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smut-anarchy · 18 days ago

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Own Me - Chapter Five

Tags: Dom!Mattheo, Gryffandor!Reader, Cursing, Blackmail, Anxiety!Reader, Dubious Consent, Language, Titplay (IDK What to Call It)

Word Count: 3,101 Words

A/N: I've decided every fifth chapter will be Mattheo's POV or a Dual POV. Enjoy my last fic of the year!

Chapter Five: Wandering Eyes & Wagers

Mattheo's POV:

His eyes opened sluggishly, the heavy weight of sleep still clinging to his eyelids this morning. He stretched his joints, only to be stopped by the slumbering weight next to him, a Ravenclaw girl whose name he couldn’t quite remember softly dozing in his bed.

He slipped out of his bed, going to the connected bathroom in an effort to run a hot shower for his tightened muscles. It was about thirty minutes to breakfast, his stomach gurgling in reminder that he was starving.

Exiting the shower with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist he saw the Ravenclaw girl had woken up, though she made no move to leave. Her hungry eyes following the droplets of his shower, biting her lip suggestively.

“Good morning,” she said huskily, voice trying far too hard to seduce him, “Come back to bed and we can have a repeat of last night.” He rolled his eyes, last night being one of several attempts to flush out a burning lust he’d felt since a certain Gryffindor sat on his lap and let him spank her luscious ass red four days ago.

“I’m good, Cornelia.” He dismissed, riffling through his drawers for clothes, “Last night was fun but we’re done here.” Fun was being generous, average would be more fitting, the girl in his bed not nearly as entertaining and effortlessly appealing his little pet, though at the time his weed addled mind had convinced him the Ravenclaw would be sufficient fun for the night.

“It’s Cordelia.” The girl hissed, eyes shooting daggers at him.

“My mistake.” He rumbled, not really caring, he took a wild shot at the name. Though to be fair he’d been high as a kite when she’d said it, his weed induced haze fogging up the finer details of last night.

Cordelia huffed, collecting her clothes with a string of curses and putting them on, calling him a ’selfish asshole’ before slamming his door closed. The past few days his mornings started in a similar way, whatever girl he’d slept with the night before storming out with similar colorful words for him.

His flings were too desperate for his attention and too expectant for more after they’d been underneath him. No matter how high or drunk he was, he never suggested a night would be anything further, but lately he’d been more short with his casual hookups once the morning came. Ever since he’d kissed you in that closet his taste was partial to little smart mouthed Gryffindors who looked so fucking tantalizing in cat costumes. Something about your easy to read face, stubborn head and sweet little gasps and moans had him hooked, enjoying his powerful hold on you far too much.

At first, he thought he’d found an easy way to get by in class — you’d do all his classwork and homework, he’d fluster you for entertainment here and there and then life would go on as normal. But then you’d broken his friend’s nose with your head and, with little specks of said friend’s blood on your face, you’d told him how much you didn’t regret it.

Before you’d quite literally crashed into the common room, he’d known you as the frumpy Gryffindor girl who hung out with Lovegood. Your cardigans and sweaters always hiding your figure, but then you’d taken it off so he could lay on your supple thighs and he’d realized the utterly enticing body you’d had — soft skin, perfectly rounded hips connected to pillowy thighs and a perfect ass, breasts that aways seemed to be straining against the tightness of your button up uniform shirts and soft, plush lips that spilled out venomous words and soft moans for his greedy ears.

The day in the closet he hadn’t actually meant to kiss you, he only meant to reinforce his hold over you to curb your smart mouth and feisty temper. Yet, when he had your soft body pressed between the wall and his own body, with your wide fluttering eyes, pleading voice and pouty lips he couldn’t deny the inviting desire to kiss you. Then he did and he’d decided right then and there that you’d be far more suited to fulfilling his needs outside of classwork.

At the Halloween party you’d confirmed his suspicions that you were a virgin, he’d promised your virginity was safe from him, and it was, but magma flooded his veins at thinking about everything else he’d do with you and your tantalizing body. Your whimpers and cries while enduring your punishment had gotten his blood pumping more than anything else had in a while, immediately after you’d left he’d invited an attractive Slytherin to his dorm, trying to fuck out the excess libido in his system you’d buried within him.

He was sure you didn’t even realize what you were doing, his sweltering lust making him keenly aware of you and your body. Two days ago in Charms you’d been sitting next to him, innocently taking notes on your parchment when you’d dropped your quill, it was only a few seconds, but you’d bent over in that unbelievably short red skirt to pick it up and peaking underneath was your lace covered ass, still flushed with his handprints. He’d hardened almost instantly, his marks on your body igniting something primal within him. You’d gone back to taking notes, none the wiser, but he’d spent the entirety of class trying to focus on Flitwick’s droning voice and not your perky, reddened bottom.

His mind was plagued with you and the things he’d wanted from your alluring body, though he promised himself he’d ease you into everything. After all, it would do him no good to overstimulate his anxious pet so soon; First he wanted you needy and begging and he was slowly pushing you there.

