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angelfic · 1 year ago

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— IF I CAN’T HAVE YOU BABY

pairing: mattheo riddle x nott!reader

summary: you weren't quite used to the attention of other boys, and it seems your brother's best friend isn't too fond of it either

warnings: brother's best friend trope!! swearing, kissing, not much else, very much unedited

author’s note: i don't tend to stray outside of the marauders era characters buuuut i've been a bit obsessed with mattheo and theo recently so this was for my own selfish needs lol as always let me know what you think!!

He had barely looked away from you all evening.

You knew the only reason Mattheo’s eyes had been fixed on you for the entirety of dinner was because of a certain type of attention you had unconsciously garnered on your first day back at school. Particularly male attention. It wasn’t any less disconcerting, however, knowing that your brother’s best friend was prepared to fist fight any potential romantic advances towards you because he was just as protective as your actual older sibling.

Your brother Theodore is no better, a displeased frown appearing every five minutes when he looks over to where you sit at the Gryffindor table.

“Merlin, boys are pathetic,” Ginny mutters, spearing a potato with her fork. “You go away for one summer and come back slightly prettier and they flock to you like bees to honey!” You’re about to weakly protest that she’s exaggerating, but at that exact moment you’re interrupted by a tap on your shoulder.

You slowly turn on the bench, reluctantly lowering your goblet of pumpkin juice to face Michael Corner, a Ravenclaw boy who you’d only ever spoken to when he was going out with Ginny.

“Hi, Michael,” you sigh, offering him a bland smile.

“Hello, Nott,” Michael replies, with what he probably thinks is a winning smile. “Had a good summer? I was just going to ask if you wanted to go on the first Hogsmeade visit of the term with me.”

You stare at him, unblinking. “Er- well, as… nice as that sounds,” you say slowly, not meaning a word. You glance at Ginny as pointedly as you can manage and raise an eyebrow. “I don’t quite relish the idea of going out with my best friend’s ex.”

“Oh! I, erm, I didn’t actually see you there, Ginny,” he stammers, laughing sheepishly. “My mistake.”

“Quite,” Ginny says drily, turning back to her plate of food.

“Well, er, see you later then,” Michael mumbles, nearly tripping over himself as he rushes back to the Ravenclaw table.

You bite your lip to stifle your giggles but it’s not long before you catch Ginny’s eye and the both of you erupt into fits of laughter.

“I can’t believe I ever went out with him,” Ginny groans, wiping her eyes.

“Was he always such a tosser or is that new?” you ask, snorting at the way Ginny scrunches up her face in embarrassment.

You’re still laughing when your eyes happen to pass over the Slytherin table just to focus on Mattheo.

You notice with a jolt that he’s looking at you again. This time, his eyes flick over to the Ravenclaw table for a second where Michael has settled back onto, then back to you and he quirks a brow quizzically.

Frowning, you mouth at him to stop in hopes that he ceases his scrutiny, just for him to roll his eyes and return to whatever one-sided conversation Blaise Zabini was attempting to engage him in. You hope you don’t look as flustered as you feel after realising Mattheo has just witnessed such an embarrassing encounter, but you’ve found over the years that you’re not the best at hiding the effects he has on you. Theo has never mentioned it in front of Mattheo as far as you’re aware, but he definitely hasn’t shied away from teasing you about the childhood crush you have on your brother’s closest friend. Not that you’ve ever admitted it to him anyway, and you’ve gotten a lot better at hiding it since nothing could ever come of it.

“Your brother and Riddle have been looking like they’re ready to halve the male population of Hogwarts since we got on the bloody train,” Ginny says, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“Tell me about it,” you sigh, cutting into your carrot a little more viciously than needed. “They keep looking over at our table. I feel like I’m on one of those Muggle reality television programmes Hermione was telling your dad about the other week.”

Arthur Weasley was absolutely transfixed when he was learning about reality television from Hermione during breakfast the week you both stayed at The Burrow, and although you zoned out after his sixteenth question about a singular programme, you feel as though you caught the gist of it.

“Hm,” Ginny agrees, grimacing at the memory. She had nodded off at the table during that conversation and fallen asleep on her slice of toast. “In fairness, that’s not really a new thing.”

“What, being watched by my two guard dogs?” you ask in a mock-serious voice.

“Yeah, but…” Ginny chews thoughtfully for a second before answering. “I’m not just talking about today, or even recently. Your brother mostly minds his own business. I’m talking about Riddle. He’s always looking at you, I noticed it last year. Wherever we are, kind of like he’s checking up on you,” she says like it’s common knowledge, shrugging. “It’s sweet, I guess.”

You blink at her, a little speechless.

“What?” Ginny frowns after a few seconds of your silence. You look at her with raised eyebrows, not really taking her seriously. In your first few years at Hogwarts, you had confided in Ginny regarding your silly, little girl feelings for Mattheo and she would read into every action he took towards you in an attempt to prove he liked you too. Obviously, he saw you as nothing but a younger sister figure and once you grew up a bit, Ginny had let it go too.

Ginny reads your dubious expression now and sets down her knife and fork to cross her arms. “Oh, for heaven’s sake. I’m serious! I’m not just saying it because you were helplessly in love with him until you were, like, fourteen.”

“Shush!” you hiss, thwacking her arm. “Why don’t you just get up on stage with Dumbledore and ask him to include that titbit of information for the entire school to hear in his speech!”

“Good idea,” she says, nodding seriously and starting to get up. You know she’s just teasing, but you start spluttering and frantically grab at her sleeve to sit her back down, causing her to topple onto you slightly. This sets you both off laughing again and you find it hard to stop for the rest of dinner and desert, thankfully staying far away from the topic of Mattheo. You also pointedly avoid looking at him again.

Once dinner is over, you head to the Gryffindor common room with the rest of your house and catch up with everyone for a while. After a couple hours of socialising and fifteen minutes of helping Neville Longbottom search for his pet toad, you head up to your dorm with Ginny and Lena, one of your other dormmates, to unpack.

As soon as you open your luggage, you search for your pyjamas and immediately change out of your robes and into a t-shirt and baggy shorts for comfort. You’re in the middle of unpacking some textbooks when you hear Lena whistle from behind you.

“I do not remember those pyjamas looking like that,” Lena comments, grinning at you. Rolling your eyes, you comply with her request to do a little spin and you can’t help feeling pleased when Lena and Ginny start whooping and hollering. “You’ve always been gorgeous, but you really grew up this summer, huh? Look at those legs!”

“Tell me about it,” Ginny pipes in, flopping down on her bed and abandoning her unpacked suitcase. “She came to stay for a week and Mum looked like she was going to cry every time she saw us. Something about ‘blossoming into young ladies’ or whatever bollocks.”

“You ‘blossomed’ last year,” you point out, and Lena hums in agreement. “I haven’t forgotten how Zacharias Smith fell off his broom trying to wave at you during Quidditch practice.”

Ginny groans and starts ranting about teenage boys again. Lena joins in and starts teasing her about how Harry Potter is the only boy she hasn’t complained about and you’re about to set down your belongings to help Lena dodge the pillows Ginny is throwing at her when a flash of green and silver in your suitcase catches your eye.

“Shite, I have Theo’s uniform,” you huff, grabbing the clothes out of your suitcase and sliding your slippers on. “That means he has mine and I am not dealing with this at seven in the morning. I’m gonna go drop this off, be back in a minute.”

Ginny says goodbye before resuming her pillow attack on Lena as you make your way out of the room and down into the common room. It’s nearly empty, with most people having gone to their rooms to pack and a quick glance at the clock tells you its past curfew. You decide to take the risk since you have a reasonable excuse, but you hope that if you do get caught, it isn’t by Filch or Snape.

By the time you’ve reached the dungeons, you thank Merlin that Theo had the sense to tell you the password for the Slytherin common room before dinner in case of emergency.

“Pureblood,” you mutter, fighting the urge to scoff when the door swings open. You enter the common room and brighten up when you see that the only students still hanging around are Theo and his friends. Your brother seems to have already started unpacking since he’s standing and holding your uniform, presumably about to come and find you. His friends all mumble polite ‘hello’s and he walks up to you with a smile.

“Oh, hey, I was just-” Theo cuts himself off when he properly looks at you and frowns. “Wha- Why are you wearing pyjamas out and about?”

“You’re wearing pyjamas too!” you exclaim, slightly embarrassed that your brother is doing this in front of your friends. They all turn to look at you again, hearing the indignation in Theo’s voice and you notice Mattheo suddenly sits up straighter. Suddenly aware of your bare legs, you tug down the material of your shorts, despite the fact they aren’t even very short to begin with.

“Oi. Stop looking at my sister!”” Theo snaps, glaring at Blaise, Draco, Crabbe and Goyle. You know the only reason they glanced at you in the first place is out of curiosity regarding Theo’s question, but Theo and Mattheo scowl at them all the same and they all start sputtering, Draco in particular when Pansy narrows her eyes at him. Theo sighs at you, quickly exchanging your uniforms. “Just- at least take something to cover up back to your room.”

“I’ll walk her back,” Mattheo says, out of nowhere. He stands up and makes his way over to you, face carefully blank. Theo nods, agreeing quickly before he ruffles your hair goodbye to go and finish packing. You’re too surprised by Mattheo’s offer to protest until you’re already out of the Slytherin common room.

“I don’t need someone to walk me back, you know,” you mumble after a minute of charged silence.

“It was either me or Theo,” he shrugs, completely unapologetic when his mouth quirks up in a smug smile. “And I know you prefer me.”

“You’re both equally annoying,” you say, rolling your eyes, happy that he’s talking to you like normal again. You hated it whenever Mattheo was serious – it was rarely ever towards you and you much preferred when his whole face lit up with a smile. He begins to tease you about your bunny rabbit slippers and you’re in the middle of pretending to be irked when you both run into Ernie Macmillan, a Hufflepuff prefect doing patrol duties.

“Hey,” Ernie offers you a friendly smile and gives Mattheo a brief, slightly nervous glance. While you prefer not to get into trouble for breaking curfew, Mattheo clearly couldn’t care less and his relaxed, yet intimidating stance must be off-putting to Ernie. Thankfully, you’re on friendly terms with the Hufflepuff and you give him an even brighter smile to make up for it, to which he beams at. “How was your summer?”

“Good, yeah! Erm, listen Ernie. We didn’t mean to be out at this time, it’s just that I accidentally had my brother’s uniform and needed to-”

“Oh, forget it. Don’t worry, I won’t dock you any points,” Ernie reassures you, waving off your excuses and you instantly relax. Ernie gives Mattheo another unsure glance before leaning in the tiniest bit closer to you. You try not to pay attention to how Ernie has been glancing at your legs and how Mattheo tenses up when Ernie starts speaking again. “I was actually wondering if you were available next weekend…?”

Ernie trails off when you don’t show any indication of replying straight away and you snap out of your surprise to say something, but Mattheo beats you to it.

“She’s busy then,” he says coldly, working his jaw. “Now, if you don’t mind, it’s late. Kindly get lost.”

“Wha- Matt!” you hiss, smacking his chest to which he barely flinches, nor does he look at all apologetic. “Ernie, I-”

“Never mind,” he says quickly, seemingly eager to just leave. “I’ll, er, see you later.”

You stand frozen in shock while Ernie rushes down the corridor and turns the corner, leaving you and Mattheo alone. Turning slowly, you look at him with barely contained anger.

“Why the hell did you do that?” you demand, voice sharp as nails. If it weren’t past curfew and you weren’t in the middle of a school corridor, you would most definitely be yelling. Mattheo stands with his hands in his pockets, clenching his jaw and his silence makes you even angrier. You accepted long ago that you’d never have a chance with him, but now he was getting in the way of you having a chance with anyone. It was completely unfair. “What if I actually wanted to go out with him?!”

Mattheo scowls at this, but his impossibly dark brown eyes flash with a hint of uncertainty. “Did you?”

“What?” you ask, impatient.

“Did you want to go out with him?” he says, voice low and dangerous. He walks forward, towering over you and you refuse to be intimidated so you start walking backward until your back is against the wall. Despite having cornered you, he maintains a fair amount of distance between you, leaving plenty of space if you want to move away. You don’t.

“That’s none of your business,” you say stubbornly, raising your chin and trying your best to keep your voice steady. Mattheo narrows his eyes and reduces the distance between you ever so slightly with another small step. You nervously keep talking. “I can go out with whoever I want.” Another step. “And you can’t just-” One more step. “Matt.” His shoes are flush with your slippers.

“What?” he whispers, tilting his head and looking at you calmly, while you feeling anything but calm. “I can’t just… what?”

The previously respectable distance has gone out the window and instead you barely have space to breathe with the way Mattheo is leaning in, head dipped toward you but never touching, hands resting on the wall either side of you. He leans in, eyes dropping to your lips and your heart leaps in your chest with anticipation, but he ghosts his lips over your jaw instead and the barely-there contact has you breathing unevenly.

“You can’t…” you exhale, trying to finish your sentence with some dignity and failing miserably. “You can’t just scare people off like an overprotective older brother.”

Mattheo stills, lifting his head enough to meet your eyes, but making no move to distance himself any further. He scoffs quietly. “Brother,” he says the word with a mildly disgusted scowl. “Is that what you think I want to be?”

“I- I don’t…”

“You don’t know,” Mattheo finishes for you, the corners of his mouth turning up, yet his expression is devoid of humour. “No, you don’t know how badly I wanted to hex Macmillan just now. How badly I wanted to try out some new, experimental spells on that fucking Ravenclaw earlier. But none of that had anything to do with brotherly feelings.”

“They were just being nice,” you say stupidly, with not a clue in the world as to why you’re defending them right now. If anything, you’re just confused.

Mattheo quirks a brow, tongue pressing against his cheek as he considers your words. “That Ravenclaw from earlier was talking about you on the train. He said he was going to ask you out at dinner because you’d ‘gotten hot’ over summer,” Mattheo sneers, like he’s suddenly regretting not hexing Michael Corner in the Great Hall. “They weren’t being nice.”

