there. Your dignity died weeks ago. We’ve all accepted it.”
Theo leaned in conspiratorially. “So. How long before he lets her out of arm’s reach? My bet’s on never.”
“Never,” Blaise agreed. “He’ll start carrying her around like a princess. Watch.”
Mattheo lifted his head just enough to shoot them a murderous look. “I will end you. Slowly.”
But his hand never left your waist. And when you pressed a soft kiss to his temple, the murderous look melted into something embarrassingly fond.
Draco sighed theatrically. “Right. We’ve seen enough. Let’s leave the tragic lovers to their tragic love.”
“Tragic?” Pansy scoffed as they all started filing out. “This is peak comedy. I’m telling everyone at breakfast.”
“Pansy!” Mattheo started, warning in his voice.
“Too late!” she sang, already halfway out the door. “See you at lunch, lovebirds!”
The door slammed shut.
Silence.
Mattheo exhaled through his nose. Then he rolled onto his back, dragging you with him so you ended up sprawled across his chest.
“They’re never going to let this go,” he muttered.
“Nope.”
He stared at the canopy for a long moment. Then quietly, almost shyly:
“Worth it.”
You propped your chin on his sternum, smiling down at him.
“Yeah?”
He cupped your face with both hands. Thumb brushing your lower lip.
“Every second of teasing. Every single one.” His voice dropped. “You’re here. That’s all I care about.”
You leaned down and kissed him—slow, sweet, lingering.
When you pulled back, his eyes were soft again. No walls. No bravado.
“Breakfast?” you asked.
He considered it. Then shook his head.
“Five more minutes,” he said, echoing his earlier plea.
You laughed and settled against him again.
“Deal.”
He wrapped both arms around you, tight.
And for the first time in months, the morning felt right.
You watched as Dick laid the blanket down on the grass with a flourish. A small giggle slipped past your lips as you watched him set up everything for your date. He had brought a blanket, pillows, and a small basket full of snacks, two glasses, and a bottle of wine. "Your date is ready, milady." He said as he gestured dramatically to the blanket and pillows. You giggled more, settling down beside him.
Dick’s fingers brushed against yours as he passed you a glass of wine, the deep red liquid catching the faint glow of the stars overhead. You took a sip as you looked up at the sky. It was dark out now, the stars twinkling above the two of you. The moonlight casted an ethereal glow over the meadow. "It's beautiful tonight." You said softly as you gazed at the stars.
His laugh was low, warm, his eyes never straying from your face. "Not as beautiful as you," Dick murmured, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. You looked over at him, the way he was looking at you making your pulse skip a beat. He looked at you like you were the only constellation worth mapping. You felt your cheeks heat up as you looked away, a smile tugging at your lips as the two of you laid down.
Dick’s fingers traced a slow, invisible line across the sky. "See that W-shaped cluster?" His voice was a whisper against your ear, lips grazing the shell of it as he leaned in closer. "That's Cassiopeia. Queen of the heavens, eternally upside down as punishment for her vanity." You squinted, trying to follow the path of his fingertips, but the stars blurred. His nearness, the wine, and the way his thigh pressed against yours making it impossible to focus.
"How do you know so much about constellations?" You asked as your eyes traced the w shaped constellation.
His grin widened as he shifted closer, the warmth of his body seeping into yours. His finger traced the sky again, this time drawing a lazy arc toward the north. "That one’s Draco," he murmured. "The dragon. Wrapped around the Little Dipper like he’s guarding it." His fingertip brushed your shoulder as he lowered his arm, sending a shiver down your spine. "Bruce made me memorize them when I was young. Said knowing the stars could save your life if you were ever lost."
You smiled softly as looked at the constellations, a sense of calm draping over you. "And this one," Dick said, his voice lowering into something softer, as his finger traced a jagged line of stars near the horizon, "is Orion." His fingertip lingered at the midpoint. "See those three stars? That’s his belt." His hand drifted upward, sketching the outline of broad shoulders, then down again to the faint glimmer of his sword.
Your eyes left the stars as you turned your head, looking over at him. The moonlight casted a soft glow against his skin and you took this moment to take him in. You reached up without thinking, brushing your fingers against his jaw, guiding his face toward yours. Dick's breath hitched when your fingers touched his jaw, his dark eyes flicking down to your lips before meeting yours again. There was only a moment of hesitation before he gently pulled your body against his, leaning his head down to plant a soft kiss to your lips. The wineglass tipped over onto the grass as you reached your hand up, tangling your fingers through his dark hair.
Dick deepened the kiss, his fingers tightening against the small of your back. The taste of him flooded your senses as you arched into him, one hand still threaded through his hair, the other sliding down his chest. The kiss turned urgent and you parted your lips, granting him access as he slipped his tongue past your lips.
The first drop of rain splattered against Dick's cheek. He pulled away just enough to look up at the sky as another drop splashed against your collarbone. You both froze, lips hovering inches apart as more drops of rain came raining down on the two of you. Then it was like the sky split open, rain plummeting to the earth in fat, heavy droplets, drenching the two of you.
You gasped as the cool water splattered against your skin but before you could react, Dick let out a chuckle, a grin splitting his lips. He pressed his forehead against yours, both of your clothes completely soaked from the rain now. "Guess the universe thought we needed to cool off." He said with a small chuckle. You giggled softly as he leaned in for another kiss. "Too bad I have other plans." He murmured against your lips before deepening the kiss.
The rain slid down your face as he kissed you harder, nipping at your lower lip. You whimpered into the kiss as you tugged at his soaked shirt. He got the hint as sat up, tugging his shirt off before tossing it aside. The rain cascaded down his chest and abs, the sight causing heat to pool between your thighs. He maneuvered you so you were laying on your back before tugging your dress down, causing your tits to bounce free.
The cold rain traced paths down your bare skin, the rain sliding between your tits. Dick’s hands slid up your sides, thumbs brushing your hardened nipples. A shiver ran through you, half from the chill, half from the way his gaze darkened as he took you in. "God, you’re gorgeous," he murmured, voice rough, before dipping his head to press an open-mouthed kiss to your collarbone.
His mouth traveled lower, lips hot against the rain-slicked skin between your breasts. You gasped as his tongue flicked over a nipple, arching into him instinctively. The rain fell harder now, drowning out everything but the ragged sound of your breathing. Dick’s hands slid down to your hips, shoving your dress up to your waist as he dragged his teeth lightly over your other nipple. "Dick-" you choked out, but the rest of your words dissolved into a moan as he sucked hard. You whined when he pulled away only to gasp when he pulled your panties down your legs, discarding them to the side with his shirt.
You watched as he unbuttoned his jeans, pulling his cock out. He stroked it a couple of times before spreading your legs, positioning himself between them. You wrapped your arms around his neck, whimpering as he slid the head of his cock between your folds, gathering your arousal on his length before pushing inside of you slowly.
Your back arched off the ground as his cock slid inside of you, filling you inch by inch. Rainwater dripped from his drenched hair and onto your chest as his head hung low when he bottomed out of you. "Fuck," he groaned, eyes meeting yours as he slowly pulling out just to the tip before thrusting back into you again. You moaned, your hand sliding up his neck to tangle in his hair, tugging on the strands lightly.
He thrusted into you with slow, deep thrusts, the feeling of his cock dragging against your walls causing your toes to curl against the soaked blanket. Dick's mouth found yours again, swallowing your moans as he rolled his hips in a way that had you seeing stars. He had one hand pressed against the ground beside your head, his other hand coming up to gently cradle your cheek, thumb brushing your cheekbone. "I'm so in love with you." He said softly as he pressed his forehead against yours.
The rain turned into a downpour around you but both of you barely noticed, too lost in the sensation of eachother. "I love you too." You whispered breathlessly, your nails digging into his shoulder lightly as he picked up his pace. His lips curled into a soft smile as he kissed you again, slow and deep, his tongue exploring your mouth as if he was trying to memorize the taste of you.
He hiked your legs higher around his waist, the new angle letting him hit that sweet spot inside of you. "Yes, right there-" You moaned, your hands tightening their hold on him. Dick trailed kisses down your jaw and neck, groaning against your skin when you pussy clamped down on his cock. His hips snapped into your faster, chasing your pleasure as much as his own. You felt a knot tighten in your stomach, your orgasm fast approaching.
His hand slid between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit. He rubbed slow circles against it, matching the rhythm of his thrusts. "That's it, sweetheart. Let go for me." He murmured against your lips, his voice rough with need. You arched into his touch, your breath coming out in short gasps as pleasure coiled tighter inside of you.
"Dick, I'm gonna-" Your words cut off into a moan as pleasure crashed over you, your body trembling beneath his. He groaned as your pussy clenched around him, spurring him on. His hips snapped against your a couple more times as he chased his own high.
"Fucking Christ!" He groaned, stilling inside of you as you felt him cum inside of you. He collapsed on top of you, careful not to rest all of his weight on top of you. His face nuzzled your neck before he pressed a soft kiss on the skin between your neck and shoulder. You caught your breath as you came down from your high, threading your hands through his hair.
"If we don't get out of the rain soon we're gonna catch a cold." You said with a soft giggle as you kissed his head.
"Worth it." He said with a grin as he looked up at you, leaning in to capture your lips in a kiss as the rain came down around the two of you. Despite your earlier words, you honestly didn't care either. It was all worth it when it came to him.
❀ end note: i can't decide if i love or hate this fic, i hope you guys enjoy it though!
❀ if you liked this fic then i would really appreciate it if you liked, or commented, or reblog it! thanks for reading! ❀
the rumours about theodore nott’s size have been circulating around hogwarts like a wild current. and now that you’ve become his girlfriend, you can have your very own confirmation.
⧼ content/tw ⧽ 18+ mdni, smut with some plot, brief fingering, unprotected piv, size kink, belly bulge, girl talk about dicks, cursing, pet names including italian, fem!reader, all characters are aged up, no-war universe
⧼ nota bene ⧽ theodore nott’s redwood tree ain’t hard to see, is all i have to say. yes, i’m horny.
⧼ word count ⧽ 2.5k
“Okay, babe, you have to piss off, or I’ll hex you right now and won’t care about getting expelled.”
Cho rolled her eyes at your insistence to avoid her questions, but she was far from deterred from continuing on her path to find out the truth. She nudged you with her shoulder again, harder this time, as if that could somehow shake the answer right out of you.
“Come on, you have to tell us. It’s like, your duty at this point.”
Lavender nodded eagerly from your right side, her arms crossed on her chest in obvious determination. “Yeah, you must tell us, love,” she whined in that familiar tone of hers that meant she wasn’t getting what she wanted and didn’t like it one bit. “We’ve been dying to know. D-y-i-n-g. Don’t be a bitch.”
You shook your head in a resounding ‘no’, just a wrong breath away from stomping your foot like a fussy toddler. You loved your friends, you really did, but sometimes they were… Fucking insufferable, that’s what they were. Ever since Theo had asked you out—mind you, it happened only two meagre weeks ago, which was virtually nothing in terms of romantic relationships—they’ve been pestering you on and on and on about everything. Does he snore at night? Does he spoil you absolutely rotten? Is he actually Italian or just pretending for attention? This one was exceptionally stupid, even Lavender had to admit it after your astounded ‘What the fuck???’. But one of these never ending questions was the most persistent and frankly, horribly irritating: is Theo actually hung?
Of course, you weren’t a stranger to the rumours circulating your newly acquired boyfriend—in fact, you had participated in them multiple times before the two of you got together. But you also knew that at least two thirds of them were just that—rumours—and Theo wasn’t half as promiscuous as the student folk liked to imagine him as. Maybe it was his mysterious (really, just introverted as hell) persona, maybe it was the ambiguous way he’d never truly denied nor confirmed them, but ever since the two of you went official, your friends were hellbent on bullying you into doing just that.
“I hate you.” Cho huffed, taking note of the fact that her tried and true tactic of being as annoying as possible until you gave up was failing spectacularly. “Just a crumb, maybe? We’re not asking much.”
“Yeah, love, just yes or no,” Lavender joined in again, resorting to her best puppy eyes to try to coax the information out of you at last.
But you were unrelenting.
“Merlin, I am not talking about my boyfriend’s dick!” you exclaimed, and maybe it was a little too loud, since a few people lingering in the corridor glanced—some amused, some bewildered, it was embarrassing all the same.
Before Cho or Lavender could react, and it was very likely that they wouldn’t stop their interrogation anyway, you felt a cool hand settle on your waist from behind. Thank you, thank you, thank you, you repeated endlessly in your head as you turned around to face none other than him—Theo, your lovely, grumpy boyfriend who was eyeing your group of three with a slightly raised eyebrow. Nonchalant, as usual, but at that moment it was an actual saving grace.
“You ready to go?”
His smooth voice filled your ears like honey-laced liquor, and you felt every little drop of your earlier irritation melt away into the pot of lovelorn stupidity. What a sickening effect Theo’s presence had on you, you thought briefly, but quickly forgot all about thinking as soon as his hand pressed gently on your lower back, guiding you away from Lavender and Cho. They didn’t really protest—probably because neither of them had learned how to directly interact with Theo yet. Good. At least for now.
———
“You want to tell me, tesoro?”
“Huh?”
Your mind felt blissfully empty before Theo asked the question, so you didn’t really catch the meaning of it at first. You lifted your heavy head from Theo’s chest, where you had almost dozed off, and looked up. His expression was rather neutral—maybe a little more relaxed than usual thanks to the cuddles you so eagerly provided—but you could see that little hint of concern in the crease between his eyebrows. It was deeper than usual; you were getting better at learning his visual cues already.
“What do you mean? Tell you what?”
“Why you were so upset. When I got you away from your girls,” Theo explained, his fingers lightly caressing your back in silent reassurance. The pleasant little shivers they sent through your body were pretty distracting, but then you remembered what he was even asking about, and—
“Ugh, nothing. It’s stupid.”
You tried to shake off Theo’s worries, but the pout on your lips gave you away completely. It wasn’t even conscious, as if your body was getting pissy about that god-awful conversation by itself all over again. Of course, he noticed, and of course, he couldn’t let you bullshit him. He gave you enough cool down time already—three hours of quiet cuddling, no less—and had to ask to ease his own anxiety about your well-being.
