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nottswitch · 2 days ago

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— if you’ve been naughty, you get…

──────────────── 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐮𝐩. ──

summary: quidditch is a sport that demands strength and stamina, resulting in physical exertion. exertion equals releasing disproportionate amounts of warmth, which, as it turns out, feels better shared.

pairing: mattheo riddle x reader

cw: 18+ smut, enemies to lovers, rough p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, semi-public sex, spanking, choking, degrading, hair grabbing, cursing

wc: 3.1k

a/n: the first fic of the naughty side of the list, so buckle up for the filth!! hope you enjoy <3

» navigation ; masterlist ; mattheo m.list ; kinkmas 2024

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The entirety of the Quidditch stadium roared as Harry Potter hovered proudly in the air, the Golden Snitch snug between his fingers. The ultimate rivalry between the houses never ceased to exist, be it on the school grounds or on the pitch, the students from other houses having chosen a side long ago and now discreetly passing galleons to each other in the stands. You craned your neck a bit, your loosely tied scarf sliding off as you watched the players descend onto the ground, the green and silver side clearly trying to get off the pitch as hastily as possible.

Mattheo was, for all intents and purposes, pissed. His nostrils were flared, his breath coming out short and ragged, the exertion from the long-winded game straining his aching muscles. His bat was clutched tightly in his hand, his knuckles almost translucent as he fought the urge to swing it at the annoyingly smug Gryffindors who seemed to be very purposeful with the loudness of their celebrations. A smirk tugged at the corner of your mouth – the opportunity was too golden, no pun intended, to have a go at the guy, even though you knew that now, of all times, he wouldn’t dream of holding back. It was a constant push and pull between the two of you, a burning need to kick the other while they were down, and a loss of a very important game was a chance presenting itself on a silver platter.

"Hey, Riddle!"

The sound of your voice made Mattheo grit his teeth, the vibration echoing in his already ringing ears. His eyes briefly darted to you descending the stairs from the top of the stands, the look in them as close to murderous as it can possibly get.

"Don’t," he muttered, continuing to stride across the field, towards the tunnel, where the other players from the Slytherin team had already disappeared.

"Don’t what?"

Your voice was clearly taunting as you approached him, your arms crossing on your chest as you fixed him with a smirk. Unconsciously, your gaze slid down his body, taking in the sight of his Quidditch jersey clinging to him, damp with sweat and accentuating the ridges of his toned abs. You licked your lips, the action coming out of your subconsciousness that craved to feel those abs underneath your palms, although you had yet to admit it.

"Don’t fucking try me right now," Mattheo retorted without sparing you a glance. He was already more than a little aggravated, and the last thing he needed was your teasing and endless quips, combined with the effortless allure you always held despite being an insufferable little cunt. His uniform suddenly felt too tight, which prompted him to take off the green jersey, harshly tugging it over his head with one hand.

Your lips parted ever so slightly as you watched his torso opening up to you in all its firm, built glory. But the muscles weren’t the first thing that you noticed – as much as the view was enticing, it was also not completely new. No, the thing that made your breath hitch was the fact that he was literally steaming, as if he had just left a sauna. Translucent whirls were emanating from his heated body, his skin breaking out in goosebumps in the chilly December air. Mattheo didn’t even shiver, throwing the piece of clothing over his shoulder and flicking the bat from one hand to the other. His pace was firm and purposeful, leaving no doubts about his intentions to leave the Quidditch pitch as quickly as possible.

You had entirely different plans for him, though.

Without thinking much, you followed him into the tunnel leading out of the stadium, barely able to match his long steps.

“Or what?” you called out defiantly, finally reaching him at the price of your breath getting shallow and your heart beating faster than normal. You weren’t one hundred percent sure it was just the effect of walking quickly.

Mattheo stopped in his tracks, nearly making you stumble into his broad back. His eyes closed shut for a moment, his chest heaving as he took a deep breath, feeling his already nonexistent control slipping away with every single sound of yours he heard behind him.

“You will regret it,” he muttered through gritted teeth, not making a move to turn around to look at you – he knew that if he did, he could say goodbye to any traces of restraint still left in him.

“Oh, really?”

You knew you were walking a dangerous line by taunting him like that, but at this point, you couldn’t stop. Was it a sudden surge of bravery, was it recklessness or something else, deeper and yet uncharted, you couldn’t tell. You just knew that if you stopped right now – that was what you’d regret for a long, long time, possibly for the rest of your life. You stepped closer, your chest almost pressing against his back, feeling his muscles tense as your proximity registered in his mind and sent signals through his whole body.

