#enzo berkshire x female reader | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

distantdarlings · 1 year ago

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HESITATING // t. nott

RATING: R / 3.9K WORDS

Theodore Nott x Fem Reader Insert

+ SUMMARY - *Requested, based on this* After a trip to Hogsmeade, you realize that Theo seems to get an awful lot of attention from girls. To avoid getting hurt, you start to distance yourself from him to rid yourself of your crush. But Theo is not having it. (Smut)

+ WARNINGS - SMUT! No protection - piv, praise kink, slight body worship, biting (one time), fem reader, language, one time skip, dom!Theo (lmk if I missed any)

+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -

more than friends - Isabel LaRosa

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Your eyes found the clock on your bedside table. You were supposed to meet Theo in the Great Hall in ten minutes, yet you stood completely still in your dorm, switching back and forth between two outfits. It was a Saturday, and you didn’t have the usual crutch of your school uniform, hence the inability to decide.

As the year progressed, the temperature dropped outside as well as within the castle. When chills were scattered across your arms in class, your teeth were almost clacking together. At the thought, a small shiver went through you.

You decided on a heavier sweater and jeans, noting that if you were cold in the warmth of your dorm, you’d likely be cold in the stone Great Hall.

You slipped the outfit on, selecting a thick pair of socks and a ratty pair of shoes you’d had since fourth year. It wasn’t the most stunning style, but it was efficient and comfortable. Five minutes to go.

You slipped your wand into your back pocket and headed toward the hallway, slipping the dorm door closed behind you. Theo was likely already there with his group of friends, ones you liked to call friends, as well. The sons of big names around Hogwarts and the wizarding world, in general, though they were just boys to you.

As you arrived at the grand doors of the Great Hall, the boys in question caught your eye and shot excited waves at you. While some of them had a bit more pride than others, they always seemed happy to see you. A smile broke across your face as you walked over to the Slytherin table, claiming the space between Theo and Mattheo.

“Hello there, darling,” Theo purred in your ear when the group went back to their conversation. A twinge of heat flared in your chest. You hid a smile.

“Miss me?” You asked, voice low. He smiled.

“Of course I did.” He threw a playful arm over your shoulder. Though it seemed to be a friendly gesture, it felt like a claim to you. A claim by him placed onto you, alerting all who you belonged to. It made you embarrassingly happy.

“Any plans today, boys?” You asked. The group turned to you.

“Actually, we were thinking of heading down to Hogsmeade for the day,” Mattheo said. “We were going to ask if you wanted to go with us?”

“I’d love to, as long as I’m not forcing myself on the group,” you said, only half-joking.

“Of course not,” said Enzo, a sweet smile on his face. “We love hanging out with you.”

“Yeah?” You teased. Mattheo rolled his eyes.

“You know we like you,” he joked, running a mean hand over your head, tousling your hair. You exclaimed and pushed his hand away, laughing along with the dark boy.

“We definitely do,” Theo laughed, pulling you tighter against him for a moment.

“Well, alright,” You laughed. “Heading there now?”

“Yes!” Enzo clapped his hands together and stood, already headed toward the door. The rest of you laughed and made to follow him.

“What about jackets? It’s cold out there!” You exclaimed, rubbing your hands over your arms.

“Ah, I’ve prepared for that,” Theo said, picking up two jackets that had been placed beside where he’d once sat. You hadn’t noticed them originally.

He selected the smaller brown one and slipped it over your shoulder while he pushed his arms through the black one.

“Theo!” You exclaimed, running your hands over the nice corduroy material. “Where on earth did you get this? Whose is this?”

“Yours, of course,” he laughed as the four of you exited the castle and headed down the cobblestone path to Hogsmeade.

“What do you mean?” You asked.

“Call it an early Christmas gift,” he said, smiling smugly.

“You can’t be serious!”

“Of course I am,” he said, rolling his eyes. “I saw it in one of the shops last weekend and thought of you.”

If you weren’t the wiser, you’d have thought your heart had melted and poured down through your rib cage. A blush filled your cheeks and your stomach at the thought of Theo thinking of you and then buying something.

“Thank you, Theo,” you sighed. He laughed and shrugged it off as if he hadn’t just made your whole week, if not your whole decade.

The whole way down to Hogsmeade, your heart refused to let go of your brain. The pink filter that had been placed before your eyes glowed brightly. This little crush of yours seemed to have elevated a bit, but you’d never admit that, of course.

The group stopped before the Three Broomsticks, eager to slip into the cozy building’s warmth and order several rounds of Butterbeer.

The four of you pushed through the door and selected a round booth near one of the back windows. Enzo and Mattheo headed to the front counter to order for the group.

“Have you got any plans for the rest of the day?” Theo asked, naturally sliding his arm around the back of the booth behind you.

“Well, if you’ll have me, I’d love to stick with the three of you,” you suggested.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” he smiled, playfully tugging on a piece of your hair. He was hoping you’d say that?

“Here we are!” Enzo cheered, placing two pints of Butterbeer on the table before the two of you. Mattheo was close behind him, carrying two for the both of them. They slid into the booth beside Theo, with you and Mattheo on the ends and Theo and Enzo between you. It felt comfortable.

Between each of your smiles, all with different personalities, you’d found a very safe space to stay. Every moment with these people made up a memory you knew you’d remember until you could no longer. Nothing could have ruined this evening.

“Oh, my God!” A loud voice said, drawing the syllables out. The four of you turned to look at the unfamiliar face standing before your table. “Teddy? Is that you?”

“Teddy?” You asked, wrinkling your nose at the nickname.

“Holy shit. Laverna!” Theo laughed. “How long has it been?”

“A while! I’ve just been visiting recently and thought I’d stop by Hogsmeade after not having seen it for so long.”

The girl standing before your table was incredibly gorgeous, with flowing platinum hair that reached the bottom of her spine and shocking blue eyes. Her skin appeared flawless and luminescent beneath the comforting lights within the restaurant. A fire of jealousy broiled in your chest.

“Guys, this is Laverna,” Theo introduced her. “We were pretty close before her family moved to France, and she transferred to Beauxbatons.”

“That’s me!” she giggled. It sounded like she even had a hint of a French accent. You struggled not to roll your eyes.

“I was just going to get a drink. Do you want to catch up a bit?” she asked.

Theo ushered Mattheo and Enzo out of the booth. A bit confused, they got to their feet and allowed the boy next to them to slide out and give a hug to the beautiful woman. You sipped your Butterbeer.

The other two boys sat back down and glanced up at you in scattered patterns. You ignored their eyes. You were pretty sure they knew about your little crush. Scratch that. They definitely knew.

Over your shoulder, you could hear the two of them laughing and carrying on. You attempted to ignore the burning in your cheeks. Mattheo and Enzo nursed their drinks, fidgeting randomly.

A few moments of randomized chatting passed before Theo finally came back, a poignant smile still painted over his lips. You looked away from him.

“Sorry about that,” he laughed, scooting in next to Mattheo. You tried not to think about the fact that he didn’t sit next to you. You were being dramatic.

“Alright, where to next?” He asked. The four of you discussed what to do with the rest of your day with random store names circling about. The final agreement was to head over to Honeydukes to enjoy some of their Christmas sales, and so Enzo could stock the small jar that sat beneath his bed. He tended to snack throughout the night as he was tending to assignments, refusing sleep.

You gathered together and made your way through the small town, window-shopping here and there. Every time you pouted over Theo’s seemingly obvious interest in the gorgeous girl, you remembered the jacket currently around you. Theo cared about you. Was it the way you wanted him to? You weren’t sure.

Once inside the colorful store, the four of you split and wandered your separate ways, each looking for different sweets. You always headed right toward the chocolate frogs, eager to extend your vast collection of cards. Perhaps it was a bit childish, but who cared? It was a fun hobby.

You stopped before the rack piled high with the blue boxes and stared. You tried to guess which one would have a card you’d never gotten before, conjuring up every ounce of intuition you had.

With another second of thought, you chose the one sitting on the shelf directly in front of your face. You were excited to open it with Theo; he always loved to see you add to your collection.

You turned the box over in your hands, examining the packaging. Out of the corner of your eye, a flash of red caught your attention. You turn to the left and notice Theo laughing aloud, talking with that same girl, Laverna, and another girl. A dark-haired goddess with blushed cheeks and a perfect figure. Fuck’s sake.

The urge to crush the chocolate box in your hand flashed through your mind. You rolled your eyes and headed further into the store, trying to put distance between the two of you.

Mattheo was standing against a wall, browsing a rack of magazines, occasionally picking one to flip through. You stopped before him, leaning up against the same wall.

“Pouting, are you?” He asks, not looking up from the magazine in his hands. You scoff.

“No, I’m not…I’m just…,” you sigh and close your eyes.

“Just in love?” He asked, glancing up at you with a smirk.

“Fuck off,” you groaned. Was it that obvious? Maybe it was. You didn’t know. An exhausted sigh left your lips.

Uproarious laughter sounded from the corner. You recognized one of the laughs as Theo’s. The others belonged to women. That was it.

“Okay, I’m heading back to the castle,” you said, throwing your hands up. “Tell Theo I wasn’t feeling well or something.”

“What? Are you sure?” Mattheo asked, finally dropping the magazine. “We still want you here with us.”

“It’s okay, I’m just tired,” you said. “I think I’ll just head back for a nap until dinner.” And with that, you paid for your candy and headed back to the castle.

xxx

Over the next week, you made an unintentional decision to skip meals with the group. You weren’t trying to avoid them—or maybe you were—but you found yourself wanting to be alone more and more the past few days.

The thought of having to see Theo after Saturday, when he had the attention of half the girls in Hogsmeade, made you want to vomit. Perhaps it was jealousy pushing you away, but it was your anxiety keeping you there. Every time you thought of heading back to eat with the group, you reminded yourself that Theo hadn’t tried to reach out since you’d stopped seeing them. If he wanted to, he would, right?

With your decision to keep away from the boys for a while, you’d taken to eating in your dorm over your lunch break. Nobody else was ever in there, and it was kind of comfortable, to be honest. You would nibble on your meal and read, or draw, or whatever came to mind, and it was nice and quiet.

You set your book on your bed and gathered the little meal you’d prepared for yourself. Pulling the covers back, you settled in and grabbed your novel. This was absolutely lovely after a busy morning.

Just as you’d begun to settle yourself into the routine you’d started the previous week, two shouts of your name shot through the air. Before the disappointment and onset of anxiety came shock. Was that Theo?

Rapid steps grew closer and closer until the dormitory door echoed a gentle knock as if the person behind it had slowed down just as they’d arrived.

“Um…who is it?” You asked awkwardly.

“Baby, it’s Theo,” a breathless voice came from behind the door. “Please open the door. Please. I need to talk to you.”

Baby? What the fuck? What the fuck? What the fuck? The shocked mantra rushed through your head as you shakily ripped your comforter away, ignoring your food and book.

You slowly pulled the door open, seeing a nervous Theo. His eyes were shot with blushed red, and his lips were swollen. Had he been crying?

“Theo, what—?”

“Please, can I come in?” he asked. His breath exited his body in short, rough pants. You nodded wide-eyed and moved out of the way. He pushed into the room, walking to the center of the room. His hands pushed through his hair repeatedly.

You pushed the door closed and pushed the lock. When you turned, he did the same, eyes on yours. His eyebrows were furrowed together, desperation painted on his face. His lips were parted, his eyes wanting.

“What is it—?”

“You have to tell me what I’ve done,” he begged. “I feel like I’m going crazy.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean! Where have you been? You’ve been gone for days; the boys say you’re mad at me, that you might not come back—what the fuck are they talking about?” he demands, his eyes wide.

Your lips parted stupidly. No words came, no matter how hard you searched for them. The only thought that could process within your brain was how you were gonna kill Enzo and Mattheo for saying such stupid things to him. If anything, they were likely trying to get him to come and talk to you—which, it seems, has worked.

“Theo,” you cave, “it’s not that I wasn’t returning or mad at you…I was…” You could barely get the words out. He watched you with intent and pressure. It felt as though you were about to suffocate.

“What? Please tell me. What’s wrong?” He begged, his voice cracking. He moved toward you, his hands raising to touch you, then hesitating and dropping. A line of shimmering tears pool within his eyes, and the pure shock of seeing Theo about to cry had your lips parting again.

“I was…,” you groan, “…jealous.” You practically whispered the last part.

“Wait, what?” He gasped, his eyes widening even further.

“Theo, please don’t make me repeat it,” you sighed, pressing your hands to your face. “I’m embarrassed as is, I was jealous of those girls from last Saturday. I felt like every time I saw you, you were making another girl laugh, and they were all fucking perfect, of course, and I-I like you so much, Theo—”

His hands pressed to either side of your face, his fingers tight and warm. His eyes were widened, his breaths heavy.

“No more,” he breathed, “please, tell me to stop, and I will, but I have to…”

His lips pressed roughly to yours, his breath more like pants. He kissed you like you were air, his lips desperate and biting. The sound he pressed against your mouth was like one of relief. You gasped against him, finally realizing where you truly were and what was happening. Your fingers tightened in his hair, begging him closer to you.

“I n-need you,” he shivered against your lips, breath shuddering. You nodded fervently, barely having time to wrap your arms around his neck as his hands placed themselves around your thighs. He yanked you into the air and placed himself on your bed, settling you over his lap. The way he’d forced you to straddle him pressed his firming core against yours, sending a shock of excitement through your body.

His fingers began to quickly work the buttons of your shirt apart. When the fabric was finally split down the middle, he pressed his mouth to the top of your breasts, mouthing hot kisses against the soft flesh there. You sighed softly, letting your head fall back to allow him all the necessary room.

“Wanted you for so long,” he mumbles against you. Your fingers brush through his curled hair, gently scraping against his scalp every so often. The feeling of his lips against you made your heart race to the point of beating against his tongue.

Much to your dismay, he pulled away and shoved you back. You fell against the foot of the bed, completely helpless as he climbed over you. The domineering air he carried with him spread over your body, rendering it pliant beneath his searing touch.

His fingers gently cradled your hips as he worked his mouth over your stomach, dipping his tongue across every curve and dip, savoring the taste of sweat that slid down your skin. As his lips heated your skin, the shaking breaths he blew through his nose cooled it down and had you reeling. The ceiling above you was all but spinning.

He followed the curve of your body all the way up to your mouth, allowing his tongue to learn every inch of your abdomen. When his lips found yours again, the both of you were panting. The only thing standing between the two of you was your uniforms.

With a burst of confidence thanks to his session of worship, you gently cradled him in your hands, applying slight pressure against his most sensitive area. At the touch, he choked against you, sucking in a rough breath.

“Please,” he moaned. “Let me fuck you. I'll do anything.” He whispered your name. Over and over and over. Begging and begging.

“Anything?” You smirked, watching as his eyes seemed to well up with the same liquid. He nodded quickly.

“I want you to do whatever you want to me,” you whispered. And if it wasn’t like giving someone a million bucks.

“Thank you,” he whispered, a wave of relief washing across his face. The obvious desire written across his face and actions had you feeling wanted and gorgeous. The confidence built by the second.

His fingers quickly found the hem of your skirt and pushed it up over your thighs. At the sight of the thin bottoms you had on, a slow moan pushed itself between his lips. “Fuck,” he whispered.

His thumb came down to slowly swipe down the center of your core through your bottoms. You jolted at the soft action, not prepared for it. A smile spread over his face.

He gently pushed the fabric to the side, reveling in the feeling of the white lace against his fingertips. Once he’d revealed you, an even louder moan escaped from him. Only a moment passed before he pressed two fingers to his lips, coating them with a thick layer of saliva. He pulled them from his lips and began to lather you in himself.

Your lips parted in a breathy whine at the feeling. His fingers were gentle but direct, only brushing the most sensitive spots before slowly filling you up to the hilt of his fingers.

“Fuck, you just opened right up for me,” he groaned. His words sent shocks of lightning through your stomach. His skilled fingers stretched you out perfectly, preparing you for what was to come. The want in his eyes was growing darker and darker, imagining the next few minutes. It was all too much; you couldn’t wait any longer.