“I know it’s not. You know I know. So just tell me.”
You sighed, realizing he was right, that you couldn’t really hide it. But fuck, it was really stupid…
“Cho and Lav are being fucking ridiculous,” you muttered, avoiding Theo’s gaze while simultaneously sneaking glances to check his reaction. “They’re…”
A groan, because why on Earth was it so awkward to talk about?
“They were asking about your dick.”
Theo stayed silent for a long moment, and you almost started to think he was getting ready to just up and leave because you had such shameless friends… But then, he chuckled. He rarely ever laughed, even with you, and he chose this moment out of everything to chuckle. He looked really good doing it, too—the dimple on his left cheek stood out like a small ray of sunshine in the dim lights of the dorm, a stray curl fell on his forehead. Theo was infuriatingly attractive.
“What?” you bristled indignantly, though there was a worried edge in your voice too. Was this the line? You had only been together for two damn weeks, and this was what did it?
“Amore.” Theo tried to will the smile away, but it creeped onto his lips anyway. The cute sight of it made your face light up—he wasn’t leaving at the very least, for sure. “You were so upset about your friends taking about my dick?”
“Well, yeah,” you grumbled, trying to figure out what to make of his reaction. “You’d be thrilled if Matt or Enzo started pestering you about my tits, I’m guessing.”
“They did.” Theo shrugged, like it was no big deal; with a good dose of satisfaction you noticed the barely-there tension in his jaw. “Told them to fuck off a couple of times, and that was it, pretty much. They stopped.”
“Lucky you.” You sighed, shifting against his side to get more comfortable in the face of your turmoil. Your thigh brushed against Theo’s crotch, and you definitely felt something sticking out there. Didn’t pay much attention, since your mind was still somewhat preoccupied. “I know it’s dumb, okay? I just hate this… mindset. Like they’re entitled to know all about your dick just ‘cause I’m dating you.”
“I get it.”
Theo was definitely getting turned on, you could tell by the restless way his hips shifted under your thigh. Yet he dutifully kept his composure for the sake of letting you vent. Boyfriend material, your mind immediately supplied. Good thing he already was exactly that.
“Really?”
“Yeah. I really do.”
Theo’s fingers continued slowly tracing circles on your back. The movements were deliberate, soothing, letting you relax further into his touch and honestly, turning you into a bit of a puddle—both figuratively and literally. Your own hips moved involuntarily against Theo’s thigh, the dampening spot between your legs rubbing against the fabric stuck between you—his sweats and your pyjama shorts. Theo’s exhale was rougher this time, and yet he kept to himself for now.
“I can talk to them,” he offered quietly. “If it bothers you so much, I’ll tell them to knock it off. Okay?”
You let out a breath, an invisible knot in your chest unraveling. It was a comforting thought, to know that your boyfriend took your concerns seriously and was on your side, not even thinking to blame you for the shit your friends were saying.
“I’m good, babe. But I’ll keep this in mind.”
You shifted up the bed to place a tiny kiss on his cheek.
“Thanks,” you murmured, and it finally sounded easy. Theo must’ve felt the shift in your body, your voice, your whole demeanor, because he mirrored it entirely. He turned to his side, your hips slotting against each other like perfectly fitting puzzle pieces, and it became painfully obvious just how aroused both of you were. You’d been suppressing the desire in favour of having the talk, but now that it was out of the way…
Love could run free.
Theo kissed you, your lips connecting softly at first, tentatively, as if he was feeling out the territory and the boundaries that he could potentially breach. Having met no resistance from your side, he deepened the kiss, one hand still resting lightly on your back as the other one cupped your jaw. It didn’t go lower yet, his thumb rubbing your skin to uncoil the last remaining traces of tension, but you knew he was barely holding back. You could feel his cock harden even more where it rested between your thighs, and you couldn’t help a slow roll against it.
“Cazzo,” he breathed into your mouth as he twitched in response, hips grinding leisurely into yours, though he was far from lazy. “You want that, yeah?”
Even though your damp shorts were enough of a proof, you still nodded, lips brushing his because you simply couldn’t pull away. “Yeah, I do. Really do.”
Theo didn’t need any more words. His hand left your face and skimmed over your side, your waist, then hip, and dipped into your shorts at last. His fingers found your folds, long slick with arousal, and circled your clit—something he never had trouble finding. Your breathless moan into his mouth made his cock twitch again, but it wasn’t his focus at the moment.
“I love how wet you get for me.” His voice was hoarse, raspy—it got like that whenever he was in the mood, and it made you that much hornier in return. “Means I’m doing it right, yeah?”
“Yeah,” you breathed back, grinding against his hand. Your impatience was showing, and he didn’t make you wait any longer—two fingers easily slipped into your entrance at once, squelching sounds filling the quiet of the dorm as Theo started moving them inside you.
Your lips stayed sealed together as he fingered you open, curling and pressing all the right spots he had come to know over the still-short period of your relationship. He took his time preparing you even though he could tell you were already hungry for his cock—he’d never risk hurting you if he could prevent it. But eventually his own desire started taking over as well—of course it did when he had his girl dripping all over his hand and rubbing her thigh against his aching erection over and over again.
Placing one last kiss on your swollen lips, Theo turned you onto your back, straightening up on his knees between yours.
“You ready?” he asked a little raggedly, palming himself through his sweatpants as he looked down at the perfect picture—you spread out before him, panting with arousal, hands already tugging at your shorts to get rid of them as soon as possible.
“Always. For you, always.”
When he pulled his pants down just enough to free himself, you couldn’t help it—you stared it his cock as if it was the first time you’d seen it. He was big, you realized once again—not that you hadn’t before, but it felt like the thought hit you with renewed force. Long and thick, flushed red, as if Theo’s entire blood flow rushed straight down there; pulsing veins running up the shaft and ending at the glistening tip. He was already leaking generously, and each drop of precum dripping down to his taut balls made you want to lick them all up and slurp. But now wasn’t the time. Theo was set on pleasuring you tonight.
“You like it, huh?” he murmured, lowering onto his forearms to hover just above you. “Like when my cock’s hard just for you, amore?”
The answer could never be anything other than a ‘yes’ moaned against his lips when he finally sank into you—slowly, carefully at first, until he was fully sheathed inside your clenching pussy. His cock throbbed insistently as he tried to give you time to adjust, groaning quietly into your mouth when he felt your warm walls gripping him just the right way.
“You’re gonna milk me dry, love.” Theo chuckled tensely, at this point unsure if he was going to last as long as he’d want to. But when you whimpered, rolling your hips against his to urge him to move, his tight self-control snapped in half, like a thread thinned out by the burning flame of your need.
His thrusts weren’t fast, but they were deep—oh fuck, were they. Each one seemed to hit a new spot inside you, echoing intensely up your spine, in your belly, everywhere he could possibly reach. Theo couldn’t keep his eyes fixed on anything in particular—they drifted over your blissed out face, then down to where your bodies connected, watching his cock slide smoothly in and out of your cunt, sweat-slick skin slapping against each other again and again. But when he saw it—the bulge in your lower stomach that appeared and disappeared every time his felt his tip grind against your cervix—his vision nearly blurred. How come he’d never noticed it before?
It was the hottest sight he had ever had the honour to witness.
“You feel me? Right here,” he rasped out, one hand resting at that perfect spot where your belly rose and fell in time with his movements. You nodded, your shut eyes opening just enough to see exactly what he was talking about—his cock making your flesh shift, the act itself like a claim on you he hadn’t intended to lay.
“So fucking big,” you breathed out, nails scratching Theo’s back harder when his thrusts grew sloppier, faster.
“And all yours,” he whispered, his lips colliding with yours in a heated kiss once more. “This cock’s all yours, amore. Doesn’t fucking matter what people say, yeah? You know you own it all.”
And when you came shamelessly all over that cock a few intense, mind-numbing seconds later, a brief thought flickered through your fucked out mind—you owned Theodore Nott’s cock, and you’d lie if you weren’t awfully, terrifically jealous of yourself.
He couldn’t remember ever being struck dumb—his mouth was always ready with venom, mockery, or dark promise. Until now.
His fingers were knotted deep in your hair, the long, glossy strands wrapped around his hand like rope he never wanted to let go. Each pull tugged your scalp just enough to draw a soft, involuntary whimper from your throat, the sound vibrating straight to his cock, still slick and hard against the seam of your swollen lips.
Your eyes are glassy, wide, shimmering with unshed tears and lifted to his. Too trusting. Too fucking beautiful. Mascara smudged faintly at the corners, cheeks flushed and damp, lips glistening with spit and the taste of him. Your breath came in shallow, hitching pants that fanned hot across the sensitive head of him every time you exhaled, making his hips twitch forward despite himself.
He could still feel the velvet clutch of your throat from moments ago, the way you’d taken him deeper than should’ve been possible, gagging softly around his length until tears spilled over. The memory alone sent a fresh pulse of heat through him.
His free hand rose, almost against his will to cup your jaw, thumb dragging roughly over the plump curve of your bottom lip, smearing the mess you’d made. Your tongue darted out instinctively, tasting the salt of your own tears and the lingering musk of him on his skin.
Something cracked inside his chest.
You looked ruined and radiant all at once, knees bruised against the cold floor, thighs trembling, chin wet and shining and still you gazed up at him like he was salvation instead of ruin.
Words failed him.
All he could do was tighten his grip in your hair, tilt your head back further, and let his thumb press inside your mouth—slow, deliberate—watching your lips close around it with the same greedy devotion you’d shown his cock only minutes before.
He exhaled a broken, shaky sound that might have been your name.
You dragged your tongue slowly along your lower lip, tasting the lingering salt of him, the faint bitterness that clung to the corners of your mouth like a secret. Your eyes dark and glassy, never left his as you leaned in again. Greedy, insatiable, already chasing more.
A violent shiver ripped down Mattheo Riddle’s spine. Fuck. There was no universe in which he let you go after this. Not tonight. Not ever. You’d carved yourself into him now, branded him with wet heat and desperate devotion.
His eyes slammed shut. Head fell back hard, exposing the long, corded column of his throat. Adam’s apple bobbing with a harsh swallow, pulse hammering visibly beneath flushed skin, veins standing out in sharp relief. The faint sheen of sweat caught the low light, making him look carved from marble and sin.
He’d already spilled down your throat minutes ago, thick, hot pulses that you’d swallowed with a muffled moan, throat fluttering around him like you were trying to pull him deeper even then. Yet here your mouth was again, soft lips parting, tongue flicking out to lap delicately at the slick, oversensitive head of his cock.
The first touch made his hips jerk forward involuntarily.
Too much. Too fucking good.
The slit wept fresh precum under your tongue’s slow, teasing circle—salty, viscous, coating your taste buds as you hummed in greedy approval. His length, traitor that it was, thickened again in seconds, swelling hot and heavy against the wet velvet of your mouth despite the raw ache of overstimulation.
Mattheo’s hands shot to your hair once again, fingers knotting brutally at the roots, yanking your head back just enough to make your scalp sting deliciously. Your whimper vibrated straight through him, making his cock twitch hard against your tongue.
“You’re fucking insatiable,” he rasped.
His voice cracked gravel-rough, shaky, nothing like the controlled drawl he usually wielded like a weapon. It sounded wrecked. Desperate. Like he was unraveling thread by thread.
You answered by hollowing your cheeks and sucking hard, deliberate, lips sealing tight around him as you dragged your tongue flat along the underside, tracing the thick vein that pulsed frantically. The wet, obscene sound of your mouth working him filled the room, slick and filthy.
A strangled moan tore from his throat low, guttural, almost pained. His abs clenched, thighs trembling under your palms where you braced against them. Every nerve in his body felt scorched, white-hot pleasure-pain searing from the head of his cock straight to the base of his spine.
He couldn’t decide whether to shove you off too sensitive, too raw or force you down until your nose pressed to his pelvis and your throat spasmed around him again.
You decided for him.
One hand slid up to cup his balls—gentle at first, then firmer, rolling them in your palm as your head bobbed shallowly, lips stretched wide, spit slicking down his shaft in messy rivulets. The other hand gripped the base, stroking what your mouth couldn’t reach, twisting on the upstroke just to hear him curse under his breath.
His head snapped forward suddenly. Eyes flew open black, blown pupils swallowing the irises as he stared down at you like you were made of gold. Lips swollen and glossy, cheeks flushed, tears of effort streaking from the corners of your eyes, mascara smudged in dark smears around your eyes.
Beautiful. Ruined. His.
Another broken sound ripped from him half growl, half plea as his hips rocked forward, shallow thrusts that pushed him deeper into the wet heat of your throat.
“I can’t—ah! Can’t take anymore.”
The words tumbled out in a broken, panicked whine as you pulled off him with a lewd, wet pop. A thick, glistening string of saliva stretched between your swollen lips and the flushed, glistening head of his cock shimmering for a heartbeat before it snapped, leaving a slick trail down your chin. Your tongue darted out instinctively, slow and deliberate, tracing the plump curve of your bottom lip to gather the taste of him. Your hand never left him, fingers wrapped firm around his throbbing length, stroking lazily up and down in long, torturous glides that kept him right on the razor’s edge.
Mattheo’s entire body jerked at the loss of your mouth, hips twitching forward like they had a mind of their own, chasing the heat no matter how much it burned.
“You’ve been so good, Matty,” you murmured, voice husky and sweet, dripping with filthy encouragement. Your eyes locked on his shone with wicked adoration. “You can give me one more, right?”
A shaky, strangled moan stuttered from his throat—half plea, half surrender. He’d give you anything. Everything. As long as you kept looking up at him like that: like he was the center of your fucking universe, wrecked and worshipped all at once.
"Good boy." A satisfied shiver skates down his back, the praise you provide almost convincing him he can take the burn that comes with your mouth back on him.
He barely managed to drag in a ragged breath before your hot, wet mouth descended again.
“God—Fuck—!”