That step was all it took for him to finally snap. In a split second, his hand was wrapped around your throat, pressing you against the wall of the tunnel. A strangled gasp escaped your parted lips, your pulse fluttering wildly as his fingers pressed right on the point, curling around your neck as if he was ready to snap it in half. He probably could, if he wanted to.

“Say another word and find out,” Mattheo hissed, the warm air of his breath brushing against your flushed face. His already dark chocolate eyes darkened further – you swore you could see his pupils dilating in real time, the dimness inside the tunnel failing to hide the mixture of anger and lust swirling in their depths.

“I’m not scared of you,” you whispered, your voice quiet but filled with a strange type of determination. Whatever was happening was something completely new in your dynamic, yet it felt like it had been building up the whole time you spent bickering and trying to get to each other using the power of biting words.

Mattheo’s hold grew tighter around your throat, almost cutting off the stream of much needed air flowing into your lungs.

“You should be.”

A loud thud echoed through the tunnel as his bat hit the floor, thrown away and immediately forgotten about. His newly freed hand gripped your waist, pressing you harder into the wall, the coldness of the surface seeping through the fabric of your winter robes. Mattheo’s body was flush against your front, creating a sharp contrast between the chill of the air surrounding you and his fired up skin, dampening your shirt with small rivulets of sweat dripping off him.

You swallowed thickly, unable to tear your gaze off his face, his dangerously handsome features tense and barely moving. You had no idea what to do with your hands, so they ended up on his bare chest without any real input from your mind, which, you could tell, was slowly turning off anyway. A hiss coming from him once your skin touched his was a surprise, but you couldn’t lie and say you didn’t enjoy his reaction. For some reason, you found yourself bold enough to try exploring this newfound knowledge, sliding your hand down his chest, along the firm planes and ridges. Two things happened at the same time: Mattheo’s fingers dug deeper into the sides of your throat, causing a strangled sound to escape your lips, while his other hand left your waist to grab your traveling wrist.

“You have no fucking idea what you’re doing right now,” Mattheo muttered, and you swore you could hear his teeth grinding against each other. “I’ll show you, though. I’ll fucking show you.”

Next thing you knew, you were lifted off the ground, stuck in the iron bars of his embrace. The instinct in you that still tried to persuade you that this whole thing was wrong made your dangling feet try to hit Mattheo’s knee. This weak attempt at defiance was quickly stopped by his arm moving down and tightly locking around your thighs, stopping your legs from moving altogether.

“Asshole.” You did hear the treacherous breathlessness of your voice, but also didn’t have it in you to care. The heat between your legs was rapidly intensifying, the friction created by your pressed up thighs only making you more desperate for something real, something substantial to quench your undeniable thirst.

A dark smirk appeared on Mattheo’s face, the one that did nothing to soften his expression – it only made him look more like the devil he appeared to be. A second later, his foot was pushing a door you didn’t even know was there, doing the same from the other side once he walked into a dark room that smelled like wood and broom polish. You didn’t have time to think or formulate a snarky response to his actions before you were getting turned around and bent over, Mattheo’s hand pressing insistently on the back of your neck. You barely had time to stabilize yourself against the cold wooden bench that stood at the wall, your scarf sliding off completely and falling to the floor.

“What the fuck?!” you exclaimed, although it was more of a formality, since you made no actual attempt to get up from the new position. Mattheo, of course, took notice of that, his smirk widening a bit.

“This the only thing you can think of?” His voice was cold and mocking at the same time, not failing to send a shiver down your spine – it was huskier than usual, an undertone of desire obvious even to untrained ears. Mattheo effortlessly lifted up the hem of your robes, the rumpled fabric of your skirt splayed across your ass in a way he found sinful. “Where’s the smartass attitude, hm?”

A sharp smack landed on your ass, stinging even through several layers of clothing. Your body jolted forward, a yelp breaking out of your throat both at the unexpectedness of it and a wave of pleasure the smack sent straight between your legs. Mattheo found himself enjoying your reaction, his hand coming up to rest on your hip, fingers curling and pressing into the flesh.

“Fuck y-,” you started to mutter, glancing at him over your shoulder, but another smack shut you up pretty quickly. You could feel the sting, only intensified when his strong hand grabbed a handful of your ass, roughly kneading and squeezing.