“Please, Theo, just fuck me,” you whined, “no more.”

“Yeah, baby? I’m gonna fuck you, don’t worry about that,” he whispered. “‘ve been dreaming about this cunt for months.” He makes quick work of his trousers, roughly ripping the clinking belt from its loops. He separates the button and pushes them down, revealing the dark briefs that framed every muscular curve.

He separated your legs and placed himself neatly between them. His hands reached down to agonizingly trace himself up and down your core. You moaned at the feeling, bucking your hips against his warmth. You attempted to salvage any of his warmth, begging for the feeling of him within you.

When he finally pushed himself into you, there was no resistance. The sounds that left your mouth chorused each other, echoing across the dorm room. He gave only a few seconds for you to adjust before building his pace rapidly. The pure length of him hit everything within you with ease. This time, there were tears welling up in your eyes as he abused every inch of you.

Sweet nothings left his mouth as he pushed roughly into you. His strong hips showed no weakness, and the hands that gripped you branded bruises against your flesh. Every second of this moment would visit you for years to come, promising you’d never find someone like Theo. He was the body made to fit perfectly against yours, with the intent to love and please and hold. And, fuck, if he wasn’t doing exactly that.

As he worked you closer and closer to the end, he reached down and pulled you quickly against his chest. Out of habit, your arms wrapped around his neck. Despite the change in position, he never let up on his speed or brutality. The only thing you could feel was his strong hands bouncing you up and down him. His teeth pressed into your neck, piercing the soft flesh there. And that was what did it for you.

You finished around him hard and heavy, your limbs becoming pathetically weak. As you came down from your high, you could barely keep your hold around him. His arms tightened around you, holding you up as he fucked himself into you, harder and harder, until he was coming, too. The feeling of his release pouring within you and every thrust he performed to push it back within you pulled you out for the final moment.

Stars danced around your head as he finally set you back down against the bed, his touch so gentle in comparison to what he had done prior. The contrast of his touch against you as he pushed the wet hair clinging to your forehead was blinding. You sighed contently as he lay next to you, eyes watching you closely.

“I’m sorry I was so emotional,” he whispered. “I thought I was going to lose you forever…before I’d even had the chance to tell you what kind of feelings I was harboring.”

“What kind of feelings?” you whispered back, turning over to face him.

“That I’m completely in love with you and have been for a long time.” Your heart swelled at the confession. Quiet giggles spilled from your mouths at the realization of what he was saying.

“I’m in love with you too, Theo,” you laughed. “That’s why I was so jealous.”

“Because I’m so sexy?” he teased. You rolled your eyes and placed a playful smack on his arm.

The moments that followed were filled with quiet laughs and sweet kisses. And before either of you had noticed, you’d both drifted off against each other. Afternoon classes were a lost cause, as was the hope of meeting back up with Mattheo and Enzo for dinner, but neither of you minded.

*Tag List: @lilymurphy03 (if you want to be added to the tag list for any future works, please send me a dm or message in my inbox, thanks!)*

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deadghosy · 6 months ago

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PLATONIC/ROMANTIC SLYTHERIN BOYS X LOVE WITCH/WIZARD! READER

Ft. The riddles, Draco malfoy, Blaise Zabini, Theodore Nott,&& Lorezno Berkshire

I appreciate reblogs, comments, and such as likes.

Tom Riddle

Makes you break couples up…🙁 please he gives off hater vibes on valentines days he don’t play.

He would especially make you break up that one couple that shows too much pda to the point Tom wants to Avada Kedavra himself. He literally points and says….

“Them..do your little love spells and break their pathetic hearts.”

Poor Tom just wants to go on with his day without hearing kissing noise.

Though he do wanders what your lips taste would taste on his.

Mattheo Riddle

Always pestering you to get him a date. Hell, he even woke you up straight on Valentine’s Day so you could help him find one.

Even for the yule ball…it was annoying.

“Are you sure you can’t make a love spell to work only for tonight?” Mattheo says, walking by you in the halls. You swiftly turn around with an annoyed expression. “Matt…please shove a sock in your mouth. I can’t force love, I can coach for sure. But force isn’t a good thing.” You lastly said. Leaving the Slytherin male to think to himself.

It took a few days for him to start to flirt with you. At first it didn’t work but then it started to.

Ending up with you two dating, oddly mattheo stopped talking about love which made you ask him.

Only for him to say this, “I stopped talking about love because you took it all.” Cheeky bastard…

Draco Malfoy

He’s just like Tom. He hates seeing pda from strangers. But for him he doesn’t mind showing you affection in public

A hypocrite I must say.

But he love show you do help couples with their relationship problems. He find it usual if you two ever get into an argument.

He’s curious, is he not? He goes into your so called “love office” and checks out your potions only to accidentally drop one called “obsession” on two rats who started to mate aggressively.

He was traumatized and never went inside your office again.

Blaise Zabini

Teases you a lil for being a love witch/wizard.

At first he thought you were joking to be one, but when you show your own magic he was amazed

Now he wants to watch all your sessions so can give his own love advice

Of course he credits you🫶🏾💕

If mattheo asked Blaise to steal a potion so he make two animals fall in love

He would either do it out of pure curiosity or just say no. You trust him a lot and even gave him a spare key for your office.

Theodore Nott

He would be a slight hater towards couple showing pda in public because he’s jealous he doesn’t that kind of love.

Would immediately sneak into your love office and try to do a “compatibility test” so he can see if you two are match

Would ask you a lot of damn questions of what do girls like in a guy and what do guys like in a girl. He just wants to know!

Probably asks if you do sex therapy.

Now that made him kicked out of your office.

He’s probably banned for life too🧍🏾

Lorenzo Berkshire

“Can you get me a date?”

Is what the poor boy would say to you. And sadly you decline as love is made within itself.

Lorenzo, being a slight hopeless Romantic and you being the romantic wizard/witch you are. Is quite a duo.

But despite everything, he wants to be your apprentice. Be finds your magic spells and potions very intriguing.

“Which spell works for this couple?”

“…break that one up. They’re so toxic.”

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leona-hawthorne · 1 month ago

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LEONA-HAWTHORNE’S FICMAS

december 27th. lorenzo berkshire — wrapped in red.

lorenzo berkshire x fem reader

summary ; surprising your beloved boyfriend in your favorite festive colors… words ; 3.8k warnings ; smut mdni, unprotected p in v, degradation/praise, lingerie, nipple sucking, titty slapping (?), creampie, established relationship

navigation ficmas masterlist

Lorenzo was always calm, always collected. He moved through life with the kind of ease that made everyone else envy him—a permanent smirk tugging at his lips, a lazy confidence in every stride. But tonight? Tonight, that composure was cracked, splintering with every passing second.

And it was your fault.

Because even while his friends laughed, argued, and passed bottles of Firewhisky around the table, Lorenzo didn’t see them. He didn’t hear the clink of glasses or the familiar banter filling the room. No, the only thing he saw was an X-ray version of you, his mind peeling back the thick-knit sweater and denim jeans you wore to reveal the little red-laced secret you’d shown him before everyone arrived.

He couldn’t decide if he loved you or hated you in moments like this. Maybe both.

You sat beside him, close enough that your knee occasionally bumped his under the table. To everyone else, you looked effortlessly put together—an angel in your festive sweater and jeans, so soft, so sweet. But Lorenzo knew better.

And he was trying to behave—Merlin, he was trying. But every subtle movement of yours, every time you reached for your glass of wine or leaned forward to laugh at one of Theo’s jokes, he felt the blood rush to his head and lower. You were a menace.

“You good, mate?” Blaise’s voice jolted him back to the moment.

Lorenzo blinked, quickly plastering on a grin that he hoped didn’t look too strained. “Yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Blaise shrugged, tipping his glass toward Lorenzo. “You just seem a little... distracted. Too much wine already?”

Before Lorenzo could answer, you chimed in, your voice light and teasing. “Oh, don’t blame the wine. Lorenzo’s just got a lot on his mind tonight.”

He glanced at you, eyes narrowing ever so slightly. You gave him an innocent smile, one that made his chest tighten and his fists clench under the table.

Draco leaned back in his chair, smirking. “Bet it’s work. You always get that look when you’re thinking about work.”

“Yeah,” Lorenzo muttered, forcing himself to look away from you. “Work.”

“Lighten up, Berkshire.” Pansy reached for the bottle to refill her glass. “It’s Christmas. No one wants to hear about whatever boring Ministry nonsense you’ve got going on.”

“It’s not boring,” Theo cut in, gesturing with his fork. “Enzo probably has a very important case. You know, like illegal broomstick modifications or... I don’t know, someone stealing cauldrons.”

The table burst into laughter, and even Lorenzo managed a weak chuckle. But his thoughts weren’t on the conversation. They were on you—on the way you crossed your legs, the way you kept tugging at your sweater like you were hiding something beneath.

He barely registered when Mattheo passed him the tray of roast potatoes, only grabbing it when Theo nudged his shoulder. “You’re really out of it, mate.”

“I’m fine,” Lorenzo said quickly, setting the tray down with a bit more force than necessary. He glanced at the clock, then at the empty plates around the table. “Should we bring out dessert?”

You tilted your head, a slow smile curving your lips. “Dessert already? But the night’s just getting started, isn’t it?”

If you weren’t sitting in a room full of people, Lorenzo would’ve kissed that smirk off your face—or done something else entirely. Instead, he swallowed hard, leaning back in his chair and gripping his glass like it might anchor him.

“Don’t worry, love,” you said softly, just loud enough for him to hear. “I’ll make sure you get exactly what you want... eventually.”

Lorenzo groaned under his breath, earning a curious glance from Draco. This was going to be a long night.

The evening dragged on in fits and starts, each laugh and clink of glasses feeling like a small eternity. Lorenzo kept himself occupied pouring drinks, clearing plates, and chiming in on conversations when necessary, but his attention was always split. The rest of the group was far too absorbed in their own stories to notice the tension simmering beneath the surface—except for you.

You leaned into every teasing word, every subtle graze of your fingers against his arm or leg, pushing his limits without saying a word. By the time Theo and Blaise started debating the best Quidditch team of the decade, Lorenzo was practically vibrating with the effort it took to keep his composure.

“Alright,” Pansy announced at last, standing and stretching her arms overhead. “I think that’s my cue to head out before Blaise starts drafting us for his imaginary team.”

“Imaginary?” Blaise shot back. “I could make the Cannons win if I had half a chance.”

Draco rolled his eyes, standing to help Pansy with her coat. “If Blaise keeps this up, we’ll all be here until morning.”

A flurry of goodbyes followed, with everyone exchanging hugs and well-wishes. You played the perfect hostess, ushering them out with a warm smile while Lorenzo stood stiffly at the door, offering little more than clipped nods. He was polite enough to keep up appearances, but you could see the strain in the set of his jaw, the tightness in his shoulders.

Finally, the door clicked shut, and the silence that followed felt deafening.

You turned, leaning casually against the door as you looked at him. “Well, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Lorenzo said nothing at first, his eyes scanning your face before dropping lower—to the hem of your sweater, which you had just barely started to tug up before letting it fall again. The corner of his mouth twitched, but it wasn’t a smile. It was something darker, more dangerous.

“Not bad?” His voice was low, quiet in a way that sent shivers down your spine. “You think that was not bad?”

You shrugged, feigning innocence. “Everyone had a good time. What’s there to complain about?”

Lorenzo took a slow step forward, his gaze fixed on yours. “You know exactly what.”

You laughed softly, pushing off the door and sauntering past him toward the living room. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You don’t, huh?” He was behind you in an instant, his hand closing gently but firmly around your wrist. The heat of his touch sent a jolt through you, and you turned to face him, your heart pounding.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “You’ve been driving me mad all night, love. And now you want to play coy?”

You tilted your head, your lips curving into a sly smile. “I don’t know... maybe I just wanted to see if you could handle it.”

Lorenzo’s grip tightened just slightly—not enough to hurt, but enough to let you know you were treading on thin ice. “Handle it? Sweetheart, you have no idea what you’ve just started.”

Before you could respond, he released your wrist and stepped back, his eyes roaming over you with an intensity that made your skin flush. He gestured toward the sweater with a flick of his fingers. “Go on, then. Show me.”

You hesitated for a moment, letting the tension stretch just long enough to tease him. The air between you felt thick, thick with something that wasn’t just anticipation, but need. Lorenzo was standing so still, his jaw clenched tight, his gaze trained on you like you were the only thing in the world.

And you, of course, were taking your sweet time. You took a step forward, brushing your fingertips across the collar of his shirt. “What’s the matter, Enzo? You look a little... tense.”

He didn’t respond at first. His hands flexed at his sides, a muscle in his neck tensing as he tried—unsuccessfully—to hold onto whatever sliver of control he had left. But you could feel it, the way the air between you had shifted, crackling with something dangerous.

Then, before you could blink, he was there—his large hands gripping your waist with bruising force, lifting you off the ground and throwing you over his shoulder without a word.

You gasped, more out of surprise than anything, but the playful smirk you wore didn’t falter. “Enzo! What—”

But he didn’t care to hear it. His steps were long and measured as he marched toward your bedroom, every move deliberate, as if he was on a mission. The door slammed behind him with a finality that made your stomach flutter with nervous excitement.

Without giving you a chance to say another word, he dropped you onto the bed with a force that made the mattress bounce. The sound of your heart thudded in your chest, and for a split second, everything was quiet.

Lorenzo stood at the edge of the bed, staring down at you like you were a puzzle he had to figure out. He dragged his gaze up and down your body, lingering on the way your sweater stretched across your chest, the hint of red lace peeking out from beneath it. His eyes darkened, almost black with hunger.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve done to me tonight?” His voice was rough, ragged, and you could feel it, feel the restraint slipping away with every passing second.

You grinned, leaning back against the pillows like you didn’t have a care in the world. “I think I have a pretty good idea,” you teased, running your hand down your side, accentuating the way the fabric of your jeans hugged your hips.

Lorenzo’s breath hitched. “You think it’s funny?” he growled. He didn’t wait for your response. He was done with your teasing, done with pretending to be patient. He reached down, yanking your sweater off over your head in one swift motion, the sound of fabric ripping filling the air. His hands were all over you now, rough and demanding, tracing the delicate lines of your body like he couldn’t get enough.

There, beneath it all, was the lingerie. Red lace that hugged your curves, teasing him even more than you had with your coy little glances and touches all night. The delicate lace barely covered your chest, and he could see it—see the way your nipples peeked through, hard and waiting for him. His eyes flicked up to yours, and for the briefest moment, he saw that glint of mischief in them.

“You’re such a fucking brat,” he muttered, running his hand up your thigh, feeling the soft fabric of your jeans under his fingertips. “You think you can just walk around in front of me like this and not expect me to lose my mind?”

You tilted your head, your voice sweet yet laced with defiance. “Maybe you shouldn’t have invited everyone over then.”

Lorenzo growled, shaking his head before he leaned over you, his lips trailing along your neck, tasting your skin with each breath.

“You’re lucky I don’t tear this off right now,” he muttered against your skin. “But I’m going to enjoy this, I’m going to take my time, because you deserve every second of this.”

He traced the edge of your lingerie with his fingers, his touch so slow and deliberate it made your breath catch in your throat. You squirmed beneath him, desperate for more, but he wouldn’t give it to you—not yet. His lips moved lower, pressing kisses along your collarbone, down to the delicate swell of your chest where the lace barely contained your breasts.

You moaned softly, and it was enough. Lorenzo could feel the restraint inside of him snap.

Without warning, he yanked at the straps of your lingerie, pulling them down just enough to expose your breasts. His hands immediately moved to cup them, squeezing and kneading them with rough insistence. You gasped, arching into his touch as he leaned down, taking one of your nipples into his mouth. The heat of his tongue and the way he sucked and nipped at you made your body tremble, your hands gripping his hair as you urged him on.

He pulled away, his eyes flashing with something dark, something primal. “You wanted to tease me? Now you get to feel what it’s like when I can’t keep my hands off you.”