The curse ripped out of him, raw and guttural. Sweat beaded across his pale skin, catching the dim light in tiny prisms as it rolled down the sharp lines of his collarbones, the taut plane of his abdomen. His head slammed back against the wall, throat bared in a long, vulnerable column. Veins pulsing, Adam’s apple jumping with every choked swallow. Eyes squeezed so tightly shut the lashes trembled; you couldn’t tell if tears were leaking from the corners or if it was just the sweat tracking down his temples.
He’d given and received pleasure more times than he could count—rough, calculated, detached. But never like this. Never this consuming, this devastating. Your mouth was velvet fire, tongue swirling relentlessly around the hypersensitive ridge, lips sealed tight as you sucked him down again and again. The wet, filthy sounds of your throat working him echoed in the quiet room—obscene, rhythmic, relentless.
His second orgasm was already coiling low in his gut, vicious and inevitable, building faster than he could control. Every drag of your tongue along the underside sent lightning arcing up his spine; every hollow of your cheeks pulled a fresh, broken sound from him. His balls drew up tight under your palm where you cupped and massaged them, rolling gently even as your other hand pumped the base in slick, twisting strokes.
He was shaking uncontrollably now—thighs quivering, abs clenching so hard the muscles stood out in sharp relief. His fingers cramped in your hair, not guiding anymore, just holding on like you were the only thing keeping him from floating away.
The pleasure crashed over him like a wave he couldn’t outrun—white-hot, blinding. His hips snapped forward in shallow, helpless thrusts as he spilled again, thick and pulsing, flooding your mouth while you moaned around him, swallowing greedily, throat fluttering to milk every last drop. Tears finally slipped free from the corners of his squeezed-shut eyes, streaking silently down flushed cheeks.
When the aftershocks finally ebbed, he sagged—breath heaving, chest rising and falling in harsh pants, skin slick and trembling. His grip in your hair loosened, fingers carding through the strands now in something almost tender.
He opened his eyes—dark, dazed, utterly ruined—and looked down at you. Still on your knees. Lips glossy and swollen. Chin wet. Eyes shining with satisfaction and something dangerously close to devotion.
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.
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.”
It was no secret that your relationship was an enigma to the rest of Hogwarts. The Dark Lord’s son was ruthless, sharp-tongued, and dripping with inherited danger. And also, utterly devoted to a girl who still wore frilly lace socks and tied delicate satin ribbons in her hair.
The contrast was almost obscene. Hands that had wielded unforgivable violence now cradled your cheek with a reverence that made your knees weak. Fingers stained by blood and curses traced the curve of your jaw as gently as if you were made of spun glass.
The whispers used to burrow under your skin like splinters, sharp and relentless. But Mattheo had spent months wrapping you in his quiet devotion, slowly stitching your confidence back together until it shone brighter than any house crest. He kept you safe, ferociously and protectively, so much so that the rumors no longer had the power to make you flinch.
No amount of gossip, no sideways glances in the corridors, could ever make you turn away from him. Not when he looked at you like you were the only soft thing left in his brutal world.
Mattheo’s mates still snickered behind his back when they thought he couldn’t hear them. Their low, mocking chuckles in the Slytherin common room about how their feared friend had gone soft for a girl who skipped through the corridors like the world was made of sugar. You hummed the sweetest little tunes under your breath as you made your way to class, ribbons fluttering in your hair and frilly socks peeking above your polished shoes.
It was almost impossible to hate you, though. You were sickeningly sweet, the kind of gentle that gave cavities and made even the coldest purebloods falter. You showed up at their dorm unannounced with baskets of warm, buttery cookies fresh from the kitchens, the scent of vanilla and chocolate curling through the stone room like a spell. You smuggled bright coloring books and fat crayons to the house-elves, kneeling on the cold dungeon floors just to watch their wide eyes light up as they clutched the gifts to their tiny chests.
And while Mattheo worshipped every soft, ribboned inch of your sweetness, he was addicted to the secret version of you that no one else would ever see.
He lived for the way your pretty thighs trembled violently around his head, slick and quivering as he buried his tongue deeper inside you. He craved the broken, honey-sweet moans that spilled against his ear while he worshipped your cunt like it was holy. Slow, devoted strokes of his tongue, the wet sounds obscene in the quiet of his dorm. Your fingers would twist desperately in his dark curls, hips jerking helplessly as he dragged you over the edge again and again, never once asking for anything in return.
Fuck, he would crawl across the stone floor on his hands and knees like a dog if that’s what you wanted. He’d let you use his mouth, his cock, his fingers. Any part of him, any time, anywhere without a single complaint.
But you never demanded degradation. All you ever asked for was his time and his love.
So he struck a quiet deal with you in the dark, whispered between kisses and shared breaths: he was yours. Completely. Freely. His body belonged to you the moment you wanted it. He loved watching your confidence slowly bloom in the bedroom—his once-shy girl finally brave enough to ask for what she desired.
But what he craved even more was for you to stop asking altogether.
Even though you had his explicit permission—his low, sleepy voice reminding you “Use me whenever you want, baby” still ringing in your ears—you couldn’t stop the delicate shiver of nerves racing up your spine as you sat just beside him in the early morning hour.
He looked so devastatingly pretty like this, lost in sleep. Dark lashes rested heavy against his cheeks, full lips slightly parted. One strong, veined arm was tucked behind his head, bicep flexed even in repose, while the other stretched across the sheets, fingers half-curled as if searching for your warmth even in his dreams.
Heat radiated from his bare torso in gentle waves, carrying the familiar scent of him, his woodsy cologne and whatever herb him and Theo had found to smoke before bed. Your gaze drags greedily down his body, drinking in every inch he’d so willingly surrendered to you. The black briefs clung low on his hips, the deep V of muscle pointing temptingly toward the thick outline of his cock resting heavy against his thigh. Messy dark curls spilled across one of your pink silk pillows, the delicate fabric a ridiculous contrast against his rough, dangerous beauty.
Your thighs press together instinctively, heart fluttering as you watch the steady rise and fall of his chest. He's all yours to take.
You draw in a slow, steadying breath, the air cool against your heated cheeks, before you finally reach for him.
Your fingertips skate lightly up his toned thighs, watching them flex instantly beneath your touch—hard muscle jumping and tightening under warm, smooth skin. A quiet thrill shoots through you at the sight of him already reacting, completely at your mercy even in sleep.
You relished it.
The power. The privilege. The way his cock was already thickening, heavy and obscene beneath the thin black fabric of his briefs, the thick head pressing insistently against the waistband from nothing more than your gentle fingers. Your tiny lace panties are soaked, the delicate material clinging wetly to your folds as fresh arousal pulses between your thighs.
Unable to resist any longer, you lean down and press a soft, open-mouthed kiss just below his navel. Your lips linger there, tasting the warm salt of his skin, feeling the faint trail of dark hair tickling your chin. Your thighs squeeze together tightly, trying to ease the aching throb building inside you, but it only makes the slick heat worse.
Mattheo tenses under your mouth, a low, unconscious rumble vibrating through his chest. His hips shift slightly, cock twitching visibly as it continues to swell. One of his hands flex against the sheets, fingers curling as if reaching for you again.
You should feel ashamed.
You should feel guilty for how much you love this—for how wet and desperate it makes you to use him while he was still soft and unaware, completely surrendered to whatever you want to take.
But the only thing you feel is a dizzying, delicious rush of want.
You finally hook your fingers into the waistband of his boxers and peel them down his hips. His cock springs free instantly, slapping heavily against his lower stomach with a lewd sound. It’s already glistening with thick beads of precum welling at the flushed tip and dripping down the veined shaft in slow, shiny trails.
You lick your lips, breath shallow as you take your time admiring him like this: completely exposed, utterly yours. The angry, swollen red of his tip contrasts so prettily with the soft pink flush high on his sleeping cheeks. His full lips are still parted, lashes dark against his skin, while the lower half of his body is surrendered to your greedy little hands and the slow torture you’re inflicting.
Your small hand wraps around his thick shaft, fingers barely able to close around the hot, pulsing girth. Your thumb swipes slowly over the leaking head, gathering the slick precum and smearing it in lazy circles around the sensitive tip. The wet, obscene sound of skin on skin fills the quiet room.
Nerves flutter up your spine again. What if he wakes up and regrets giving you this permission? What if—
Your hand slows, hesitation creeping in as you catch your bottom lip between your teeth, that familiar nervous tick Mattheo has always adored.
You’re about to pull away entirely when a much larger, warmer hand suddenly covers yours, fingers closing firmly around your own and squeezing until your grip tightens perfectly around his cock.
“Doin' so good, baby…”
His voice is rough as gravel, still thick with sleep and raw from the late hour. He doesn’t open his eyes. Doesn’t move otherwise. He simply keeps his hand wrapped around yours, guiding you with slow, deliberate strokes as he offers himself up to you even in his half-awake haze—exactly the way he promised he would.
His hand stayed wrapped around yours for only a moment longer before it slid away, palm dragging lazily up your arm in silent permission. He laid back like an offering, hands lazily on you as he closed his eyes again.
"C'mon princess, take what you need."
You didn’t hesitate this time.
Rising onto your knees, you tug your soaked panties to the side and straddle his hips. Your pussy already dripping, slick arousal coating your inner thighs and sliding down in warm, shiny trails. The thick head of his cock nudges against your drenched folds, parting them with a wet, obscene sound before you sink down in one slow, greedy drop all the way to the hilt.
A broken little whimper escapes your lips as he stretches you open, the blunt head of his cock pressing right against that sensitive spot that makes your toes curl. Your walls flutter and clench around every thick inch, gripping him tightly like you never want to let go. The stretch burns so perfectly, the wet squelch of your soaked cunt swallowing him whole echoing in the quiet dorm.
Mattheo’s eyes flu open with a sharp, startled inhale, his whole body jerking beneath you. For half a second his hands dig into the soft flesh of your thighs, but he doesn't thrust up. He doesn't take control.
Instead, he exhales a shaky, reverent “Fuck… baby,” his voice still gravel-rough and sleepy as his lashes flutter. His head drops back onto your pink pillow, dark curls splayed wildly, and let's you take what you need.
You start to move slowly, experimental rolls of your hips that quickly turn desperate. Every time you sink down, his cock kisses so impossibly deep that you swear you feel him in your stomach. The lewd, slippery sounds of your slick walls sliding up and down his thick length filling the room–wet, messy. Fresh arousal leaks out around his shaft with every bounce, coating his balls and dripping down onto the sheets.
Mattheo’s hands slide up to rest loosely on your waist, thumbs stroking gentle circles over your skin, but he never guides you. Never speeds you up. He simply watches you through half-lidded eyes, lips parted on soft, broken praises that made your heart flutter even as your cunt clenches harder around him.
Your voice comes out shy and breathy, barely above a whisper. “I-is this okay, Matty? Does it feel good when I use you like this?”
His cock twitched hard inside you at the sweet sound of your voice, eyes fluttering as a quiet moan leaves his parted lips. “So fucking good, sweetheart,” he rasps, voice hoarse with sleep and pleasure. “You’re perfect… keep going. Such a good girl, so pretty on top." He reaches up to palm your breasts, thumb swiping over your pebbled nipple.
You whimper softly, gaining a little more courage with his words. “So deep. Can feel you everywhere.” Your walls squeeze around him tighter as you say it, another gush of wetness dripping down his shaft. “All mine… don't even have to ask, right?”
“Never, baby,” he groans, eyes rolling back slightly. “I’m your toy. Use me—fuuck, just like that.”
His cock throbs violently inside your pulsing heat, hips twitching once then twice before he's coming with a deep, guttural groan, hot spurts of cum flooding your already soaked walls. You feel every pulse, every thick rope painting your insides as your greedy cunt milks him through it, the wet sounds turning even filthier with the mix of your slick and his release.
But you don't stop. You can't.
You keep riding him through his orgasm, hips rolling greedily, chasing more of your own pleasure even as his cum leaks out around his cock with every bounce. The overstimulation makes his thighs tremble and his breath hitch into soft, broken whimpers, yet he only tips his head back further, eyes half-lidded and adoring.
“S-Shit—sweetheart… keep going,” he rasps, voice trembling with pleasure and pain. One hand slides up to cup your cheek so tenderly, thumb brushing your bottom lip. “Don’t stop. I’m yours… f-fuck, I’m all yours. Use me as long as you need, pretty girl.”
SUMMARY: you thought you were just going to have a peaceful night with your boyfriend, cuddling while watching the newest episode of The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills. you thought.
WORD COUNT: 4.1k. (i’m sorry?)
TAGS: 18+, SMUT MDNI, praise kink, some teasing, matty being an absolute dawg per usual, unable to keep those delicious hands to himself, maybe like the tiniest bit of degradation, fingering, multiple orgasm, PIV, doggy/prone-bone, um yeah the usual filth i provide.
DEDICATION: this was a little bday gift for my lovely friend @pizzaapeteer🤍 hope u had the best day bbygirl ilysm!
"Matt," you exhaled your boyfriends name, leisurely rubbing your tired eyes. "...any minute now, please."
A muffled yawn from inside the bathroom was the only outward sign of his acknowledgment before he appeared in the doorframe--like a vision materializing from a dream. Your groggy eyes clung to his shadow, watching as he lazily sauntered toward you--looking cozy, yet as exhausted as ever.
It’d been a busy day for you both, between his quidditch tournament finally drawing to a close and your ruthless potions exam--you’d found yourselves lacking routine, your schedules treacherously out of sync--because not only had you not seen each other since this morning, the way the day had started was frantic enough to send your mood into sours so intense it’d make a fucking lemon grimace.
There was no cuddles, no intimate shower time, and certainly no morning sex. The only bout of intimacy Mattheo was able to steal from you was a quick peck on the cheek before you scurried out the door, desperate to cram in as much studying as you could.
It was safe to say that by this point, the two of you were fucking spent, slightly annoyed, and most certainly, drained. And all you’d been thinking about--for the entirety of your day, was getting to snuggle, catch the latest episode of your favourite muggle/guilty-pleasure show, preceded by dozing off embraced within your boyfriend’s loving arms.
"Look, I love you and all, but can't we watch something else?" He was so utterly unenthused you'd think you were forcing him to watch paint dry, his expressions a mirror to his tone as he combed a hand through his hair. "Something that maybe won't give me a bloody headache."