“Much better from this angle,” Mattheo murmured, rolling his tongue against the inside of his cheek as his eyes shamelessly roamed your body up and down. His free hand slid up your back, pushing you to lean further down against the bench until he reached your hair. His fingers threaded through your locks in an almost tender gesture, one so uncharacteristic of Mattheo Riddle, before he yanked your head back, making you hiss from the harshness of the pull.

The warmth of his body enveloped you whole as Mattheo bent over, his flaming chest covering the entirety of your back. A fleeting thought flickered in your mind, that even the warmest robes couldn’t hold a candle to the human heater that was Mattheo after a Quidditch game. As his mouth neared your ear, his hand never stilled on your ass, lifting your skirt up to bunch up at your waist and running over the fabric of your tights.

“Really?” he asked, mockingly, making you want to strangle him and kiss the hell out of him at the same time. Your lips parted when you felt his sneaky fingers pressing between your legs, causing your thighs to clench. “D’you know I can feel you getting wet?” he cooed, brushing his lips against your ear, you were sure, very deliberately. You closed your eyes, unwanted embarrassment making its way to your cheeks, and you just knew the bastard was smirking again. You couldn’t control your body’s reaction to him, though, and your wetness seeping through your tights fully gave you away.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. I thought your smartass mouth could handle better than that.”

Mattheo gave your hair another tug before his hand slipped down, curling around your throat again. His grip was tight, not allowing even a single millimeter of movement, a strangled gasp escaping you once you felt his hips pressing to your ass from the back. His hard-on was firmly planted between your cheeks, straining against his Quidditch trousers, as if he was trying to break through the layers of your clothing.

“But when I’m next to you,” Mattheo continued murmuring into your ear, a malicious smirk giving his words a dangerous hint, “you’re just a bitch in heat.”

“Fuck. You.”

You somehow managed to find words, the ones you couldn’t bring yourself to say before. Mattheo chuckled darkly, feeling your pulse fluttering wildly beneath his thumb – you really weren’t the best in hiding your deepest emotions, though your face still tried to keep its defiant stance.

“That’s the plan,” he answered, as his fingers moved against your covered pussy, the sound of it, though muffled, still embarrassingly wet. Once his torturous movements stopped, you nearly whined, biting your bottom lip in order to save yourself from further humiliation. Your teeth sunken into your lip didn’t go unnoticed – Mattheo licked his own, his hand on your throat lifting you up just a bit, his body heat a fire burning your back.

“Didn’t know having you speechless would be so…” Another smack on your ass interrupted his words, a squeal caused by the mixture of pain and pleasure sounding through the dark room. “…so fucking hot.”

You gained the courage to push your hips back, a satisfied hum rolling out of your mouth as you felt his cock twitch at the friction.

“So damn impatient,” Mattheo whispered into your ear. His own hips bucked forward, forcefully, enough to make your body jerk again. “But you’re lucky, because…”

He suddenly straightened up, roughly pulling down your tights and baring your skin to the chilly air. It was already stinging from the previous slaps, the sensation now stronger as the frost of early winter bit at the sensitive flesh.

“…me too.”

You didn’t notice the moment Mattheo’s trousers pooled at his feet, but they definitely did, along with his boxers. You couldn’t stop your eyes from rolling to the back of your head when his warm, slicked up cock slid through your folds, making you feel every inch of him, providing the friction you desperately craved. Your entrance clenched, as if trying to suck him in but failing. His tip prodded at your hole, your whole body backing against him in an attempt to finally let him inside.

You didn’t have to wait – a single deep thrust, and he was splitting you open in the best, most mind blowing way possible. Your high-pitched moan was so loud it could be easily heard outside, but you didn’t care – you couldn’t care. Mattheo’s groan matched up in volume, his hands gripping your hips with brushing strength.

“If I knew you’d be so fucking tight…”

He pulled out only to thrust right back in, making you moan so loudly you could feel the air shake around you.

“…I’d shut you up like that every. Single. Time.”

Each word was accompanied by another thrust, each one deeper than the last, even though it was physically impossible – at least you felt like he discovered new depths within you every time. The squelching sounds of your pussy roughly meeting his dick echoed through the narrow space you were squished into, the slapping of your bodies surely making its way into the tunnel behind the door. It was something you’d never felt before – the passion, the lust filling your very essence, consuming and turning your brain into mush.