The next moments were a blur of frantic movement, his hands and lips devouring you, tearing at your clothes with such urgency you could barely keep up. But you didn’t mind. You wanted this, needed it, wanted to feel him lose himself in you.

And soon, it wasn’t just about the teasing anymore. It was about claiming, about showing just how badly you had driven him to the edge.

He tugged your jeans down your legs with little care for the slow buildup he’d promised—he was done with that. You weren’t in the mood for waiting either. The moment your legs were bare, his hands were back, grazing over your skin like he couldn’t get enough.

You let out a soft whimper when he knelt between your legs, eyes dark and focused on the lingerie that had driven him mad all night. The red lace, so simple, so soft, now felt like a taunt—a promise of what he hadn’t had, what he’d been denied for too long. He ran his hands along the edges of the fabric, just skimming the sides, before tugging it down slowly, exposing you to him fully.

Your breath hitched when the cool air hit your skin, and Lorenzo wasted no time, pressing his lips to your inner thighs, his breath warm and heavy against you. His hands were still on your tits, gripping and squeezing as he kissed and nipped his way closer, the anticipation making your body tremble beneath him.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he muttered under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear, before he finally pulled back to look at you fully. His eyes flickered between the lace remnants at your waist and your flushed face, a smile tugging at his lips, though it was filled with nothing but hunger. “You think you can tease me like this and get away with it?”

You couldn’t help the teasing grin that crossed your face. “Maybe I can.”

His gaze turned intense. "We'll see about that." He stood up quickly, pulling his shirt over his head, exposing his chest to you. The movement was fluid, almost predatory, and the way he reached for his trousers sent a thrill straight through you. The urgency in his actions was both exciting and nerve-wracking—he wasn’t just acting on desire, he was acting on something else too. Something deeper, something urgent.

Before you could even react, Lorenzo was back over you, pressing you into the bed with his body, pinning your arms above your head. His lips found yours in a bruising kiss, hot and demanding. You gasped into his mouth when you felt the pressure of him, hard and insistent, against your stomach. His body was tense, his every movement purposeful as he ground against you, unable to hold back.

You moaned against his lips, desperate for more, for something, anything. "Enzo..." you whispered, pulling your hands free to thread them through his hair, tugging him closer. "Please."

He pulled back just enough to look down at you, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. "Begging already?" he murmured, his voice thick with lust. But there was something in his eyes—something softer that made your chest tighten. His hand moved to the back of your neck, his thumb brushing over your skin in a fleeting moment of tenderness before he returned to his more urgent touch.

You felt the heat between your legs intensify, an ache so deep it threatened to consume you, and you didn’t want to hold back anymore. "I want you, Enzo," you breathed, the words leaving your lips before you could stop them.

Lorenzo’s smirk deepened, but there was a teasing, almost mocking quality to it as he looked down at you, eyes dark with desire. His voice was low, taunting, as he leaned down, brushing his lips against yours softly before pulling away, his breath hot against your cheek.

“Patience, darling,” he murmured, his fingers trailing down your body again, barely skimming over the lace of your lingerie before he slid his hand between your legs. His fingers brushed against the soft fabric of your panties, teasing just enough to make your hips buck involuntarily.

You gasped, the sensation sending a jolt of pleasure through you, but you didn’t get a chance to savor it. He moved faster, tugging at your panties just enough to expose you, fingers now teasing your sensitive skin, circling slowly, deliberately.

“You’re so wet,” he said softly, almost in awe, as he dragged his fingers lower. The way he spoke sent another rush of heat through you. “I wonder if you’ve been like this all night, haven’t you? Wet and needy, waiting for me to touch you.”

His fingers slid inside you without warning, and you gasped, your back arching against the bed as you dug your fingers into the sheets. Lorenzo’s thumb found your clit, circling it in a rhythm that sent your mind spinning. His pace was slow at first, just enough to drive you wild, but he wasn’t gentle. Not tonight.

“You’re fucking dripping,” he muttered, the words laced with both admiration and amusement. “Aw, poor baby. Do you want me to make you cum?”

You could only moan in response, your body reacting to his every touch, every movement. His fingers curved inside you, pressing against that spot that made your vision blur and your chest tighten. He leaned down, kissing the side of your neck as you squirmed beneath him, desperate for more.

“I bet you’ve been thinking about this all night, haven’t you?” he whispered, his voice a low, rough purr against your skin. “Wondering when I’d finally take what’s mine.”

You nodded, barely able to focus, your breath coming in shallow gasps. His fingers increased their pace, the pressure in your core building higher, tighter, until you were on the edge of losing yourself.

But just as you felt yourself teetering, Lorenzo pulled his fingers away, leaving you breathless and aching. He lifted his head, eyes gleaming with satisfaction as he watched your body writhe beneath him, desperately trying to find some relief.

“You’re not getting off that easy,” he said, his voice laced with amusement. “Not tonight.”

Before you could protest, he pulled you up, your legs wrapping around him as he kissed you again, deep and forceful. You didn’t get a chance to catch your breath before his hands were on your waist, lifting you effortlessly. You gasped as he positioned himself at your entrance, his eyes locked on yours, the heat between you both palpable.

“Now,” he growled, “I’m going to make you feel it.”

With one swift movement, he thrust into you, and the world around you seemed to fade into nothing. The pleasure hit you instantly, a deep, overwhelming pressure that had you gasping for air. He didn’t hold back. His pace was brutal from the start, each thrust driving deeper, filling you completely. The way he moved, so forceful, so confident—it made everything inside you tighten.

You couldn’t stop yourself from moaning, your hands scrambling to grab at his back, pulling him closer. “Enzo… Please…”

“Please what?” he taunted, his voice dripping with arrogance. “Tell me what you want, sweetheart. I want to hear you beg for it.”

You swallowed hard, the words feeling like they were caught in your throat, but he was relentless. His thrusts were deep and unforgiving, each one hitting a new level of pleasure you hadn’t expected. His hands were everywhere—gripping your hips, slapping at your ass, as if marking you, claiming you. His lips were on your neck, biting, sucking, leaving bruises that only added to the fire burning inside you.

“Enzo…” you gasped again, unable to control the way your body moved against his. “Please, harder…”

He grinned against your skin, a breathless laugh escaping his lips. “That’s what I wanted to hear.”

With a growl, he shifted his angle, pushing into you even deeper, his body slamming against yours with each thrust. You moaned louder, the sound filling the room as you felt the tension in your body intensify, the pressure building in ways you couldn’t control. His hand moved up to your chest, gripping at your breast through the lace, squeezing and pinching as he gave your nipple a sharp twist.

You gasped, the sensation sending shockwaves through your body, making everything inside you tighten even more. He laughed darkly, his breath heavy in your ear as he slapped at your tits, the sting of the contact making you wince, but the pleasure only grew.

“You like that, don’t you?” he purred, slapping your tits again, harder this time. “Like it when I treat you like a little slut.”

The sting of the slap made you gasp, your body trembling beneath him, but it was all part of the overwhelming pleasure. Your breath came in ragged bursts as he alternated between slapping and groping your tits, squeezing them harshly through the lace, pulling at your nipple again with a cruel twist.

“Enzo, please…” you whimpered, unable to stop yourself from writhing beneath him, your body aching with need. “I can’t… I’m so close…”

“Close?” he repeated, a wicked grin forming on his lips as he slapped your tits again, the sound of his hand meeting your skin ringing in the air. “You want to come, sweetheart? You need to beg me for it.”

His thrusts grew more forceful, more erratic, as he continued to abuse your tits, slapping them with no mercy. The sting mixed with the pleasure, and you could feel yourself tightening again, your body responding to his every movement. You couldn’t hold back any longer.

“Please, Enzo… I need you to let me come,” you gasped, your voice desperate.

With one final, deep thrust, he gave you what you wanted, and you exploded in waves of pleasure, your body seizing beneath him as you cried out his name. Lorenzo’s thrusts didn’t stop; he followed you, his own release coming in a sharp, breathless groan. He buried himself deep inside you, his fingers still squeezing your tits, almost as if to ground himself.

You both stayed there for a moment, still tangled together, breathless and satiated. Lorenzo leaned down, kissing your neck softly, his voice low and teasing.

“I love you,” he whispered, his hands softening their grip on your chest. “But don’t think for a second I’ll let you off that easy again.”

You smiled, the aftershocks of your orgasm still trembling through you. “Maybe next time I’ll make you wait longer.”

Lorenzo chuckled darkly, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. “I’ll make sure you regret that.”

ficmas taglist: @winnie1emon @ur-local-wizard @satosugu4-ever @ankoluvs @superstargirll @slytherin-princess-x @abeoavita @mattheoriddle101 @georgiastars13 @smoooore @mattheoriddles-sluttt @2dloveshp @mattysprincess @catching-fire-in-the-wind @revesephemeres @esmerai-artemis @clar2aa @iamaconfusedpan

#lorenzo berkshire #slytherin boys #lorenzo berkshire x you #lorenzo berkshire x reader #lorenzo berkshire x female reader #enzo berkshire #enzo berkshire x y/n #enzo berkshire x you #enzo berkshire x reader #enzo berkshire smut #harry potter #slytherin #louis partridge #lorenzo berkshire fanfic #smut #ficmas #leona-hawthorne ficmas

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folklaur21 · 10 months ago

Text

What would've should've been

Pairing: Theodore Nott x fem!ravenclaw!reader

Summary: Theodore Nott didn't truly know what love felt like until he found you. But now all he can do is sit and imagine what should've been.

Warnings: Mentions of death/killing, Battle of Hogwarts, use of Y/N

Word Count: 2.3k

Before You

Theodore Nott isn't the happiest person in the world. Scratch that, he might be the most subdued, emotionally complex guy to have ever existed. Hardly anything made him smile, next to nothing made him laugh. That's just how he was, is, and how he will always be.

It isn't completely his fault. People are never born 'sad' or 'emotionless'. Theo was brought up this way. It was ingrained into him as a child, silently impacting his life forever, and he didn't even realise it. Well, that was until his mother died. At the hands of his father.

Theodore's mother was a gentle soul. Sweet and caring, she always looked after her son. She gave him everything a child needed, wanted, and then some. The one thing she couldn't provide for Theo? A stable father, who wasn't an alcoholic, abusive pig. Though she did try, the fear she had of Theodore's father never ceased throughout their marriage. She just had to try to shelter Theodore from this cold, uncaring lifestyle.

She could only protect her son so much. When Theodore was just nine years old, she couldn't take the abuse from his father anymore. So she tried to escape. From her house, from her husband, from her life. Yet she failed. And he found out. Theodore Nott Sr. was not happy with this. So he did the only thing that he thought could ease his troubles. He killed his wife. The mother of his child. The child that had heard the Unforgiveable Curse uttered from his father's lips. The child who watched the flash of green light emitted from his father's wand. The child who had to watch his own mother, the only person who truly cared for him, die.

When he started Hogwarts, Theodore wanted a somewhat fresh start. Free from the burdens of his home life, he made friends.(Arguably, they were friends who his father would have approved of. If his father even cared.) At school, Theodore worked hard, and tried to mask the emotions he had always been told to oppress. Anger. Hatred. Vulnerability. So none of his friends truly knew what his life was like. Except for Lorenzo.

Theo told Enzo Berkshire everything. It was easier, having someone understand why you were like you were. Someone who you trusted with your deepest, darkest secrets. Someone who cared about you. That's how the two became best friends. Practically inseparable, 24/7.

During You

Having a connection with someone was something Theodore didn't truly seek throughout his lifetime. Especially now, in his fourth year at Hogwarts. Apart from Enzo, he was fine with keeping to himself, keeping a low profile and staying out of everyone's way. That was, until he saw you.

"Enzo, I don't want to go."

"Please, Theo, I want you to come. I'll be lonely without you." Enzo pleaded with his friend.

"I don't want to go to the Yule Ball. And besides, I didn't ask anyone to go with me." Theodore replied, still resisting the idea.

"So? No-one really cares if you're with someone or not. It's supposed to be fun." Enzo says with a sigh as he flops down next to Theo on his bed.

Theo scoffs. "Says you! How many girls asked you to go with them? 15?"

Lorenzo turns slightly pink at his friend's comment. "23..."

Theo lets out an exasperated sigh. "Exactly," Theo says, but after a moment he decides, "I will go to the ball with you Enz. Only because it's that, or sit around here or in the common room with all the first years."

So, that was how he ended up standing at the side of the Great Hall, sipping a glass of pumpkin juice, and watching all of his friends dancing with whoever they brought to the Ball. Theo didn't really mind. Once again, he was merely waiting in the wings, not really expecting anything grand to happen to him. At least, that's what he thought would happen. Until he saw you.

You were with some of your friends on the dancefloor. Laughing and smiling, you were carefree, living your life to it's full potential. Theo couldn't bear to take his eyes off of you. It's not like you would have seen him anyway, with him lurking in the shadows.

After he had spent what felt like forever watching you, Enzo came to his friend's side, offering a new glass of pumpkin juice, which Theo gladly accepted.

"Who's that?" Theo asked his friend, nodding his head in your direction.

"That's Y/N. Y/L/N I think. She's in Ravenclaw. She's actually quite clever, I sat next to her in arithmancy last year." Enzo pauses for a second. "Why do you want to know?"

"I don't know," Theo shrugs, nonchalant. "I just... don't remember seeing her before, that's all."

"Oh. Well, she's really kind. And sweet." Enzo smiles before rushing of again to resume dancing, leaving Theo to mull over his thoughts. Thoughts of you.

A week later, whilst sat in Potions, Theodore couldn't help but watch you, sitting across from him in the classroom. Strange. He had never noticed you before, but now it seemed you were the only thing plaguing his mind. He hardly took any notice of Professor Snape that lesson, watching you as you took notes with your brow furrowed, and how you twirled your quill around in your fingertips if you seemed distracted.

Over the next few weeks, Theodore Nott grew to know lots about you, even if you didn't yet realise it. He knew your favourite subject (Charms), your favourite sweets from Honeydukes (Chocolate Frogs, because you collected the cards). He even knew how you liked to spend your Sundays (sat in the courtyard with a book and a hot chocolate). Theo was drawn to you, for some unknown reason, and not even he could figure out why.

In the weeks leading up to your exams, you spent an increasing amount of time in the library, studying. Funnily enough, so did Theodore. He wanted to do well academically, even if his friends preferred skiving off and messing with first years. So, that was how he came to speak to you for the first time, five whole months after he was first captivated by you.

"Can I sit here? All the other tables are either occupied or slightly sticky and I don't want to mess up my books"

"Uhh, sure!" Theodore said, shocked that you had even come over to him. "No," he told himself. "She's only over here because nowhere else was free. Don't get your hopes up."

"I'm Y/N, by the way." You smile at him, and wave your wand to get your books laid out on the desk in front of you.

"Theodore. But you can call me Theo." Theodore said, as he found himself smiling in return.

The two of you started to talk about anything and everything; school, exams, your hobbies, interests, just your lives in general. And that's how Theo realised that, maybe he wasn't such a cold, uncaring teenager after all.

A week or so later, the two of you were sat under the shade of an oak tree overlooking the Black Lake, studying for, you guessed it, exams. That moment was when Theo finally plucked up enough courage to ask you something.

"Hey, Y/N?" he asked, taking a deep breath.

"What?" you replied, looking up from your book.

"I was wondering, would you maybe like to, and it's OK if you don't, I don't mind, you don't have to say yes or anything because it's completely your choice-"

"Spit it out, Theo!" you giggled, humoured by his rambling.

"Right. Sorry." Theo said, trying to calm himself down. "Umm, would you like to go to Hogsmeade with me next weekend? And could we possibly go to the Three Broomsticks? You know, just... us?"

Your eyes widened, before you smiled at the boy's worried expression. "Of course! Theo I'd love to."

You wrapped your arms around him and gave him a small kiss on the cheek before returning to your book, leaving Theodore grinning as if he'd just won the lottery. Which, with you, he basically had.

After You

It had been a while since Theodore Nott had been back at Hogwarts. Since he had gotten the Dark Mark, at his father's force, he had stayed working for The Dark Lord, being a Death Eater. He hated it. It was a life his father had forced him into, a life which wasn't truly his. And now he was back at the one place which had been a home to him, but now he was here to destroy it.