Messy chocolate curls framing brooding brown eyes, grey sweatpants and a black hoodie was all that it took to make you rethink your plans for the evening. It was clear to you, almost immediately, that Mattheo wasn’t as deterred by the craziness of the day as you were. You could see that twinkle in his eye, that hunger barred behind cheeky grins and teasing words.
You rolled your eyes, biting your lip in attempt to quell your smirk. "Oh, come on, Mattheo," you teased, shifting on the comforter to make space for him beside you. "You know deep down you love the drama. That's practically your middle name."
"If I'm being completely honest," your boyfriend scoffed, settling into bed beside you. "I'd probably enjoy it more if we turned the volume off."
Your face flushed with warmth as Mattheo immediately drew you into him, one arm slipping under your head while the other coasted a light path up your thigh. A pair of lips pressed to your neck, wet and soft against your aching skin, igniting bliss to burn a scorching heat in your belly. Against your better judgement and instigated by a force well beyond your control, you sighed--exhausted lids fluttering shut as you revelled in the warmth his presence evoked within you.
It right was then, that you knew--as instinctual as breathing--that simply watching your show and going to bed wasn’t going to be enough for your boyfriend. Of course you wanted him--wanted him just as bad as he wanted you--but your exhaustion was prevailing, and therefore, so was your brattiness.
He was going to have to be patient. He was going to have to work for it.
So with a sharp inhale, and in an honest attempt to avoid the volcano of desire before it erupted irrevocably, you turned your back to him--seeking refuge from the imminent intoxication that came along with your boyfriend's perfect lips.
"Wow, Matty," you teased, "and here I was actually considering letting you be the little spoon for once..." you fixed your sight on the TV, fighting to ignore his touch on your hip. "Guess you'll just have to be the big spoon all night."
Mattheo's chuckle rumbled against your back as he tightened his embrace, his warmth enveloping you completely. His lips brushed against your ear, and you could practically hear the exhaustion in his tone, his voice as rough as gravel.
"That's not the punishment you thought it'd be, princess," he murmured, the cheeky grin on his lips practically audible, each syllable tickling the back of your neck as he spoke. "This just gives me something far more interesting to focus on than that dumb show of yours."
You couldn't stop yourself from tsking him, a giggle escaping your lips as you gently pulled his wandering fingers away from your backside, intertwining them with your own. This was one of the many things you adored about him—the way he couldn't seem to keep his hands off you whenever you were together.
"Nuh-uh, Mattheo Riddle--your focus is on the show," your attempt to scold him was warring with the need to keep your voice steady, playfully tilting your head back slightly to meet his gaze. "I know you're just dying to find out who said what behind whose back, aren't you?”
Mattheo huffed, an exhale of pure amusement. A certain intoxicating devilism that you knew all-too-damn-well twinkled in his honeyed irises as he caught your gaze, scorching heat over your skin.
"I'm dying for something, undoubtedly," his arm beneath your head curled inward, large palm finding a handful of your breast and kneading it. Before you could react, his lips graced your earlobe, and he drew it into his mouth, nibbling it, forcing an eminent whimper to flee your throat. "And it's not that."
Involuntarily, you groaned--a noise of pure restraint--your other hand moving up to tug his fervent fingers away from your chest. It took every ounce of your willpower to hold back a sigh of desperation as you mentally reminded yourself of your prior mantra.
Make him be patient. Make him work for it.
"Matty, quit being a brat," you muttered, playful scolding tracing your tone. You honestly couldn't believe you'd just said that. "We’ve both had such a long day…let’s just watch this and goto sleep, yeah?"
His response was a low, rumbling murmur, his voice thick with desire as he turned his head toward the television, his fingers still for the moment.
"You're so right, baby," he conceded, his breath warm against your neck. "I'm just watching the show. I don't even know what you're--"
"Mattheo," you interjected, a hint of warning in your tone, and he let out an exaggerated huff, falling silent. After a moment, you giggled at him. "Salazar help you."
Even without seeing his face, you could practically hear the cheeky grin on his perfect lips spreading from ear to goddamn ear. You were certain he was seeing right through you.
"Alright, alright, I'll behave," he said, though his voice betrayed him. There wasn't one ounce of sincerity in those devastatingly deep cords. "Would you just like, stop squirming, though? It's distracting."
You rolled your eyes. Gods, how you wanted to smack him while simultaneously kissing his perfect, annoying face. "Matt, I literally haven't moved."
Mattheo shrugged, his breathy chuckle washing over your neck, his eyes now fixed on the TV. As the two of you settled into stillness, you exhaled--his playful antics never failed to humour you, a reminder of the delightful chaos that came with dating this messy, yet undeniably wonderful boy. Sometimes, it truly felt like living in your own reality TV show, though you wouldn't have it any other way.
Nestled in his embrace, a sense of tranquility washed over you as you immersed yourself in the drama that this weeks episode had to offer. However, as the clock ticked on and the show progressed, you could feel Mattheo's restlessness grow stronger behind you.
His movements were subtle at first--a shift here, a slight adjustment there, but soon enough, his hands began to wander after breaking free from your hold, tracing delicate patterns along your skin. Despite your efforts to remain focused on the show, the sensation of his touch was relentless, subtle ministrations laced with clear intent that had you distracted from the TV without much effort.
"Mattheo," you whispered, trying to sound stern but failing as a soft sigh escaped your lips.
"Shh, princess," he cooed, voice so sweet it was sugar incarnate. "We're watching the show, aren't we?"
You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his teasing, but before you could protest further, his hand moved to roam along the curve of your waist, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. Your breath caught in your throat, his touch igniting a familiar spark between you, threatening to engulf you both in a different kind of drama altogether--one that had absolutely nothing to do with the show on the television.
And you longed to utter something, anything--longed to form some semblance of coherent speech--but words would simply elude you as Mattheo's hand continued its eager exploration, mapping every inch of your curves as it started trailing its way from your hip down your thigh and back up, softly rolling his hips against your backside.
Somehow, throughout all this, you kept your eyes focused on the screen in front of you--hardly even daring to blink--though your mind was monopolized by the feeling of his calloused palm catching on the fabric of your leggings, the way his fingernails dug into your flesh as he gripped your hip, gripped your thigh, gripped your waist--anywhere his hungry hand could find purchase.
"I want you," his voice was a breath on your neck, his grip bruising your hip as he bucked into you. "So fucking bad."
You whined from lust, your vision fogged by need. His words sent heat straight to your cunt. "Matt..."
"I know, baby," his tongue drew a wet line up the side of your neck toward your ear, and he whispered into it. "Watch the show. Just let me take care of you.”
A lump formed in your throat, your mind so clouded with desire that forming a coherent response seemed impossible, your teeth clawing at your bottom lip to prevent any sounds from slipping out as his other hand moved to grope your chest, kneading your breast within his palm.
Your entire body was in flame, and the truth hung heavy in the air--of course, you wanted him just as desperately as he wanted you, and were more than willing to abandon the show and lose yourself in his touch--but it was frustrating, maddening even, how effortlessly he could disarm you, even while exhausted.
A mere whisper, a few tender touches, and you were putty in his hands, melting under his gaze. So much for making him work for it.
Mattheo hummed and bit the tender flesh between your neck and shoulder, sucking an angry, puckering red mark into it while he continued to grind against your ass, his throbbing desire jabbing you, seeking friction.
"Keep those eyes on the screen, baby." Gods, that bastard. That beautiful fucking bastard. Impossible to resist, completely useless to attempt to ignore. "Forget that I'm even here, yeah?"
A whimper escaped your lips, a tacit admission of how adeptly Mattheo had unraveled you, his touch igniting a starving fervour that coiled tight within you. He possessed an uncanny ability to unravel your defenses, leaving you malleable and pliant under his fingertips, consumed by an overwhelming need that pulsed with every beat of your heart.
"That's..." the words died on your tongue as he kissed your neck again--one hand moving to slip underneath your shirt and the other bruising your hip with his grip, pulling you closer against him. "...impossible."
"Oh, is it?" a pleased huff escaped him, his curls tickling the sensitive skin below your ear as he buried his face against it, teeth grazing your pulse. "Are you saying you can't multitask, baby? You want me to stop-"
"No," you cried out without hesitation as he finally glided up your stomach and slipped under your bra, thumb brushing against your nipple. "I...I can do both."
"Mhm, yeah you can," he purred, five slender digits slipping down to caress between your thighs, grazing over your mound and resting there for a moment, feeling your heat through your leggings. "You can do both because you're my good fucking girl, aren't you?"
His tone was intoxicating, the teasing and gentle praise melding together, creating a concoction brewed with the sole purpose of making your fucking head spin. Each word he uttered seemed to fan the flames of desire within you. Your teeth dug into your lower lip, wanting to plug as many noises as possible, his mouth moving from below your ear and slithering up to the line of your jaw.
Gathering yourself with a sharp inhale, you nodded. "Yes, Matty, I am..."
One hand shifted to your other breast and he groaned against your cheek, flooding your flesh with warmth as his fingers kneaded it, thumb twirling over the sensitive bud, erection grinding against you with another harsh snap of his hips.
"You are what, baby..." he muttered, burying his face back into the crook of your neck, his thick hair soft on your skin. "Wanna' hear you say it."
Another whimper escaped you, loud and shameless as his hand between your thighs shifted slightly, pressing against your clit for a moment before releasing pressure. You knew what he was after. You knew he wasn't going to give you what you wanted until he got it.
"I'm..." you choked on your breath, forcing the rest of the words past your teeth. "I'm your good girl, Matty."
Your arousal surged to dizzying heights, eclipsing any awareness of the television's presence in the room. Your focus had been hijacked, seized by the insatiable force of the hungry heathen at your back.
"Yeah, that's right, baby," Mattheos fingers sprung to action again, dragging the pads of his pointer and middle tantalizingly slow along your slit, teasing you through your leggings, your back arching instinctively as you fought the urge to grind against his touch. "Say it again for me."
You growled in frustration, feeling the heat blaze over your skin as his breath ghosted over your neck. Inhaling sharply, you fought to gather whatever shreds of sanity remained within you.
"Your good fucking girl, Matty," you declared, the words dripping with equal parts hunger and desperation. "All yours. Only yours."
Mattheo's response was a low, guttural growl of approval, his grip tightening possessively as he pulled you closer against him. His teeth dug into your shoulder as he finally sprung into action, hand on a hunt, tracking up to find the band of your leggings and slipping beneath it.
"That's fucking right," he murmured, his voice rough with desire. "All mine.”
Without wasting another second he slid two digits along your slit, pulling apart your slick folds and dragging the rough pads of his fingers over your clit--maddeningly slow. His grip on your breast tightened, breath leaving his lungs in shallow grunts as fervour engulfed him--engulfed you, engulfed the room and set it in flame.
"All yours." you whimpered, nodding.
"My good fucking girl, always so wet for me--so eager, hm?" Your moans filled the room as he took those two thick fingers and slid them into your cunt, the feel of your walls stretching around him igniting a quiet groan from his throat. "All day without this pussy and you really expect me to be able to keep my fucking hands off you? You're all I've been thinking about..."
Then, his thumb was on your clit while he curled his digits inside of you, stroking that sweet spot of raised flesh, your trembling hands flailing to find his arms, fingers digging into his skin, grounding you as though he was your lifeline, your anchor in the rough sea of pleasure he was providing.
"Gods, Matty." Your lids were squeezed tight, lips pinched together, rubbing your head against his as the heat from his mouth grew sweat on your neck. "You're all I--ah--all I think about too..."
Mattheo groaned again, working fast, building the pressure inside of you in record speed, warm heat rushing out over your skin. Your walls throbbed around him, heart a rabid animal barred beneath your sternum, and he added a third digit, pinching your nipple with his other hand--sending stars shooting behind your lids.
"My good girl isn't focusing on the show, is she?" His voice was the tantalizing depth of a black hole, sucking you into his orbit. You forced your eyes open. "You wanna' cum you better start focusing, princess."
Your brain was short circuiting--your mind fogged by a desire so intense it eclipsed any awareness of the television before you. Though your eyes registered its presence in the room, its glow seemed distant and hazy, as if it existed in separate realm from the searing heat encompassing you. You glimpsed it, focused on it, but your brain couldn't quite grasp its purpose as the only thing that held any significance in your consciousness was the sensation of your boyfriend's fingers, relentlessly driving you closer and closer to the edge of euphoria.
"That's better." He hummed, lips pecking at your cheek. "So good for me," his fingers scissored inside you, thumb increasing its pace on your clit. "So, so good."
Your ears rang, your sight blurring. You were so fucking close. "Matty, fuck—I'm gonna-"
Your boyfriend groaned. "Cum for me, baby."
Without needing any further instruction, the coil of pressure inside of you burst, exploding through your skin and enveloping you in a hot, convulsing warmth--you were crying out, cumming hard around him, your walls clamping down on his fingers, pulling him into your body as you pulsed and throbbed with pleasure. You thought you'd kept your eyes open, though you couldn't entirely be sure as your sight blanked, your consciousness consumed by a days worth of pent up sexual energy.
As Mattheo slowly withdrew his hand from beneath your leggings and distanced himself slightly, his voice carried a palpable strain. "Turn over, facing the TV."
Confusion flickered across your features as you blinked, glancing over your shoulder at him. "What?"
"Face the TV, on your stomach," he repeated, his voice firm yet tinged with a hint of desperation. "Please."
You watched as he palmed his throbbing, angry erection through the fabric of his grey sweats, and every single nerve ending in your body roared to life again. Still buzzing with the remnants of your climax, you quickly moved, shifting onto your stomach and facing the TV like he asked, unable to shake the boiling anticipation churning within your core.
You could feel Mattheo's dark eyes boring holes into your flesh, searing the seams of your skin as he shifted up onto his knees and moved between your legs behind you. Two strong hands gripped your thighs, and you tried to peer at him over your shoulder before he tsked you playfully.
"Focus on the screen, baby." There’s that sweet voice again. Sweet like honey oozing off his lips. “Be good.”