Mattheo’s palm connected with your asscheek again, making it bounce and ripple. Immediately after, he squeezed the round mound, and you hissed, another sting shooting through your body. His pace was unforgiving, but you didn’t want to be forgiven – if that was punishment, you’d rather be guilty for life. The stretch of your walls around his cock felt like it was tearing you apart and gathering you back in one piece right after, and at that moment you were sure that no one else could fuck you like that.

His hand ended up in your hair again as he tugged you up, making your back press against his chest again. Somehow, it was still just as hot as before, causing you to break out in sweat from the exertion and his body heat seeping through your skin and bones. If the room had windows, they would certainly be fogged up. However, the only foggy thing was your mind, getting more and more dazed as your peak approached.

“You wanna cum, huh?” Mattheo growled, his laboured breath prickling at the sensitive skin of your neck. “Wanna cum on my cock, like the slut you are?”

As much as you hated yourself for admitting that, cumming around him was the only thing swirling in your head. You tried to nod, but his grip on your hair didn’t allow it.

“Words,” he muttered, his teeth clenching as he tried to hold his own orgasm back, determined to make you fall apart first. “The only time I want you to use your fucking words.”

“I wanna– Fuck! Wanna cum on your cock,” you managed to mumble, your cheeks heating up at the fact that you had just given in, had given him control over the pleasure you yearned for.

“Do it, then.”

With another rough slap on your ass, you came, wave after wave making your body tremble and shake. Mattheo was quick to finish right after, his growl bordering on animalistic as he spilled deep inside of you. The warmth of his cum felt like it was etched into your very soul, hot and sticky, your clenching hole squeezing some out to trickle down your thighs. Mattheo could get hard all over again just from the sight alone, but he resisted, pulling your skirt down to cover the delicious view.

For a few moments, you could only try catching your breath, leaning on the bench still somehow holding up in front of you.

“Next time you lose, you know where to find me.” Your voice was shaking, yet already filled with the cockiness of knowing that you, in some way, made Mattheo Riddle lose control.

“Next time I win, you won’t be able to walk for days,” he retorted, his tone bearing something akin to a threat. Or a promise.

#1k notes on this !!#tysm <3

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nottswitch · 5 days ago

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right?? the only man i’d let treat me like this 🫠

— if you’ve been naughty, you get…

───────────────── 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮. ─

summary: you always tell your boyfriend everything that’s going on in your life, except this time you might’ve failed to mention just what kind of outfit you were going to wear to your performance at the yule ball.

pairing: toxic!theo nott x reader

cw: 18+ smut, toxic established relationship, jealousy, anal, unprotected sex, creampie, mirror sex, spanking, degrading, denied orgasm, cursing, italian pet names

wc: 2.2k

a/n: jealous toxic theo anyone?? and yes, the dance and the outfit are the mean girls ones.

» navigation ; masterlist ; theo m.list ; kinkmas 2024

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In general, you were a good girl – pliant, crazy about Theo and witty enough to keep up with his banter whenever he needed it. You never questioned Theo’s possessive antics, letting him mark your neck and collarbones with as many hickeys as he wanted, always leaning into him in public as his hand was firmly planted on your hip, stopped talking to guys as soon as you noticed Theo approaching with a confident and somewhat menacing stride. All of that made him feel strangely safe and loosen up his iron grip on you a bit, knowing that you were with him completely at your own will, devoted and loving him to the core. Which was, as he had just come to realize, a mistake.

Theo stood at the door of a big empty classroom that had been turned into a rehearsal space for the students who were to perform at the Yule Ball. The crack showed just enough for him to see something he didn’t like. Oh, he didn’t like it at all. He loathed it, in fact. The dance moves themselves were already questionable enough, but the skirt was what did it for him – the tiniest, shortest skirt in existence, swaying with each tantalizing movement of your hips, giving everyone who was willing to look a glimpse of your inner thighs – a part of your body that was, in Theo’s not so humble opinion, only for him to look at, much less touch and taste. The top didn’t help either, your tits nearly spilling out of it each time you bent over.

Theo gritted his teeth, feeling his cock starting to harden in his trousers once his eyes caught the sight of your ass bouncing up and down during one of the dance moves. The thought of some other guy being able to watch, just like him, and having the same reaction made Theo’s thoughts run wild. Without thinking much more, he flung the door open and strode over to the makeshift stage, his steps long and deliberate. With a flick of his wand, he made the speakers shut off, causing a string of surprised ‘heys’ from the girl dancing with you. You whipped your head around as well, your eyebrow going up at the sight of Theo standing right in front of the stage, his eyes dangerously gleaming in the spotlights surrounding it.