Theo tried to look for you. The one person who he trusted, and the one person who trusted him. Theo wasn't here to fight. He wasn't here to kill. He couldn't do that here. His safe place, where his father couldn't physically torture him. Where you were.

Before his sixth year at Hogwarts, Theo was held under the Imperius curse by his father, and the searing skull tattoo, the tattoo that would hurt him forever, was imprinted into his left arm. When school started again, he couldn't bear to tell you, his girlfriend, what had happened. But he did, because between you two, there were no secrets. When you found out, all you were was supportive. You helped Theo though his pain and anguish, but what he didn't know is that when you first found out, you cried for hours. Crying about his future, your future, angry at the world you live in for being so cruel. Crying was really the only thing you could do.

After Dumbledore's death, Theodore did what he thought would be best for your relationship, best for you.

"You can't be serious, Theodore?" you said, trying to keep your voice levelled and clear, holding back the tears.

That hurt Theo. You never called him Theodore, unless you were really frustrated. Which hadn't happened until now. "Y/N please, I have to, it's for your safety."

"My SAFETY? Theo, I couldn't care less about that right now. Please, don't do this." You couldn't hold back any longer. The tears were now streaming down your face.

"I don't want to, but-"

"But what, Theo? I love you!"

"I love you too, but-"

"Then surely that's all that matter?" you say, exasperated. "We love each other. We can run away together, and live in hiding until it's safe for us to come out, to be together."

"No, we can't, you know we can't, we'll be found and then... you'd... You'd be killed." Theo says in a small voice. "And I can't let that happen to you. Please, Y/N, just listen to me. As soon as this is over, we can get back together. We can live together, start over together. But it can't happen now. Not yet. Please, Y/N, wait for me."

You can't stop crying now, and you lean over to Theo and kiss him. "OK. When it's all over. I'll be waiting for you, Theo. You'll definitely come back to me?"

"Of course I will, Y/N. I promise I'll find you."

And of course, that's what he was currently doing. Looking for you. He had been waiting a year to see your face again, hoping you hadn't forgotten about him. However now he couldn't find you. Running through the corridors, shouting you name, dodging curses and rubble, Theo's only goal was to find you. And he did.

There you were at the top of the Astronomy tower, a split lip and wearing a torn blue jumper, you were aiming all sorts of hexes at a Death Eater. Theo was so relieved, and began firing spells at your opponent, until he was knocked unconscious. At that point, Theo kicked the limp body over the balcony, not caring what would happen.

"Y/N." Theo smiled. "I told you I'd come back."

You pulled Theo into a hug and kissed him. "Theo!" you breathed.

"I love you more than anything, Y/N." All Theo could do was look into your bright, tearful eyes, relieved that he could see you once again before-

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

That fateful curse.

A flash of green light.

Your body fell limp in Theo's arms.

Your eyes lost their brightness.

"NO!"

Theo tried to pull you up, tried to hold you tight, but it was no use. You were gone. Theo looked up to see your murderer, looking him in the eyes. His father.

Your death at the hands of Nott Sr. ensured Nott Sr.'s death at the hands of his son. That was the first and last time that Theodore Nott would ever use the killing curse, and it only made sense for it to be on the person that used it on the two people who he had loved most in the world.

When the Battle of Hogwarts was over, most of Voldemort's supporters were dead, captured, or had fled the scene when it was evident that they were losing. But two Death Eaters stayed behind, simply because they couldn't bear to leave the castle like this. They felt it was partly their fault. Those two Death Eaters were Theodore Nott and Lorenzo Berkshire.

Whilst everyone gathered in the Great Hall, Enzo wandered the, now ruined, corridors of a place he loved so dearly. What he didn't expect to find his best friend, leaning on the crumbled wall of the Astronomy tower, cradling someone in his arms. Not to mention the fact that his father lay on the ground mere feet away.

"Please, Y/N, you can't be dead, you can't. I came back for you I-"

"Theo?" Enzo inquired, sitting on the floor next to his best friend, who was in fits of tears.

"He killed her, Enz. He killed her so- So I killed him. I had to."

"It's OK, Theo." Enzo replied, putting an arm around his friend's shoulder, and letting him cry.

The pair fell into a comfortable silence, with the sound of everyone in the castle talking and grieving the loss of friends and family. The two could have been down there with them, celebrating the demise of the people who made their lives hell.

But instead, all Theodore Nott could think about is what should've been.

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cravingcoldoreocake123 · 6 months ago

Text

Lacy | Lorenzo Berkshire

In which your best friend Lorenzo, whom you’re secretly in love with, introduces you to his new girlfriend Lacy during one of Theo’s parties. And jealousy fills your veins as you can’t love him in secret anymore.

TW: Fluff, best friends to lovers, no use of y/n.

I watch her throw her arms around his neck, pulling him even tighter as she looks me straight in the eyes. His hands snake around her frame, sliding them under her shirt, his fingers caressing her supple skin. He rests on the curve of her waist, nuzzling his head in her neck as she giggles, and I can’t help but imagine him holding me that way instead.

He lifts up his head, his eyes falling on mine. “Come! This is Lacy, my girlfriend that I’ve been telling you about.” Enzo says, snapping me back to reality. My body freezes watching him in her arms with the biggest smile on his face. I start feeling dizzy as I hesitantly walk over to them.

I stop in front of them, my heart physically aching at him calling her his girlfriend. “I’ve heard so much about you, it’s nice meeting you.” I smile, extending my hand towards her. Her sight lingers on it for a few seconds before making eye contact with me. “Lacy.” She says, her face not displaying any emotion whatsoever. She finally grabs my hand firmly, as I furrow my eyebrows at her reaction.

“I’ll just grab a drink, um… I’ll see you guys later.” I say retracting my hand, and I scurry off before Enzo gets the chance to speak again. He stares at my back in confusion, I felt sicker with each step I took. I take a few breaths, steadying my ragged breathing. It suddenly felt hot and uncomfortable, and I raise my hand to pat off the sweat collecting on my forehead.

I pick up the first glass of liquor I see, downing all of it in a second. The title “girlfriend” echoed in my head as I stared at their intertwined hands, her thumb caressed his soft skin. My grip unconsciously tightened around my cup. I look up to find him staring at me, with worry in his brown eyes, not listening to a word Lacy was telling him. My heart physically ached, it seemed as if my ribs crumbled down on it caging it, making it feel heavier. All my dreams and my silly scenarios of him suddenly went up in flames, turning into nothing but grey ashes and disappearing with the wind.

I couldn’t bear to look at them for just a second longer, so I grabbed my purse slinging it over my shoulder, heading straight for the doors. His eyes never left my back and his worry grew with each step I took. I didn’t know where I was going, Theo’s house was so vast and I was never around much to distinguish one room from another and remember all the entries and hallways. My sight blurred as tears gathered on my waterline, I walked faster down a dark hall passing numerous rooms, my steps being the only sound heard. I opened a random door, hoping no one would be on the other side.

I sniffled, wiping my nose on my sleeve. I sat on the ground resting my back on the bed. It was a big room with a pretty balcony, overlooking Theo’s beautiful garden, and the moon beamed down on me as I laid my head on my knees. I grew up with Enzo, I was there for him when he got stood up for the first time… he was there for my first heartbreak. We always had each other, we were the best of friends, but I wanted more. I wanted to be the one he comes back to at the end of the day, the one he brags about to his friends, I craved him to love me the way I loved him. But I couldn’t risk losing my best friend, he meant everything to me, he was all I knew. And so, I kept it to myself.

I pretended I was happy when he told me about his crushes, or the girl he had lost his virginity to, I mended my own heart after seeing the bouquets of flowers he got for his lovers, and I tried to outrun my love for him but I obviously couldn’t and there’s only so much a girl can take. Tears slid down my cheek as I remembered the way his arms caged her body so close to his that I’m sure they could feel each other’s heartbeats.

“What do you think?” He asked, giving me a little twirl. I chuckled, nodding. I rested my head on my palm, looking him up and down again and again admiring him. He looked so unbelievably good and my mind was racing with endless excuses to tell him to stop him from leaving. “You look amazing, Enz. Too good.” He turned to the mirror, fixing his hair. “So, is she pretty?” I asked curiously, my head tilting. He stopped and faced me, leaning his back on my vanity. “You’re still the prettiest girl I’ll ever lay my eyes on.” He said, smirking and pinning a loose strand of hair behind my ear. I instantly felt my cheeks heat up, and I lowered my head in embarrassment. I felt like a little high school girl, crushing on a boy for the first time. “Wish me bad luck.” He started walking to the door. “Good luck, you mean?” I chuckled. “No, wish it’ll go bad so that I’ll come running straight to you in no time.” He said, then quickly rushed to close the door before I could even think of an answer.

You bet your ass I prayed the whole time she’d be ugly or fall dead.

I lightly chuckled through my tears, remembering the memory. But it was short lived as the sound of the door cracking open pulled me back to reality. My hands tremble as they wipe the tear stains the rivers I was crying left on my cheeks, and I get up turning to the door. And there he stood, in all his glory. “What are you doing here? I looked for you everywhere-” He stopped as soon ah he saw my red puffy eyes, and the new batch of tears that sat delicately on my waterline. “What’s wrong, love?” His eyebrows pinched together in confusion, he walked closer to me extending his hand. “No. Don’t call me that, Lorenzo.” I said sternly, raising my own hand in front of me, and as much as I lived for him calling me love and all those other pet names, I simply wasn’t. I wasn’t his “love” or “darling” or whatever he called me, I was the girl that he grew up with, the one that loved him in secret.

His face paled and his mouth hung slightly open. “Since when do you not like me calling you love? And when have you ever called me Lorenzo? Are you okay?” He asked, confusion and worry laced with his shaky voice. “Since now. I’m not your love, Lorenzo. As much as I have dreamt and ached to be all these years, I’m still not!” I scream in frustration, letting my bag drop to the ground as I raised my hands to rub my teary eyes. “And you know what pains me even more, Lorenzo? The fact that she looks just like me. Her hair is the same length, our eyes are the same color, we dress the same and we’re the same height, we both even have bows in our hair but it’s not me, it should be me I want it to be me so, fucking bad but it’s not.” I sniffle.

My nails dig into my palms unconsciously, I couldn’t care less about how he thinks of me now or what I’ve ruined, my heart and my mouth both can’t hold it in anymore, it physically hurts to. “I don’t know who I hate more.. you or her. I don’t know if I hate her for having the privilege to hold your hand in public and show you off or you for choosing her.” Sweat forms on my forehead as I can’t think straight anymore, endless thoughts and words roam my head but I can’t seem to form a coherent sentence anymore. My hand clutches my chest, my heart was beating so fast I could’ve sworn it was going to break through my rib cage and rip my flesh open.

I look up to find his sweet eyes on mine, filled with an emotion I could not decipher yet. He sighs and cautiously walks over to me, he slowly raises his hands and rests them on my shoulders. I break eye contact for a short while, focusing my sight on the floor, trying to gather my thoughts and prepare myself before looking up at him again. The moonlight shone through the window and landed right on his face, and somehow he looked even more angelic. I scanned his features as mine softened, I almost forgot the reason we fought in the first place. Almost.

“Do you hate me now?” I genuinely asked, searching his eyes for an answer. His hands dropped from my shoulders and I mentally cursed at the lack of contact. He stayed quiet for a bit just looking at me, before sighing and speaking again. “I could never hate you, even if I tried.” He says. My face drops as I notice the tears welling up in his eyes. “Enz-” He quickly cut me off, shaking his head. “I’m sorry.” He slowly mutters, and I brace myself for the impact that is my rejection, and an even worse fall that’s losing him in every way possible, as my best friend, the person I loved most and the reason why I even pursued Hogwarts. “I’m sorry I wasn’t ballsy enough to admit it to you and I let all those years go by without loving you the way I wanted to, the way I dreamt I should.” My face scrunches in shock at his words and I stay silent. “I was scared. I didn’t want to lose you completely and I didn’t think you felt the same way about me, I thought having you as my best friend was better than not being with you at all.” He quietly says “I loathed being away from you and I feared by telling you how I felt I’d ruin our friendship.” I stay frozen as he delicately raises his shaky hand to cradle my cheek and caress it, I watch a tear make its way down his soft cheek, stopping at his chin. “I love you, and I always have.. not as my best friend. I’ve always tried to date girls that looked like you and I know it’s messed up but I wanted to be with you in any way, even if that meant pretending they were you.” He stops for a second to catch his breath, “I’m sorry, I’m really sorry, my love. I didn’t know how much I hurt you, I love you with the fire of a million suns- I’m in love with you. I can’t think when you’re not near me, I don’t even think I can breathe properly when you aren’t.”

Adrenaline rushes through me as I look into his sparkling eyes, his hands still held my face. It takes a second for his words to fully register, my eyes wander from his own down to his trembling lip. He slowly inches closer to me, “I live to be in your presence, you might just be the only reason I breath-” I quickly cut him off, throwing my arms around his neck as our lips meet in an overdue kiss, and I don’t think I’ve ever felt truly alive until then.

His hand glides up from my lower back and tangles itself in my hair, deepening the kiss. I could feel my chest tightening from the lack of oxygen but I couldn’t stop, I was way past addicted. He suddenly pulls back to stare at my eyes, both our chests heaving up and down. His soft hands scramble to hold my face as he flashes me his sugary smile, caressing my cheek with his thumb. “I’m never letting you go.” He says while chuckling, I couldn’t help but feel euphoric in his arms, but there was one thing bothering me still. “What about Lacy?” I hesitantly ask, afraid of ruining the moment.

“I broke up with her before even coming up here, it’s you I want.” He says.

204 notes · View notes

mrsriddles-blog · 3 months ago

Note

Lorenzo Berkshire X Fem!Reader ???

Could you do a oneshot of the reader and Enzo being close friends? Basically they both secretly harbor feelings, but they don’t know how to tell each other. Reader starts to have spicy dreams about Enzo and get shy and flustered to be around him so she avoids him. Her bestie is Pansy. Basically, Pansy asks why reader has been so weird. Maybe a smutty ending between Enzo and Reader?

If Only | L.B

Pairing: Lorenzo Berkshire x Fem Slytherin Reader

WC: 5.9k+

Warnings/Notes: mild language, p in v, smut, fluff, angst…

Summary: Suddenly, you’re developing feelings for your best friend and you’re unsure what to do…

Authors Note: I suck at writing smut lmao I tried my best for the request and hope whoever requested this is happy! I’m soooooo sorry it took me so long to get to the request. While reading the request, it kind of sounded like something I read, but not completely you know, but it sounded familiar, so after going through my reading archives—I found the fic that it reminded me of. If you haven’t read it already, it’s called “Agora Hills” by @theostrophywife , so please go check out her piece! And her other work! It’s amazing! She is a super, super, super talented author!🤍

If someone were to ask you who your best friend was, you'd answer right away and tell them, "Lorenzo Berkshire."

There was no need for anyone to ask the question of course as it was pretty obvious. You two were always together. In fact, you guys were seen so often together that some began to question if you two were just friends. You were quick to deny the speculations and to shut any rumors down, but it didn't always help.

It didn't help that your own friend group also questioned your guys' relationship. You'd remind them it's "platonic" and it's just a "friendship" and not a "relationship". You begun to think that they enjoyed how flustered it made both you and Enzo.

Of course they choose to tease their two most empathetic, shy, and naive friends.

Out of your friend group, it was you who was the most empathetic. Sometimes your friends wondered how you got sorted into Slytherin. You were shy and always were timidly in the background. You weren't super confident in yourself mentally or physically. You were naive to the crudeness and cruelty ongoing around you. You were definitely the innocent one, a trait that your friends admired about you even though they sometimes secretly think your Hufflepuff or something.

You loved to tie a ribbon bow in your hair if that said anything. You use to do a pink ribbon, but everyone teased you for it, so you switched to an emerald green ribbon.