Your boyfriend was methodical, moving without urgency even though you knew that he was more than vibrating with it. Leaning down, he pressed soft kisses along the back of your thighs, slowly journeying upward, tracing a path to the curve of your ass cheek where he playfully sank his teeth into the plump flesh, eliciting a shudder that rippled through your body.
You suppressed a moan, the sound caught in your throat as his hands found purchase, kneading and groping the sensitive flesh between his digits.
“Matty..."
A low hum of satisfaction reverberated against your skin as he continued his exploration, his fingers deftly hooking around the band of your leggings and underwear. With a teasing tug, he began to pull them down your thighs, revealing the fresh expanse of your skin inch by tantalizing inch.
"Shh," he cooed. “Beautiful girl.”
The breath in your chest was a rapid circle, your entire body trembling with desperation. The moment your pants were off, you felt Mattheo's hands shifting to his own, a soft groan escaping him as he freed himself from the confining material. Without hesitation, he loomed over you, his presence dominating as he leaned forward to snake a hand around your throat, forcing your head in place, facing the TV as he aligned himself with your centre.
"Since you're having trouble focusing, I'll help you," his fingers wrapped around your jaw, his breath hot on your ear. "My good fuckin' girl."
A cyclone was roaring in your brain, tearing apart coherent trains of thought with primitive, physical clamoring. You felt him glide the head of his cock between your thighs, slicking himself in the wetness he'd caused, teasing you with false thrusts before he finally pushed in, spearing you open with one long, deep, slow thrust.
"Fuck." His breath was a hidden hiss through his teeth as you groaned, walls clenching around his cock. "Been waiting all day for this, baby. Fuckin’ tight little pussy."
His grip intensified on your jaw, his breath washing warm over your ear as he pulled out slowly and slammed back in. You couldn't think, couldn't speak--brain already cock-drunk, inebriated by lust.
"Matty," you gasped, gripping the wrist to the hand holding your head in place. "Fuck."
"Mhm, that's right," his voice was shattered, his tone strained against his throat. Each thrust was deeper, harder, faster than the last one, his curls tickling your cheek as he nuzzled his head in the crook of your neck--warm, wet lips pressing against your pulse. "So fucking tight. Fuck, I missed this--fuckin’ missed you."
You whimpered, struggling with every ounce of your existence to keep your eyes open, to remain focused on the glowing box infront of you--but you weren't even sure if Mattheo cared much about that anymore. Even without seeing his face you knew he was above you, looking down--teeth barred, jaw tensed and pupils blown wide with lust.
You knew he was just as gone as you were.
"Fuck," Mattheo snarled, fucking deeper, his hips smacking against your ass with every angry thrust, drowning out the sounds of the show. His hand moved under your belly, reaching for your clit and quickly connecting with it, causing you to writhe and spasm against his hold. "How's that feel, princess."
Little choked moans left you while your jaw hung slack, his cock pounding into you--then his fingers hit just the right spot, and the massive, asphyxiating pressure inside of you bordered on the very edge of exploding.
"Fuck," you replied, as though it was the only word that you seemed capable of reliably saying. "Fuck—good, Matty...so good..."
"That's right," he muttered. "You're so beautiful like this, so fucking perfect." He held you fast, pounding your cunt, catching groans in his throat. "You have no idea what you do to me."
You groaned. His words alone were enough to make your head spin. "Fuck—"
Delirium ascended into ecstasy, pleasure amplified by the stretch of his dick fucking you deep. His weight pinned you to the mattress, his hand holding your head firm as he growled in your ear with each harsh thrust, pent up sexual tension pouring off of him and threatening to drown you beneath it.
"Mhm. Little slut. Dumbed out on my cock." A low moan left you, the heat and friction and feverish thrusts sending your sanity to space. His fingers circled your clit faster, and you tweaked, eyes rolling. "Poor thing couldn't even focus on the screen if she tried, could she?"
"No—fuck, I can't." Bliss burned to burst, stars swarmed your sight entirely, and you knew it, knew it was happening, knew that you were about to break. "I—I wanna' cum for you, Matty...please..."
"Go ahead, princess." He cooed. "Cum for me."
You clamped down on his swollen length, your orgasm cleaving you in half as you shook with euphoria, heat and pleasure tearing all the way to your fingertips and toes. Mattheo keened, grip on your jaw turning almost painfully tight as he groaned and drove into you with a final thrust, cum spilling into you, hips snapping while he convulsed with the tremors of his falling climax.
The room was spinning, your bodies stuck with sweat, every breath of air too hot, too thick with sex. Your boyfriend's face was still nestled into your neck, and, exhausted too, you let your head be entirely supported by his hand, exhaling a long, trembling breath.
After a moment, Mattheo rolled off and slumped down onto the mattress beside you, grinning. “Good thing we can just rewind, hm?”
You grinned, letting out a breathy laugh as he pulled you into his chest. “You’re something else, Mr. Riddle.”
CHRISTMAS MAGIC - On a snow-covered weekend in Hogsmeade, you and your friend group set aside the usual tension and trade it for laughter, hot chocolate, and a completely chaotic snowball fight. Pansy is being anything but subtle about her feelings for Draco, Theo and Blaise are arguing like it is their favourite sport, and Enzo has more energy than the rest of you combined. It feels like just another winter trip, loud and a little ridiculous in the best way. Then the night shifts without anyone quite noticing. Lanterns float gently above the streets, tall Christmas trees glow in the dark, and everything seems softer somehow. In the middle of it all, Mattheo Riddle pulls you close and makes the cold feel distant. Winter might be freezing, but being wrapped up in him and surrounded by this messy little found family feels like the safest, warmest kind of magic.
POST BREAK-UP PARTY - At a crowded, slytherin party, Y/n is shaken when she spots her ex, Mattheo Riddle, across the room, their unresolved breakup still raw. Overwhelmed, she escapes to the balcony for air, but Mattheo follows, and a tense, vulnerable conversation unfolds. They admit how much the breakup hurt, that they both were at fault, and that they still love and miss each other, even though he fears hurting her again.
DON’T GET US CAUGHT - Y/N Berkshire is stretched out on one of the common room sofas when her twin brother Enzo walks in, Mattheo Riddle right behind him. She keeps her expression carefully neutral, even though her heart gives her away for a second. No one knows she and Mattheo are together. That part is still theirs. Enzo barely stays long, already talking about heading out for a smoke with Draco. The moment he disappears through the portrait hole, Mattheo doesn’t follow. He lingers instead, hanging back in the quiet common room, his attention settling on her in a way that feels anything but casual.
By: @cipheress-to-k-pop
family lines (series) full masterlist - Curly brown hair? Brown eyes? You must be a Riddle.
party on you, part of you knew - Mattheo had been losing his belongings, forgetting things, and feeling uneasy about that random girl who was always staring at him. His solution? Blame Theodore. It's always that damn astronomy tower.
lost in translation - Mattheo Riddle has never confessed to anyone, which is why his first attempt went so badly
beauty and the beast - Mattheo Riddle, the infamous heartbreaker, gets his heart broken.
By: @sabxynsweet
bitchy!reader gets mad at mattheo
mattheo's only nice to sweetheart!reader
mattheo watches sweetheart!reader get ready
By: @lotusnleaves
HEAVY LIFTING - Boxer!Mattheo who takes it as a personal challange everytime you question how strong he really is.
HOT BLOODED! - Boxer! Mattheo who doesn't take disrespect lightly especially not when it's towards his Girlfriend
By: @sadnymi
No one noticed
Shakespeare - Your obsession with Shakespeare is driving mattheo insane. And now he found himself jealous of fictional characters and a long-dead playwright.
I love you, I’m sorry.
Is somebody gonna match my freak? - who’s gonna match your freak ? Mattheo would , p.s( Draco playing Cupid and your biggest fan)
By: @redeemingvillains
dove - fed up with the way the slytherin boys create chaos without consequence, someone seeks to bring them down a notch by going after the one thing their strongest loves most: you.
riddle's girl - mattheo has…feelings about you wearing his quidditch jersey.
slightly jealous & possessive mattheo
veritaserum - when mattheo drinks veritaserum on a bet, he's confident he doesn't have anything to hide... until you show up.
the playlist - enzo overhears something about you he shouldn't have and when he tells his friends, all hell breaks loose
the mixup - one of the house elves makes a mistake with the laundry. or, the time you left four friends speechless and your best friend drooling.
By: @riddlesrizzler
Hearts and Initials - You hadn't meant for him to see it...
Manchild - But one day, when he forgets to show up-again-I hope you remember who did.
Pride and Prejudice - You have bewitched me, body and soul, and I love, love, love you.
The World Ended When it Happened to Me
The Only Exception - That awful realization, day by day, moment by moment, that she was the exception. To everything.
Snickerdoodles
By: @serpentkissess
Little Minx - reader & mattheo bullying pansy when she starts talking about you a bit too loudly.
mattheo & his yapper gf
Silly muggle trend.
By: @rafesslxt
WRONG TIE - y/n noticed a little too late what tie she is wearing.. explains the dirty looks her house gave her
reading - mattheo finally get‘s to see what you‘re really reading
By: @wordsarelife
this love - mattheo finally asks you to be his girlfriend
endgame - mattheo is absolutely in love with you, but now it seems like he spent a bit too long not telling you that
so it goes - you’ve always thought mattheo riddle was infuriating, until suddenly everything between you changes. between various almost kisses, whispered confessions, and years of tension finally snapping, you realize he’s always wanted you. but falling for him? that was never part of your plan, but now, you’re his to keep and his to lose.
By: @cuntrygirlcallista
you need him? i could be him
sweetest sin
by: @kissrot
𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝟏𝟎𝟏 - your brother harry throws off the invisibility cloak mid-prank only to catch you making out with mattheo riddle. rebloged
𝟕 𝐚𝐦: 𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭. 𝟕:𝟎𝟏: 𝐛𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐝 - theo learns the hard way that the only thing worse than a clingy couple is being roommates with them. Rebloged
𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭? 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐭 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐞 - you wanted dessert and a kiss; you got theo’s quidditch monologue and a new tag team against your own boyfriend. Rebloged
Are you ladies alright? - Where Mattheo certainty didn't expect you of all people to open the door. by: @allurearia
Confessions of a best friend - Two oblivious idiot best friends confessing their love for one another after an incident at a party. by: @voidangxls
𝐴𝐹𝑇𝐸𝑅 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝑆𝑇𝑂𝑅𝑀 - you can’t find your boyfriend after an argument, and the castle is surrounded by dementors by: @girllblogging777
drink away by: @malfoyscoffee
do i wanna know, hozier cover. - sometimes, pansy knows exactly how to bring couples together. when mattheo, known for his grumpy mood, finds himself growing closer to a quiet, introspective girl, he must come to terms with feelings he never expected to have. by: @riddleriddles
𝑹𝒆𝒅 𝒍𝒊𝒑𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒌 - Things get a lil heated at a party and you and Mattheo end up in the bathroom, pressed just a little too close to eachother. by: @hogwartsexpr3ss
Eyes on the Quaffle, Riddle by: @iris-qt
Like you love me - you catch your boyfriend looking at you from across the room… by: @adiraargent
Switching ties - It happened with two ties, one red and gold and the other green and silver. It only took one mistake for all of Hogwarts to find out. by: @wbellab
lucky i love you - you and matthéo had an argument the night before, and he still hasn’t apologized. by: @ageofstarkey
TEAR YOU APART. - mattheo riddle realizes that he is not above the obsession that runs through the riddle family's blood. by: @govnder
tease - mattheo asks you to be his valentines by: @lov3notts
my lifeline - in which you’re his only purpose in life by: @cutielando
No title - Mattheo hates being touched, and he especially hates being patched up after games. But what can he do when you insist? by: @ixve-fool
By: @serpentkissess
breast obsession w/ mattheo (18+)
gym bro mattheo likes when you bite him (18+)
keep talking - mattheo is used to quiet and pliant girls in bed so, imagine his surprise when you talk more than him. (18+)
mattheo being a good boy (18+)
Is it in yet? (18+)
who's gonna fuck you like me? (18+)
was it worth it? - mattheo's punishment for his brat girlfriend backfires, leaving him no choice but to punish you in a different way. (18+)
a man starved (18+)
By: @prythiansprincess
azúcar. (18+)
playwithfire. (18+)
Focus on me. (18+)
By: @torturedpoetism
Down Bad - trying to find Mattheo after he stood you up for studying, you find him and get more than you bargained for. (18+)
P✩rnstar - After break, you bring a video camera back to Hogwarts from the muggle world and teach Mattheo how to use it. (18+)
stress relief - What should be a study sesh at Three Broomsticks takes an unexpected turn when Mattheo finds a very personal way to help you unwind before your friends show up. (18+)
serpent and the bunny - Mattheo gets his payback after you make him jealous during potions (18+)
𝐔𝐧𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐲 - Mattheo gets mad when he realizes your Halloween costume is nothing like he expected. (18+)
freaks come out at night - On your trip to Hogsmeade to indulge in the Halloween activities Mattheo gets ahold of you. Forcing you to confront both your feelings for him and your own wavering sanity. (18+)
By: @sadnymi
no title (18+)
Mastermind (18+)
By: @gibsluv
𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 (18+)
𝐅𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐄 (18+)
flashing mattheo during an argument by: @theosbaby (18+)
bsf mattheo riddle x hufflepuff reader by: @slytherinboysvip (18+)
candy canes by: @nottendo (18+)
again? by: @malfoyscoffee (18+)
Fuckin Mattheo in the bath while high reposted by: @louierecs (18+)
I could always just sit? by: @cloveswifey (18+)
suctions and sanctions - you are always so attentive when leaving the shower, cleaning after yourself with maximum attention. this time, you somehow forgot to pack away a very important object — your dildo. your roommate mattheo stumbles upon it by accident and he doesn’t let the opportunity slip between his fingers. next time, be more careful, sweetheart! by: @dearmisshoney (18+)
play stupid games (win dangerous prizes) - you spend all day pushing mattheo’s buttons… until he finally snaps. by: @vtfsajra (18+)
TAKE IT - Boxer!Mathheo whose got a huge size kink and swears he can make it fit, after all he's not a quitter so why would his Gf be? by: @lotusnleaves (18+)
.✦ ݁˖ legend * indicates smut. All characters are aged up as consenting adults. MDNI 18+ blog, read all warnings and note I am not responsible for your media consumption.