All of a sudden, you feel irritated because you have no idea why Mattheo is telling you any of this. “What’s wrong with a boy finding me attractive? Is that such a crazy idea?” you demand, part of you not wanting him to answer.

“Merlin, do I seriously have to say it?” he groans, sighing when you glare at him. Mattheo takes a breath, meeting your eyes and you marvel at the sincerity you see when he speaks. “You didn’t ‘get hot’ over the summer. You’ve always been beautiful and they’re idiots for not paying attention then.”

Your breath catches in your throat, whether it’s from emotion or from the close proximity with Mattheo, you aren’t sure. “You think I’m beautiful?”

Mattheo nods, leaning back in to brush his nose against your own, his breath mingling with yours. “Always have.”

You take this as a cue to grab the collar of his shirt and pull him in and the next thing you know, his mouth is firm against yours, and his hands are finally touching you, grabbing you by the waist and sliding up your back to hold you closer. You’ve thought about kissing Mattheo before, but the thoughts feel utterly stupid compared to the real thing. Mattheo kisses you fiercely, mouth sliding hot and wet against your own making you come alive and weakening you at the same time. He nips at your bottom lip and you gasp, causing him to smile into the kiss. Your hands are sliding up his chest to snake around his neck when a thought suddenly occurs to you and you pull away abruptly.

“Oh my God, Theodore,” you hiss, covering your mouth with your hand. Mattheo furrows his brows, looking a little dazed and confused. “What are we going to tell him?”

“He knows I’ve loved you since we were kids,” Mattheo says flippantly, waving you off and impatiently starting to lean in again, but you stop him with a hand on his chest. “What?”

“You’ve loved me since we were kids?” The words hardly register, but before you can feel any sort of elation, you mostly feel pissed off that your brother has clearly had his fun with the situation for years. “And Theo knows?”

“Yes,” Mattheo says slowly, as if he were talking to a child. He brushes the hair out of your face and his gaze turns a little uncertain when he speaks. “Er, this is hopefully the part where you say you feel the same way.”

“Well, of course I feel the same way,” you huff, still thoroughly annoyed at Theo. “He knew I was crazily in love with you too and the bastard was so irritating about it!”

You’re about three quarters of the way down a list of ways you want to get back at your brother when Mattheo gently turns your face by the chin to look at him. “As much as I’d love for you to plot against your brother right now, it’s kind of a mood killer thinking about him when I’m kissing you.”

“Sorry, sorry. Continue with the kissing.”

“How romantic,” he says drily. His smirk turns smug, however, when he processes your previous statement. “So… you were in love with me too. What was the word you used, again? Crazily? Crazily in love…”

“Don’t make me take it back, ‘cause I swear I will.”

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anto-pops · 11 months ago

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Cheirophilia - Sebastian Sallow x Female!Reader

Summary: Following the summer leading up to your seventh year, you return to Hogwarts to discover that Sebastian has undergone changes that greatly appeal to the eye. Your eye, to be specific. There’s no easy way to tell the man you’ve been dating for two years that your attention has been fixed on a part of him otherwise deemed normal, but after a while, you’re forced to face the truth of the matter.

Alternatively summarized as you have a hand kink and Sebastian Sallow has extremely nice hands.

Word Count: 10.7k

Warnings: 18+, aged up characters, explicit sexual content, hand kink, size difference

Full fic can be found here on Ao3 (with more diverse tags)

You had to be losing your mind. That was the only plausible explanation for the wild, unrestrained thoughts that had been plaguing your brain for the last week every time you so much as glanced at Sebastian. Yes, he was attractive. He was charming and confident, and quite frankly he was the epitome of male perfection as far as you were concerned. Not a day went by where you didn’t consider yourself lucky to be able to call him yours, and you knew he was just as enamored with you.

But your newfound infatuation with his hands had started relatively recently, and you had no clue what to make of it.

Sebastian was touchy to begin with, and he always had been. From casually brushing shoulders with you in the Great Hall during mealtimes, to tucking your hair behind your ears at night– the man was constantly finding ways to be closer to you, and your appreciation for his efforts knew no bounds. It made you feel treasured, wanted, revered, and a slew of other things that made your heart swell with affection. Maybe you could attribute your blatant ogling of his appendages to that, or maybe you had just finally started to notice after your Divination class last week.

Professor Onai, for all her outlandish preachings on clairvoyance, had taken a more mundane approach in teaching her students ‘fortune telling’ a few days ago. “Palm reading,” she had said, “is a delicate and fixed art. It can be as vague as it can be accurate, and it takes an expertly trained eye to decipher the true meaning behind the grooves in one’s hand.”

You were far from an expert in anything relating to Divination, but you did have an eye for nice things, and Merlin– were Sebastian’s hands exquisite. They were nearly twice the size of yours and covered in calluses, a lingering sign of the grueling physical labor he’d done over the summer in Feldcroft. His fingers weren’t as dainty as Ominis’, but they were long, thick, and lined with pulsing veins that stretched across the backs of his hands and coiled around his toned forearms. As you’d traced the lines on his palm with your fingers, he’d shivered at the featherlight feeling and chuckled at the deferential way you seemed to commit every part of the appendage to memory.

You didn’t even want to begin to recount the way your heart had hammered in your chest when it had been his turn to read your palm. Maintaining your composure had taken every ounce of willpower in your body.

Since then, your mind had wandered an unhealthy amount.

By some miracle, Sebastian hadn’t noticed your unwavering eye contact with his hands yet. The two of you had been kept preoccupied with the mountains of classwork that came with the start of the new school year, and as a result, your only opportunities to spend time with him had been during mealtimes. Today was different, however, because Lucan had finally set up the first Crossed Wands match of the season. You and Sebastian were both participating, and your boyfriend was all too eager to jump back into dueling after the summer months spent away.

Your eyes scanned him dutifully from across the room, watching with rapt interest as he chatted with Brattleby about the upcoming fight. Sebastian had grown considerably since your fifth-year, virtually towering over Lucan as he looked down at the curly haired Gryffindor. The latter had gone through a growth spurt of his own, but it was easy to overlook him when he was standing next to your boyfriend. Sebastian was big; broad shouldered with long, powerful legs and thick wrists that complimented his massive, mouthwatering hands.

Said hands were fidgeting with the cuffs of his shirt as he rolled them up, nodding down at Lucan as he replied to something the younger boy had said. You didn’t know what they were discussing, and quite frankly, you didn’t care. His deft fingers adjusted his uniform as he prepared for your duo’s duel, and instead of following suit, you were unabashedly studying his every move. That is, until a voice from your left drew your attention.

“Did something happen over summer?”

You startled easily, warranting an eye roll from Imelda as she crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back against the wall. It was a rarity to find her in the Crossed Wands courtyard, but you knew she had been hounding members of the Quidditch team to prepare for trial runs and scrimmages, and Sebastian factored into that assortment of people. Schooling your nerves the best you could, you started to shed your robe in an effort to simultaneously get ready for the duel and distract from the metaphorical eye candy across the room.

“What do you mean,” you asked vaguely, keeping your eyes pointed at the floor as you moved.

Imelda was having none of it– clearly smarter than you deigned to give her credit for. “Don’t play coy with me. You’re always checking Sallow out, but since we’ve been back it’s ten times worse. Did he sprout a second cock or something?”

You damn near choked on your own tongue as you whipped around to glare at her. “Do you have to be so crass all the time?”

She waved you off, “Yes, I do. Who else would rile you up this way if not myself? Now answer the question.”

Heaving a deep sigh, you draped your robe over a stack of crates and began to gather your hair back into a loose braid as you muttered, “No, nothing happened over summer.”

“But something is going on. Come on,” she implored with a taunting tone, her brown eyes glimmering with amusement. “At least tell me if it’s something bad.”

“It’s not bad,” you relented. “It’s– I’m not sure what it is, to be honest. We haven’t even done anything since we’ve been back, we’ve been too busy. But…”

You trailed off, staring at the wall behind Imelda as you brought your hair over your shoulder to finish off the plait. She waited patiently, however, all too eager to get the inside scoop on your love life. “But?”

“I don’t know– have you ever found yourself focused on other body parts? Like, really random parts of another person?”

The Quidditch captain’s face shifted into a confused expression as she chanced a look at Sebastian, evidently trying to figure out what on Godric’s green Earth you were referring to. “Uh, no? If you’re talking about his feet though then I’m going to ask that you forget I even brought this up–”

“No!” You blurted loudly, drawing the attention of a handful of students in the courtyard, Sebastian included. He cocked a brow at you from across the room, and you flashed him a bashful smile in silent reply before mouthing a timid ‘sorry’. Imelda snickered under her breath when you turned back to her, a deep scowl settling on your face. “Dammit, not his fucking feet. I’m talking about his hands. He has really nice hands– I never noticed before.”

“You’re telling me you’ve had your knickers in a twist for the last week and a half because of Sallow’s hands?”

To say Imelda looked dumbstruck would be an understatement, and you suddenly felt incredibly stupid for having said anything at all. You kept your eyes downcast as you tossed your braided hair over your shoulder and slid your wand free from its holster, doing your best to ignore the woman’s burning stare. “Nevermind– forget I mentioned it.”

“I doubt I could even if I wanted to, but for the sake of your dignity I’ll go grab a seat and let you get your head in the game.” You felt your cheeks heat up instantly in response to her snide comment, and you lifted your eyes in time to watch Imelda turn towards the far corner of the room with a smile on her face. She paused before taking off, murmuring over her shoulder, “Make sure you’re paying attention to your opponents and not Sallow’s hands.”

Sweet Merlin… you should have kept your big mouth shut.

***

As it turned out, your head was so far out of the game that it became collateral in the midst of your duo’s duel.

It was your own fault, really. Despite doing your best to focus on the task at hand, your eyes had continually wandered over to Sebastian, tracking his movements as he fired spell after spell in retaliation against your opponents. He had always been exceptionally graceful while fighting– be it in Crossed Wands or in the Highlands at your side– and his sudden growth spurt over summer had only added to his preexisting agility. It was all too easy for you to get absorbed in his fluid movements as he ducked and rolled, then blocked and countered every attack with astonishing finesse.

Unfortunately, that meant you were left wholly unprepared for the Depulso charm that sent you careening across the room into a stack of crates. Your head had been positively spinning as you pushed yourself up onto your elbows, but your vision cleared in time to watch as Sebastian abandoned the duel entirely to hurry over to where you lay prone against the broken wood. Lucan had shouted something about the match being called off, but you could hardly pay any attention to his words with Sebastian fretting over you, mere inches from your face.

“Merlin’s bloody balls, what the hell happened?” The brunet hadn’t even given you ample time to reply before he had hoisted you up in his strong, capable arms to carry you to the Hospital Wing.

That was how you’d ended up where you were now; laid out in an uncomfortable hospital bed with Nurse Blainey hovering too close for comfort while your boyfriend sat beside you with his arms crossed stiffly over his chest. His expression was virtually unreadable, but you weren’t able to focus on him for long without your head pounding in silent protest.

“Drink this,” Nurse Blainey dutifully instructed, thrusting a vial of Wiggenweld in front of you as she scanned your bandaged temple. “It will help with the swelling and the gods-awful headache I’m sure you’re sporting. My diagnostic spells came back negative for any internal injuries, but that doesn’t mean you can rush back to your foolhardy dueling club. A concussion is a concussion, no matter how small.”

Your tongue felt like lead in your mouth so you nodded in response instead of speaking– only to instantly regret the movement. Sharp, concentrated pain shot through your head, and you took it as a sign to carefully knock back the contents of the potion she’d given you. A soothing warmth overtook you in a split second, and the throbbing in your skull lessened considerably, prompting you to relax against the pillows situated behind you as your eyelids fluttered. Evidently pleased with your subdued demeanor, Nurse Blainey jotted something down on the clipboard that had been tucked under her arm before turning to Sebastian.

“I trust that you’ll ensure she actually takes it easy for the next few days, Mr. Sallow?”

Your eyes cracked open in time to watch Sebastian’s gaze flicker to yours, and the muscle in his jaw ticked as his attention zero’d in on the thick bandage that now adorned your head. “Of course. She’ll be a model patient for as long as needed.”

Satisfied with his agreement, Nurse Blainey pivoted on her heel and strode to the back end of the room, leaving you and Sebastian alone in a tense silence.

Heaving a heavy sigh, you gathered your hands in your lap and let your head tip back against the bed frame, wanting nothing more than for the ground to open up and swallow you whole. All of this because you couldn’t stop ogling your boyfriend for a measly twenty minutes when it mattered most… it was an embarrassing and stupid mistake to acknowledge. Moreover, you’d basically ruined the first Crossed Wands duel of the season– something you knew had to be bothering Sebastian, given his competitive nature.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled half-heartedly. “I should have been paying closer attention.”

Sebastian scoffed to your left, and when you peered at him through the corner of your eye, his head looked like it was on the verge of imploding. “Are you seriously apologizing for getting a concussion right now?”

There was no stopping the frown that spread across your face, and you nervously started picking at your cuticles as your mouth opened, shut, then opened again. “Yes– I mean– no. I’m sorry that the match got canceled because of me. You were probably excited to get back into Crossed Wands and I just… messed it up. I wasn’t thinking clearly out there.”

“Obviously,” Sebastian countered easily, the amused glimmer in his eyes vanishing before you could take proper note of it. “You’re never one to let your mind wander when you fight, but you have to know I��m not mad about the duel. I was worried about you– I don’t think you realize how terrifying it is to see you of all people bleeding.”

You gaze fell to your lap as you pursed your lips and lifted your hand to the bandage taped to your temple, trying and failing to recall if you’d actually bled at all. It was all something of a blur if you were being honest. When you looked up at Sebastian once more, he had sat forward in his seat and was reaching towards you, wearing an expression that was equal parts concerned and curious. With your brain still muddled, all you could really do was stare wide-eyed at the nearing culprit of your misfortune; his Merlin-be-damned hands. Those long, flexing digits came to gently stroke the side of your cheek, turning your head to the side briefly to allow him a good look at your patched up face, and as Sebastian tsk’d disapprovingly, you were fighting back a slew of unholy thoughts that had no business arising in the midst of such a tender moment.