However, it was your friends who scared everyone away who teased you about your love for your bows. They loved your innocence, your naivety, your shyness, and your cuteness. You were like a female version of Enzo in their eyes, but a lot less exposed to the world compared to him. He hung out with the boys a lot because of Quidditch, so it was obvious he had not the most innocent mind.

Enzo and you have known each other since before Hogwarts. After all, your mothers were childhood best friends themselves and this wished the same for their future children. Your mothers were amazed when they ended up pregnant a few months apart. Enzo was older than you by four months, but you both were attached by the hip the moment you both met.

Your mothers believe the two of you are destined or something like that. They said they saw it the day they put their two babies in a room together. They claimed the sun brightened and that childish giggles were all they could hear as the two of your begun to play. Enzo and you always roll your eyes and smile, believing the two women were over exaggerating the day you two were introduced.

"Pans...could we talk about something?" You murmur.

The boys were practicing for their next Quidditch game on Friday against Ravenclaw. It was just Pansy, Astoria and you in the Common Room, but Astoria had fallen asleep while studying. Pansy was reading through her essay and you were trying to read your latest romance novel, but you couldn't quite focus.

"Yeah, of course! What's up?" She asks, looking up at you with a soft smile.

Her black hair was in its normal perfect bob, her green eyes sparkling in the soft glow from the fireplace. She was pale and had sharp features, light freckles dusting across her nose and cheeks. You were always envious of how perfect she looked.

You glanced around the Common Room, realizing it was just you three in the room which was rather strange, but you were thankful in the moment.

"I...I like someone, but I don't think I can like him." You admit softly, so softly she would have had missed it if she weren't accustomed to your soft tone.

"And why is that, honey?" She asks softly, sitting up as she angled herself more towards you.

"He's my friend. I doubt he likes me that way. Even if he did like me that way...I don't know if I could be with him. I'd be worried about losing him if things went array." You admit quietly, anxiously fidgeting with your hands.

"Hun, is this about Enz?" She asks softly, placing a hand over your fidgeting ones.

You look up from your hands, your cheeks flushing red as you meet her soft eyes and her soft smile. You nod slowly, your hair falling in your face, and you suddenly were thankful for the shield to protect you.

"What would you like to do? Would you like to find out where he stands?" She asks.

"I dunno...maybe...maybe I should wait. Maybe it'll go away." You mumble embarrassed.

"Okay, hun...why don't you talk to me after you wait and you're one hundred percent certain how you feel and I'll help you figure it out? How's that sound? It'll give you time to think about it and maybe I can sniff out some information for our next conversation." She says.

"Okay...thanks, Pans. You're the best." You murmur, hugging her.

She smiles, hugging you back as she waits until you pull away. You had always wondered about why she waited to pull away from a hug. You learned that she wanted to wait until the other person was ready to let go because maybe they really needed a hug. You loved that about Pansy and it made her hugs all the more special.

You both abruptly pull apart when the guys walk in as they talk and yell obnoxiously loud. Astoria had jumped and fallen off the armchair she was curled up on. You and Pansy softly giggle before helping her up and sort her notes back out.

"Our girls! How are you three?" Theodore asks, the group of tall men surrounding you girls.

"I'm tired." Astoria grumbles, curling back up in the armchair, looping an arm around your waist.

You smile softly as her, continuing to play with her hair as she snuggled closer to you.

"We are alright. You boys should go get showered before dinner." Pansy says, a smile on her lips.

"Don't you want a hug, baby?" Blaise pouts.

"Not with how sweaty you are. I'm sure your Quidditch husband would love a hug right now though." She says, rolling her eyes playfully.

You giggle, shaking your head. Blaise and Pansy were such an adorable couple who bantered playfully.

"Girl, you can't pull that on me when you got your school wife." Blaise snorts.

"True. I did get pretty lucky with this fine piece of woman." Pansy says, winking at you as she kisses your cheek.

You flush red at her words, looking down at your lap as you smile shyly. Your hair served as a barrier against the boys' eyes who of course were teasing you about your reaction to Pansy.

You glance up at Enzo to see him staring at your knees with furrowed brows. Your cheeks flush red as you had fallen up the stairs earlier today and had nearly dragged Pansy down. You had some nasty bruises on your knees now.

"Stori, we should go get ready for dinner." You murmur.

"Noooooo." She grumbles, holding you tighter.

"Yesssss, I'm hungry and I'm teetering towards being hangry." You whine.

"And a hangry her is never good." Pansy snorts.

"Hey!" You exclaim with a pout.

"She isn't wrong, love. You are a tad bit scary when you're hangry." Lorenzo says, offering you one of his famous crooked smile.

"Meanie, your suppose to stand up for me." You grumble, crossing your arms over your chest as your pout.

Pansy snorts, rolling her eyes as she watches Enzo's cheeks flush red and he diverts his eyes to the carpet. Theodore clears his throat, catching Pansy's attention and he polity motions to your chest. Pansy snorts, loving how Theodore was always such a gentleman and it explained Enzo's reaction.

"Hun, you've got a few buttons undone and you're pushing your boobs up. I can see your bra too." Pansy whispers.

You flush red and immediately button up the buttons that came undone, struggling as the blouse was a tad bit tight, but you managed.

"Alright! We'll shower and head to dinner. Wait for us?" Theodore asks.

"Yep. Oh! I remembered what I was gonna ask this morning! I need one of your guys' extra jerseys for Friday. I may of forgotten your guys' custom made one for me at my house over break." You admit shyly.

"You can have mine, love." Enzo says softly and you smile thankfully.

"You're the best, Enz! I'd give you a hug, but you are a little sweaty." You say softly.

"She means a lot sweaty, but she's just being nice." Pansy says, her nose crinkling as she looks at the sweaty boys.

The boys all look at each other before grinning and tackling you girls into a hug as you girls squeal and beg for it to stop. You were being held against Enzo's sweaty chest and you look up with a pout as your nose crinkles slightly.

"That's not really nice, now we are all gonna have to shower." You grumble, your hands resting on his chest.

"Oh? What was that? You want more hugs?" He asks, the three of you girls getting passed between the guys once more before you ended up in his arms again.

"Uhhhh, you guys are such jerks." Astoria grumbles sleepily from her boyfriend's hold.

"She isn't wrong." Pansy huffs, shoving Theodore and Blaise away.

"Come on Y/n/n, let's go shower real quick." Astoria mumbles sleepily, holding a hand out to you.

You take her hand, looking at Pansy who takes your other outstretched hand.

"Together?" Theodore asks, his cheeks flushed red as the guys gape at you three.

"Oh yeah, we are gonna just lather each other up with soap and wash each other hairs." Pansy says sarcastically, winking at them as she smirks.

"We technically have showered all at once on a few occasions. I mean we are best friends and we've seen it all before." Astoria says with a shrug.

"And if we are going to get to dinner on time, I guess we'll have no choice." Pansy says, sighing with fake disappointment.

"Uh, can I watch?" Theodore asks before getting smacked by the other guys.

"Uh, girlfriend?" Blaise says in a duh tone.

"We are husbands, we can share a wife." He says.

"My girlfriend." Draco says in a duh tone.

"And no one can see Y/n/n." Mattheo says, his eyes flickering to Enzo.

You start to lead the girls out of the Common Room, heading towards your guys' shared dorm—even though it was just you a majority of the time in here.

"Alright, we have to study hard tonight guys. You boys have a Quidditch game tomorrow and if you don't pass your tests tomorrow, you'll be benched." Pansy says, walking in front of the boys who sat in a line.

You couldn't help, but giggle as Pansy was practically a General of sorts for these boys. She looks at you sharply and raises one of her perfectly sculpted eyebrows.

"You got something to say over there, pipsqueak? I believe if you fail the tests you get a week of detention." She says and you groan, sinking down into a seat next to Blaise.

"Ha!" Astoria says, pointing at you.

"If you fail, you'll be in detention for two weeks and excluded from any extra curricular as well." Pansy scolds.

Astoria sighs and sits down, the group zoning out as Pansy rants before leading them to the library where they take up four tables, the four most needed subjects to be studied for. You were sat next to Enzo who was entirely focused on his studies.

You studied for an hour and still have an hour and a half before dinner which was when this study session was going to be ended. You decide to rest your eyes for a moment, completely unaware of what could have gone wrong.

"Enzo? What are you doing in here?" You ask softly.

His hair was tousled, almost as if he had run his hand through it. His eyes weren't their normal soft and welcoming brown. There was a darkness to them, an edge to them you haven't seen in those eyes before.

"I can't stand it when you're so kind to those fools, love. Can't you see that they just want your attention because they think you're pretty? They don't actually need your help." He says.

His voice sounded an octave deeper as he takes slow deliberate steps towards you. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion.

"They just needed help, Enz. Why is it bothering you?" You ask softly, putting a hand on his arm.

"Because I see the way they look at you. They look at you the way I look at you. They want you, love. They want you like I want you." He murmurs, his eyes slowly looking over your face.

Your lips part in surprise as he wraps an arm around you, pulling you in. He leans down, kissing you hard. You kiss back softly, surprised by how soft his lips were despite the bruising force. His hands find your hips, slowly trailing down to the backs of your thighs. With a barely audible whisper of the word "jump", you do as your told, wrapping your legs around his waist.

His lips were on yours once more, climbing on the bed, slowly crawling up it before lying you down in the middle. He kisses down your jawline, unbuttoning your blouse with skilled fingers. He lifts you slightly, letting you shrug off the blouse as he reaches a hand behind you and undoes the clasp of your bra with two fingers.

"Enz." You whisper softly as he kisses down your neck.

Your fingers begin to undo the buttons to his button up, the two of you slowly working out of clothes. His pillow soft lips find yours once more and you tangle your fingers in his brown locks, holding him closer.

His lets a hand travel down between you both, groaning as he gathers your wetness on his fingers. You whimper, letting him toy with yours folds before pushing yourself in his hand as he pushes a finger inside of you.

"Enzo." You whimper, arching up to be closer to him.

"You're so pretty, baby." He murmurs, leaving marks behind on your neck.

You mind felt foggy, feeling as if you were in a state of shock because this was finally happening. This means he wants you too, right? He's had feelings all along?

"You gonna take my cock like a good girl, baby?" He murmurs, his lips brushing against yours as you looked up at him with your innocent eyes.

"Mhm, I will Enz." You whimper, squirming beneath him.

"You're my good girl, baby. My good and pretty girl." He murmurs as he slowly pushes his cock into you.

You whimper, your nails digging into his skin as you felt yourself stretch to accommodate him. His swollen lips find yours, swallowing your whimpers and soft moans.

He groans, his eyes fluttering closed as he rests his forehead against yours, letting you adjust.

"Oh Enz, you feel so good." You whimper, squirming once more.

He moves, leaving soft kisses on your neck as he starts to move his hips at a slow pace before he slowly picks up the pace. You moans grow louder and closer together as a coil of heat winds in your stomach.

"Such a pretty girl. Taking my cock so good. Mmm, you're such a good girl, baby. You're my good girl." He whispers.

"Your good girl, Enz, only yours." You whimpers

"That's right baby, only mine." He murmurs.

"I'm close, Enz." You whimper, your nails leaving behind bloody crescents in his arms.

"Cum for me, baby. Cum for me like the good girl you are." He murmurs.

"Enzo!" You cry out, coming around him.

He whimpers softly, feeling you squeeze around him. You whimper, feeling his warm seed coat your walls.

"Such a good girl, baby." He whispers into your hair.

"Need you, Enz." You whimper, your lips brushing against his cheek.

You jump awake, looking around slowly as your face flushed red. You realized everyone was still studying and you clench your thighs, feeling your soaked panties. You couldn't believe you just had a dream about your best friend—-right next to him.

"How was your nap, love? I promise I won't tell Pans. You needed it." He says, smiling softly at you.

"Uh, good. I...I'm going to go ahead and go a little early." You mumble.

"Oh? You okay? I can go with you." He says.

"No, that's okay. I-I just need some fresh air." You say.

"Oh...okay, see you later then?" He asks, smiling at you.

"Yeah, later." You whisper, grabbing your stuff and quickly leaving as you ignore Pansy's calls back.

"Here's Enzo's jersey. He said he tried to wait up for you, but you were taking too long." Pansy says, tossing it to you.

You chew at your lip nervously before you throw on the jersey. It was one from last year.

"I-uh-I dunno if I'm going to the game." You murmur.

"What!? This is the big game. At least one of the two. It's against Gryffindor!" She snaps.

"Easy." Astoria scolds.

"Yeah, you're right. I'm sorry." You mumble, scurrying away as she sighs and calls for you.

You hole yourself up in the bathroom until it's literally minutes until you had to leave. You slide the jersey back on, putting your hair in a ponytail with a green and silver ribbon. You slide your skirt on, tugging at it before rolling your eyes.

It was Astoria’s turn to do laundry this week which probably meant she forgot and did some spell which shrunk your guys' clothes—again. You slide your shoes on before you make your way to the field alone. You couldn't quite get to the girls because the stands were so packed, so you stood a few rows up. You huff as you feel someone keep tugging on your ponytail.

You ignore it and focus on the game that began. They were currently matching up and you saw Enzo looking at the stands. You smile awkwardly when he spots you and he waves so you do the same before you see his frown as he focuses on the person behind you who was still tugging on your ponytail. You huff and pull it away again, turning around to glare at them.

"Please stop it. I'm sure you wouldn't like it if I was pulling on your hair." You scold softly.

"Awww, she can't even stand her own ground. So soft spoken and she says please. God, you are a disgrace to the Slytherin house." He cackles.

He was a year above you and you frown at him, your eyes watering and you turn around, looking down as you cross your arms over your chest.

You ignore the tugging on your ponytail and try to focus on the game, Gryffindor was winning because Enzo kept missing hits as he was watching the stands. Your ribbon is pulled free and your hair was whipping everywhere because the wind. You turn around and try to snatch your ribbon back, but he holds it above your head.

"Give it back you jerk!" You exclaim, trying to grab it.

"God, you are pathetic. Who wears ribbons in their hair? You act like a child all the time and hide around those jerks who think they run the Slytherin house." He laughs.

He elbows you when you managed to get a hold on it. This was your favorite ribbon. It was from Enzo a few years back. You stumble and fall down. One of the first year girls help you up, offering you a sad smile.

"And Berkshire is heading for the stands along with the Riddle twins. It seems that...Anderson is picking on Y/l/n." Neville announces.

"Give it back to her, Anderson." Enzo says.

"And leave her alone or we'll punch your face in." Mattheo warns.

"Pathetic." Anderson hisses at you, giving you the ribbon.

"What did he say, love?" Enzo asks.

You shake your head, looking away.

"Arms up." Mattheo says.

Your eyebrows furrow, but you do as he says. Both he and Tom grab a hand and lift you slightly where you feet were a few inches off the ground, to the front row with Pansy and Astoria to ensure Anderson won't bother you again. Pansy takes your ribbon and gently gathers your hair into a ponytail before tying it. Enzo was a lot more focused on the second half of the game and somehow Slytherin managed to win.

You knew there was an elaborate party planned. You were feeling a bit insecure about you place with your friends after Anderson, so you branched off from the girls who were waiting for their boyfriends. You reach your dorm, curling into a ball on your bed and falling asleep.

You were sitting in the Common Room with the girls again. It was a little over a week since the big win against Gryffindor. The boys were practicing for their next match even though it was Saturday.

You had managed to avoid Enzo since the game against Gryffindor and somehow managed the same at yesterday's game. You managed to find an excuse as to why you couldn't do movie night last week. You tried to find a way to distance yourselves from the girls, the thing Anderson said really bothered you, but Pansy wasn't having it.

"What's going on with you? You've been acting strange." She notes, closing her book.

Astoria looks up from her notes and focuses on the conversation. You frown, playing with the hem of your skirt and sigh.

"Am I...childish?" You ask.

"What? No! Why would you think that?" She asks.

"Anderson said something about me being childish and that I hide around your guys." You mumble.

"Anderson is an asshole. You aren't childish. We love you the way you are and you don't hide around us. You are equally as apart of our group. No one hides." She says, smiling at you.

"Okay." You murmur, smiling slightly.

"Now, what's going on with you and Enz? You've been avoiding him." She says.