“Babe?” you wondered, confused, straightening your slightly wrinkled skirt and taking a few hesitant steps towards the edge of the stage. “I thought you were… at practice, no?”

“Got off early,” Theo muttered coldly, his eyes landing on the expanse of your bare legs and the black heels that made them look longer than they already were. “You’re getting off early too.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but immediately closed it, because the look on Theo’s face told you that it would not only be a stupid idea, it would also be completely pointless. You muttered something about them continuing the rehearsal without you to your friends and walked off the stage, with Theo immediately grabbing your hand and leading you out of the room. You stumbled after him, your eyes briefly glancing at the floor at the impact and then going up. In your peripheral vision, you caught the sight of his crotch, where the black fabric of his trousers was visibly straining, and you immediately understood what this whole thing was about.

“Babe, I–” you tried to start, but Theo immediately cut you off with a glare over his shoulder. You swallowed thickly, fixing your gaze on the corridor in front of you instead – with how quickly Theo was walking, you swore you could easily fall in your high heels.

The bathroom he took you into was dark, the only light coming through the big window on one of the walls. The round silvery moon seemed so calm and peaceful compared to the storm of emotions coursing through Theo as he effortlessly lifted you up onto the counter. Splatters of water someone left there seeped through the thin fabric of your skirt, making you shiver on the cold surface.

“The fuck is this, huh?” Theo hissed against your ear as his hands tugged at the hem of your skirt, lifting it up and letting it fall back onto your lap.

“That’s, um… My costume,” you muttered, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible, but failing miserably. “For the performance.”

“Oh yeah, your costume? Your fucking costume?”

Theo scoffed, pulling away to eye your form up and down, fixed on your spread legs, between which he was currently standing.

“And what’s the ‘performance’ called? ‘Dancing sluts’?” he asked in a mocking yet somehow still icy voice. His hands roughly gripped your thighs, spreading them even further apart and nestling himself right between them, his throbbing cock pressing right against your quickly dampening pussy.

You shook your head, desperately trying not to clench around him to soothe the tingling sensation washing over you. Theo raised an eyebrow, sensing the tension in your muscles, and a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“Really now?” he asked, the question being completely rhetorical. “Why do you look like a fucking slut, then?”

“I don’t–” you started but couldn’t finish, because Theo quickly shut you up with a bruising kiss, lacking any tenderness or, really, love – it was pure possessiveness in its rawest form. One of his hands squeezed around your jaw, firmly holding it in place as he lifted you up again, turning you around and pressing your front against the counter. Your neck started to hurt a little because it was still turned to the side, yet the feeling of it was pleasant enough to make you push your ass back, against Theo’s aching length.

A sharp slap on your asscheek was his response, and you let out a squeal, stuttering into a moan as you felt the slap echoing in your core.

“And a needy slut, at that,” Theo quietly cooed into your ear, his warm, smoke-scented breath conjuring up small droplets of condensation on your skin. “You think you deserve this cock, huh?”

At these words, he dragged his clothed hardness between your cheeks, letting you feel just how riled up he currently was. You nodded, knowing that it most likely wouldn’t convince him, but at least you could still try. Theo chuckled, the sound low and holding some sort of danger, and shook his head, letting go of your jaw and letting your head loll forward. You looked into the mirror hanging above the sinks – your reflection was staring right back, your eyes filled with lust and a burning need to feel Theo inside of you right that moment.

“You think wrong, amore,” Theo answered, noticing the same exact thing as you in your eyes as he briefly glanced into the mirror as well. His hands hastily lifted up your skirt, your stinging ass now covered only by a tiny piece of red lace. “There’s no way you deserve it after that dirty little stunt of yours. I do deserve this ass, though,” he added in a cocky voice, landing another strong slap on your cheek, making it ripple at the touch. “And I’m gonna take it all.”

Your eyes widened at the implication of his words as you recalled each and every time he ‘took it all’, the memories making your pussy clench around nothing. Theo saw your expression that was exactly what he was expecting, his smirk widening as he pulled your panties down, met by the sight of your dripping cunt, arousal already starting to run down your thigh. His other hand went to the zipper of his trousers, the sound of it being undone sending a shiver of anticipation through your needy body. A moment later, Theo’s cock was freed from the confines of his clothes, springing out against his abdomen.