The side of his mouth quirked up as he thought back to your debacle in the clock tower courtyard. “Did your inability to ‘think clearly’ have anything to do with whatever you and Imelda were talking about earlier?”

Being reminded of your discussion with the Slytherin woman at such an inopportune time caused your face to flush a deep red, and you nervously clasped your boyfriend’s larger hand in your notably smaller one and drew it into your lap. You gently thumbed over the veins on the back of his hand, taking note of the constellation of freckles that ran up his wrist and forearm, and you saw Sebastian tilt his head to the side as he let you fondle the limb.

“Maybe…” you drawled lazily. Perhaps you would chalk it up to your concussion later on, or perhaps you just wanted to get your insane obsession off your chest. Regardless of the why, you steeled your nerves and swallowed thickly before muttering, “You have really nice hands.”

Silence. Sebastian said nothing– and that was considerably worse than him saying something– anything. Your brows slammed down just as you lifted your head to gauge his reaction, only to discover a bewildered smile plastered on his smarmy face.

“…I think you hit your head harder than I thought. Should I call Nurse Blainey back over here?”

Ah. He thought you were delusional. Brilliant.

Letting go of him as though his skin were heated metal, you sighed and sat forward to swing your legs over the edge of the bed, shivering slightly when Sebastian placed his hand on your hip to steady you. His face conveyed genuine apprehension as he asked, “Are you sure you should be trying to move right now?”

Part of you was thankful he hadn’t taken your confession seriously, but another stronger part of you was annoyed that you had said anything to begin with. Here was Sebastian, acting chivalrous and doting on you in the wake of you flying face first into a crate, and all you cared to think about was having his hands on you. On your bare skin, between your legs, around your neck…

Something was definitely wrong with you.

“I’m alright– stop worrying. I promise I won’t overdo it. At this point I just want to eat and go to sleep.” Thankfully he made no move to stop you when you stood yourself up on shaky legs, instead placing that damnable hand on the small of your back to help you keep your balance. You closed your eyes momentarily to will away the vile, uncouth thoughts that seemed to run rampant in your concussed skull, but if the way his fingers tensed against you was any indication, Sebastian clearly thought your brief pause was due to your injury.

“Fine,” he bit out, sounding all too displeased with your stubbornness. “Food, then straight to your dorm. But if I think for even a second you can’t manage, I’m carrying you to bed myself.”

It hurt to do it, but your eye roll was heavily warranted. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, dad.”

As the two of you walked from the Hospital Wing to the Great Hall, you realized just how serious Sebastian was about his promise to Nurse Blainey. His hands were constantly hovering at your side, ready to catch you at a moment's notice in the event you required the help, which you fortunately weren’t in need of. You didn’t think you could take any more coddling– or any more… hands-on-torment, so to speak.

Ominis joined the two of you for lunch shortly after you’d arrived, and you were unsurprised to discover that he was very much aware of your blunder in Crossed Wands earlier. He made sure you were in good spirits and feeling alright before he began nagging you in typical Ominis fashion.

“Honestly, a Depulso charm?” He chastised you further, resting his chin on his palm as his other hand came to tap absentmindedly against the surface of the table. “I would have expected something like Bombarda to finally end your win-streak, not a paltry Force spell.”

“That’s what happens when you get complacent,” Sebastian added helpfully, skewering yet another sausage from the platter in front of you. He had to have inhaled four of the blasted things already. Those deep brown eyes of his darkened as they shifted to the injury on your temple, and if he deposited his food on his plate a little more aggressively than normal, you certainly didn’t say anything about it. “She’s just lucky things didn’t end up worse.”

Ominis hummed in agreement and looked in your direction. “Yes, do make sure you’re not breaking your fall with your face anymore. I would like to think the three of us will graduate in one piece together, but between the two of you and your extracurriculars, my hopes are lessening by the day.”

“Ha ha, very funny,” came your monotonous reply. “Thanks for the words of encouragement, guys. You really know how to make a girl feel better about getting launched into a bunch of boxes.”

“Well it was quite the spectacle. I’m sure you’ll be the talk of the school for at least a few days, so get used to it.”

You didn’t even need to turn around to know Imelda stood directly behind you, presumably with her hands on her hips and a wicked smile stretching from ear to ear. She was exactly who you didn’t want to deal with right about now– especially considering she was the only living soul privy to your innermost thoughts regarding Sebastian– but she had no qualms about sidling up beside you and making herself comfortable at the table. Her face swam into your peripheral vision as she inquisitively scanned the side of your head now decked out in thick gauze and tape. “So, what’s the verdict? Brain hemorrhage? Cracked skull? Memory loss?”

“Concussion,” Sebastian answered around a mouthful of food. He fixed you with a stern look as though to remind you, “She’s been instructed to take it easy for a few days which means no broom trials, Reyes. Don’t even think about dragging her off the castle grounds.”

The Quidditch captain’s hands shot up in mock surrender, her expression the picture of innocence as she shifted back a little in her seat. “Wouldn’t dream of it. I take it that means you’ll be out of class for the foreseeable future?”

You answered swiftly this time around, lest your boyfriend deign to speak on your behalf once again. You’d hurt your head, not your mouth. “For today at least, yeah. I doubt I’d be much good in Transfiguration with a splitting headache.”

If you were only allowed one word to describe the look that overtook Imelda’s face, that word would be trouble. Her tawny eyes crinkled at their corners as a mischievous glint twinkled within them, and you could practically see her gearing up to say something you knew would piss you off. She folded her hands neatly over one another atop the table and leaned sideways on her elbow to shoot you a conniving look, and you couldn’t help but stiffen as a wave of apprehension crept up your spine.

“Well let me know if you need a hand getting notes for the day. Though I’m sure Sallow would be more than happy to assist. Isn’t that right, Sebastian?”

The emphasis she placed on the word didn’t escape you, and judging by the confused expressions on both Ominis’ and Sebastian’s faces, they didn’t miss it either. It took unwavering focus to maintain your composure and not react, and you prayed to whatever higher power existed that your cheeks weren’t as rouge as they felt. You sighed softly and glanced at the brunet through your lashes, all too aware of the puzzled look he now bore. “How about it?” You opted to simply play along for the time being in a bid to hide the true meaning behind Imelda’s telling comment. “Can you bring me the notes later?”

Sebastian nodded slowly, his gaze shifting between you and Imelda for a long moment before he set his fork down and ran his long, dexterous fingers through his hair. Your eyes tracked the movement against your will, which only seemed to intensify the curious glimmer in his dark eyes, and when he flashed you that sinful Sallow smirk you were all too familiar with, you swallowed nervously.

Surely Imelda hadn’t just helped him put two and two together, right?

“Am I missing something here?” Ominis chimed in from across the table, a scowl tugging at the corners of his lips.

“No, no,” Imelda said, the words dripping with false dismissal. The urge to throttle her was intense. “I was just implying that our dear friend here is bound to be a handful for the next few days, so she’ll need help. Let me know if I can do anything, although I’m sure you’d much rather have Sebastian be the one to–”

She was cut off by the booming slap of your hands against the tabletop as you clambered to your feet, desperate to escape her pointed comments and Sebastian’s prying stare. “Will do!” you exclaimed with too much bite. You lowered your voice and did your best to keep your tone even, “I’m sure I’ll manage, but I can’t be bothered to figure it all out right now. I’ll just– I’ll see you guys later.”

You didn’t dare look back as you swung your legs over the bench and took off towards the massive double doors. At this point, you were wishing that your collision with the crates had put you in a coma. Maybe then you could have avoided Imelda’s inevitable pestering, but even then you were positive your nuisance of a friend would have found a way to taunt you in your dreams. This was something you were going to have to acknowledge with Sebastian sooner or later, but until that day came you would do everything in your power to avoid any more awkward run-ins with Imelda. At least when Sebastian was with you, you reasoned. For now, you needed to get away from the general public and sleep on your deranged thoughts before anything else embarrassing could happen.

Apparently the universe had other plans for you, however. You recognized Sebastian’s heavy footsteps running up behind you without even checking to be certain, and even though you wanted nothing more than to fall into bed and sleep the remainder of the day away, when his large hand came to coil around your bicep to halt you in your tracks, you let him.

“Hey, are you alright?” His eyes softened as they took in your miserable appearance, but all you could pay attention to was the feeling of his thumb caressing the back of your arm as he held you in place. “I’m sorry if I upset you– I didn’t realize Imelda was trying to poke bruises, otherwise I would have told her to leave as soon as she came over.”

Shaking your head absently, you stared over Sebastian’s shoulder and directed your next words towards the wall, because that was infinitely easier than eye contact at the present moment. “I’m not upset, you don’t have to apologize. She’s just… a lot to handle right now.”

“I’ll say,” he concurred easily, moving his head so it was in your line of sight– only to furrow his brow when you ducked your chin to avoid looking at him. His jaw clenched and his hand around your arm tightened, if only briefly, and then he was tugging you along after him. “Come on, I’ll walk you to your dorm.”

***

He knew.

He had to know.

It was the only plausible explanation you could come up with to give reason to Sebastian’s over-exaggerated use of his hands for the last three days. At first you hadn’t thought much of it; you still had a staring problem and Sebastian still had really nice hands, but the difference in the last seventy-two hours was apparent. It was as though your boyfriend was modeling his hands for you, constantly finding ways to dangle the appendages right under your nose and simultaneously letting his touch linger against your skin for far longer than normal. It was driving you insane, and you were positive he was doing it intentionally.

Realistically it had started the day after your botched Crossed Wands duel. You, Ominis, and Sebastian had been sitting in the Library to study and work on assignments, your motley trio focused intently on your individual work for the bulk of the afternoon. Ominis was using his dictation quill to take notes, his foggy blue eyes narrowed in concentration while he muttered softly under his breath. Sebastian skimmed his own Herbology textbook with hooded eyes, the book propped against the knee he had crossed over his other leg, and his laid back posture coupled with the way his fingers idly played with the hair around his temples was enough to leave you entranced. Once he had taken notice of your staring, however, he’d smirked to himself and made a show of licking his finger to turn the page over, maintaining eye contact with you the entire time.

You didn’t need a mirror to know you’d flushed beet red at the suggestive act.

The day after that, the two of you had been in Defense Against the Dark Arts class. Sebastian had been asked to demonstrate the proper wand movement for Confringo by Professor Hecat, and shortly thereafter she had asked another student, Hector Jenkins, to take point across from your boyfriend for a friendly duel. Naturally you were prohibited from participating without Nurse Blainey’s go-ahead, so you’d stood at the back of the crowd and looked on ahead with rapt interest, eager to watch Sebastian make short work of his opponent, because of course he would. Chocolate brown eyes had met yours from across the room, and the movement that followed was subtle but obvious– at least, to you it was.

As Professor Hecat droned on and reminded her students of the rules that went hand-in-hand with dueling in class, Sebastian fondled his wand. Quite literally. His nimble fingers had run along the wood, stroking the handle with such a light touch that his pinky had remained elevated the entire time. His thumb and index finger came to pinch at the tip softly before skimming down towards the checkered handle, and he made a dramatic show of wrapping each one of his fingers around the base before deftly angling the thin wood at you.

Your breath had caught in your throat at the brazen motion, and Sebastian shamelessly winked at you before settling into the usual, confident persona he embodied while fighting.

To say you’d become a ball of nerves afterwards would be a monumental understatement. You wound up leaning back against the wall with your ankles crossed to ease the rampant ache that had settled between your legs, doing your best to not look like you were going into an animalistic heat, which was easier said than done.

Later on during dinner in the Great Hall, you found yourself seated next to Sebastian and across from Ominis, as per usual. The evening had started out much the same as always; with the three of you discussing the events of the day and planning for the upcoming weekend. The only difference was your boyfriend had seemingly taken it upon himself to distract you from the conversation entirely, covertly placing his hand on your thigh beneath the table to run the damn thing up and down your leg. Every time he reached your knee, he would steadily drag his palm higher up, teasing you with an occasional squeeze the closer he got to your center. Since you didn’t want to clue Ominis in on his best friend’s antics you were forced to keep your lips firmly sealed– left with no choice but to silently endure your boyfriend’s unique form of torture.

As Ominis idly discussed wanting to escape to The Three Broomsticks on Saturday, Sebastian’s grip on your leg tightened while he sat forward to spoon a serving of the night’s dessert onto his plate; a colorful fruit tart with a healthy dollop of whipped cream slapped on top. You swallowed thickly as he delicately skewered a strawberry with his fork and brought it to his lips, pausing to reply to Ominis before popping it in his mouth.

“I’m game, better to go now before Quidditch practice starts again. Merlin only knows how many trials Imelda intends on cramming into my weekends before long.”

Ominis snorted and set his cutlery down on his plate, “You say that as though she’s doing it to spite you and you alone. In case you’ve forgotten, there’s six other people to account for on the team, and not all of them were blessed with the free time to practice over summer like you.”

Sebastian side-eyed you briefly, and the corner of his mouth quirked up into a condescending grin. “That has a whole lot of nothing to do with me and everything to do with them being lazy. But my point still stands– that woman lives to invade my free time, so butterbeers this weekend sounds like a solid plan. What do you say, darling?”

The brunet chose that exact moment to sensually take the strawberry between his teeth and pull it free from the fork prongs, smiling wickedly at you all the while. A tiny bit of the whipped cream had stayed behind on his bottom lip, but before you could point it out to him or wipe it away yourself, Sebastian did exactly that, drawing his finger into his mouth to suck deviously at the remnants. Your eyes were wider than saucers as you watched his tongue lave over the pad of his thumb and forefinger, and the telling squeeze he bestowed upon your thigh immediately afterwards all but confirmed your fears.