"Nothings going on. I haven't been avoiding him." You say quickly.

"You have. He's been real upset about it. He thinks he did something wrong. You canceled on movie night with him last week and you owled him to tell him you didn't think you'd be able to do it tonight. You've got nothing to do and we know that, so what's up?" Astoria asks.

"I...I realized that after these past few weeks that those feelings I've grown to develop for Enz haven't gone anyway. They are getting stronger. I...have you guys ever had a dream about one of the guys?" You ask.

"No, I can't say I have." Astoria says.

"I have. I used to have dreams about Blaise and I before we got together." Pansy says with a grin.

"I've had a dream about all three of you." Mattheo says.

"Same." Theodore says, the pair walking in together

"Where's the others?" Astoria asks.

"Showering. Don't worry." Theodore says.

"Wait...you had a dream about Enz, didn't you?" Astoria asks in shock as she looks back at you.

You nod, your cheeks flushing red as you use your hair as a shield to hide from the four sets of shocked eyes.

"Enz has been torn up this past week. He thinks you hate him or something." Mattheo says.

"Turns out you fancy him! Wait until he hears this." Theodore laughs.

"Tone it done, boys. No one is saying anything. This is her business. Honey, I think it's time you talk with Enz. You're hurting not only him, but yourself by keeping this distance between you guys. It's obvious your feelings for him are growing. It's time you talk about it. Maybe he feels the same." Pansy says softly.

"No. It's fine. Maybe if I ignore it long enough it'll go away. I don't wanna lose him because he doesn't feel the same, Pans. I can't tell him." You say, shaking your head as you pull your knees to your chest.

"Honey, you need to say something." She says softly.

"No. It's fine. It'll be fine. I've been avoiding him, yes, but I'll put an end to that today. I...I should go get snacks for the movie night. Maybe make two pallets...no, he'll still think he's done something wrong if we aren't cuddling like normal." You mumble, thinking more to yourself than talking to your friends who felt bad for you.

"Practice was great!" Enzo exclaims, walking in with his hair dripping wet.

You were completely oblivious as you mumbled to yourself about different snacks and film titles, but then since you have to go out and get the snacks, you started to make a list in your head of some other things you needed.

"Is she okay?" Enzo asks quietly as he looks over you.

"I believe she's just making a list of items she's gonna grab when she heads into town real quick. See, snacks, clothes because Astoria shrunk ours again—wait! Astoria! You shrunk our clothes again!" Pansy exclaims.

"I didn't mean to!" She exclaims.

You get up, heading to your dorm, unaware that Enzo was following you. You sit at your desk and start to make a list.

"Love, can we talk?" He asks.

"Argh!" You exclaim, you hand knocking the ink pot over.

You mumble curses as you hurry to clean it up before turning to Enzo with a sheepish smile. He smiles slightly.

"O-Of course, sorry. I've been kinda in my head all day today." You admit shyly.

"Is something bothering you?" He asks.

"No, no, of course not. What do you wanna talk about?" You ask.

"Why have you been avoiding me?" He asks.

"I haven't been avoiding you, Enz. I've just been a tad bit busy is all." You say, smiling softly at him.

"So you have time for our movie night tonight?" He asks.

"Mhm. I just have to grab snacks. Anything you want?" You say.

"Just you, love." He says cheekily, winking at you.

"I-oh-well I'm getting snacks anyway. I have to get me some new clothes again anyway." You say shyly.

"You could just wear my shirts...or nothing, but whatever suits your boat, love." He says, smiling as he leaves.

Pansy walks in with raised brows and she gives you a grin when she sees your dropped jaw.

"I believe Enz just suggested he rather see me in his clothes or naked." You mumble.

"Okay...Enz is here, check...snacks is a check, as are the drinks...extra blankets is a check...I feel like I'm forgetting something. Am I forgetting something?" You ask as you look back at your list.

Enzo was lying on your bed, his arms behind his head as he watched you pace with your clipboard and quill.

"You right next to me." He says and your cheeks flush red.

"Enz, I'm being serious. Something is missing. Or am I going bonkers?" You ask.

"In my eyes you've always been a bit bonkers, but in the cutest most adorable way you can be bonkers. Nothing is missing though. I think you're overthinking per usual." He says.

"Jerk." You grumble.

You take your sweater off, leaving you in a white tank top and your skirt. You carefully climb onto the bed, careful not to flash him as Astoria unfortunately shrunk your guys' underwear as well and Enzo talked you out of clothes shopping today as he wanted to watch two films.

You start the movie, bringing the blankets up more as you were cold.

"Why are you so far away? Get over here, love." He says.

You scooch over slowly until he rolls his eyes and wraps his arm around you, pulling you closer to him. You sigh softly, resting your head on his shoulder and resting a hand above his heart. He rubs circles on your exposed side, slowly going higher. It wasn't strange for him to do this. Enzo was a very touchy person when it came to showing his affection.

"What was your dream about?" He asks.

"What?" You mumble confused.

"Your dream about me. You were talking about it earlier today. What was it that I was doing to you?" He asks.

"Oh...you heard about that...which means you heard everything after that too." You whisper as your nerves begin to start.

You go to get up, but he rolls over so that you're beneath him. You look up at him with wide eyes.

"You aren't going anywhere, pretty girl. We are going to talk about this." He says seriously.

"I-uh-oh." You splutter, your cheeks flushed red as your heart races.

"Is it hard to believe I like you too, love? I thought I had been making it pretty obvious." He mumbles, his eyes flickering over your face.

"You like me?" You squeak.

"Mhm, quite a bit. I never thought you'd like me, but then I overheard the conversation earlier and it was like a new hope for me." He admits.

"Enz...I never would've thought you would like me. I just thought you saw me as your best friend." You admit shyly.

"You'll always be my best friend, love. But, now we can be more too." He admits.

Your eyes flicker to his lips, wondering if they are as soft as they were in your dream. His eyes darken, catching where your eyes were focused. He leans down, kissing your lips softly. You hum softly as you kiss back, tangling your fingers in his hair.

He trails a hand between you both, ghosting over your stomach before trailing down your thigh. You whimper as he moves his hand back up your thigh, moving it beneath your skirt. You try to squeeze your legs close, but he was in between your legs.

His fingers brush against your wet folds as he pulls away with a grunt. His eyes find yours and you flush red under his intense gaze.

"No panties?" He asks.

"N-No, Stori shrunk our clothes again." You whisper.

"Such a dirty girl, aren't you?" He murmurs, leaning down and kissing the column of your neck.

You let a shaky breath out as your eyes fluttered closed. You push yourself down closer to his hand that was between your legs. You whine softly as he rubs the sensitive bundle of nerves.

"Enzo, please." You plead, squirming beneath him.

"So impatient, baby." He murmurs, nipping at your neck and eliciting a gasp from you.

Before you could scold him to hurry up, he was working his pants off. Your fingers went to his loosely buttoned dress shirt where you begin to unbutton it. He shrugs it off after kicking his boxers and pants off.

He starts to pull your skirt down as you stare at his hard cock that was thick and long, a vein bulging out the side of it, the head an angry red and oozing precum.

You sit up and take off your tank top, before lying back down. He hovers above you, kissing your lips so softly as he praises you and calls you beautiful as he sinks into you. You arch up into him, your nails dragging down his back as your walls stretch to accommodate him.

"Enzo!" You moan, his lips swallowing the sweet sound.

"Your alright baby, you're doing so good. Taking my cock like the little cock slut you are, aren't you?" He murmurs into your ear.

You clench around him, the dirty name making something twist inside of you as you let a breathy moan out. You never expected Enzo to say such dirty things.

"Enz!" You cry, arching your back off the bed as his thrusts speed up.

You squirm, feeling the overwhelming pressure building. He holds your hips, his teeth leaving marks all over your skin, leaving his claim. He wanted everyone to know that you were his. Now that he had you, there was no letting go.

"That's it baby, keep taking my cock like a good girl. You feel so good around my cock, so fucking tight." He says, his voice deeper—huskier.

You wished he'd keep quiet just for the fact that hearing him like that—was because of you and that made a whole new feeling wash over you.

His lips slant over yours, the two of your lips moving in sync. You follow his lead, sinking back further into the bed and he follows, deepening the kiss. Your hands get lost in his hair as he bites your bottom lip, swallowing your whimper as he deepens the kiss once more.

His tongue glides across your bottom lip, before teeth were clashing as the kiss got too intense. You both pull away, chests heaving as you both tried to catch your breath.

"Thank you, Pansy. I really appreciate it." You say, smiling softly as she helped cover all the hickeys.

"I get it. Eventually, he'll get a little control over himself. The boys, especially our boys, are all about staking their claim. I don't get it entirely either, but if it helps them sleep at night, so be it." She says, laughing softly and you join her.

You both walk to breakfast, getting lost in your guys' normal conversation. You were unaware of Enzo's eyes on you as you walked in.

His lips part, seeing you wearing an olive green sundress that ended a little above mid thigh. Your hair was down and the smile on your face lit up the whole room.

"You're staring." Theodore chuckles.

"Fuck, she's so hot...wait a damn minute. One, she covered her hickeys and two, there's over a seventy five percent chance that if she moves the wrong way in that dress she will flash someone." Enzo says, sitting up straighter.

"Look...I learned the hard way, but you've just got to trust her. Don't make the mistakes I did and make the foundation rocky in the beginning." Blaise says.

He sighs, looking at his plate as you and Pansy take a seat. He looks up and has to take a deep breath. He hated how much cleavage was on show, because he knew people would see you like this.

You looked beautiful.

But, he hated the idea of other men seeing you this way. He remembered his plan and reached beneath the table for the bouquet of flowers. Your lips part as he hands you the assortment of flowers.

"Will you be my girlfriend, Y/n/n?" He asks, his cheeks turning a light shade of pink as the boys whoop and tease him.

You smile and look at him like he was the only man in the world—a look that made him melt.

"I'd love to, Enz." You say softly.

The whole table whoops louder before being quieted by Professor Snape. You smile at Enzo, feeling really good about this.

#masterlist #harry potter universe #angst #mrsriddles-blog #mrsriddles-blogunhinged #mrsriddles-blogisblogging #request #lorenzo betkshire oneshot #lorenzo berkshire x female reader #lorenzo berkshire fanfic #lorenzo berkshire x you #lorenzo berkshire fluff #lorenzo berkshire imagine #lorenzo berkshire x reader #lorenzo berkshire smut #lorenzo berkshire #enzo berkshire x reader #enzo berkshire #enzo berkshire x you

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sunkissedscribbles · 5 months ago

Text

The Beach

pairing: lorenzo berkshire x poet!mentally ill!reader

genre: angst, a wee bit of fluff

tw: mental health issues, swearing

word count: 2008

summary: enzo comforts you when having a mentally rough period

a/n: my soul needed this one. i don't really want to label reader's mental state because in my mind bpd was the starting point but I think it would fit under the terms of depression as well, that's why I haven't specified it in the pairing (and because i'm not a specialist). also, it contains one of my poems I have not yet posted on my main.

playlist: The Beach - The Neighbourhood

masterlist

dividers by @chachachannah

It hasn’t even been a month since the new school year started, only two weeks. Two weeks got you utterly exhausted, and even that was an understatement. It felt like you had forgotten to talk, taking a little too long to answer, to process things – to think. Your head felt heavy with emptiness, your entire body ached as it didn’t seem to be able to release stress, holding onto it deep in your bones, low in your back.

It wasn’t just fatigue, it was emotional and mental exhaustion that made you want to lie in bed all day, yet your sensible side made you get up every day and go to your classes.

Those damn lessons.

You went to all of them, tried to siphon in as much of each subject as you could but your mind was elsewhere all the time.

At how sick you were.

At how tired you were.

And in the afternoons you did nothing other than lie in bed, trying to convince your mind that it was okay, there was nothing wrong with you, and that you needed to study.

Just five more minutes.

Oops, It’s been ten minutes ago.

Anyway.

You’re gonna start studying at next-hour-o’clock.

You didn’t.

At dinner you were only pushing your relatively small portion of food back and forth on your plate, your mind foggy with very negative thoughts as the chatter of your friends next to you blurred into an indistinctive mess of different voices over your head.

You were silent,

and lethargic,

all the time.

It was after dinners when you lay in bed, hoping this was a phase or something you’d eventually get over. But in the back of your mind, you knew you wouldn’t.

And you didn’t really want to, either – you felt so down, so numb that you felt like you couldn’t move in the direction of getting better.

Not properly.

Not permanently.

Lying there, alone, you couldn’t think of anything better than causing your own pain, physically – at least you’d feel something, wouldn’t you? Even if it’d hurt – maybe you’d deserve it. Maybe you’d deserve it because you had spent your entire summer not doing anything valuable, pushed down these feelings of despair, hurt, pain, depression. You didn’t study saying you couldn’t pay attention and you were tired – of course you were when you kept staying up endlessly, only getting mere hours of sleep and not eating enough.

Maybe you did deserve to feel this way.

You missed the affection, just a hug at least, from your friends. But you have been so withdrawn from them and they were all beating around the bush, not knowing how to corner the question of your visibly deteriorating mental health.

It was Enzo though, who paid the most attention to you; he knew you like the palm of his hand, even if you hadn’t realised it. He cared about you, probably more than he should’ve. He’d known all your mood swings, and even when you had better days, he knew you were going to be just as down, if not even worse in just a matter of days.

He couldn’t bear seeing you like this, he missed the carefree, loving Y/N you were. He missed his Y/N. Every word you spoke felt like a dagger to his heart as your tone only made it obvious just how tired and ill you were. Every time he saw you scribbling into your notebook he knew contained your poetry his heart ached, even when it was just two words.

He knew you were starting to give it all up.

Life.

You didn’t cry, and that was obvious – you’ve never been one to cry much or cry immediately when something relatively bad happened, or when it was something that you took too personally, nor when one of the bandages you thought were securely protecting your wounds were ripped off, not suddenly but slowly to hurt even more as it stuck to the surface of your heart. No, you took it, held yourself together, trying to maintain the facade you built so well and perfected over the years of suffering from whatever game your mind was playing with you.

Because the more people knowing you’re hurt the more able to hurt you.

Because the more pain you show the less people will think of you.

Because the more you trust the more leaving you and hurting you in the end, the more betraying you.

You were more on the bottling-up side, but the bottle always spilt in the end when it couldn’t hold more.

More suffering, more floating, more silence, more pain.

So, two weeks after your seventh and last year at Hogwarts had started, here you were, writing a new poem in the Astronomy Tower.

I find nirvana; I’ll exist in eternal peace, you wrote the last two lines, the cool autumn breeze in your hair.

“Y/N?” Enzo’s voice echoed through your ears, and closing your notebook, you looked up at him. This was the day the bottle broke – you’ve been crying before writing your poem.

Startled by your red eyes, he looked at you with concern. “Y/N, were you crying?” he immediately crouched down in front of you, and as he took your face in his palms gently, you could feel the dam break again. You didn’t like this. No, you couldn’t be crying in front of him.

“Just, uh, tired,” you answered in a low tone, trying to convince him – or yourself, rather.

He looks down at the notebook and shakes his head, “Liar. Let me see.”

You hesitated – how could you possibly show him what you were feeling? It took you weeks to be able to put it into words, and it’s not too happy. “Please,” he asked softly, one hand caressing your cheek, the other reaching down for the notebook in your lap. And you let him, knowing he’d get what he wanted anyway.

You saw his facial muscles twitch and tense up as he read its title, his hand falling off your face: ‘goodbye.’

His eyebrows knotted in a frown at first, glancing up at your once lively eyes, now missing the bright, pure shine they used to have.

You watched as his expression became sad and even more concerned as he breezed through your lines written.

these lines; I plan them to be the last ones I write and speak, so that I can be free in a world where pain doesn’t exist, where no clouds disfigure the sky. I go tonight; I don’t regret and don’t look back, I’m not afraid to leave anymore, I give up the fight, I end the war. i lie down tonight and drift to sleep, I unite with nature forever, and release the built-up hurt and pain. I find nirvana; I’ll exist in eternal peace.