.✦ ݁˖ oneshots
fu in my head, pt 2
bound*
best friend's brother
don't be so underestimating*
watch your mouth*
caught up in relaxation*
sunglasses at night
the hanging fear
ignited reunion*
a clumsy grab
hidden strengths
sucking isn't always bad*
a whole lot of pink
succumb to the lust*
she will be loved, part 2*, epilogue
carousel
the trouble with you
speed dating
midnight dates
.✦ ݁˖ quick reads
ass date hc
gentle lover
lay all your love
fuckin in the bath*
summer's afternoon*
toxic bf hc
sleepy boy
guard dog couple
nightmares
lazy mornings
carnival hc
life with theo hc
worm
precious
.✦ ݁˖ AUs
fast and furious
In which the slytherin boys (Mattheo, Lorenzo, Theodore, Draco and Blaise_ and their famous girls (Y/N, Daphne, Astoria and Pansy) aren't just the deadliest friend group...but also a friend group that fucks each other on the down low.
(Please note it begins as suggestive mentions of smut and more group dynamic, but it WILL be going into smut soon and I will write beside it if it includes actual full-fledged written smut. Reader will have more of a liking to theodore (like fully confesses love type liking)
PART1- INITATION NIGHT - Where Y/N sits with the friend group at a party and begins her initiation with Theodore (who knew it would be so easy?) (SUGGESTIVE)
PART2- WORDS BEHIND WALS- It's been two months since Y/N joined the group, let's see just how she's doing...and just how easy miscommunication is when she thinks the boys are talking about her behind her back! (HURT/COMFORT)
PART3- NO NUT NOVEMBER- The boys partake in no nut November, the girls are determined to break them. (SMUT- THEODORE)
PART4 - SUPER RICH KIDS - In which Y/N finds it hard to keep up with the rich hobbies of her group. (SUBTLE HURT/COMFORT)
PART5- SWEET AND SOUR - When the sweetest boy of the group gets stressed and doesn’t want to bother, you make sure to relieve him (SMUT- LORENZO)
PART5- THE YULE BALL AND THEODORE NOTT'S BROKEN HEART- Every year for the Yule Ball, the girls go with the boys. Even before they turned into what they are now, as good friends they’d all go. Now that you’re here, you think Theodore might ask you, but the girls tell you he’s never asked anyone. So, you end up going with Cormac, but this won't end like you expect it to, nor does anyone else.
PART6 (CONTINUATION TO PART 5)- NEVER FUCK WITH US OR OUR GIRLS - When you get back together with Cormac, and Adrian Pucey and Astoria fall in love, the group deals with their betrayal, and Theodore and Draco realize they have lost their girls. However, a certain trio thinks something is off...
PART 7- SUPER SOAKER- When Lorenzo makes you squirt for the first time, the other guys decide to step up their game. (SMUT- ENZO AND MATTHEO)
PART 8- BEST OF BOTH WORLDS- Once again, you and Lorenzo are studying for your exams, just your in a state of not giving a shit and cuddling with Theodore while Lorenzo suffers in his dorm. That's when Theo decides you'll BOTH relieve Lorenzo... (SMUT- THEO AND ENZO)
PART9- JEALOUSY, JEALOUSY- You get asked out to a party by none other than Draco's enemy, Harry Potter, and after discussion, you decide to secretly go, but you weren't as secretive as you thought you were. (SMUT- DRACO)
PART 10- WHO WOULD THINK OF SNAPE?!- When the group first started, the boys told you the safe word was Snape- because if your mind EVER went to Snape during sex that's clearly saying how bad it was. You've gone almost a year strong without using the safe word, but everyone reaches their limit.
PART 11- BIRTHDAYS SUCK ANYWAY- The group seemingly forgets your birthday
PART 12- SHARING IS CARING- Mattheo and Theodore are best friends, they share everything, and often, that means you and Daphne. (SMUT)
PART 13- PURITY (TABOO)- When the boys find out your a muggleborn, you begin to think it's over- what would they want to do with a dirty mudblood like you? But to them, the only difference is you just don't have enough pureblood cum in you, and lucky for you, your boys are all purebloods.
PART 14- OWNED- The boys tease Enzo for always being so desperate for you, so Y/N shows them that she could realistically ruin any of them by ruining the dominant of the group- Mattheo.
PART 15- MOVIE NIGHT! - You all have a movie night in the common room, but with Blaise and Theodore at either side of you, this won't be a normal night under the blankets.
PART 16- GAME NIGHT- It's the end of the week, all the stress from tests and homework and stupid essays leaving your bodies as you all spend time in the common room. Then Blaise suggests a game of UNO that turns the night around VERY fast. (special because it's an orgy. NO DAPHNE)
PART 17- SPECIAL CHAPTER- The girls and you must go an entire school day with vibrators attached to your pussies that the boys control.
PART 18- Brat taming with Draco and Blaise
PART 19- Theodore and you wonder who fucks Lorenzo the best? And when he can't choose, you both spend a whole week ruining him.
PART 20- How each of the slytherin boys do aftercare
PART 21- How Slytherins party, (or more how freaky the boys get with you and the girls by taking shots off you all)
PART 22- You get jealous seeing a girl flirt with Theodore all night long, and instead of thinking about sex (for the first time ever) you begin to wonder about your relationship with Theodore, especially once you both graduate (FLUFFF, some hurt/comfort)
PART 23- Christmas at Hogwarts but everyone chooses to go home- except Mattheo, given Potter killed his dad during the second war just a year ago, and you, since your parents don't give a shit about you. Wonder how that's gonna go (ANGSTT, hurt/comfort, realized reader and mattheo don't have a lot of normal scenes)
⟡ warnings: 18+ content (mdni), f! reader, creampies, oral sex [m&f], cum swallowing, wall sex, public sex & exhibitionism, degradation, fingering, squirting, sex against a window, not proofread !!
⟡ xoxo, juno: my heart goes out to the neglected haikyuu fans on my blog. this is for you <3
— MIYA ATSUMU.
“tsumu,” you pant, head falling back into the lockers behind you with a small thud that’s unheard over the sound of skin against skin.
you’re balancing on one jelly-like leg, back pressed into the lockers, the other leg hanging on his arm, toes curling. “oh, right there, tsumu, please,” a breathy whimper leaves your parted lips, and he angles his hips slightly, snapping his cock into you harder. each thrust punches the air out of your lungs, and atsumu knows he won’t be able to last much longer if you keep clenching like this, your pretty face scrunched with pleasure from him.
“fuck, babe— ughhh, yer so pretty like this..” he buries his face in your neck, the pace of his hips becoming unsteady and erratic as he gets closer and closer to coming undone inside you. in the not so far distance, you hear talking and laughing, but ignore it.
your pussy throbs, gummy walls sucking him deep, and he groans out your name, pressing you harder into the lockers. “mmmh, ‘m gonna cum, where d’ya—”
“inside, want it in me,” you cut him off with a whiny plea, “want it dripping out while i watch the game.”
your hand races to press into the small of his back, in an attempt to make sure he doesn’t pull away or out. with a grumble of your name that makes his chest shake, he cums inside of you, just as a door opens nearby.
“tsumu,” you whisper in a panic when he doesn’t make any move to pull out after a few seconds, effectively plugging you full of his cum, “we have to get dressed for your game, y-your friends—”
“nah,” atsumu huffs, staring at your flexing pussy; his cum drips from you, slipping down your thighs mesmerizingly. he practically has hearts in his eyes looking up and down your body.
“i think we’re a little early, kiyoomi,” hinata’s bright voice is suddenly a few rows of lockers away.
“prep before a game is most important,” sakusa replies sternly, “practice and a shower before always guarantees a win, shōyo.”
atsumu’s already in his shorts, helping you pull on an msby jersey, stamped with his number on the back. his cum drips from your cunt as you quickly move past his teammates with a wave, mumbling a dumb excuse as you race out the door.
“atsumu,” sakusa pulls on his mask almost immediately, his guard up. “surely you noticed your girlfriend wearing the jersey backwards.”
— BOKUTO KŌTARŌ.
“you’re gonna win, kou, i promise,” you interrupt your boyfriend’s enthusiastic and nervous rambling, lips trailing over his inner thighs.
“i-i know, but this game is important!” he emphasizes, swallowing thickly as your fingers hook into the waistband of his shorts and boxers. the clothing slides down his thighs, settling at his knees, and you inch closer to his cock — rock hard, hot to the touch, tip sticky with precum.
bokuto chokes out a hushed groan, tangling his fingers in your hair and cupping the back of your head the second you take him into your mouth. he helps you take his entire length into your mouth, spurring you on with his whines and mumbled curses.
“b-baby, fuck, you’re so perfect, ughhh—”
you choke when you finally make it all the way down to his base, your nose practically touching the coarse hair covering his pelvis. eager hands begin to guide you up and down, his tip hitting the back of your throat as you move. bokuto gasps out a string of hazy apologies when he heard you gag particularly hard, but he doesn’t stop— instead, he cups the back of your head firmly and fucks up into your mouth, the movement of his hips sloppy.
“y-you wan’ me to win, right?” his head drops back, the creaky sounds of the locker room bench growing louder beneath him. with your one of your hands positioned on the wood for support, you feel the bench shaking hard.
you nod, your eyes moving from his abs up to his scrunched face; he’s biting down on his bottom lip, worrying it between his teeth, his golden eyes half lidded and teary.
it’s almost filthy, the way bokuto rises off the bench, pushing you away from him before cupping the back of your head— he draws his hips back, leaving his tip in your mouth, then slams all the way inside.
tears spring to your eyes at the force, and you only move closer to him to allow him to use your mouth, or his ‘good luck charm’ before games.
“hahhh, that’s right, take it just like that,” bokuto grunts, “god, you’re gonna make me cum.”
heat rushes through your body and pools in your pelvis, wetting your panties at his words; his well muscled chest, gleaming with sweat, rises and falls rapidly as he pants. as his orgasm approaches, his thighs and abs tense as he buries himself deep in your throat, pulling you close to his pelvis.
his cock thickens on your tongue, throbbing as he finally fills up your throat with his cum; still sensitive, he whimpers as you swallow around him. slowly, bokuto pulls out of your mouth, his cock still hard.
he quickly pulls up his shorts, tugs you to your feet, and gives you a tight hug. “i’m gonna win today, and it’s all cause of you!” he mumbles excitedly into your neck.
“sounds good, kou,” you laugh, rubbing his back. “after the game, meet me back in the locker room, ‘kay?”
— IWAIZUMI HAJIME.
“mmmh, princess— loosen up a little for me, can barely move,” hajime hisses into your ear, spreading your thighs a little wider with his free hand. he curls his fingers inside you, prodding at your sweet spot and stretching out your tight pussy with their girth.
your nails press crescents into his strong shoulders through his shirt as you hold him for support in humping yourself onto his fingers. “t-thank you, haji, i needed this, ah!” your voice cracks when he starts to scissor his fingers in and out of you at an unforgiving pace.
“‘course, baby..” he leans in for a chaste kiss, his olive eyes closing as his lips touch yours.
despite being a hardass with his team, shouting and sometimes even swearing at them, hajime would always be gentle and loving with you all the time. often, you are his outlet when it comes to letting off steam — either through soft or rougher sex.
although he’s disciplined and strong willed, he always melts when you cling to him, eyes shining as you take his hand in yours, guiding him inside your shorts to feel your damp panties. “need you, haji,” was all you’d said earlier, and then he had you on his lap with his big fingers buried in your cunt, the two of you tucked away beneath the bleachers of the gym, right before practice starts. hajime always has time for you.
“o-oh, hajime!” you cry, pushing your face into his chest, feeling the muscle beneath his fitted shirt, “i’m c-cumming, ‘m—”
your hips jerk backwards, his fingers slipping out of you, and your face burns as you squirt all over his lap, his hands, and yourself. a sharp gasp leaves you when you realize you’ve soaked him and his clothes, right before practice.
“h-hajime, i’m so sorry, i—”
he cuts you off by grabbing your chin firmly, tugging you to look at him. “don’t be, babygirl,” he lets you go and slowly starts to slide you off his lap, gesturing for you to stand up.
“i just wanted to make you cum, it’s okay, i still have some time to change,” he murmurs, getting on his knees and wasting the changing time; his tongue slides over your wet inner thighs, and he starts to lick up your cum.
your hands tangle in his dark hair, and you pull him closer to your dripping pussy, eyes rolling back when he presses a wet kiss to your clit.
— KUROO TETSURŌ.
“wow, couldn’t even wait till my lunch break, huh? w-what—shit, so tight—a slut.”
kuroo’s words are shaky, grunted out from above you as he fucks you, bent over with your palms pressed against the window. the glass is smeared with the combination of perspiration and your scented lotion that makes him go insane, the one that has him grabbing you all over.
“harder, tetsu..” you whisper, toes curling in your socks; your short skirt is flipped up, panties wet and pulled to the side. he’s supposed to be leaving his office for a meeting in the next 5 minutes, but when you showed up all pretty and flashed him just a little, he couldn’t resist.
the door wasn’t even closed, and here he was pushing his cock inside you and sliding his large hands under your shirt to grab at your tits.
“you like me fuckin’ you with the door open, right in front of the window, hm? fucking you just like a whore, baby.”
your puffy cunt clenches hard around his cock, and your head falls forward with a needy mewl, drinking in the sight of kuroo’s balls smacking into your clit, his cock pounding in and out of you.
“oh?” he slaps your ass, drawing a whimper from your lips that has him gritting his teeth and tossing his head back, “you like being called a whore, don’t you? you like me using your—ughhh, fuck!—s-slutty pussy like this, yeah?”