He absolutely fucking knew.

***

“I think there’s something on your mind,” Sebastian said from beside you. “Something that’s been on your mind for a while now. Care to share?”

The two of you were on your way to the Room of Requirement, having just left the Hospital Wing after Nurse Blainey had summoned you there to evaluate your recovery progress following your mentally arduous week. She’d been all too pleased when Sebastian told her you had adhered to her guidelines to the letter– minimizing your physical activity and resting at every opportune moment, much to your boyfriend’s credit. After a few diagnostic scans, mobility trials, and a never ending list of questions designed to test your memory, she had deemed you fit to return to your usual activities– though not before making you swear to stay out of her sight for the rest of the year.

Affectionately, of course.

Sebastian’s comment reeled you back to the present moment, however, and you shot him a stern look out of the corner of your eye as you ascended the spiral staircase within the Astronomy Tower. “Unless you’re referring to how stunned I’ve been thanks to your obscene behavior this week, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He skipped ahead of you until he reached the top landing, spinning on his heel to face you as you breezed past him without so much as a second glance. “Oh, but I think you do. Surely you know why I’ve been behaving so ‘obscenely’. You’re the one who gave me the idea after all.”

Keeping your expression schooled was difficult, but you managed. As the wall concealing the door to the Room of Requirement began to shift and change, you were all too aware of Sebastian sidling up next to you so he could run the tips of his fingers up your arm and over your shoulder, sending shiver-inducing chills down your spine. The gesture was intimate and suggestive, and you sighed softly as you stepped out of his reach to make for the fully formed entryway in front of you– not particularly keen on putting on a show for any students that potentially milled about the tower.

You made it three steps inside the room before Sebastian grabbed you by your shoulder and spun you sideways, swiftly and effortlessly guiding you backwards until your back collided with the wall, and the startled gasp that ripped from your chest seemed to ignite a spark of interest in your boyfriend’s eyes. The hand he had on you traveled up along the smooth skin of your neck until he had a loose grip on your chin, and the sinful way his thumb trailed over your bottom lip spoke volumes about his intentions.

“Do I need to coax the truth out of you, or can you be a good girl and say what it is you want?” His other hand slipped beneath the fabric of your blouse, his touch blazing and leaving you hot with want the higher up your torso it traveled. The tantalizing feeling of his blunt nails scraping along the plane of your stomach had your muscles clenching and your breath hitching, and Sebastian dipped his head lower so he was directly in your line of sight. You knew he saw your rampant need for him reflected in your eyes when his pupils dilated, and he moved his thumb away from your lip to caress your cheekbone as you stared wide-eyed up at him. He cocked his head to the side as he goaded you further, “Come on, darling. You’ve never had a problem with saying what’s on your mind before, why switch up on me now?”

“Because it–” you started to say, cutting off mid-explanation when Sebastian curled his long fingers around your waist to press against your ribs in a way that nullified all coherent thought. His domineering presence over you left you nearly breathless.

He smirked, all too aware of the effect he currently had on you. “It what?”

Merlin, he was doing you in with barely any effort. Reducing you to nothing at the hands of his… well, hands. You were pathetic. He waited for your response though, his fingers dancing up your side promisingly while you worked to formulate a sentence. “I-It’s ridiculous,” you stammered out. “It’s embarrassing…”

The hand he’d tenderly ghosted across your cheek slipped behind your head, and his fingers tangled in your hair at the back of your skull to tug gently. The motion forced you to crane your chin up to follow Sebastian’s unwavering gaze, and his lips were close enough to yours that you felt his airy chuckle fan across your nose. “I already know what it is and I can tell you this much; you and I have very different definitions of what qualifies as ‘embarrassing’, darling.” His head dipped into the crook of your neck so he could better bestow wet, open mouthed kisses against your thundering pulse, and your stomach flipped at the sordid sounds he made as he went. “Come on, say it,” he implored you, his voice like velvet. “It’s only us here– tell me what you want.”

“I…” you began, shuddering immediately after when Sebastian nipped at the spit-slick skin of your throat. Finding the words was only going to get increasingly difficult from here on out, you wagered. “I want your hands on me. I haven’t been able to get the thought out of my mind since school started.”

As though to punctuate his retort, Sebastian’s hold on your hair and your waist intensified, and a barely there squeak weaseled its way past your lips as he pulled away from your throat to fix you with a heated look. “My hands are already on you, sweetheart. Tell me why, use your big girl voice.”

Bastard. Your eyes sharpened in response to his quip, and your palms came to rest flat against the larger man’s chest before you dug your nails into the fabric of his shirt. “Because you really do have very nice hands. Because the mere idea of having them on me does things to me that I can’t begin to describe. And because I’m asking you nicely,” you purred the last bit to the best of your ability, relishing in the insatiable, hungry look that crossed Sebastian’s face at your tone. “Touch me, Sebastian. I want you– all of you. Please?”

As soon as Sebastian’s lips captured yours, your inhibitions ceased to exist. All you could taste, smell, feel, and hear was him, and judging by the demanding way he pulled you flush against him by your waist, that was exactly what he was going for. You keened needily as his nails dug into your sensitive skin and the fingers buried in your hair wound tight around the strands, and your boyfriend eagerly bit at your lips before backing away just enough to stare at you through his hooded, lust-dark eyes.

“Keep talking to me like that and I’ll do anything you want,” he groaned, utterly captivated by the sight of you so wound up. You caved to his ministrations completely then, your stomach flipping over on itself when his chest pressed against yours and sealed you more firmly to the wall. His groin followed soon after– the long, hard length of him tangible through his trousers as he leaned into your spread legs further– and your own hands finally came to grasp at his shoulders when he rolled his hips against yours fervently.

“Touch me,” you implored him, the request practically a whisper as it fell from your lips. “Your hands– please, Sebastian.”

A pleased sound snaked its way through Sebastian’s clenched teeth as he obliged you instantly, releasing your waist and hair to run his hands down your torso before delving beneath your shirt. The rough, chill-inducing feeling of his calloused palms trailing against the bare skin of your stomach had you moaning in earnest, and your head tipped back against the wall with a thunk as he cupped your breasts in those heavenly hands you’d grown to adore so much. Sebastian took full advantage of your submissive position and buried his head in the exposed crook of your neck, his warm breath fanning across your skin as he murmured, “You sound incredible when you beg, darling. So fucking perfect– gods.”

No words came to you to formulate a reply, especially when your boyfriend’s tongue darted out of his mouth to lave down the slender column of your throat, the biting sting of his teeth on your shoulder following soon after. Your next breath caught in your chest when Sebastian ground his stiffening cock against you once more, and his airy chuckle against you was seductive and ripe with promise. Those nimble fingers of his clawed gently over the rounded tops of your breasts before pinching your hardened nipples, and that was what finally pulled coherent English from your lips.

“Fuck,” you groaned, unaware of just how much the brunet adored the needy timbre to your voice.

Sebastian’s hands left your body for the briefest of moments to push himself off the wall, then took you by the hand to guide you towards the small bedroom tucked away in the back of the Room of Requirement. Between the two of you, your combined excitement was palpable– thick enough to cut with a knife– and as soon as you made it through the threshold of the door, he was back on you in a heartbeat. It was all a flurry of lips, teeth, and tongue as he steered you backwards towards the spacious bed, those magnificent hands of his holding your hips steady with firm reassurance.

Once the backs of your calves connected with the mattress, Sebastian pulled away from your mouth with a wicked smirk, giving you a playful shove that sent you sprawling back on the bed with a startled yelp. It hardly mattered, though. Not when the man before you began undoing the buttons on his own shirt, exposing the tanned, freckled expanse of his toned chest. Not when he shrugged the attire off his sculpted shoulders and lowered himself to his knees so he could peer at you over your bent knees. Nothing else mattered aside from him.

“You know,” he started to say as his hands reappeared on your hips, tugging at the waistline of your trousers so they started to slide over your hip bones. “You’ve inadvertently given me lots of new ideas.”

A shiver coursed its way down your spine at the suggestive tone he spoke the words with, amplified tenfold by the unrepentant fantasies that flickered through your mind. “Oh really?”

“Really,” he agreed simply. The corner of his mouth twitched upwards and he gestured wordlessly for you to lift your hips so he could slide your pants down your outstretched legs. You obeyed, if only to get a move on with things so you could see the new ‘ideas’ Sebastian had apparently come up with. Dark, eager eyes met yours as he dropped your clothing to the floor, and then Sebastian asked, “Do you trust me?”

Without missing a beat, you murmured, “Always.”

Not another word was uttered, and you watched through hooded eyes as Sebastian prowled up the edge of the mattress to crawl over your prone form. Amusement seemingly glimmered in his lust-laden gaze as he set to expertly unbuttoning your shirt with his adroit digits, revealing inch after inch of your flushed torso, and goosebumps broke out over your stomach in the wake of Sebastian’s knuckles brushing against your heated flesh.

He didn’t bother removing your blouse fully, opting to instead flick the sides of the undone top outward to let them hang disheveled against your sides. The shallow, anticipatory breaths you let loose was the only sound you made as the freckled man above you gathered your wrists in one of his larger hands to pin them above your head, and the entire time he worked to restrain your arms, his eye contact with you remained unwavering. Warriness and excitement alike pooled in the lower pit of your gut, mixing with the telltale ache between your legs that fueled the heat that slithered through your veins.

Sebastian’s free hand came to touch you then, starting at the swell of your breasts before he gently thumbed over the peak of one of your nipples. The sensation had you sucking in a breath loud enough to make your boyfriend pause– only for him to repeat the motion a second time. “You’re rather pent up, aren’t you?”

Despite yourself, you narrowed your eyes in response to his taunting and rolled your head to the side in an attempt to hide the blush you knew spread across your cheeks. “Shut up…”

The hand on your breast flew to your face, gripping your chin and turning your head back so you were forced to meet his penetrating stare. “Come on, be honest,” he goaded you further. “You missed me. Say it.”

“Of course I missed you,” you relented quickly. “I didn’t see you for two months.”

That damnable smirk of his made its grand reappearance, and you hated how much you loved the sight of it. “You managed well enough last summer. Or were you lying through your teeth about handling the distance ‘easily’ on your travels?”

Your fingers twitched in his unrelenting hold, the urge to crane your neck away again taking over, but you were forced to keep your eyes trained on his. “I wasn’t lying then, but I still missed you.”

The way his head tilted to the side curiously reminded you of an animal attempting to get a better look at their prey. “So why the sudden change?”

Chewing your lip thoughtfully for a moment, you decided to voice your inner thoughts regardless of how bashful the idea made you feel. “Because you changed. You’re… bigger.”

Your drab attempt at an explanation didn’t escape Sebastian, but that amusement still glinted in his eyes as he released your chin and trailed his hand down your torso towards your aching center. “Bigger, huh? Care to elaborate?”

Skillful fingers slipped under the cotton of your undergarments, already damp with arousal, and you mewled softly when one of his digits slid through your wet folds before pressing down on your clit with delectable pressure. It nearly derailed your train of thought entirely, but Sebastian helpfully pulled away and snickered when your disappointed sigh slipped through your clenched teeth. “Dammit–”

“You talk,” he fucking purred down at you, looking far too smug for your liking, “and I work. Sound like a fair trade?”

His offer was emphasized by one of his fingers probing at your slick entrance, further enticing you to oblige his request. When you angled your hips to meet the feeling, he pulled back swiftly, quirking a brow at you with a knowing look.

Bastard, you thought.

Fine.

“Y-You’re bigger,” you started to say. “More muscular than before, and I think you grew a couple inches.”

Sebastian’s hand resumed its teasing exploration of your center once more, gingerly inserting his middle finger inside of you as his thumb took to rubbing titillating circles against your clit. The flutter of your eyelids brought a coy smile to the brunet’s face, and his hold on your wrists tightened a fraction as he increased the intensity of his movements. He mockingly said, “You like having a big, strong boyfriend or something? The scandal.”

You barely registered the gibe– not with his thumb slowly working over your clit in time with his finger. It damn near voided all of your brain’s function. All you cared to focus on was the bliss that came with finally having his hands on you. “Yes,” you groaned with blatant need. “I love it– I love it so much– you’re perfect, Sebastian.”

Spurred on by your praise, Sebastian leaned down to mouth wetly at your throat, biting and sucking at whatever smooth skin he found as he pumped his finger in and out of your wet heat steadily. Your head rolled to the side to allow him easier access as he presumably worked a bruise into your flesh, and you relished in the knowledge that he was rebranding you as his after the summer months spent apart. A guttural moan spilled from your mouth as he laved his tongue over the mark and covertly slipped a second finger inside your cunt, crooking the digits up to reach a depth you could never hope to when you were pleasuring yourself.

He took it slow, half for your sake and half for his own, but as Sebastian scissored his fingers and upped his tempo, he could see how you fell apart for him. You struggled to breathe, your every exhale colored with a panted, needy little sound while your thighs twitched and tensed on either side of his arm. When he shifted his fingers up just slightly, your entire body shuddered as your back arched off the bed and you choked on a breathy whine. You were so sensitive, so incredibly vocal, and it was driving him crazy.

Sebastian’s size allowed him to stretch over the majority of your upper body easily, his hold on your arms still firm as he dipped his head lower to lick his way down to your breasts. Ever so gently, he took one of your nipples between his teeth and clamped down with a cautious amount of pressure, increasing the pace of his fingers when he heard your breath hitch in your throat. You could feel his lips stretch into a smile against your chest as your heart rate sped up and your hips involuntarily bucked up into his hand in search of more friction– more of him.

“Merlin–” you writhed atop the sheets as that familiar ache took root in your gut, your finish approaching dangerously fast as Sebastian pressed the palm of his hand against your clit and somehow managed to pump his digits deeper inside of you. “Fuck, fuck!”

He pulled away from your torso to watch you with rapt interest, a flicker of something primal flashing in his brown eyes as he observed your features pinching together with obvious focus as you chased the euphoria he bestowed upon you. “You’re close, aren’t you? I can feel it… I never thought just my hands could do it for you like this, sweetheart. Consider me pleasantly surprised.”