“Y/N, you–” he shook his head as he lifted his head again, meeting your eyes. But you, you couldn’t look into his, you felt like you’d break immediately. You were afraid of what emotion would look back at you. Hurt? Sadness? Disappointment? Or would he look at you differently?

“I’m sorry,” you muttered, shaking your head, keeping it hanging low.

He cupped your face again to make you meet his gaze, gently yet forcefully tilting your head upwards. His eyes, as always had that caring look in them, mixing with concern, and a sense of fear that he’d lose you washed over him.

He’d lose you, before it was nature’s job to cross your path together, before he could even confess to you.

“...Why haven’t you told me?” he asked in a low, broken voice. Fuck, he couldn’t lose you.

You couldn’t answer him at first – how could you tell him that you’d been feeling like shit for weeks again? That the longer you’re alive the less you’re living? The more days you survive the more of your want to live, and the more of your shine you lose. you took a long breath and with a tremble tugging at your lips, you shook your head while a stray fat tear rolled down your cheek.

“Y/N, darling…” he pulled you in for a hug and as his arms enveloped you tightly, your salty tears started raining down your cheeks again, lading on the fabric of his hoodie.

“I’m sick…” you sob into his chest, not able to hold anything back anymore, not in front of him as your fists clutch the fabric on his back. “And I’m tired too.”

You weren’t fireproof, that was for a fact, and he knew it too, probably better than anyone. You didn’t want to burn in your own flames but you felt it, felt it burning you and spread over onto him, burning him too. You were holding on to him for dear life, hoping your own miserable state of mind wouldn’t murder you.

“...I hope I don’t burden you,” you trembled against his body and he held you tighter.

“You could never,” he assured you, shaking his head. “Never, honey. You’re not a burden.”

You didn’t need to say much, he’d known almost everything already. He just held you tight against him, as if you could just slip away and disappear if he wouldn’t – and the truth is, you could’ve, especially in this state. And you kept gripping his hoodie as you slowly calmed down in his arms, while his heartbeat gave yours a soothing rhythm to follow.

You were slowly coming to your senses that felt numb all this time – his cologne was a nice mix of sandalwood and citrus which filled your nostrils and made you feel at home, even more at ease, his touch warm and soothing under your sweater, rubbing your skin through the thin layer of your shirt, his voice sending your mind into a state of contentment as he kept whispering sweet nothings into your ear, and yet again, you couldn’t help but wonder what his lips would taste like. You’d been friends for a long time and you didn’t want to ruin the relationship you two have built up over the years.

Then the three little words left his lips involuntarily; “I love you.”

You felt him stiffen against you as the realisation that he indeed said that out loud hit him, and coming down from your surprise, and trying to control your rapid heartbeat, you lift your head from his chest and meet his eyes. How could he love an emotional wreck like you?

“Y-you what?” you asked as if you hadn’t heard it right.

He gulped, trying to swallow his fear of rejection before repeating his words, “I said I loved you,” he led his hands onto your waist under your sweater as you pulled back slightly to look into his eyes, but kept drawing you in lightly.

Without any further hesitation, you crashed your lips against his, afraid this was only a dream, hence wanting to enjoy every second of it and take it to the fullest.

His lips were so soft and moved so in sync with yours, and you wanted nothing more than to stay like that forever, wrapped in his embrace, with your lips connected, your tongues dancing around, making your mouths a ballroom, available for only them.

You pulled back just to come up for air and to clarify one thing. “I love you too.”

Your words sent a jolt of electricity and happiness down his spine, and he leaned his forehead against yours before reassuringly whispering to you, “I’m not leaving. We’re in this together and you can count on me, anytime, anywhere. Just- don’t shut me out. Please… I need you here with me.”

You nodded against his skin and let out a heavy sigh. You knew it would be a long way, a really deep dive. But until it was him swimming with you it didn’t matter that you were out in the open. It wasn’t a sudden light, a newfound wave of relief taking you out to the shore, but the beach seemed closer than ever.

tag list: @inksoakedparchment @mqstermindswift @reys-letters @girllblogging777 @myysunshine @yelanare

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missyscorner · 30 days ago

Text

𝘊𝘢𝘴𝘶𝘢𝘭 — 𝘓𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘻𝘰 𝘉.

𝘓𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘻𝘰 𝘉𝘦𝘳𝘬𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘳𝘦 𝘹 𝘍𝘦𝘮!𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

Synopsis: Lorenzo was never big on relationships; he had only ever been in one — one which resulted in heartbreak and him sulking in his room for a month. Since then, he’s vowed to only have meaningless sex with girls, nothing more. When the two of you have sex one drunken night, you agree to have sex with no attachments. But one of you wants more.

Warnings: Suggestive content (no actual smut), vulgar language, very short, there’s one mention of Y/n (I’m so sorry), dialogue-heavy, not proofread, angst, & no happy ending.

Songs: Casual by Chappell Roan, Kaleidoscope by Chappell Roan, Somethin’ Stupid by Frank Sinatra & Nancy Sinatra, & Dealer by Lana Del Rey.

A/N: Hello! This is the first time I’m actually posting something I’ve written so I hope it’s not too much of a letdown. It was written on a whim so please ignore any inconsistencies or repetitive words.

There’s chatter scattered throughout the Slytherin common room, most of it coming from the group of boys sprawled out on the velvet green sofa — most of it coming from Draco complaining about Harry. You weren’t paying much attention to him, though. Your eyes were glued on Lorenzo staring at you with a sly grin.

When Draco had finished his monologue on his supposed enemy, Theodore was done with three missing assignments in Transfiguration, and Blaise had counted all the ice in his glass twenty-two separate times. You, however, had been gone the moment his speech had hit the ten-minute mark. As much as you loved Draco, you could not bear to listen to him talk for another moment. So, instead, you stood in front of your mirror, pinning your hair up. You wore a long, flowy, cream-colored nightgown, one that cascaded down your body so, very elegantly.

“Cute.” You hear the familiar voice echo from behind you, a small smile plays on your lips as you see Lorenzo’s reflection locking the door. Then, you feel his arms wrap tightly around your waist.

“You’re early,” you whisper, to which he only groans against your neck in response. “You should really start knocking, as well.”

“Missed you.” He leaves a feather-like kiss on the exposed skin of your shoulder, ignoring your lecture.

A light pink flushes across your cheeks, and his hand moves lower. You feel his breath fan against your collarbone, making you instinctively close your eyes.

“You were looking at me quite a bit today, I think you may need to tone it down, Enz. The others may start suspecting something.” Your voice is breathy, but you can’t help it. Not when his hands touch you like they are.

“Would that be a bad thing?” He pulls away, moving his hands to your lower back, gently leading you to your bed.

The mattress molds beneath your body, and his lips meet yours. The kiss is soft, it tastes like coffee and honey. It almost takes away from the harsh reality of the situation — you’re lying in bed with a man who does not feel anything for you. The kiss is cruel, it tastes bitter and deceitful.

You pull away, “Enzo, stop.”

He does. His body moves away from yours.

“Are you okay?” He asks, almost as if panicked.

“Yeah.” Lie. “I just — um, I’m not really feeling it, y’know?” Liar.

“Oh.” He swallows, “Right. I’ll be on my way, then.”

You watch him leave, and a pit forms in your stomach. It resides there for the rest of the night.

The next day, you sit in the courtyard, eyes scanning the words of your book, Lorenzo quietly slides onto the bench next to you.

“Whatcha’ doing?” He looks over your shoulder, startling you slightly.

“Gods — you scared me.” You hear a mumbled apology, closing your book. “What do you want?”

“Why do you always assume I want something? What if I just wanted to say hi to my favorite girl?”

“It’s never just ‘saying hi’ with you, Lorenzo.” There’s a bite in your tone.

“Are you mad at me or something?”

This isn’t fair to him, being mean because he doesn’t want you isn’t fair. You agreed to this, you agreed to emotionless sex; it isn’t his fault it’s not emotionless for you anymore. It’s not his fault he looks at you with the softest eyes, it’s not his fault he touches you so sweetly, it’s not his fault you cling to every moment with him and analyze every second of it. It’s not his fault.

“No, sorry. I’ve just had a rough day, not your fault.” You force a friendly smile.

“Oh. Maybe I can cheer you up, then.” He says, “I have something I want to show you at sunset. I’ll come find you.”

His lips meet your forehead, placing a gentle kiss. Asshole.

You should’ve said no to him, told him to fuck off, and ended things. You would’ve said no if you had gotten the chance to, if he hadn’t kissed your forehead — you probably would’ve said no. Maybe. Definitely. No. No, you wouldn’t have. As much as you resent him for it, he has you in his pocket; from that first night with him, he’s had you in his pocket. He knows that, too.

Three soft knocks fall at your door, opening it, you see Lorenzo standing opposite of you. He’s wearing medium-wash jeans and a plain white tee, his hair is wet and perfectly messy.

“Hey,” his voice is raspier than usual.

“Hi.” You lock the door behind you, and his hand intertwines with yours. “So, where are we going?”

“It’s a secret, my dear. But I can tell you, you’re going to think it’s beautiful.”

“You’re so sure of yourself.”

He snorts in response, “That’s because I know you, and I know you’ll like it. You’re easily impressed.”

“Fuck you.” You roll your eyes.

“Right now? In the middle of the corridor? Scandalous.” He fakes a gasp, and your cheeks taint a light pink.

He leads you out of the castle and to a secluded spot of the Black Lake, trees overlook the area, and the setting sun reflects off the water most beautifully.

“Take off your dress.” His voice sounds from behind you.

“Excuse me?”

“No, I meant — we’re going swimming — not… that.”

“Enzo, I’m not getting in that water. It’s cold out.” You turn around to see him already undressing.

“It’s fine.” He stands shirtless in his boxers, “And I promise if you get hypothermia or drown or something, I’ll save you.” He tucks a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

“From hypothermia?” You raise an eyebrow, crossing your arms.

“Yup. I’ll warm you up with my body heat.” He promises.

“That’s not how it works.”

“Whatever,” he drags his word out, “You’re being too critical. I’m getting in, you can follow if you’d like.” Another forehead kiss.

A sigh escapes your lip as he carefully treads into the water, ultimately, you end up unzipping your dress, leaving you in your underwear. You go after him.

“See? It’s not bad.” His hand grabs yours, helping you in. Don’t read into it, he’s just being kind.

“No, it’s fucking horrible.” Your torso is now engulfed by the cold water.

“Give it a minute, baby, your body will adjust to the temperature.”

In moments like this, you hate Lorenzo. You hate how much influence over you, you hate how you’re ready to agree to anything he says; you think, maybe if you’re willing enough it’ll change how he feels about you.

Your body finally acclimates to the water, it’s slightly more bearable now. Lorenzo guides you further into the water, keeping a firm arm around your waist. Abruptly, he pulls you under, then, you feel his lips on yours. You get a warm feeling in your tummy, it makes your head go fuzzy, and you know it’s time to pull away. Yet, your lips stay on his for a second longer before you swim to the surface for air, Lorenzo follows soon after.

“You asshole, I could’ve drowned!” You smack his chest, water splashing the both of you.

“I wouldn’t have let you drown, put some faith in me.” He chuckles, rolling his eyes.

You sigh, returning to the bay. His voice calls after you, then, you hear him swim back as well. You’re already halfway done with zipping up your dress by the time he gets to you. Presumably, he takes the hint because he’s now putting his jeans back on. However, with his back facing you, you notice something: red scratches. You hadn’t had sex in a week and a half.

“What are those?” You question.

“What are what?” He turns around, genuine confusion painted on his face.

“Those. The scratches.”

“Oh, right. Um, just some girl. Don’t worry about it.” Just some girl? Is that how he speaks of you when you’re not around — when another girl asks where he got the marks on his back?

“Really?” He doesn't owe you loyalty, you think, no, but he owes you decency. “You’ve been seeing other girls?”

“Yeah.” He shrugs, then notices your expression. “You can’t seriously be angry. I didn’t think it was a big deal.”

“Obviously, it’s a big deal.”

“Truly, it is not. You’re overreacting.”

“So, you’d be okay with me sleeping around with other men?” Silence. “Exactly.”

“Don’t act like you didn’t agree to this. You were perfectly fine with us just fucking each other a few month ago.” His voice raises slightly.

“Well, I don’t want to ‘just fuck’ anymore, Lorenzo!” A long pause of quiet surrounds the two of you.

“Y/n, you know — you know I can’t do that.”

“I know.”

“I’m sorry.”

Stillness.

“We probably should stop this,” you suggest.

“Probably.”

Swallowing harshly, you put on your shoes. He hugs you for what you assume to be the last time, kissing the top of your head.

“If it’s any consolation, I love you. I just don’t think a relationship with me would be the best thing for you, lovely. I’ve got a lot of shit to work through before I’d be good for anyone, and you, especially, don’t deserve to be subjected to that.” His voice cracks, “You deserve someone with the ability to commit and love you to the fullest extent. I wish that person could be me, but I know that I’d hurt you, and I refuse to do that.”

Looking up at him, you see a tear fall from his eye. Then, you feel a tear fall from your own. His hand wipes your dampened cheeks dry, and he whispers delicate comforts. It’s cruel, the way he makes you cry and then wipes it all away.

You move back, taking in his soft features for the last time before walking away. He doesn’t offer to walk you back, he doesn’t say goodbye, he lets you go. Sobbing, you walk back to the castle. Sobbing, you make it to your dorm. Sobbing, you accept that you’ll never be in his arms again, gently brushing through his hair with your fingers, or counting his light freckles. You let that knowledge rip you apart from the inside out. It hurts, but it’s out of your control.

Divider Creds: @milklemondrop

#✎ missy writes #lorenzo berkshire #lorenzo berkshire x reader #lorenzo berkshire x you #lorenzo berkshire oneshot #lorenzo berkshire x female reader #lorenzo berkshire angst #lorenzo berkshire imagine #enzo berkshire x reader #enzo berkshire x you #enzo berkshire #harry potter #theodore nott #draco malfoy #blaise zabini #mattheo riddle #slytherin #slytherin boys

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dwindlinghaze · 2 months ago

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In The Orbit

(lorenzo berkshire x reader)

summary: Enzo found himself drawn to the picture perfect slytherin.

contents: fluff, strangers to friends, reader is described as being fashionable, long haired, and loves pink. she/her pronouns. use of y/n twice ?

　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

Lorenzo Berkshire wasn’t sure how it started. One minute, he was idly listening to Blaise go on about some pure-blood event in the Slytherin common room, and the next, he was utterly distracted by someone he hadn’t expected to see. Her presence was a magnet for attention. She had always been a name that floated around the elite pure-blood circles, but until now, she had just been a name to him.

But today, as she sat with Daphne Greengrass, her appearance like a perfectly composed daydream, something about her drew Enzo in. She wasn’t like anyone he had ever met before.

She was all soft elegance, yet there was something undeniably sharp about her. Like a perfectly cut gemstone—beautiful from a distance but capable of cutting you if you didn’t handle her carefully. She wore pastels, mostly pinks, with delicate silks that made her stand out against the darker tones of their Slytherin surroundings. Her long, straight hair fell in silky waves around her shoulders, and when she smiled, it was the kind of smile that could light up a room. She carried herself with the kind of effortless grace that would make anyone believe she lived on a stage.

And then there was that headband. A signature touch, something that matched her carefully curated outfits but also gave her an edge of confidence. She was beautiful. And she was completely out of reach.

Lorenzo had heard about her before, mostly through Daphne. But he had never really noticed her until Blaise started getting close to Daphne. And where Daphne went, she followed, with her perfect posture, captivating presence, and undeniable magnetism.

Blaise was the one to really make the connection. He and Daphne had been spending a lot of time together lately, and as Daphne’s best friend, she naturally tagged along. It wasn’t like she was clingy—far from it. She had her own circle, her own followers, but when Blaise invited Daphne to a group hang in the common room one evening, she joined without hesitation.