“yes, tetsu, god yes,” you keen, hands sliding down the glass as your eyes roll back and your back arches for him, “don’t stop don’t stop, please—”
you hope kuroo will be able to cum before his assistant comes by to remind him of the meeting that’s only a few minutes away — you hear her pushing away from her desk to come to his office, and you can’t find it in yourself to care or be any quieter.
no thoughts, just iwaizumi fucking you against your desk—you’re lying on top of your mounds of homework for uni, some papers crumpling from the movement, your computer in sleep mode from lack of use. your shorts and underwear decorate your ankle on the floor while your other leg is propped up on the chair, giving him that perfect angle to hit that sweet little spot that has you seeing stars and creaming all on him.
his hands grip your hips in a deliciously bruising hold as he fucks the stress out of you, whispering in your ear how you’re his smart girl who just works too damn hard. his smart girl who loves to go absolutely dumb from his fucking cock.
and when his smart girl is stressed… of course he’s gonna make you feel better.
“hajime—” your voice more of a breathy whine than a moan, “—fuck fuck—s’good, soo—ohh good.”
“yeah?” iwaizumi grabs a fistful of hair and pulls your head back to look at him. your eyes are glazed over in a beautiful, heady daze, reserved only for him. “am i fucking my princess dumb? can’t think about anything else?”
drool trickles down your chin as you babble out words you can barely articulate. “only you—fuck— oh my god… haji, ’m gonna—“
his hand comes down to your puffy little clit and rubs it just right for you to turn into a loud, whimpering mess. “c’mon—come for me, princess,” he groans, fucking you through it. he feels you clench around him, paired with a strangled, “‘m gonna make a mess! hajime!” before you finish—white clouding your vision. he groans as he nears his own finish, making sure you were finished with your own high before pulling out and jerking himself to come all over the swell of your ass.
and it’s been proven that every time he helps relieve your stress, you lock in and finish all your required assignments and get ahead on more. which, in turn, just means iwaizumi gets to tell you just how wonderful and smart his pretty girl is…
10.31, kinktober friday four – 4 big guys feat. seijoh 4
pairing: frat boys!iwaizumi, matsukawa, oikawa & hanamaki x freshaman fem!reader
cw: MDNI, nsfw, seniors vs. freshman, gangbang, fingering, edging, dirty talk, cunnilingus, multiple orgasms, messy blowjob, cum on tits, big dick mattsun (again), size difference, p in v, unprotected, backshots, hair pulling, spanking, creampie, double penetration, anal, double creampie & more!
the chill in the autumn air bit at your bare legs as you made your way up the familiar steps of the seijoh frat house. the bass thrummed against the soles of your knee-high boots, a promise of the chaos and revelry within. tonight was halloween, and the seniors of seijoh were notorious for throwing the kind of parties that became legend before dawn. as a freshman whose reputation for turning heads preceded her, you'd received a personal, almost imperious, invitation from oikawa himself. not that you needed one, you were the kind of girl who was always on the guest list, even if it was just in the minds of the hosts.
your costume was meticulously chosen, a statement that was both alluring and unsettling. patrick bateman, but with a feminine twist that made it undeniably you. the crisp white dress shirt, slightly unbuttoned to hint at the cleavage beneath, tucked into a black mini skirt that barely skimmed your thighs. a sharp black blazer, a blood-red tie loosened around your neck, and those knee-high boots that added inches to your already statuesque frame. the pièce de résistance was the transparent raincoat, artfully splattered with fake blood, giving you the air of a woman who knew how to handle business, even if that business involved an axe and a huey lewis and the news album. you were a walking dichotomy: polished predator, irresistible prey.
pushing through the front door, you were immediately enveloped by the humid, boozy air, thick with the scent of cheap beer, sweat, and something vaguely herbal, definitely not sage. the house was a labyrinth of bodies, pulsating to the beat of a dubstep remix of a pop song. fairy lights, cobwebs, and plastic skeletons adorned every surface, but the real spectacle was the costumes. you spotted a dozen harley quinns, a few generic vampires, and a surprisingly authentic-looking pennywise.
then, you saw them. the four horsemen of the seijoh apocalypse, holding court in the sprawling living room.
hajime iwaizumi, a brooding, muscular tyler durden, leaned against the archway leading to the kitchen. his iconic red leather jacket hugged his broad shoulders, a cigarette dangling casually from his lips, the smoke curling around his perpetually intense gaze. he was the kind of handsome that didn't need to try, radiating an effortless, primal magnetism. he caught your eye, a slow, knowing smirk playing on his lips, and you felt a familiar flicker of heat in your gut.
beside him, practically glowing under the dim party lights, was toru oikawa. he was ken, but not just any ken. this was the ken, with a perfectly coiffed blonde wig that defied gravity, a pink denim vest, and matching jeans that hugged his toned physique. he was a vision of plastic perfection, utterly ridiculous and utterly captivating. he was holding court, surrounded by a gaggle of girls, his dazzling smile and theatrical gestures drawing all eyes. he spotted you, and his smile widened, a predatory glint in his cerulean eyes that promised mischief. he blew you a kiss, a playful gesture that still managed to make your cheeks flush.
lounging on a beat-up armchair, looking utterly at home amidst the chaos, was issei matsukawa. he was the dude, an almost spiritual embodiment of the big lebowski character. his tattered bathrobe was surprisingly chic, sunglasses perched on his nose despite the dim lighting, and a half-smoked joint held loosely between his fingers. he had that languid, cool confidence that made him irresistible. he raised his joint in a silent salute, his eyes, hidden behind the shades, undoubtedly assessing you.
and finally, perched on the armrest of matsukawa's chair, was takahiro hanamaki. captain jack sparrow, a surprisingly good one at that, complete with dreadlocks, smudged eyeliner, and a perpetually tipsy sway. he was laughing at something matsukawa said, his voice a gravelly chuckle that carried over the music. he saw you, and his mischievous grin widened, a twinkle in his eye that promised debauchery. he gave you a wink that was both charming and utterly inappropriate.
you navigated the throng of bodies, accepting a red solo cup filled with something suspiciously strong, and made your way towards them. the air around them felt different, charged with an almost palpable energy.
"well, well, well, if it isn't our very own patrick bateman," oikawa purred, his voice a smooth caress even over the thumping bass. he took your hand, his touch sending a jolt up your arm, and pressed a dramatic kiss to your knuckles. "looking absolutely killer tonight, darling. though i'm not sure if i should be flattered or terrified."
you chuckled, pulling your hand back, a playful glint in your eyes. "why not both, ken? it's halloween, after all." you gestured to his costume. "though i must say, the pink is… bold."
"only for the boldest of kens," he preened, striking a pose.
iwaizumi, ever the stoic one, took a drag from his cigarette. "don't encourage him, y/n. he's already insufferable enough." but there was a hint of affection in his tone. he looked you up and down, his gaze lingering on the bloodstains on your raincoat. "nice touch with the blood. really sells the i just murdered someone vibe."
"thanks, tyler," you replied, meeting his gaze evenly. "it's all in the details, y'know?"
matsukawa, from behind his sunglasses, finally spoke, his voice a low rumble. "dig the outfit, man. very… american psycho." he offered you his joint. "care for a hit?"
you took a drag from your drink, the potent mix burning a pleasant path down your throat. "don't mind if i do, dude." you accepted the joint, taking a slow, deep inhale, the familiar burn spreading through your lungs. you held it, then exhaled slowly, watching the smoke curl around your lips. the world around you seemed to soften at the edges, the music becoming more immersive.
makki, leaning closer, his jack sparrow accent surprisingly convincing, slurred, "careful, lass. that stuff'll make ye see double. or maybe that's just the rum." he winked, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
you laughed, handing the joint back to matsukawa. "i think i can handle it, captain." you took another sip of your drink, feeling the alcohol and weed starting to meld into a warm, buzzy haze. the conversation flowed easily, a mix of witty banter, exaggerated party stories, and increasingly flirtatious remarks. you found yourself drawn into their orbit, the undeniable chemistry between the five of you crackling in the air.
hours bled into each other. more drinks were consumed, more joints passed around. the crowd in the living room had thinned slightly, but a core group remained, sprawled on beanbags, couches, and the floor. the music had shifted to something a little more chill, a little more psychedelic. someone suggested a game.
"spin the bottle!" a girl with cat ears shrieked, her voice slightly slurred.
a collective groan went through the group, but it was quickly overridden by a chorus of "why not?" and "let's do it!"
a large, empty liquor bottle was produced, its label long since peeled off. the group formed a loose circle on the floor, you finding yourself nestled between makki and oikawa, with iwaizumi across from you and matsukawa a little further down. the air was thick with anticipation, the scent of cannabis and cheap perfume mingling with something undeniably primal.
the first few rounds were innocuous. a kiss on the cheek, a silly dare. the bottle spun, landed on a guy, then a girl, then back again. laughter, groans, and the occasional awkward peck. the alcohol and weed had lowered inhibitions, making everyone more daring, more open.
then, it was the cat-eared girl's turn again. she giggled, giving the bottle a hefty flick. it spun, a blur of glass and potential, slowly losing momentum. your eyes followed it, a strange sense of inevitability settling over you. it wobbled, teetered, and then, with a soft clink, came to a complete stop.
the neck pointed directly at you.
a hush fell over the group, followed by a ripple of excited whispers. all eyes were on you, then on the cat-eared girl. her grin widened, a mischievous glint in her eyes.
"alright, y/n," she slurred, her voice laced with playful challenge. "truth or dare?"
you met her gaze, a slow smile spreading across your lips. "dare." you weren't one to back down from a challenge, especially not tonight.
she giggled, then leaned forward, her eyes darting between you and the four seijoh seniors. a slow, wicked grin spread across her face. "i dare you…" she began, drawing out the words for dramatic effect, "to fuck with all four of them. tonight. right here." she gestured grandly at the four men surrounding you.
a collective gasp went through the group, followed by hoots and whistles. your heart hammered in your chest, a thrill of adrenaline shooting through you. you glanced at the four men. iwaizumi's eyes were sharp, assessing, a faint flush on his cheeks. oikawa's playful smirk had transformed into something darker, more intense, his gaze fixed on you like a predator. matsukawa had pushed his sunglasses up, his eyes wide and unblinking, a look of genuine surprise mixed with something else, something hungry. makki, still leaning close, had a wolfish grin, his eyes practically gleaming in the dim light.
you took a slow sip of your drink, letting the moment hang in the air. the dare was audacious, scandalous, precisely the kind of thing that would become legend. and you? you were exactly the kind of girl to accept it.
you lowered your cup, your eyes sweeping over each of them, a slow, confident smile gracing your lips. "well, boys," you purred, your voice low and husky, "looks like you just won the lottery."
the living room erupted. the cat-eared girl shrieked in delight, high-fiving her friends. the other partygoers started chanting, "do it! do it! do it!"
oikawa was the first to move, his hand snaking around your waist, pulling you closer until your hips brushed against his. his eyes, usually so full of playful mischief, were now burning with an unadulterated desire. "oh, darling," he whispered, his breath warm against your ear, "you have no idea how long i've been waiting for a dare like this."
iwaizumi pushed himself off the wall, his gaze never leaving yours. the intensity in his eyes was almost palpable. matsukawa slowly took off his sunglasses, his eyes now fully visible, dark and smoldering. makki chuckled, a low, guttural sound, his hand finding your thigh and giving it a possessive squeeze.
you felt a surge of power, an exhilarating rush of control. you were the center of attention, the object of their collective desire, and you were ready to play.
"alright, party's over, folks!" iwaizumi's voice boomed, cutting through the noise. "show's about to begin, and it's a private viewing." his tone left no room for argument. slowly, reluctantly, the other partygoers began to disperse, some still glancing over their shoulders, whispering excitedly. the cat-eared girl gave you a thumbs-up and a triumphant grin before being herded out by her friends.
soon, the living room was empty save for the five of you. the music still played, but it felt like a distant hum, the real soundtrack now the thumping of your heart and the heavy breathing of the men around you. the air was thick with anticipation, a raw, sexual tension that was almost suffocating.
oikawa pulled you to your feet, his hands never leaving your waist. he spun you around gently, his eyes devouring every inch of your costume. "so, patrick bateman," he murmured, his voice a low growl, "ready to unleash your inner psycho?"
you met his gaze, a playful challenge in your eyes. "are you ready to be my victim, ken?"
he chuckled, a dark, throaty sound. "i've been dying to be your victim." he pulled you closer still, his body pressing against yours.
and then his lips were on yours.
it was a kiss that was both sweet and savage, a slow burn that quickly ignited into a raging fire. his lips were soft, yet demanding, tasting of alcohol and desire. his tongue traced the seam of your lips, asking for entry, and you readily granted it. his tongue danced with yours, a sensual tango that left you breathless. his hands moved from your waist, tracing the curve of your spine, pulling you even tighter against him until there was no space left between your bodies.
as oikawa deepened the kiss, his fingers deftly unbuttoned the top buttons of your white dress shirt, sliding inside to caress the soft skin of your cleavage. you whimpered softly into his mouth, your hands tangling in his blonde wig, pulling gently.
then, his fingers, long and elegant, slipped under the hem of your mini skirt, brushing against your bare thigh. a shiver ran through you. he trailed his fingers higher, teasing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, making you arch into his touch. his thumb brushed against the lace of your panties, sending a jolt of pure arousal straight to your core.
"you're already so wet for me, aren't you, doll?" he whispered against your lips, his voice husky with desire.
you could only nod, your breath catching in your throat as his fingers found your clit, circling it gently through the fabric. your hips instinctively bucked against his hand. he chuckled, a low, satisfied sound, and then, with a practiced ease, he slipped his fingers under the lace, parting your folds and sinking into your slick heat.
a gasp escaped your lips as his fingers began to work their magic. he knew exactly where to touch, how to stroke, how to tease. one finger, then two, plunged inside you, stretching you, filling you with an exquisite pressure. his thumb continued to circle your clit, drawing out whimpers and moans that you couldn't suppress.
"fuck, you feel incredible," he breathed against your neck, his lips trailing hot kisses along your jawline. "so tight, so wet. just like i imagined."
you clutched at his pink denim vest, your nails digging into the fabric as he picked up the pace, his fingers moving in and out, teasing your sweet spot with every thrust. your legs began to tremble, your hips grinding against his hand, desperate for more.
the other three watched, their eyes burning with hunger. iwaizumi's jaw was clenched, his eyes dark with desire. matsukawa had shed his bathrobe, standing in just a t-shirt and boxers, his erection clearly visible. makki was leaning forward, his breath coming in ragged gasps, his hand subtly stroking his growing bulge.