His words meant nothing to you– not right now. Your climax was so close, so painfully close that all you cared to focus on was the steady rhythm of Sebastian’s fingers and his strength holding your wrists down to the bed. Brainlessly, you rolled your head to the side as Sebastian worked you towards the edge, only to blink blearily up at him when he released your wrists to grab the underside of your jaw and force your eyes back on him.

“Look at me while you come on my fingers. I want to see every second of it.”

Who were you to say no?

Your release was akin to a tidal wave– crashing over you violently and stealing your breath as you tried your hardest to keep your eyes open and glued to Sebastian. Mouth falling open around an airy moan, your boyfriend continued to finger-fuck you through your orgasm as he captured your lips in a desperate, lethal kiss. “That’s it,” he groaned into your parted lips. “Good girl.”

The brunet had the good grace to slide his fingers out slowly while he pulled away, laughing softly at the slight jolt your body gave when his palm grazed over your bundle of nerves once more. Dazed and twitching beneath him, you didn’t notice he’d brought his hand to his mouth until it was inches from your face, and the stars clouding your vision cleared just in time to watch him take the two fingers that had previously been inside of you between his lips.

“I– what are you doing?” Your incredulous tone didn’t deter Sebastian in the slightest, and he smirked around his fingers before pulling them out of his mouth with an audible wet sound.

“Tasting you,” he said casually, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. Then with a wink he added, “You’re very sweet.” Nearly all the blood in your body rushed to your cheeks in that instant, warming your face as your mouth fell open in silent shock. It was balmy– completely and utterly bewildering. Yet you couldn’t help but find the brazen move equally… arousing.

You’d officially lost your mind.

In a flash, he lowered his hand closer to your own open mouth, shoving the fingers past your lips and grinning when you squealed with indignant surprise. There was nowhere for you to go– nowhere for you to turn your head to escape the taste of yourself on his digits– and so you were left with no choice but to allow Sebastian to run his fingers along your tongue. The added knowledge that you found his hands so alluring only made the whole spectacle more intimate, and before you could stop yourself, you found yourself sucking shamelessly at his skin, working your tongue over his knuckles as you stared up at him with unrestrained desire.

“Gods,” he muttered, swallowing thickly before pulling his fingers free from your mouth. His voice was shaky, and you dimly registered that your eager submission had gotten to him.

You licked the remnants of yourself from your lips as Sebastian shuffled back to the edge of the bed, standing straight to hastily undo his trousers and shove the material down his long, toned legs. Numbly, you followed suit, sitting up shakily to shrug off your now wrinkled blouse and toss it aside to join the growing pile of clothing at your boyfriend’s feet.

Nude as the day he was born, Sebastian confidently stared down at you and took in the full picture of you before him with an animalistic hunger shining in his eyes. His chestnut hair was unruly and curled wildly in every direction, the breaths he hurriedly sucked down causing his shapely chest to rise and fall in a way that dragged your attention to his strong, capable body. You drank in the sight of his tan, freckled skin, your wide eyes roving lower and lower until they landed on his hard cock arching proudly against his taut stomach.

Maybe you were imagining things, but you could have sworn that was bigger too.

When your eyes jumped back to Sebastian’s, you were positive he knew exactly what you’d been thinking, if his wolfish grin was anything to go by. “See something you like?”

“Please fuck me,” you groaned, too turned on by the sight of him alone to be embarassed about how desperate you sounded.

Sebastian effortlessly crawled back onto the bed and settled over you, pulling you into another intoxicating kiss as he slipped between your spread thighs and rolled his hips, grinding his achingly hard cock against your slit with a dizzying sort of precision. You couldn’t help but moan into the kiss, your eyes squeezing closed before you tilted your head back and arched up against him. “F-Fuck, you’re so hard,” you gasped, loosely hooking your legs around Sebastian’s hips.

Groaning his agreement, Sebastian nipped at the side of your jaw and murmured, “You have no idea… want you bad.” He nuzzled your ear for a moment, humming at the way you shivered under him, then mouthed his way down your throat with hot, wet kisses that pulled a slew of tiny noises out of you as he rocked his hips again.

Before you could wrap your arms around his shoulders like you’d planned, Sebastian was sitting back on his heels to manhandle you exactly where he wanted you. Those big hands of his grabbed you by your waist, hauling you down the bed like you weighed nothing so your rear was balanced over the tops of his knees and he was perfectly aligned with your slick entrance. The way he easily moved you around spoke volumes of the physical labor he’d done over the summer, slaving away the muggle way to restore his Uncle’s former home for the two of you to use after graduation. Every stone moved, every log chopped, and every wheelbarrow trundled was cataloged within the corded muscles that lined his body.

If you weren’t already head over heels for the man, you were certain you would be deemed grossly smitten.

Sebastian’s hands slid from your waist to your thighs to better hold you in place as he bumped the tip of his cock against you, and your breath stuttered in your chest at the first steady roll of his hips, the head sliding home easily into your slick, tight, and warm heat. Your name fell from your lover’s lips in the form of a ragged moan, fingers digging into your legs as he rocked his hips slowly, feeling for any tension or resistance. Everything he’d done to soothe you, however, had paid off, and he found that once he pressed in more firmly, you took him perfectly, letting him slide deeper with every short thrust.

He really had gotten bigger.

“I could tell you thought so,” Sebastian said around a laugh. Had you said that out loud? “Your eyes just about bugged out of your head when you looked earlier.”

Embarrassed for the nth time in the last week, you looked away from him and quietly grumbled under your breath, “Whatever… don’t let it get to your head. Your ego is big enough as it is.”

“It’s not the only thing that’s big apparently,” he countered easily. As though to punctuate the statement, Sebastian pulled his hips back once more before spearing into you with brutal efficiency, and the gasp that ripped from your throat then was followed by a breathless sound that bordered on a wail.

It was so thick– Sebastian’s cock– and it filled you up and spread you open so incredibly, but it was the angle that was really rendering you incapable of thought. With your hips elevated, the blunt head brushed past your sweet spot with every dragging thrust, re-lighting that fire in your blood that threatened to set you ablaze. You wanted more, but you were almost afraid of how good it would feel, how high it would take you. Sebastian was all around you, with his hands gripping your thighs, deep inside you, stirring you up and coaxing brainless whimpers out of you, not bothering to hold back for your sake– and thank the gods for that.

A meek keening sound arose from your throat as you gasped Sebastian’s name, and the brunet responded with a rough growl, stroking your thighs tenderly before abandoning one of them to place his hand on the lower part of your stomach. He pressed down with his fingers splayed against your skin, thrusting into you deeper so you could really feel every long, delectable inch of him within you, and the added pressure made your head spin and your walls clamp down on him.

“Oh, fuck–” you moaned wantonly, arching your spine as much as you were able in a bid to feel as much as possible. Sebastian responded by moving his grip on your thigh to your waist, fucking into you harder until all you were capable of doing was whining for more with your eyes unfocused. Rational thought was gone– you were losing your mind with the way Sebastian was pounding into you now, that fire spreading through you– but you had quickly stopped being afraid of the feeling. The hotter you got, the more Sebastian’s perfect aim drove you higher until you were arching and pleading, noisy and half-coherent as overwhelmed tears filled your eyes.

When you finally caught hold of words beyond brainless, wavering cries, you threw your head back with a gasping whine to loudly beg, “Sebastian, please, please–”

“F-Fuck,” he stuttered out, moaning desperately into the empty air before he rasped, “You like it that much, darling? Want more?”

“Yes!” You clawed mindlessly at the hand he had clamped against your waist, urging him to use the damn thing in the way you had dreamt of every night since returning to school. Ever the fast learner, Sebastian obliged you mercifully and let go of your waist, leaving you to hook your legs around his hips as he brought his hands to your throat to pull you onto his cock harder and faster, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room and muddling your brain further.

“You look so perfect with my hands around your neck, darling.” Sebastian growled out in-between bestial grunts. “So pretty, so eager. Is it good?”

He wasn’t choking the life out of you by any means, but the pressure he applied on either side of your neck added a sort of high that left your tongue useless in your mouth. You could hardly formulate words, much less a full sentence, but you still managed to stammer out a raspy, “Y-Yes, fuck–”

You were fairly certain you were drooling all over yourself, but you couldn’t find the willpower to care. There were too many sensations to keep track of, and through the haze of it all, your climax came into sight. Your hand came to grasp at one of the ones Sebastian had secured around your throat while the other fisted in the sheets, squeezing as hard as you could as you rutted back against his hips the best you could. It wasn’t doing much as far as you were concerned, but Sebastian evidently appreciated your attempt as he groaned roughly, letting his head hang between his shoulders as he began pumping his hips faster.

“Shit– I’m close, I’m so close–”

Beyond your moans of encouragement, there wasn’t much else you could say. Sebastian took your motivating sounds in stride though, keeping one hand clamped around your neck securely as the other flew down to your clit, instantaneously rubbing urgent little circles around the nub in a bid to take you with him over the edge. Your voice was already raspy but so much louder and needier than Sebastian’s short moans of your name, and his half-baked praises and pleas intermingled with the distant banging of the headboard against the stone wall. Even through all that– through the spiking volume of your pleasure and the blinding need devouring you both– all Sebastian saw was you, and all you saw was ecstasy.

When you finally came you wailed, long and loud as your hands clung to the sheets beneath you and Sebastian’s thick wrist alike, the latter of which knew better than to stop now. Your muscles tensed dangerously tight, your toes curling hard and your nails scraping fresh tracks down Sebastian’s forearm hard enough to leave welts, and your boyfriend was already holding on by a thread by the time your cunt clamped down tight around him. It was almost too hard to move, but there was just enough give that your climax peaked impossibly further and Sebastian fell right after you, crying your name over and over with the rough, faltering tempo of his hips.

The two of you were hardly aware of anything as you both slowed down and came off of that high, but you eventually blinked the fog from your mind and came to realize Sebastian had long since abandoned his hold on your throat in favor of laying across your prone form, lightly peppering kisses against your collarbone as he sucked down breaths to catch his breath. The stinging twitch of uncoiling muscles and the swelling bites and scratches only served to bring you both back to reality in slow, leisurely time with one another, and at the end of it all it was Sebastian who found his voice first, murmuring yet another snide comment into the crook of your shoulder.

“Should I start wearing gloves now?”

Still breathless and spent from the last hour– hell, the entirety of the last week– your delirious laughter was uncontrollable as you realized and quickly accepted that the truth was now out there, and your boyfriend was more than ready to take full advantage of that. “I don’t think gloves will help, honestly.”

The remainder of the school year would end up being a testament to just how true that claim actually was, you guessed. Your boyfriend, on the other hand, would most certainly enjoy every second of it.

#sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow x female!reader #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow smut #sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fanfic #hogwarts legacy oneshot #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #sebastian sallow x mc #kicking down the doors of 2024 with the longest oneshot ever to grace my google doc #dropping this depravity here and exiting stage left #my writing

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mattyriddlesbitch · 6 months ago

Note

Bare with me this is my first request. Imagine reader (Slytherin if you don't mind) is walking and bumps into the boys they try to pick on her but can't and ends up with her making a joke about Mattheo having a small penis, and he loves that she's able to shut him up even tho it's childish. Long story short he's like "It's not even small" and she's like "Prove it" and so hate sex.

Drink water, take a nap and overall take care ilysm! ✨

Thank you so much! I have been taking care of myself, I hope you all are too!

Brat

Mattheo Riddle x F!Reader

Warnings: cussing, oral(male receiving), unprotected sex, hate sex, brat taming lol

18+ Minors DNI!

“So you wanna repeat what you said earlier? What was it? ‘Tiny, limp-dick ass’?” Mattheo said as he had your hair in a makeshift ponytail, fucking into your mouth. You were in the prefect's bathroom, your knees digging into the hard tile as you held onto his thighs. “Won't repeat it now, slut?” He smiled down at you, and you moaned around his dick, trying to respond back. He pulled you off his cock. “What was that, princess?”

“You are such a dick. Also a pervert, getting off on me talking shit.” You said, wiping the spit off from your mouth.

“You got it all wrong, angel.” He said before pushing your mouth back onto his cock. “I like putting brats in their place. Since you wanna use your mouth to insult me, I'm putting it to better use.” You tried replying, but gagged on his cock instead. He pulled you off again to let you speak.

“Bite me.”

“Gladly.” He smiled and pulled you up to stand, not even hesitating before biting your neck.

“I fucking hate you.” You winced at the harsh bite, which he soothed with a swipe of his tongue.

“Do you, now? If I checked, your pussy wouldn't be all wet then?” He said before biting your neck again.

“Shut the fuck up.” You closed your eyes, your breath getting heavier.

“All bark, no bite, love.” He teased and turned you around, pushing your front onto the sink.

“You're lucky I didn't bite your dick.” You rolled your eyes.

“I knew you wouldn't. You want me to fuck you. Can't do that if you bite my dick, huh?” He said as he pulled down your panties. “I knew it. Fuck. You're all wet for me.” He dragged a finger through your folds.

“Can you shut up and fuck me already?” You whined, hips jolting at his touch.

“Can you quit whining?” He retorted but did start pushing into you. “Fucking tight, shit, princess.” He moaned with you. He didn't wait for you to adjust, thrusting in and out of you as you whimpered from the mix of pain and pleasure. “Can you fucking relax? You're squeezing me, you fucking slut.”

“You didn't prep me, dickwad.” You hissed.

“Always so bratty. Can't you just be grateful for what I give you?” He grabbed your hair to look in the mirror at him. “Just be good for once.”

“If it bothers you that much, I'll keep being a brat.” You said, closing your eyes so you don't look at him.

“If that's how you wanna play it.” He let go of your hair and wrapped his hand around your throat, squeezing the sides. “Might take a few sessions, but I'll break you.”