A knock at the door broke his fantasies, Theo popping his head in, “I see Cordelia left.” Mattheo gave a dismissive hum, loosely tying his tie around his neck.

“You’ve been on a streak this week,” Theo stated, a teasing smile breaking onto his face, “Any reason why you’re fucking anything that moves in the castle? Someone got you all hot and bothered mate?”

“Let’s just go to breakfast you bloody git.” Mattheo grumbled, not giving his best friend any time to probe him further.

Breakfast at the Great Hall always soured his mood, he was not at all a morning person so the loud chatter and brightness shining through the large windows usually gave him a dull headache until his eyes and brain adjusted. He sat between Enzo and Theo, piling various breakfast foods onto his plate, his eyes roaming the tables for you.

There you were, clad in one of your many oversized red cardigans, smiling at Harry fucking Potter. Unlike what most people thought he didn’t have burning hatred for Harry, definitely annoyance that the golden boy could do no wrong and seemed to get away with practically everything, but since his father was in jail they’d crafted a fragile peace — you don’t bother me, I don’t bother you. Although, watching you lean towards Harry with a sweet smile and laugh made Mattheo want to punch the bespectacled wizard for reasons he couldn’t quite name.

Draco, sensing the growing frustration coming from Mattheo, turned around to find out why only for his gaze to find you and Harry. “Your pet straying already, mate?” Draco snarked, still bothered by your bold attack against his nose. Enzo, Theo and Blaise, once caught in their own conversation, snapped their attention to Mattheo.

“I’m not worried Draco, she knows her place.” He waved Draco off, not wanting to let on how much the sight irked him. He was right of course, so long as he had the shards of that vase tucked away you couldn’t stray from him, though he’d rather not see you cozying up to Potter.

“It’s funny, I’ve never seen them talk before,” Enzo wondered aloud, “Do you think he fancies her?” Looking at Enzo’s mischievous smile it was clear he was trying to rile Mattheo up, his friends finding amusement whenever you came around. He kept picking at his food, trying to drown out the conversation between them of whether or not Potter could be into you, until he��d heard Blaise’s smooth voice.

“Well he is staring at her tits, so maybe he does like her.”

His eyes snapped up, sure enough while you were animatedly talking the Gryffindor boy’s eyes kept glancing down at your chest, the first three buttons of your blouse left open for an ample view of your breasts.

Oh fuck no.

Mattheo slid his thumb over the ring connected to your necklace, watching as your carefree eyes zapped to alarm, scanning the crowds for him with your hand unconsciously playing with the gem around your neck. When your confused eyes met his he tipped his head toward the exit, leaving his snickering friends and empty plate at the table without another word.

It was less than two minutes when you’d followed him through the doors, your appearance clearly frazzled by the mid-mealtime beckon, your wide eyes searching him for the reason he’d called you out. He didn’t give you much time to wonder, offering a gruff ‘come with me’ before dragging you to an empty bathroom where he locked the door.

“What has gotten into you this morning?” You huffed at him, clearly annoyed by his rough handling.

“What has gotten into me?” Now he was more annoyed with you than Potter, “What has gotten into you?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Come here, Kitten. Let me educate you then.” He held out his hand, inviting you to take it, which you hesitantly did. He had you stand in front of the sinks, facing the mirrors so you could see your reflection. “What do you see?”

“Me?” You questioned, your oblivious mind not realizing how tempting you were looking to any hot blooded male in the castle.

“Let me show you what I see.” His voice was deeper than he’d ever heard it, a mix of anger and lust coating every syllable. He pressed his front against your back, pulling your hips towards him, eliciting a small squeak from you. He let his hands unbutton the chunky knitwear you wore, sliding it off your body slowly. Without the cardigan his hands slipped under your button up shirt, feeling the smooth skin of your waist, gently caressing upwards until his hand met the band of your bra.

“I see,” He narrowed his eyes at your glassy ones, “These fucking perfect tits begging to be touched.” His fingers glided underneath your bra, pushing it up, allowing his fingers to stroke your soft, firm breasts. Your breathing deepened at the skin contact, small gasps coming from your lips. “And if I could see these from the Slytherin table, what do you think Harry was looking at while you were chatting, hm?”

You shook your head, staring into his eyes from the mirror, “Harry wouldn’t look at them. He wouldn’t do that.” You protested. His fingers found your peaked nipples, pinching them softly, forcing a keening whine from your plump lips. The sound went straight to his dick, the hardening length straining against his pants.

“Harry was looking at them.” He growled, his anger simmering at the memory. “He doesn’t know this body is mine, does he, Kitten?” The flush on your face was dipping down to your chest, your heated skin swelling in his hands as he pulled and flicked your hardened nipples. You shook your head, your eyes fluttering closed, overwhelmed by the sensations his hands were causing.

“Use your words, Kitten. And look at me.”

Your hazy orbs met his own, “No, he doesn’t.” Your voice wavered, your tongue coming out to lick your lips, an action that stirred Mattheo’s already hard cock. In a brief moment of weakness, he grinds his throbbing erection against the fullness of your ass, the rounded cheeks barely covered by your risen up skirt.