"look at her," oikawa whispered, pulling his lips from your neck just enough for you to hear, his eyes still locked with yours, "so beautiful, so responsive... you're making me so fucking hard, darling." he pushed his fingers deeper, hitting a spot that sent shivers down your spine. your back arched, your head falling back, a guttural moan escaping your lips.
"more… please… more…" you panted, your voice barely a whisper.
he grinned, a wicked, triumphant glint in his eyes. "as you wish, my love." he intensified his rhythm, his fingers moving faster, deeper, his thumb relentlessly teasing your clit. your vision blurred, your body tightening, sensations overwhelming your senses. you were on the brink, teetering on the edge of a precipice.
just as you felt the first tremors of an orgasm building, he pulled his fingers out, leaving you gasping, desperate, and utterly undone.
"no!" you cried out, your voice raw with frustration.
he chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "patience, darling. we're just getting started." he looked at iwaizumi, a silent communication passing between them. "i think it's tyler's turn to clean up my mess."
iwaizumi, his eyes still blazing with unfulfilled desire, strode forward, his red leather jacket rustling. he pushed oikawa aside, his strong hands taking your waist. he lowered you to the floor, guiding you to sit on the edge of the large, plush rug. you were still panting, your body humming with unreleased tension.
he knelt before you, his gaze locked on your eyes, a silent question passing between you. you nodded, your breath catching in your throat. he gently pushed your mini skirt higher, revealing your wet, swollen pussy. the sight of it, glistening and exposed, made you gasp.
his eyes devoured you, a primal hunger in their depths. he leaned forward, darting his tongue out to taste the very essence of you. a shiver ran through your entire body as his hot, wet tongue made contact with your clit.
"fuck," you moaned, your hands fisting in his dark hair, pulling him closer.
he began to lap at you, his tongue tracing patterns, swirling around your clit, dipping into your folds, sucking gently. the sensation was exquisite, driving you insane. you arched your back, pressing yourself against his mouth, desperate for more. his lips were soft, yet firm, his tongue a masterful instrument of pleasure. he ate you with a fierce intensity, his breath hot against your sensitive skin.
"god, haji," you gasped, using the familiar nickname, "you're so good at this."
he groaned, a low, guttural sound from deep in his throat, his tongue never breaking rhythm. he sucked harder, his lips pulling at your clit, making you writhe with pleasure. your legs trembled uncontrollably, your fingers digging into his scalp. you were close, so incredibly close.
"you're so wet, baby," he mumbled against your pussy, his voice muffled but undeniably hot. "so fucking delicious."
with a final, powerful suck, he sent you over the edge. your body convulsed, a wave of pure, unadulterated pleasure washing over you. you cried out, a loud, uninhibited moan that echoed in the suddenly silent room. your orgasm was intense, a full-body tremor that left you weak and breathless, your muscles spasming.
he pulled away slightly, his face smeared with your juices, a triumphant glint in his eyes. "that was just the warm-up, princess." he leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your lips, tasting of you.
but he wasn't done.
as you lie there, still quivering from your first climax, he went back to work. his tongue was relentless, his lips sucking, teasing, devouring you once more. your body, still hypersensitive from the first orgasm, responded instantly. another wave of pleasure built, faster and even more intense than the last. you were a mess of gasps and whimpers, your body arching, your fingers gripping his hair with desperate urgency.
"cum f'me again, baby," he rasped, his voice rough with desire. "let me taste every drop."
and you did. with a final, earth-shattering moan, you came again, a torrent of pleasure that left you breathless and utterly spent. your body was still shaking, your breath coming in ragged gasps.
as iwaizumi continued to lap up your juices, a new presence knelt beside you. makki, still in his jack sparrow costume, but now with his shirt unbuttoned, his chest exposed. he took your hand, pulling you gently until you were propped up on your elbows, your legs still spread open for iwaizumi.
"now, lass," makki murmured, his eyes twinkling with mischief, "captain jack sparrow needs his treasure." he pushed a hand through your hair, guiding your head towards his crotch.
you looked up at him, your eyes still hazy with pleasure, and then down at his prominent bulge, straining against his trousers. you grinned, a wicked glint in your eyes. "aye, captain."
he grinned back, unbucling his belt and freeing himself for you.
you took him into your mouth, his scent filling your senses. he was already hard, thick and throbbing. your lips closed around him, your tongue swirling around the tip, tasting him. he groaned, a deep, satisfied sound. you began to suck, slow at first, then with more confidence, your tongue tracing the length of him, your throat working to accommodate his size.
makki gasped, his fingers tangling in your hair, guiding your head, setting the pace. "fuck, that's good, pretty. you're a natural."
as you continued to give makki a messy blowjob, iwaizumi remained between your legs, his tongue still teasing your clit, ensuring you stayed on the edge of arousal. the combination was intoxicating, a sensory overload that made your mind swim. you could feel makki growing harder in your mouth, his hips starting to thrust gently.
"take it all," he panted, his voice ragged. "take all of me."
you bobbed your head, your throat working, taking him deeper, trying to swallow as much of him as you could. your lips were slick with his pre-cum, your cheeks bulging with his thickness. you could hear his gasps, his groans, feel the tremors running through his body.
suddenly, he pulled back slightly, his eyes wide with urgency. "i'm gonna cum, babe! all over you!"
you looked up at him, a mischievous grin on your face, and then back down at his shaft. "do it, captain," you whispered, your voice husky. "cum all over me."
with a final, desperate groan, makki spilled his load, a hot, thick gush that erupted from him, coating your face, your chin, and cascading down onto your already glistening breasts. you watched, mesmerized, as his cum streamed down your skin, mingling with your sweat. he shuddered, his body shaking, his eyes rolling back in his head.
"fuck," he breathed, his voice hoarse, "that was incredible." he pulled you up, pressing a cum-smeared kiss to your lips, tasting of his own release. "you're a goddess, lass."
you licked your lips, tasting him, a primal satisfaction settling deep within you. you were covered in cum, glistening and proud.
then, matsukawa stepped forward, his bathrobe now completely discarded, leaving him in just his boxers, which were stretched taut around his impressive erection. he stood over you, a dominant presence, his eyes dark and intense.
"my turn, bateman" he rumbled, his voice low and commanding. "and i like it rough."
he reached down, his strong hands gripping your waist, and turned you around, pushing you onto your hands and knees. your ass was now perfectly presented, your wet pussy still glistening from iwaizumi's ministrations. you glanced back at him, a thrill of anticipation shooting through you.
he ripped off his boxers, revealing a thick, dark shaft that made your breath catch in your throat. it was big, very big, and throbbing with a life of its own.
"ready, princess?" he whispered, his voice a low growl.
you nodded, your ass wiggling slightly in anticipation.
he knelt behind you, his hands gripping your hips, pulling you back against his hard cock. the tip brushed against your wet folds, sending shivers through you. he took a deep breath, and then, with a powerful thrust, he pushed inside you.
a gasp tore from your throat as he filled you, stretching you to your limits. he was thick, incredibly thick, and you felt him push deep, deep inside, filling you completely. your body arched, your fingers digging into the rug, trying to brace yourself against the overwhelming sensation.
"fuck, you're tight," he groaned, his voice raw with pleasure. "so fuckin' tight around me."
he began to thrust, slow and deep at first, then picking up the pace, each stroke pushing him deeper, making you gasp and moan. his hips pounded against your ass, a rhythmic beat that matched the thumping of your heart. he pulled your hair, making you arch your neck, exposing your throat.
"that's it, baby," he panted, his breath hot against your ear. "let me hear you scream for me."
you did. you screamed, you moaned, you whimpered, lost in the raw, primal pleasure he was delivering. he spanked your ass, a sharp sting that quickly turned into a delicious throb, making you buck your hips even harder against him.
"you're so good at this, baby," he praised, his voice rough with lust. "such a perfect little slut for me." smack. "love that ass." smack. "love how you take me."
he pulled your hair harder, tilting your head back, exposing your neck to the other three, who were now watching, their eyes wide with hunger, their hands already moving to their own burgeoning erections.
"look at her, boys," matsukawa grunted, his voice thick with passion. "she's built for this. a fuckin' goddess." he pounded into you, his thrusts powerful and relentless. you were being fucked senseless, your mind a haze of pleasure and sensation.
you felt the familiar tightening in your core, the build-up of another orgasm. "i'm gonna cum!" you screamed, your voice hoarse.
"yeah? cum for me then, princess," he roared, his thrusts becoming even more frantic. "cum on my cock!"
with a final, earth-shattering thrust, he sent you spiraling into another intense climax. you screamed his name, your body convulsing around his thick cock. he groaned, his own release building rapidly.
"fuck!" he cried out, his body tensing, "i'm cumming, baby! so deep inside you!"
he emptied himself inside you, a hot, thick gush that filled you completely, making you gasp. he shuddered, collapsing against your back, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "god, you're amazing." he pulled out slowly, his cum dripping from your pussy, mingling with your own juices.
you panted, your body trembling, feeling utterly spent and incredibly satisfied.
but the night was far from over.
as matsukawa pulled out, you felt two new presences behind you. oikawa and iwaizumi. you were still on your hands and knees, your ass still in the air, wet and glistening.
oikawa laid down beside you on the plush rug, pulling you on top of him, his face flushed with desire, his eyes burning with an almost manic intensity. "my turn, darling," he purred, his voice low and seductive. he reached between your legs, his fingers finding your slick pussy, still dripping with matsukawa's cum. he guided his hard, throbbing cock to your entrance.
at the same time, iwaizumi positioned himself behind you, his own thick erection pressing against your ass. you instinctively tensed, a thrill of fear and excitement shooting through you.
"easy, baby," iwaizumi murmured, his voice rough but reassuring. "just relax for me."
oikawa pushed into you first, his cock sliding into your pussy, stretching you, filling the space matsukawa had just vacated. you gasped, your body already so sensitive, so full. he was long and thick, and he filled you completely.
then, you felt a gentle pressure against your ass. iwaizumi, with a slow, deliberate push, began to enter your other hole. a sharp sting, quickly followed by a stretching sensation, made you cry out.
"shh, baby," oikawa whispered, his lips against your ear, his hips beginning to thrust. "just breathe. you can take it."
iwaizumi continued to push, slowly, inch by agonizing inch, until his thick cock was fully buried in your ass. you whimpered, your body trembling, a strange mix of pain and overwhelming pleasure washing over you.
two hard cocks, filling both your holes, stretching you to your absolute limit. oikawa thrusting into your pussy from below, his movements slow and deliberate, while iwaizumi pounded into your ass from behind, his rhythm a steady, powerful beat.
mattsun and makki watched, their eyes wide, their hands already working furiously on their own dicks, jacking off to the spectacle before them. their grunts and moans mingled with your own, creating a symphony of raw, uninhibited lust.
oikawa began to whisper dirty things in your ear, his voice husky with desire. "you're so good, darling. so incredibly tight. i can feel every inch of you." he picked up his pace, his hips grinding against yours. "look at her, taking both of us like a pro! such a greedy little slut."
iwaizumi, his face pressed against your back, grunted with each thrust. "fuckin' incredible," he gasped. "so tight, so hot. i could stay in here forever." he pulled your hair gently, his hips pounding into your ass, driving you forward onto oikawa's cock.
you were a mess of sensations, your body screaming with pleasure, your mind completely overwhelmed. you could feel oikawa's cock sliding in and out of your pussy, hitting your g-spot with every thrust, while iwaizumi's thick cock stretched your ass to its limit, filling you with an almost unbearable pressure.
you were crying out, a continuous stream of moans and gasps, your body bucking and grinding against both of them. matsukawa and hanamaki were a blur in your peripheral vision, their hands moving faster, their faces contorted in pleasure.
"cum for me, darling!" oikawa urged, his voice thick with lust. "cum on my cock!"
"let it all go, baby!" iwaizumi roared, his thrusts becoming even more powerful.
you felt it building again, a tidal wave of pure ecstasy. your muscles tightened, your body convulsed, and you screamed, a raw, primal sound as you came yet again, your pussy clenching around oikawa's cock, your asshole spasming around iwaizumi's.
they both groaned, their bodies tensing, their own releases building rapidly.
"i'm cumming!" oikawa cried out, his body shuddering as he emptied himself deep inside your pussy, filling you with his hot, thick cum.
almost simultaneously, iwaizumi let out a guttural roar, his body convulsing as he shot his load deep inside your ass, filling you to the brim.
you collapsed, spent and utterly sated, your body trembling, still impaled by both of them. their bodies shuddered against yours, their breath coming in ragged gasps. mattsun and makki groaned, their own orgasms erupting, their cum splashing onto the floor and their own hands.
the room was silent save for the heavy breathing and the distant thrum of music. you lie there, pinned between two powerful men, filled with their cum, your body tingling with the aftershocks of multiple orgasms. you were a glorious, cum-covered mess, and you felt utterly, completely alive.
oikawa pulled out slowly, then iwaizumi, leaving you slick and glistening, your holes gaping slightly. you rolled onto your back, looking up at the four men who stood over you, their bodies covered in sweat and their own come, their eyes burning with a mixture of satisfaction and adoration.
"holy fuck," mattsun breathed, his voice hoarse. "you're a fucking legend."
makki, his eyes wide, just shook his head in awe. "never seen anything like it, lass. never."
oikawa knelt beside you, his hand gently stroking your cheek, wiping away a smear of cum. "my beautiful, insatiable girl," he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "you truly are a wet dream."
you grinned, a triumphant, satisfied smile. you were covered in cum, your body aching in the best possible way.
iwaizumi, still breathing heavily, just looked at you, a slow, appreciative smile spreading across his face.
"best damn halloween party ever."
i am SO late this time helppppp so sorry about that! but i rlly hope you guys enjoyed it, cuz i did (a lot) while writing this one :) unlike all the other (song-inspired) one-shots i've written, this is the only one where the song came later and only as inspo for the title (cuz it's a terrible song, i feel miserable listening to it), so i'm not even attaching the link lol if you wanna listen (which i don't recommend), search for 4 big guys by digbar
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