It was hard to reply with him choking you. Your eyes were rolling back as you felt lightheaded from it, only making the pleasure from him fucking you more intense.

“See, isn't that much better than fighting me? Just relax and cum on my cock, princess.” He said, bringing his free hand to your clit.

“Fuck.” You choked out, body trembling as your orgasm neared.

“Merlin, fuck, you're clenching me again. You're so close, angel. Just let go. Need to feel you cum.” He moaned, his thrusts losing its tempo as his own orgasm was close. “Cum on my cock like a good slut, come on.”

Your orgasm hit you and your legs nearly gave out as you cried out. He fucked you through it before pulling out and cumming on your ass and skirt.

“See, you can be a good girl for me?” He said, pressing a kiss to your hair before pulling your panties up.

Taglist:

@jeannie-beannie @yourenogoodforme @mixvchelle @helendeath @evaslytherpuff

@soaked4abby @hpnsfwaddict @mayamonroem @motherfing-stargirl @brittney-121

@dracoslovergirl @littlemadamred @mattheoriddlesbitch @acornacreacure @opheliamalfoy236

Let me know if you wanna be added!

#slytherin boys #slytherin boys x reader #slytherin boys smut #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle

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slytherinboysappreciation · 5 months ago

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Double penetration with the Riddles??? 🤨 Male reader please 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

Double Trouble - T. R. & M. R. x male!Reader

A/N: 😈 I hope you enjoy. It’s unedited with no use of Y/N. Also, please take the warnings seriously 🫶 I think I tagged everything but let me know if I missed something!

THERE IS NO SHIPPING BETWEEN TOM AND MATTHEO IN THIS!!!!

Fic is very 18+ so ABSOLUTELY NO MINORS!!!!

CW: Arguing; sexual content; explicit sexual content; almost fighting; Reader is referred to as a fucktoy; bickering; pet names; dom/sub dynamics, I think; exhibitionism, I think; praise; degradation; Reader is referred to as a slut; doggy style; spanking; Reader is a tiny bit of a brat; actual lube is used in this one; anal sex; anal fingering; begging; anal penetration; more spanking; double penetration, hehe; Reader blacks out from his orgasm; sorry for the ending; this takes place after Hogwarts so everyone involved is of age!!!!

2539 words

To say you were nervous was an understatement.

You were lying on Tom’s bed in his apartment bedroom, listening to him and Mattheo argue.

It wasn’t a particularly unusual exchange, but it was making you nervous. Tom usually took his frustration out on you sexually after a fight with his brother. But Mattheo’s staying with the two of you for Christmas break.

There is no escape from him.

As their argument grows more heated, you groan and begin to get up. Maybe talking a walk will bring about the end of their argument.

“No, you stay there,” Tom orders, his tone demanding obedience.

You freeze immediately, eyes going wide.

Both brothers turn to you, gazes equally as intense. It ignites something within you. Something hot that makes your cock twitch in your pants.

You bite the inside of your cheek to try and make it go away. No such luck.

Thankfully, neither boy seems to notice.

“You’re smart,” Mattheo says critically, crossing his arms. “You help us decide.”

“He’s more than smart,” Tom says sharply. You can see the fight in his eyes, the way he’s ready to snap out a defense for you.

“Alright. I’ll help.” You sit back on your hands, gesturing for them to explain. “What’s the fight about this time?”

“We weren’t fighting—“

“Mattheo thinks he’s better in bed than me—“

“We’re— That’s not what I said, you dick!”

“Oh, really? Why don’t you enlighten us as to what you said, then?”

“Guys…” You rub the bridge of your nose.

“I said I had a bigger dick than you!”

“Oh, right, because that’s so much better.”

“Hey guys…!” You stare at them.

“It is! You know I’m right! Remember that guy—“

“Yeah, I remember! Now shut up!”

Mattheo’s fist is halfway drawn back and Tom’s gripping his collar when you finally shout, “Hey!”

They stop and turn to you. Identical scowls on their faces. “What?”

You falter for a moment, unsure what to do now that you have their attention. “Calm down. There’s gotta be a better solution to this than fighting.”

They glare at you. The same angry look on both of their faces.

It’s hot. And you’re painfully aware of the way your pants feel tight.

Tom’s gaze drops for a moment, and you know you’re fucked.

“You know,” he drawls, a slow smirk spreading across his lips. “I’ve thought of an idea.”

Mattheo’s gaze turns to him. “What?”

“If you’re so sure you’re better than me,” Tom continues, cocky gaze fixed on yours. “Then why don’t we test it out. See who really fucks better.”

You shiver, cock twitching in your pants. He’s not saying… He doesn’t mean…

Mattheo glances between you two, brow furrowed. “You mean…”

“Just this once.” Tom glances at his brother. “Are you in?”

Mattheo cocks his head, his gaze turning into something cunning. “I thought you didn’t share.”

Tom’s eyes narrow. “Are you in or not?”

“Fine.” Mattheo rolls his eyes and glances at you. He eyes you like a piece of meat, clearly interested in the plan.

Your cock twitches again at his look, making the tiniest whimper catch in your throat. Merlin, do you want them to fuck you.

Tom starts talking again. “Now for the real question. Which of us goes first?”

“Me,” Mattheo says confidently. “It should be me.”

Tom gives him a cold side eye. “Oh? And why is that, pray tell?”

“He’s your fucktoy. You get to have him whenever you want. ‘Sides,” Mattheo smirks. “You’d get too jealous if I went second.”

“Hmph.” Tom scoffs softly. “Very well. I suppose I’ll allow you to have a go first.”

“Oh, wow. ‘Allow me’. Like he can’t choose if I get to fuck him or not.”

Tom bristles. “Don’t get too full of yourself. This is a one time thing only, Mattheo.”

Mattheo rolls his eyes and turns to you. “Ready, sweetheart?”

He says it so mockingly, but you nod so eagerly. You can’t help it; you’ve always been weak to Tom’s meanness. From Mattheo, it has practically the same effect.

Still, you can’t help but get a little shy when you ask, “You want me to undress for you, um…” You hesitate. You call Tom ‘sir’, but that’s his thing.

“Matty.” Mattheo smirks at you a little. “Just call me Matty.”

You relax a bit. “Okay. Do you want me to undress, Matty?”

“Yeah.” His smirk grows. “Go right ahead, handsome.”

You flush a little, and Tom scowls. He crosses his arms tightly, watching you intently. It only makes your skin burn hotter, a shiver working up your spine.

You undress quickly, and sit back on the bed. Tom’s long since fucked any shame out of you, but with Mattheo gazing at you so hungrily, it’s hard not to be a little embarrassed.

“Look at you,” Mattheo murmurs, reaching out to rest a hand on your thigh. “So eager. Are you always this eager for my brother?”

You nod, swallowing down a moan at his tone. Mattheo’s smirk turns cruel. “Little slut.”

You shudder, a whine spilling from your lips. You can’t help it; you love being degraded like this.

Mattheo gestures for you to roll over and you do. You settle on your knees, trembling with excitement.

“Such an obedient toy,” Mattheo chuckles, trailing his fingers over your ass. “I’m almost jealous.”

“Just get to fucking him already,” Tom snaps.

“Why?” Mattheo sneers. “Scared I’ll do a better job at pleasuring him than you?”

“You little—“

“Or maybe you’re just jealous he’s so excited for me?”

You groan and bury your face in your pillow. Your cock is leaking, dripping pearly beads of precum onto the mattress. And they’re too busy fighting to care.

“Please!” You beg, interrupting them. “Just fuck me already!”

Dead silence.

You don’t even have to look to know you’ve fucked up.

A hand comes down sharply on your ass and you yelp, jolting forward. Pleasure and pain rocket through you, making your brain go fuzzy. “Fuck! I’m sorry!”

“You should be!” Tom hisses.

Mattheo scoffs and grips your ass tightly, fingers digging into your skin. “And to think I was gonna be nice to you.”

You just moan into the pillows.

Mattheo smacks your ass again, harder this time. “Little slut. You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Yes!” You gasp out. “Fuck, yes!”

“Dumb little slut. Can’t think of anything beyond getting fucked, can you?” Mattheo sneers.

You just squirm and wiggle your ass, trying to provoke him into giving you something—anything at all.

He spanks you again, a low growl in his throat. “That’s enough. Act up once more, and you’ll see what it’s like to be punished by me.”

Oh, how you ache to see what that punishment entails. Every fiber of your being wants to act out against him, just to see what he does.

A hand suddenly grips the back of your neck, tight enough to hurt. “Don’t you even fucking dare.”

Tom. And he sounds pissed. As if he could read your very thoughts. Which, you were reminded, he could. Being a Legimens and all that.

Your body calms. You relax a little, taking a deep shaky breath. The fight leaves your body, making you go all soft and pliant under Mattheo’s hands.

“Good boy.” Tom lets go of you and steps back again. “Remember your place.”

You melt into the pillows, focusing on relaxing and staying calm. Something cold and wet drips against your asshole, pulling your attention. It’s lube, silky against your tender skin.

Mattheo’s fingers press against your asshole, making you moan. You force yourself to stay loose and relaxed as he slowly works his fingers into your sensitive hole.

“Greedy little bastard,” he mutters. “Taking me so well. Just like a slut.”

You can’t stop the whimpers and moans that spill from your lips. You arch as Mattheo’s fingers brush against a spot inside you that makes your head spin and your vision fuzz. “Fuck! Right there!”

He chuckles a little and prods the spot again. “Right here?”

“Yes, yes, yes!” You squirm and gasp as he massages the area, making stars burst in your vision. “Fuck!”

“Mattheo.” Tom’s voice is harsh and annoyed. “You’re here to fuck him, not pleasure him.”

Mattheo just snickers softly and removes his fingers from your ass. You whine at the loss, trying your best not to grind against the bed underneath you. You just need something—anything at all.

More cold lube is dribbled onto your ass and Mattheo coats his dick in it. The action makes you moan. He’s big. Bigger than Tom even.

Anticipation builds as Mattheo positions his cock, pressing the tip against your asshole. “You ready, handsome?”

“Just fuck him already!” Tom snaps. “He can take it. He loves this sort of stuff.”

It’s not a lie, and you whimper into the pillows at his harsh words. Part of you appreciates Mattheo’s care, his softer actions. An even bigger part of you just wants to be fucked dumb by him.

You press back against Mattheo, sneakily trying to slip the tip of his cock inside you while he’s busy arguing with Tom.

No such luck.

A hand comes down on your ass again, smacking you harshly. “What did I say about knowing your place?”

It’s Tom this time. You yelp and whimper, burying your face in the pillows at the welcome sting.

“Please, sir!” You beg. “Please, I need it so bad!”

“Oh, you need it, huh?” Mattheo’s voice makes you want to worship at his feet; it’s so sinfully cruel, so unbearably attractive. “Where was all this begging just a moment ago?”

You want to sob. You want to cry. You want to scream, to beg for him to please stop teasing you! But you don’t. You know better than that.

“Please, Matty,” you whimper. “Please fuck me! I’ll be so good! I’ll make you feel so good, just please please fuck me!”

With a smug grunt, Mattheo pushes his dick into your ass. “Good boy.”

You moan. Burying your face in your pillows and gripping the sheets underneath you. He feels amazing.

Big and thick and perfect.

You’ve never felt so full in your life. And he hasn’t even bottomed out.

Mattheo starts to thrust and you wail into the pillows. He’s hitting that spot inside you so perfectly. Practically ramming it with his cock, making your head spin with pleasure.

You can’t even think. Can’t do anything but squirm underneath him, babbling cries of “Yes! Yes! Matty!”

You don’t know how long he fucks you; it feels like forever and only a moment. All you can focus on is the growing twists of pleasure in your abdomen and the delicious ache that fills you every time he pounds into you.

Vaguely, you’re aware of harsh words. Of a cool hand on your ass. And then Mattheo’s cock is gone.

You sob at the loss. Actual tears filling your eyes. You need to be filled. Need to be used until you cum.

“Please!” You sob. “Please! I need more!”

“Oh, shut up. You’ll get more when I give it to you.” Tom’s voice.

A new cock pushes into your ass and you whine. It’s good. It feels good. But it’s not enough.

You endure it as long as you can, whining and moaning as Tom fucks you. But eventually you break.

“Please, please, sir! I need more! I need more!”

Tom stills. You cry into your pillows, pressing back against him. You need more, not less.

But he pulls out.

You can hear soft murmurs. Angry hisses. Then cool silence.

You can feel their gazes on you. Feel their burning stares.

After what feels like an eternity, a warm hand grips your ass. Icy cruel words spit out. “Fucking slut. Can’t be sated with just one brother, can you?”

You squirm with anticipation, biting the pillow under you to keep from moaning. You don’t know what they’re planning. But it’s going to be good. And it’s going to be mean.

A hand smacks the meat of your ass, cool and punishing. “He asked you a question.”

“No,” you gasp out. “I need more!”

“Little slut needs us both, I think.” Mattheo’s tone is calculating. Cold. “If he needs more so badly, I think we can give that to him.”

A thrill shoots up your spine. Both? At the same time?

Your brain practically goes to mush at the thought.

“Yes!” You babble out. “I need you both!”

Mattheo chuckles darkly. “What did I tell you, Tom? You’ve got yourself a greedy little fucktoy here.”

“I know what I have,” Tom replies, but his voice lacks its usual bite. “Now move over.”

Your body sings with excitement and anticipation. You need them so badly. Just the thought makes you moan, unable to stop from grinding a little against the sheets.

Dual hands come down on your ass, one on either side. Cold and warm, both making you yelp and jerk at the sudden sting. “Don’t you fucking dare!”

“I’m sorry!” You whimper. “I just need—“

“We know what you need.”

More lube is slathered over your asshole, cool fingers prepping you for what lies ahead.

You can barely wait, panting and whining into your pillows.

Finally, finally, their tips press against your asshole. You instantly surge back, desperate to take them both. This time, they let you.

Hands grip your waist, steadying you and holding you in place.

There’s a moment of calm.