“Fuck, I like you like this,” he mumbled, his palms landing on both of your asscheeks at the same time, squeezing and spreading them right after. He didn’t even look at your sloppy entrance, his gaze fixed intently on the hole right between your cheeks, so damn tight and inviting. He gathered some saliva in his mouth, spitting it out right onto that pretty hole. You felt the cool liquid trickling down, swiftly picked up and spread around by Theo’s index and middle fingers.

“And you like it too, huh?” he said in pretend amusement, watching your muscles tense and relax under his touch. “Your little hole is begging for me, isn’t it?”

“Yeah…” you breathed out, gripping the edge of the counter as you felt arousal creeping right into your stomach, your whole body nearly trembling from anticipation. “Please, Theo… Need you so much.”

“What’d you say?” he taunted as his middle finger slipped right in, stretching you out, getting you ready for him. “Can’t hear you, amore.”

“Need you, baby, please,” you mumbled louder, knowing that he won’t do anything unless he hears you properly pleading for it. “Please, Theo, I–”

Your words were cut off by another finger added inside of you, scissoring you open in a way that made you moan loud enough for him to be satisfied. After a couple more moments of stretching, his fingers slipped out, replaced by the leaking tip of his cock prodding at your hole.

“Gonna take it all, bambina,” Theo said with a warning, sliding the tip in just a bit before pulling away again. “And you’re gonna take it all, like the slut you are.”

You nodded fervently, having the boldness to push against him once more. Theo let out a huff of breath, his hands firmly grabbing your ass as he finally pushed in, slowly filling you up with every single inch of his cock. The initial pain was quickly replaced by pleasure as you adjusted to his familiar size – you had done this so many times before that your insides felt like they were carved out specifically for Theo to fit right in there. You leaned your forehead against the mirror, your ragged breaths fogging up the glass, making small droplets run down the surface.

“So fucking tight,” Theo grunted as his hips pressed tightly against the flesh of your ass, signaling the fact that he was now fully in. Both of you stilled for a moment, getting used to the sensation before he started moving, his cock easily sliding in and out, wet sounds wafting through the air from the abundance of his saliva still dripping onto your skin.

You felt your muscles clench around him, squeezing his cock as if you were trying to milk him dry. And you were succeeding, judging by the moans and growls he let out from time to time, his fingers digging into your hip, surely leaving marks in a completely intentional way. The pleasure you felt was teasing, getting you to the edge and pulling you right away due to the lack of friction on your throbbing clit. Theo was perfectly aware you had never been able to cum just from anal and deliberately ignored your pussy’s need, focusing on himself – a clear statement that this was more of a punishment than simple sex. You whined each time your orgasm slipped away, your hands itching to reach down and touch yourself, but you knew better than this – Theo wouldn’t be pleased with your attempt at defiance. His own peak was starting to approach, evident by the way his thrusts grew sloppier and his moans – louder.

“Gonna fill you up, little slut,” he growled, an especially deep push almost bringing you to the edge again. “Gonna make you mine, in a way only I can. You hear me? Only. I. Can.”

Your muscles squeezed him again at his possessive words, and that was enough to tip him right over. His warm cum spilled deep inside your gut, making you shiver from the stimulation it provided, which still wasn’t enough to satisfy your own craving. Theo stayed in for a few moments, catching his breath before pulling out with a wet pop. With pure satisfaction, he eyed his seed trickling onto your inner thighs before pulling your panties up to seal it in, along with the juices from your completely neglected pussy.

“Babe…” you tried to plead, your desperate voice met by his glare in the mirror, turning from lustful to icy cold again.

“I told you that you didn’t deserve it, and you still don’t,” he said firmly, his eyebrow slightly raised in an authoritative manner. He grabbed the hem of your dress, pulling it down to cover your ass, which served as a sign that he wouldn’t be touching you any further. You shakily breathed out, your thighs squeezing together as you felt the need tugging at your lower stomach. Theo was relentless, however, in his determination to punish you for the outfit you dared to wear and tell him nothing about, giving you another sharp look before extending his hand towards you.

“Come on, I’ll take you back to your rehearsal. Let all your little friends know exactly what you were doing in here.”

And all you could do was obey.

#— witch’s feedback ☾#tysm for reading!!#i’m glad you enjoyed <3

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