“Maybe you need a reminder not to show off what’s mine.” He didn’t wait for a response from you, though later, he swore heard a faint ‘yes’ from your lips. He turned you around, scooping you up in his arms and depositing you on top of the sink. He wasted no time in ripping open your shirt, the buttons flying throughout the bathroom.

“Take off your bra for me Kitten, now.” He growled, his eyes soaking up your disheveled and trembling state. You’d unclasped your bra, letting it fall to the floor with a shaky exhale. His predatory gaze raked over you, making sure to commit the view to his memory. He barely even touched you and you were all blushed and panting, your exposed breasts with perfectly hardened peaks inviting him.

“So good f’me…” He cooed, his lips capturing yours in a consuming kiss, the dominance of the kiss being complimented by the silkiness of your lips. His hands threaded themselves in your hair, his hold roughly pulling on your scalp, the pain causing you to release a shivering exhale. When his tongue met yours you’d mewled, the bruising kiss having you arch into him, seemingly looking for more, your hands desperately gripping his shirt.

Greedy little thing doesn’t even realize she’s doing it.

He’d released your lips, you gasping for lungfuls of air, and he’d let his lips continue on a path down. His lips ghosting over your neck, offering kisses and nipping at the untouched the skin. You’d let out a particularly wanton cry when he’d sucked a dark spot onto your collarbone, the sound and purpling bruise filling him with pride and an animalistic desire to make more.

When he sucked one of your perky nubs into his mouth he heard your breathless, urgent gasps as your hands tangled themselves in his curls. Your bones softened underneath him, your body melting against his mouth, sliding further onto the sink. Still, he held your hips against his own, every so often rutting against you for a delicious friction.

He gave both sides equal attention, not stopping for too long, nipping and sucking on all the available skin. You were too far gone, drowning in the wake of every sensation he gave you, your responsive body intoxicated by him. You yanked his hair after one specific bite to your nipple, the searing pain causing him to let out a low moan. He did it twice again after that, chasing the blissful high between pain and pleasure.

His kitten knew how to give as good as she got.

This was one of the most tame sexual experiences he’s had in a while, both of you far too clothed, and yet he couldn’t get enough. Your whimpers and gasps easily setting a sizzling spark through his veins. There was something about the sensitive and needy way you responded to him that only made him want to devour you in the most dominating, burning way he knew how until there was nothing left of you but embers.

He’d finally released you in a puffing breath, looking at his handiwork, all across your chest were hickeys and bite marks, the skin flushed red from his kisses and your arousal. You yourself were panting, your dazed eyes following him as you quivered on the sink. He fought the urge to slip his fingers between your legs, knowing that if he indulged himself now he’d ruin all his progress.

He tried to smooth over his appearance, knowing he’d have a much better time of it than you who was still leaning against the sink he’d set you on, clutching your shirt closed because the buttons were still scattered somewhere in the room.

“W-why?” You rasped, your wide eyes now having more clarity than before. It was unmistakable, the shame and desire at war within you. Your eyes pleading for more but shame that you’d let him, the man solely controlling your fate, do such a thing to you and you’d enjoyed it. Merlin, he was sure he’d never get tired of your expressiveness.

“Because I wanted to.” He smirked, a toothy grin breaking on his face.

“Mattheo, please… I can’t keep doing this with you.” Your soft, breathless voice begged.

“Of course you can, Kitten.” He trapped you between his arms against the sink, his eyes darting down to your kissable lips that he suddenly had a taste for again. “Don’t be mad because you liked it.”

“Liking it isn’t the point! I thought I was supposed to do homework and errands not-not this!” You sputtered.

“You do, what I tell you to, Kitten,” Mattheo purred, a taunting smile on his face, “But I’m in a good mood after having those perfect tits in my mouth.” Your face blushed, eyes sheepishly darting away from his.

“Next week, the guys and I are having a poker game. If you last the whole game without begging me for more, I swear I won’t touch you anymore. Hell, I’ll even forget the vase deal and you can go back to your life.” His deep voice hummed, his confidence suffocating the air, “But if I win, I can keep doing what I want until I’ve had my fill of your body.”

He saw you hesitating, a brief flash of hope flickering across your face. “All I have to do is not ask for more?”

“That’s all, Kitten.”

You nodded your head, “It’s a deal.” He found it utterly adorable that you thought you could win against him. He could see himself becoming addicted to the rush he had around you.

“It’s a deal.” He repeated, grabbing your chin to give your lips a soft peck. Though that soft peck turned into a heated clash of teeth and tongues, Mattheo not being able to help himself from craving your luscious lips. When he’d stopped your pupils were blown wide, the tongue that had just been tangled with his own flicking out to lick your lips, staining them with the taste of him.

Merlin, she wasn’t even trying to get a rise out of him.

He unlocked the bathroom and slipped out, offering one more teasing smile to you before he left. As he left he could hear you cursing him for the marks on your body and your missing buttons. He never made it to his first class that day, too busy back in his dorm wrapping his hand around his dick, stroking it to the thought of you and the excitement he had planned for you next week.

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