And then they push in.

You melt. You moan. You sob. You writhe in pleasure.

You’re so fucking full.

And when they thrust into you? Seeing stars doesn’t nearly describe it well enough. It’s pure bliss. Pure euphoric pleasure.

The sounds you make are barely human. Wails and sobs and moans. Echoing the growls and groans and hisses of pleasure coming from the brothers.

You could die a happy man being fucked like this. The world could end and you would not give a damn.

Your orgasm hits you like a freight train, slamming into you with so much force you black out. Utterly and completely overwhelmed by pleasure.

When you come to, the boys are bickering. Quietly arguing yet again.

This time, though, the sound is welcome. You bask in it, relishing the way their voices wash over you.

You’re on your back now. Your ass feels full, cum slowly leaking out of you.

You let out a soft moan, cluing them into the fact you’re awake. The arguing stops.

Cool fingers press against your forehead. “Hello, darling.” Tom’s voice. “You had quite the moment there, didn’t you?”

“Mmm~” You nuzzle into his hand, your tongue heavy and thick in your mouth. Speaking feels like too much of an effort so you just lazily grin.

A soft chuckle comes from your other side. “I told you he’d be fine.”

Heavy silence. Tom clearly holds himself back from arguing more. “I… suppose you were right.”

You open your eyes, surprised. The admission feels… like some sort of victory between the two. Like, a moment of possible reconciliation.

For a moment, the three of you rest in it.

Then Mattheo breaks the silence. “So, which of us fucked better, in the end?”

Tom hits him with a pillow.

#tom riddle #mattheo riddle #male reader #divider by cafekitsune #tom riddle x male reader #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x you #tom riddle smut #mattheo riddle x male reader #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle smut #tw arguing

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delusionalwritingsofagay · 5 months ago

Text

Press Here for Rules

Sir Leon

Head canons

Servant boy

Fics

Sir Gwaine

Head canons

Servant boy

Fics

#x male reader #merlin x reader #bbc merlin #merlin x male reader #merlin emrys #gwaine #xmale !reader #sir leon x male reader #sir leon #sir gwaine

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fangisms · 1 year ago

Note

If you take requests can you write a fic about draco wanting the reader's attention all day but someone or something something always getting in the way ? Bonus if he gets a lil moody about it too

(Feel free to ignore if a bother tho ♡) :)

bellyaching

A/N: you GUYS i cranked this out in an afternoon, do u understand im OBSESSED with moody draco

Pairings: Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader

Summary: Draco is desperate for your attention, and desperate times call for desperate Slytherins. 1.1k words

Warnings: fluff, very very minor boy angst, slytherin behavior, moody/dramatic draco, established relationship

“Babe.”

It’s hushed, Draco doesn’t want to catch Flitwick’s attention while trying to grab yours. But it’s not easy when you’re seated in the row in front of him, and he’s desperately leaning over his workspace to reach you.

“Baby,” he mumbles, and you glance over your shoulder with a start. Then, smiling, you wave, and he’s soothed for just a moment. You turn back around and he’s practically pouting. He taps your shoulder with the paper rose he had so painstakingly folded for you. He’s got the paper cuts to prove it.

Draco taps your shoulder with the stem. You turn your head and hold one finger to your lips. You shushed him. You shushed him. He settles back in his seat, arms folded over his chest, wilted paper rose forgotten on his desk.

…

After class, you’re walking beside him, arm happily tucked within his as he escorts you to your Advanced Mythology lesson. Though he’s feeling a little deflated, having you near makes him feel better. And realizing that you’ve got a few minutes to spare before next class, he pulls you to the side of the hall, abandoning his friends to walk ahead.

Tucked beneath one of the awnings, he holds your books beneath his arm and pulls you closer.

“Draco!” you yelp, resisting his onslaught of hurried kisses, “We have class, remember? It’s that thing we are required to attend five days a week? We learn a lot of subjects? Sometimes they give us lunch hour—?”

“We’ll have plenty of time to get to class,” he huffs, pecking your bottom lip and the apple of your cheek.

“Draco, you’ve been late to nearly all of your classes because of—”

“Not because of you. I am solely responsible for my tardiness—ow!” You pinch his side and giggle when he slumps into your shoulder—“‘S not fair you’re so kissable.”

You roll your eyes and press your lips to the side of his sad face, “fine. You can have one kiss. Make it quick.”

At that, Draco perks up. You playfully pucker your lips, and as he leans in—You’ve got to be kidding.

“There you are! Come on, we’ve only got five minutes to get to class, and I’d rather not be forced to polish anymore silver!” Pansy grabs you by the crook of your elbow, dragging you out into hall. You wave at Draco and quickly catch up with Pansy.

For Merlin’s sake, is he not allowed one moment alone with his beloved.

…

The rest of the day goes just as smooth. As in not smooth at all. As in Draco’s day has been a complete shit show, and you’ve been otherwise occupied for just about every second of it.

First, he face plants during a scrimmage. Then, you tell him you’re using the afternoon to study with the girls in the library. You said he’s welcome to join but he knows that means he would be the only male attending and, therefore, it would be excruciatingly awkward.

Suffice to say, he’s spent the last few hours sulking and moaning to himself. Enzo thinks it’s hilarious.

When you finally sit next to him at dinner, he’s still stewing in his anger. Yes, it’s gotten to anger.

“Good evening, dear Draco!” you coo. And he’s clearly not having it, picking away at his food and only acknowledging you with a curt huff. You look to Theodore in shock, eyes wide when he shrugs.

“He’s been like this all day,” Mattheo says, “Think you could be a dear and fix him for us?”

You look over at Draco, who’s taken to scowling at the two boys. So you brush his hair out of his face and flatten his hood against his back.

“What’s wrong? I feel like I haven’t seen you all day?” you say, tilting your head. He huffs.

“I think you mean you’ve been ignoring me all day.”

“Draco!” you say, surprised by his sudden volume and honestly amused by his apparent lack of awareness. “What’s with the attitude?” He doesn’t respond, so you cross your arms over your chest. At this point, you’ve got the entire Great Hall’s attention. And winner for most dramatic couple goes to… “Come on, Draco, don’t just sit there and sulk, talk to me!”

“Oh, now you want to talk? Are you sure? Maybe you should go and study with your friends or read a book or do anything other than ask me how my day has been,” he whines. Enzo can’t help but snicker.

Your jaw drops, and you mumble, "Lower your voice, drama queen, I’m—"

“No, I’ve been trying to spend time with you all day, and you just shrug me off and find something better to do! What if I wanted to walk you to class and study with you?”

“We can still study together this week.”

“That’s not the point, babe. I wanted to spend time with you today,” he says, defeated and back to prodding at his meal tirelessly.

You sigh.

“I’m sorry, Draco. I had no idea”—you list his hand from the edge of the table and fit your fingers gently between his own—“I didn’t mean to starve you of attention. How careless of me.”

Draco presses his thumb against your hand, and he just barely turns his head to look at you.

“You’re teasing me,” he huffs. You look down at your hands and smile.

“A little,” you say, “But I am sorry. I should have listened to you. And asked you about your day. How was it by the way?”

“Ate complete shit out on the pitch. Found out I’m too needy for my girlfriend. Other than that, just peachy.”

“Draco,” you whine, pouting and cupping his face. “I’m sorry. And you’re not too needy for me, I’m just a bit daft.”

He shrugs, trying not to smile so wide and failing. Just happy to have you near him again.

“Oh, I have something for you”—he reaches into his pocket and pulls out the floppy rose—“Made it in charms.”

You hold its fragile, wrinkled frame in your cupped hands, frowning at it then at him.

“You made this for me?”

“Yeah. And it says ‘you look pretty’ on the inside, but I think if you try to unfold it, it’ll actually disintegrate,” he says.

You lean in swiftly for a kiss, but pause on the way.

“You two? Look away,” you grumble at Theo and Mattheo, snapping a spell against both of their cheeks. They wince and apologize, and Draco snickers.

He kisses you, tugging at your open robe and smiling against your lips when you reach for his other hand.

masterlist

#draco malfoy #draco x y/n #draco x fem!reader #draco x reader #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x fem!reader #draco #fluff #fanfic #hp universe #x reader #fanfiction #x fem!reader #established relationship

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moonstruckme · 1 year ago

Note

reader making a new friend (who is a male btw) and poly!marauders get jealous and snap at reader, for example saying, ‘go hang out with ____ ‘ and reader understands and reassures them that no such thing as reader leaving marauders would ever happen.

Thanks for requesting!

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 860 words

"There you are, angel!" James gushes as you walk in the door. "We've been waiting, where've you been?"

You stop short, caught offguard by the onslaught of attention as three pairs of eyes pin you in front of the door. Your boyfriends are all sitting at the table, untouched bowls of pasta in front of them and one by your empty chair.

"Sorry," you say slowly, easing your bag off your shoulder and taking off your shoes. "I didn't realize you were waiting. Liam wanted to show me some new music he's found, so I stayed late." You hustle to your chair, and James begins shoveling pasta into his mouth eagerly.

"Oh, Liam asked you to stay," Sirius says drily, stabbing at his bowl with a fork. "Awesome."

You frown. Liam started at your work a couple of months ago, and the two of you had hit it off immediately. He was funny, you liked a lot of the same things, and everyone who you'd introduced him to adored him. Everyone, except your boyfriends. "He didn't ask me to stay, I offered because I wanted to hear it. And I didn't ask you to wait up for me, either."

James swallows. "We tried to call you, and texted you a bunch," he says, and the quiet of his voice is so unlike him that your anxiety instantly heightens.

You whip out your phone, seeing missed calls and texts from each of the boys taking up the entire screen. You'd forgotten to turn the sound back on after your shift.

"I'm sorry," you say, putting it away, and you mean it, but none of the boys really seems to want to look at you.

And as quickly as your shame rose to the surface, indignation comes in to replace it. This is so unlike them. Sirius will occaisionally make a teasing comment about you leaving them for one of your celebrity crushes, but none of your boyfriends are truly the jealous type. You're in a polyamorous relationship, for Merlin's sake. This sort of possessiveness has never been part of the deal.

"What's your problem with him?" You stare them down in turn, and only Sirius is bold enough to meet your heated gaze.

"You're with him when you should be with us!" He snaps. "Just look at tonight—James made dinner, and where were you? With him! So why are you even here now? Let's just cut the bullshit, and you can go hang out with Liam."

James had...James never cooks. That always falls to you or Remus, but tonight...you look at the pasta, which you've yet to take a bite of, and you're hit with a guilt that feels like nausea. It's your favorite. James cooked it for you.

"You have been seeing a lot of him lately," Remus says quietly, and his tone is more controlled than Sirius', but you see the protective hand he sets on James' knee under the table. "And you talk about him all the time. Do you really not see why our minds would go there?"

"I didn't...you guys are serious about this?" Your voice wavers, and that gets them all to look at you. You see the truth of it in their faces, sullen and embarrassed and tense, as if apprehensive of what you'll do next. "I'm so sorry. I never meant to make you feel that way, I—fuck, Jamie, can I give you a hug?"

"Course," he says softly, and rush to him, pressing your face into his dark curls.

"Thank you for dinner, love," you say, feeling like your heart is breaking. "I didn't mean to be late, and I should have remembered to turn my phone back on, I'm so sorry. This is so lovely of you." You turn so you can see the other boys, still cradling James' head in one hand. "Liam and I are just friends, I promise. I didn't know...I thought it was just teasing, the way you talked about him. I didn't mean to let you worry. And I'm sorry if I've been blowing you off lately."

"It hasn't been that often, dove." Remus is the first to warm, looking at you kindly. "Just, could you let us know if you're going to be very late?"

You feel like your chest has hollowed out at the realization of how this has been weighing on them. "Yeah, of course." You release James to return to your seat, leaning over to press a kiss to Sirius' head as you pass him, and he rolls his eyes with a reluctance you suspect is mostly feigned by now. "You really think I could find someone better than you three? You're out of your minds," you quip, taking some pasta onto your fork and inhaling the aroma of the sauce appreciatively. You think you see James sit up a bit straighter with pride. "As if there's anyone who could give me more than what I already have. Honestly, I'm at full capacity, love-wise."

Sirius snorts, finally eating some of his own pasta. "I know. This apartment is hardly large enough for the four of us, where would Liam sleep?"

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suugarbabe · 1 year ago

Text

Saving Grace VI

[Chapter 6]

pairing: mattheo riddle x reader

word count: ~3.3k

warning: angst, fluff, mentions of blood, smut, slight male overstimulation, 18+ content MDNI

Your heart had never felt so full. Laying on the couch in the common room with Mattheo on top of you, his back to your front as he laid between your legs. His head was resting on your stomach, his arms draped over your thighs as your legs intertwined with his. Soft snores are coming from Mattheo as you continue to trace your fingers through his curls, scratching lightly at his scalp.

You looked over his face, noting the different scars. The one along his right side, that went through his eyebrow and over his cheek, had been there before you met him. He told you he got it the summer before he came to Hogwarts, something about a ‘task his father had challenged him with’ went not quite as planned. You lightly traced it with your thumb and he seemed to unconsciously lean into your touch.

He had a couple other small scars from nicks and such in fights, but your favorite one was on the bridge of his nose. It really wasn’t quite a scar yet, but you knew it would turn into one eventually. The scab across it was nearly healed, leaving a thick line of pink skin. The week after you two had made it officially official, Adrian had come to bother you again, this time trying to grab you away from Mattheo in the middle of the hall, yanking on your elbow.

You had seen Mattheo fight plenty of times, but this time it was like all he could see was red and all he wanted was Adrian dead. It took Theo, Draco and Blaise to finally pull them apart. Mattheo came out with just one deep gash on the bridge of his nose, while Adrain was in the hospital wing for a week. Mattheo got a month’s worth of detention, the last of which he served today.

McGonagall made him reorganize the quidditch locker rooms and their respective closets. It took him nearly all day, hence his exhausted and sleeping figure on top of you. But you didn’t mind, you loved when he was able to be more vulnerable and loved that he felt safe enough to be that way with you. He was always displaying himself as so tough and unbreakable, you often had to remind him that he, too, was merely human and would break if he didn’t allow himself time to relax and recover.

You were so engrossed with how pretty your boyfriend looked sleeping that you had zoned out, completely forgetting the other people around you. Pansy’s snapping is what finally broke your trance as you looked over to the couch across from you, giving her an apologetic smile.

“Merlin, you two are so lovesick on each other,” she teased, causing the others to smile along with her.

“Thank Salazar you finally admitted your feelings for him, I swear we were all going mental just waiting on you two to make it actually official,” Theo stated, lighting a spliff and taking a drag.

Your face turned into one of confusion, “What do you mean ‘finally admitted my feelings for him’, what are you on about?”

Draco rolled his eyes, “Cousin told us you guys were faking it.” You went to sit up a little straighter, however Mattheo’s grip on your legs prevented you from moving all together.

“You mean you all knew it was fake? I mean, it’s not anymore, it hasn’t been for a while, but you all knew in the beginning?” You looked at each one of their faces. Enzo looked guilty, Theo and Draco both wore annoying smirks while Blaise and Pansy just had huge smiles.

“To be fair, we didn’t know until after your little show at that first party,” Theo wiggled his eyebrows at you. “Still think about it sometim-” he was cut short thankfully by Blaise throwing a pillow at his head.

Blaise turned to you then, “At first we thought he was just bringing you to the party as his date for the night, you know, like he was known to do. We played games and had a lot of fun. But during your little performance I noticed someone watching the two of you, specifically you, very closely.”

You rolled your eyes, his name coming out like a grumble from your mouth, “You mean Adrian.”

Blaise couldn’t help the slight smirk on his face, “Precisely. So, the next morning, when we were all a little more sober, I decided to ask Mattheo what was going on.”

“At first he tried to deny everything, saying it was just for the night or whatever, but I could see right through it,” Draco pipped in. “Eventually, he told us how Adrian was being a proper creep and you asked for his help -”

Enzo interrupted him, “And Matty boy was talking about you for months before that.” The rest of the group seemed to nod in agreement.

You couldn’t help the look of shock on your face, “W-what are you guys talking about? Months before?”

Blaise smiled at you, “That’s right sweetheart.” You looked back down at Mattheo’s sleeping form, admiration clear on your face. You traced your thumb over the apple of his cheek and he stirred slightly. His long eyelashes fluttered open, his voice thick with sleep as he spoke, “You lot talking ‘bout me?”

A few members of the group laughed softly as you ran your fingers through his hair, “All good things, love.” He grumbled slightly, turning over so he was now laying on his stomach, burying his face into your jumper covered chest.

“You still sitting with me at the match tomorrow?” Pansy asked excitedly, finally able to have another girl with her to watch the boys play.

Eyes still closed, Mattheo answered for you, “Course she is, gonna be wearing my spare jersey.” You smiled at Pansy, nodding your head in agreement.

“And here I thought she’d be wearing mine,” Theo, ever the sass-master, felt the need to interject and quickly regretted it as Mattheo fully opened his eyes. You ran your hand through Mattheo’s curls, essentially soothing him back to a calm state before giving Theo the finger for riling him up.

You wanted to curse whatever founder decided that deep into Scotland was the best location for Hogwarts as you pulled your stocking cap down over your ears. You also wanted to curse whoever decided that quidditch season needed to be in the bloody winter.

“How the bloody hell do you look so cute but I look like a bundled troll?” Pansy poked the stuffing of her jacket near her stomach. You huffed out a laugh, “Oh please, Pans, we both look like stuffed olives. Green is normally so flattering to me, but right now I feel like a pickle.”

You and Pansy continued to make comparisons to different green foods back and forth, not being able to contain your laughter as you found your seats in the stands on the Slytherin side. You weren’t sure if it was your relationship status, or if you and Pansy just got lucky, but you managed two front row spots in your house section, giving you the perfect view of the pitch.

As both teams came out from the locker room tents you joined your fellow students in cheering loudly for green and silver. As members of both teams started doing warm up laps around the pitch, a particularly curly haired captain was hovering right in front of you and you couldn’t contain the grin that spread over your face.

“Well don’t you look adorable this brisk afternoon, princess,” Mattheo was balancing on his Firebolt, leaning over the banister at the front of the stands. You stood from your seat, leaning closer to him, “I know you love pickles so I figured I’d copy the look to keep you motivated.”

Mattheo let out a hearty chuckle, “S’that what you think you look like?” You nodded, biting your bottom lip to suppress the grin threatening to spread across your face. “Well you’re correct as always love,” Mattheo closed the gap between you two, placing a gentle kiss to your lips that ended far sooner than you wanted, “I love pickles and you look delicious.”

You giggled slightly as you pushed his shoulder, effectively pushing him farther from you. With a wink he was soaring back down to the ground, meeting Madam Hooch and the other team's captain. As Madam Hooch released the bludgers and the snitch your adrenaline began to rise. When she tossed the quaffle in the air you were off your seat, keeping a close eye on Mattheo as he maneuvered around the pitch.

Quidditch games were not foreign to you, you’ve even played it a little on holidays with your friends and such, but there was something about watching Mattheo, watching your boyfriend that made it all the more exciting.

It definitely helped that Mattheo was a wiz at the game, gliding through the air, catching the quaffle like he’d been playing the game since he came out of the womb. He was especially cheeky this game, though, throwing a wink or a point your way every time he scored.

The game was so exciting and Mattheo managed to pay you so much attention that you nearly forgot that Adrian was also on the team. That is, you forgot until you saw a bludger head straight for Mattheo. Thankfully he saw it and ducked out of the way.

You followed the path that the bludger came from expecting to see the colors of the opposing team. Your eyes narrowed to slits as you saw Adrian Pucey hovering on his broom, bat in hand and a smirk plastered on his face.

Adrian had arrogance, that was evident when he made eye contact with you and sent you a wink. You're sure your face was displaying a scowl but you held up both hands with middle fingers for good measure.

You weren’t sure the game Adrian was playing at, but you knew Mattheo could finish it. After two more goals you saw Adrian smack another bludger, again heading straight towards your boyfriend, whose back was turned.

You thanked Merlin for Theo as he came bolting towards Mattheo, using his own bat to beat the bludger in a different direction. Mattheo turned around, confused at the commotion as Theo very obviously shouted something at him.

Mattheo then flew over where Draco had been, who was very obviously on the hunt for the snitch. Draco’s eyes were darting around the sky, searching for any glimpse of gold as he took in whatever words Mattheo was speaking.

In an instant Draco was off, the Slytherin section erupting into cheers as he presumably found what he was looking for. Mattheo flew over to Theo, exchanging words. Theo nodded his head in understanding.

The heat of the game was happening but your eyes stayed glued to Mattheo as he flew to the other side of the pitch towards Adrian. Cheers and shouts erupted around you, leading to an understanding that Draco likely caught the snitch and Slytherin had won.

You watched as Mattheo all but dragged Adrian off his broom and to the tunnel leading from the pitch to the locker rooms. You watch as Mattheo’s fist connects with Adrian’s nose. Everyone else is seemingly distracted by the victory but you can't tear your eyes away from watching Mattheo beat the living shit out of Adrian not ten meters from everyone else.

When you see Mattheo walk away from a crouching Adrian on the floor and head to the locker rooms you immediately follow, ignoring Pansy’s calls about where you were going. You rushed down the steps of the stands, taking as large of steps as your legs would allow as you reached the opening of the Slytherin locker room tent.

The locker room was empty as everyone was still on the pitch celebrating. You walk further into the room, hearing a shower running. You shed some of your layers, taking off your hat, scarf, Mattheo’s extra jersey and your thick jumper. You toed off your shoes, pulling your socks along with them.

The steam from the showers curled around your legs as you entered the shower stalls. When you finally reached him you saw the water at his feet run pink against the tile. You were sure the majority, if not all, was Adrians. You step into the stall, not caring that your clothes were essentially going to get soaked. You placed a tentative hand on his back.

He flinched at first, relaxing quickly into your touch. “What did he say, Matty?” He kept his back to you, doing his best to have a jovial tone, “If you wanted to see me naked again, love, you could’ve just asked. No need to storm the showers.”

You rubbed your hands up and down his back, massaging his obviously sore muscles, “Mattheo…”

He let out a long sigh as he placed his hands on the wall in front of him. You saw a few cuts on his knuckles that you made note to heal later. “He deserved it,” his voice strained slightly, like just talking about it was making him angry all over again.

You nodded, though you knew he couldn’t see it, “I’m sure he did, love, but what did he do this time?”

His muscles tensed again, “It was about you. Had your name in his filthy fucking mouth. He..” Mattheo took another deep breath, you rubbed up and down his back, encouraging him to continue, “Well first he tried to knock me out with two fucking bludgers.”

“I saw, right coward move if you ask me,” your rested your hands on Mattheo’s shoulders. He placed one of his on top on yours as he continued, “Then when I dragged him down, asking him what his problem was, he started talking about you. Starting saying foul things about you, saying he could have his way with you if he tried hard enough, that you being with me was all a lie and if he asked he could ‘have you up against a wall and calling his name’ and I just lost it.”

He turned to face you, hands gripping at the wet fabric on your waist, “I’m sorry princess, I just…I couldn’t stop myself.” His head fell to the crook of your neck as your arms wrapped around his shoulders, neither caring about the vulnerable state Mattheo was in in the shower stall.

His posture indicated he felt bad for his actions, or at least feared that you might be mad at him. In reality you were anything but angry. You know it shouldn’t, but seeing Mattheo fight just…spurred you on.

You tugged lightly at his curls and he lifted his head up, soft brown eyes meeting yours. “I love when you fight for me, Mattheo,” you twirled a curl around your finger at the base of his neck. Mattheo’s mouth upturned ever so slightly, “Yeah?”

You could feel his fingers dip under the hem of your shirt as you nodded your head, “Yeah, I know it’s kind of bad, but when I saw you hitting him earlier,” you pushed Mattheo back slightly, gripping the bottom of your soaked shirt and peeling it up and off your body, Mattheo’s eyes shot straight to your green lace bra, “I just wanted to get you alone and show you how much I really,” you popped the button of your jeans, “truly,” you dragged them down your legs and stepped out, “appreciate it.”

He knows he’s seen you bare before, but there was something about you standing in soaking green lace that had his body responding before his mind could control it. Mattheo, for once, was at a loss for words, but you didn’t mind taking control for a moment.

You placed a hand on his strong chest, pushing him back with the slightest pressure as your trailed your hand down his abdomen, feeling the dips and curves of his muscles that quidditch helped sculpt. His eyes held contact with yours as his back hit the tile wall.

Your hands continued to explore his body, thumbs dipping into the v-cut of his hips before grabbing him fully in your hand. You stroked him with light pressure, Mattheo’s eyes rolling as his head leaned back against the wall, “Your teasing me, Princess.” The statement came out in a breathy moan.

“Just trying to show my boyfriend how thankful I am that he’s always there to defend me,” you slowly fell to your knees, dragging your nails down his thighs as you did so, eliciting a soft groan from Mattheo.

You hold your mouth open, sticking out your tongue. You hold him in your mouth for a moment, just feeling the weight of his cock on your tongue.

You’ve only been any type of intimate a few times since officially being called ‘boyfriend/girlfriend’ but you had made a mental note to take your time and enjoy it all in the beginning.

“P-please, Princess. I n-need you to do something,” Mattheo’s begging went straight to your core. You pulled him from your mouth slowly, trailing your tongue along the underside of his cock.

You wrap your hand around him, small strokes up and down as you kitten lick his tip. His hand finds home in your hair, lacing his fingers through the wet strands.

You flatten your hand at the base of his cock, fingers spread across his pubic bone. You do your best to open your throat as you take as much of him as you can in your mouth. Your thumb applying light pressure where his balls meet his base, massaging the soft spot there.

“F-fuck, holy shit, love, do that again,” Mattheo pleads. You hum in acknowledgment, repeating the action. Mattheo’s eyes roll in the back of his head and he knows he’s not going to last long.

When you cup his balls, rolling them lightly in one hand as you deep throat him and hollow out your cheeks, Mattheo can’t even stop himself before he’s shooting hot ropes down your throat.

You continue to bob your head, hollowing your cheeks out again and milking him for all has. Your hand is back at what won’t fit in your mouth.

“Fuck, Princess, no more, I can’t,” he hissed through his teeth, grip tightening in your hair. You feel his thighs twitch under your palm but you don’t stop, wanting to push him just a little bit farther.

His eyes roll to the back of his head and his upper lip quivers, you hum along his shaft, tapping his thigh to silently tell him to look at you.

He stares down at you, eyes glazed over with lustful stupidity and that’s when you slowly drag him from your mouth with an obscene pop. You give one last long lick from base to tip before kissing his hip, grasping on to his forearm to help you stand up.

Mattheo is still spent, leaning against the tile wall with shaky legs, one hand on your hip while the other cups your cheeks.

“You tryna kill me, Princess? Where the fuck did that come from?” He’s breathless as he strokes your cheek lovingly.

You shrug your shoulder slightly as your wrap your arms around his waist, “Just saying thank you.” You batted your eyelashes, doing your best to look innocent.

Mattheo used his thumb to tilt your head up slightly, slotting his lips with yours. It was slow and sweet, his lips wet and heavy against yours. When he pulled away you found yourself lifting to your tip toes trying to chase after him.

He chuckled slightly at your response, thumb tapping playfully at your bottom lip, “Cmon, love. Let’s get dressed before the rest of the lads get in and then we can go back to my dorm and I can,” he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, “return the favor.”

You slapped his chest playfully, “Cheeky offer, but you don’t have to do that. I’m more than happy with what transpired just now.”

Mattheo smiled your favorite dimpled smile as he grabbed a handful of your ass, “Oh, love, but I want to.”

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