Lorenzo was used to girls like Daphne and Pansy. Girls who were sharp, intelligent, and played the social games of Slytherin well. But she was a different kind of intimidating. She wasn’t brash or confrontational. She didn’t need to be. Everything about her—from the way she walked, to the way she smiled sweetly at her friends, to the way she controlled conversations with the lightest touch—was intentional. She didn’t need to raise her voice to be heard, didn’t need to posture to assert her dominance.

And it fascinated Enzo more than he cared to admit.

It was a few weeks later, during one of their usual Hogsmeade weekends, that Enzo really got to talk to her. Blaise had invited Daphne to join them for butterbeer at The Three Broomsticks, and naturally, she had tagged along. Enzo, who was usually cool and composed around girls, found himself oddly… awkward around her. It wasn’t that she was intimidating—okay, she was, a little—but it was more the way she seemed so effortlessly charming. Like she could control the entire room with a single glance and never break a sweat.

As the group gathered at their usual table in the bustling pub, Enzo found himself sitting next to her for the first time. Blaise and Daphne were wrapped up in their own conversation, and Theo was arguing with Pansy about something inconsequential. Meanwhile, she sat there, sipping her butterbeer in her signature pink coat with a quiet confidence that only made her more intriguing.

For a few moments, Enzo tried to figure out what to say. He wasn’t normally this tongue-tied around girls. He was keenly aware of her every movement—the way her lips curved slightly as she listened to Daphne talk, the soft laugh she let out when Theo said something particularly ridiculous. She was captivating, and he was hooked before he even realized it.

“So, Blaise tells me you’re Daphne’s best friend,” Enzo said, leaning back casually, trying to sound nonchalant. “How did that happen?”

She turned to him, her eyes gleaming with amusement. “Is that your way of asking how a girl like me ended up with a friend like Daphne?” Her tone was playful, but there was a spark of something sharper beneath it—like she was daring him to slip up.

Enzo smiled, feeling a little more at ease now that he’d gotten her to engage. “I’d say it’s more curiosity. You don’t exactly blend in, you know.”

She raised an eyebrow, clearly pleased with the compliment. “Good. Blending in has never been my style.”

“That’s obvious.” He chuckled, glancing at her perfectly styled outfit. “You’re not like the others around here. More… pink.”

She laughed softly, her smile as dazzling as ever. “I get that a lot. But just because I wear pink doesn’t mean I’m not capable of keeping up with this lot.”

Enzo grinned. “I don’t doubt that.”

Their conversation flowed surprisingly easily after that. They talked about the usual—classes, upcoming Quidditch matches, even the occasional gossip—but the whole time, Enzo found himself more and more drawn to her energy. She was quick-witted, charming, and she had a way of making every conversation feel light and effortless, even when it turned into playful banter. But beneath the surface, there was a sharpness—a quiet control that made her even more fascinating.

At one point, Daphne leaned over, grinning as she nudged the girl. “What’s this? Lorenzo finally decided to talk to you?”

She tilted her head, her expression amused. “Seems like it.” She glanced back at Enzo, her lips curling into a playful smile. “I was wondering when he would.”

Over the next few weeks, Enzo found himself looking for excuses to spend more time with her. He didn’t push too hard—she wasn’t the kind of girl who responded well to desperation—but he made an effort to join in whenever Daphne and her were hanging out with Blaise. Little by little, their conversations grew longer, and soon enough, Enzo was spending more time thinking about her than he cared to admit.

She, for her part, seemed to enjoy his company. She was never overly flirtatious, but there was a lightness to their interactions, a teasing quality that made him feel like she saw something in him too. She’d flash him those bright, knowing smiles, and every once in a while, when they were sitting together in the common room or walking to class, she’d brush her hand against his arm or lean in a little closer than necessary.

It drove him crazy in the best way.

Lorenzo wasn’t the kind of guy to fall easily, but she was different. She was everything he hadn’t expected—sharp, sweet, confident, and completely captivating. And as he found himself drawn deeper into her orbit, he realized that maybe, just maybe, he didn’t want to escape.

One snowy evening in December, as the group sat by the fire in the Slytherin common room, Enzo glanced over at her, who was laughing with Daphne about something. Her cheeks were flushed from the warmth of the fire, her long hair falling in perfect waves around her shoulders. She looked… perfect. And for the first time in a long time, Enzo felt his chest tighten with something he hadn’t expected—something more than just a crush.

He leaned over, nudging her lightly with his elbow. “You know, I never thought I’d be one to say this, but I think pink might be growing on me.”

She turned to him, her eyes gleaming with amusement. “Oh? Is that so?”

Enzo grinned. “Yeah. It suits you.”

Blair’s smile softened, and for a moment, the playful edge in her expression gave way to something gentler. “I’m glad to hear that.”

Lorenzo Berkshire prided himself on being observant. As one of the quieter members of the Slytherin group, he often stayed in the background, watching, taking in the details that others might miss. But ever since she had swept into his life like a perfectly styled whirlwind of pink and charm, his attention had shifted entirely to her.

Not that he was trying to be obvious about it. In fact, he made sure to stay casual—never lingering too long when they were together, always keeping his conversations with her light and playful. She, after all, seemed effortlessly confident in who she was, completely comfortable in her own skin. The more time Enzo spent with her, the more he noticed the little things about her, the way she carried herself and the details that made her, her.

Like the headbands. she had a collection of them, each one delicate and perfectly matched to her outfits. It was a signature look, but somehow, each time she wore one, it was as if she was reinventing herself with a new layer of sophistication.

And the gloves. She always had a pair of elegant gloves—usually soft leather—that she would slip on when they walked outside, even on days when the chill wasn’t that sharp. Enzo didn’t know anyone who wore gloves quite like her, with the same effortless grace and sense of style.

The more time he spent with her, the more he began to notice the other details too: the subtle pearl earrings she always wore, the soft pink gemstones that adorned her necklaces, the way her outfits, even in the drab Hogwarts uniform, had small, personalized touches that made her stand out.

But there was more to her than her impeccable fashion sense. There was her love of literature, something he hadn’t expected but found himself growing increasingly fascinated by. Whenever they found themselves in quieter moments—whether walking to Hogsmeade or sitting by the fire in the common room—she would casually mention the books she was reading, her love for classic literature spilling out in small, enthusiastic bursts.

“I’ve always loved Pride and Prejudice,” she had told him one evening when they were sitting in the library, the soft glow of the fireplace casting long shadows on the stone walls. “Elizabeth Bennet is such an icon—strong, witty, and unapologetically herself. There’s something empowering about a character like her.”

Enzo had blinked in surprise, not because he hadn’t expected her to read, but because of how passionate she was about it. He wasn’t much of a reader himself—at least not outside of textbooks—but the way she spoke about books made him want to understand that world better. To understand her better.

“You read a lot of Jane Austen?” Enzo had asked, leaning forward slightly, trying not to sound too curious.

She smiled, a playful glint in her eyes. “I love classic novels, but I read all sorts of things—fashion magazines, essays on magical history, even Muggle literature. There’s so much to learn from stories.”

It wasn’t long after that conversation that Enzo started noticing books in the corners of his vision. He would catch himself glancing at the spines of the books in the library or at the novels students carried between classes. Before he knew it, he found himself checking out a book—one she had casually mentioned—and though he wouldn’t admit it to anyone, it was because of her.

As the weeks passed, Enzo found himself slipping into new habits, almost without realizing it. He’d never been someone who paid much attention to fashion, content with the simplicity of the Slytherin uniform, but now… now he found himself lingering in front of mirrors a little longer. He started wearing more polished accessories—a smart pair of gloves on colder days, a bit more thought put into his choice of cufflinks. He even picked up a pair of cufflinks with small pink gemstones, an unconscious nod to her love for the color.

And then there were the headbands. He wasn’t about to start wearing them, of course, but every time she appeared in one of her signature pieces, Enzo found himself admiring how it tied her whole look together. It made him think more carefully about his own appearance—whether his hair was styled just right, or if his robes looked a bit more refined. He’d always been confident in his own way, but she had this knack for making him care about the details.

The more he observed her, the more he realized that she wasn’t just about appearances. She was intentional in everything she did. Whether it was the way she folded her gloves neatly into her bag, or how she always smiled at the house-elves who passed by in the hallways, she had a grace that went beyond fashion. It was a quiet power, the kind that didn’t need to shout to be heard.

But one thing continued to surprise Enzo the most. Despite her charm, her beauty, and the way people naturally gravitated toward her, she had never been in a relationship.

It was Daphne who had let it slip, casually, during one of their group outings to Hogsmeade.

They’d been sitting in The Three Broomsticks, their usual table by the fire, when the conversation had turned to dating. Blaise, ever the smooth-talker, had been teasing Daphne about the boys who constantly vied for her attention, and Daphne, in turn, had deflected with a grin and a playful roll of her eyes.

“Honestly, Blaise, if you think I get attention, you should see [Y/N],” Daphne had said, nudging her friend. “She could have anyone she wanted.”

She had laughed, a light, airy sound. “I’m not interested.”

“Really?” Enzo had asked, genuinely curious. He’d always assumed a girl like her would have had plenty of suitors—boys fawning over her, trying to win her favor. But she seemed utterly unbothered by the attention she received.

She shrugged, her expression serene. “I’ve just never found anyone worth my time, I guess. Relationships are… complicated. I’m not in any rush.”

Enzo had been surprised, though he tried not to show it. He wasn’t sure why the idea of her never having been in a relationship caught him off guard. Maybe it was because she seemed so poised, so in control of everything in her life, that he just assumed she had it all figured out. But now, knowing that she had never been in a relationship made her seem… more real. More relatable.

Later that night, as Enzo walked back to the Slytherin common room with Blaise, he couldn’t shake the thought of her casual admission.

“Can you believe [Y/N]'s never dated anyone?” he asked, keeping his voice casual as they walked through the dimly lit corridors.

Blaise shrugged, glancing at Enzo with a smirk. “Honestly? Yeah, I can. She’s got standards. And from what I’ve seen, no one’s met them yet.”

Enzo nodded thoughtfully, though his mind was still buzzing. He hadn’t dated anyone either. Sure he has had small crushes here and there—but he’d never been in a real relationship. And now, with these new feelings for her swirling around inside him, he felt like he was navigating completely unfamiliar territory.

He was falling for her, that much was clear. But what was he supposed to do about it?

As winter deepened, and the snow piled up outside the castle windows, Enzo found himself spending more and more time with her. She had become an unexpected part of his daily routine—whether they were studying together in the library or sitting with the group in the common room, there was always an easy rhythm between them. The conversations flowed naturally, and Enzo found himself wanting to know everything about her. Not just the surface-level stuff, but the little details, the things that made her... her.

One afternoon, as they sat by the fire, she had been reading one of her favorite books, a novel Enzo hadn’t recognized. He leaned over, glancing at the title.

“What’s this one about?” he asked, genuinely curious.

She smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “It’s Walden by Thoreau. Have you read it?”

Enzo shook his head. “I haven’t. Should I?”

Her smile widened. “You should. It's about the author's reflection of living in a cabin by the lake for two years.”

Enzo chuckled. “You’ve got a thing for the classics, don’t you?”

“I like stories with depth,” she said softly, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “Something you can lose yourself in. Fashion, literature—they’re not that different, you know. Both tell stories, in their own way. Both are powerful forms of arts."

Enzo tilted his head, intrigued by the way her mind worked. “I never thought of it like that.”

She looked at him then, her expression thoughtful. “You should. There’s a lot more to the world than what’s on the surface.”

And that was [Y/N] in a nutshell, wasn’t it? More than what was on the surface. Every day, Enzo found himself peeling back another layer, discovering more about her—and, in turn, about himself.

He wasn’t used to this. The subtle, slow-burn feelings that crept up on him in moments like this, when they were alone and she would give him that soft, knowing smile. But for the first time, Enzo was beginning to understand that maybe love wasn’t supposed to be obvious or immediate. Maybe it was like her fashion—delicate, intentional, and built on the small, unnoticed details.

#lorenzo berkshire #lorenzo berkshire x reader #lorenzo berkshire x female reader #enzo berkshire x reader #enzo berkshire #slytherin

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nottsangel · 7 months ago

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you have no idea how baaadly i want tie enzo up and ride him with sooo much included praise for him. like.. seeing him struggle??? yes please sign me up babe🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

“is this really necessary?” lorenzo drawls with a lazy, self-assured smirk, gazing up at you with a challenging sparkle in his eyes as he lightly tugs at the restraints tightly wrapped around his wrists. “yes, enzo. it is.” you reply in a firm, resolute tone. he’s finally let you have control for once— and you’re the determined to make the most of it. you can see in his eyes that he’s still holding on to control, but you’re confident he’ll let go soon enough.

you crawl towards him on the bed as he eyes you with a hungry, lustful look, biting down hard on his swollen lip. “actually, this isn’t so bad.” he groans, eyes greedily scanning every inch of your exposed, naked body, impatiently waiting to feel you wrapped around his cock while you hover over his lap. “i could get used to this.” he murmurs, pleasantly surprised by how much he enjoys not having to lift even a finger.

“yeah? you sure about that?” you taunt before you suddenly sink down on him, your hands resting firmly on his chest as he lets out a loud moan. “oh, fuck.” you waste no time, bouncing up and down quickly, your hands moving sensually towards your tits as you massage them and toy with your hard nipples. now, this is the moment where lorenzo begins to struggle, as he so desperately wants to touch every part of your body, yet he’s helplessly forced to simply watch as your tits bounce right in his face. his confident smirk fades instantly, replaced by an unmistakable expression of desperation and frustration.

“what’s wrong, baby? you don’t like it anymore?” you tease, a small, amused chuckle escaping your lips as you shift towards his neck and plant soft, lingering kisses against his warm skin. he groans in response, visibly frustrated as you continue to ride him, hips skilfully rocking back and forth. “just relax, alright? you’re doing so well for me, baby.” you coo, feeling his throbbing, pulsating cock twitch at your praise as you trail quick kisses along his jawline.

“you feel so good, enzo. so fucking big.” you whisper directly into his ear, fully realising that your words are bringing him closer to the edge— and that’s when you stop. “w-what? why are you stopping? i was so fucking close.” “aw, you wanna cum? then you gotta beg for it, pretty boy.”

ੈ♡˳

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rosesareredrosa · 6 months ago

Text

Show You How Much I Care

Lorenzo Berkshire x fem reader

Summary: Little things Lorenzo does to show y/n how much he cares

w/c: 1069

Lorenzo Berkshire, the charming and enigmatic member of the Slytherin crew, had always had a knack for reading people. Yet, when it came to Y/N, a girl who seemed to shine with an inner light, he found himself captivated. Unlike many others at Hogwarts, Y/N was genuine and kind, navigating the social landscape with refreshing authenticity. Lorenzo admired her from afar and, over time, felt a growing desire to show her how much he cared.

The Care Package

One day, after overhearing Y/N mention her struggles with schoolwork, Lorenzo decided to help. He discreetly gathered a selection of books and notes that could aid her studies. Alongside these, he added a few of her favorite snacks—a small detail he had picked up from observing her during meals.

That evening, Y/N returned to her dormitory to find a basket waiting for her. Inside was a note written in Lorenzo's neat handwriting:

"For the times when things get tough. Take care, Y/N. - Enzo"

Y/N felt a warm flush spread across her cheeks as she read the note. She had always seen Lorenzo as the laid-back, cool member of his group, but this thoughtful gesture revealed a depth she hadn't expected. It was a small act, but it showed that he had been paying attention and cared about her well-being.

The Potions Class Incident

During a challenging Potions class, Professor Snape assigned the students a complex potion requiring precise timing and careful handling. Y/N, who generally enjoyed Potions, found herself unusually nervous, fumbling with the ingredients. She glanced at her notes, trying to recall the exact sequence, but her anxiety clouded her memory.

Lorenzo, at the next table, noticed her distress. He watched as she hesitated, holding a vial of powdered unicorn horn uncertainly. Understanding the importance of timing, Lorenzo quietly tapped his quill on the edge of her table, a subtle signal they had developed for moments like this.

Y/N looked over, catching his eye. Lorenzo gave a slight nod, glancing at the clock. She understood and added the powder just as the potion turned the right shade of blue. Lorenzo continued to help subtly, passing her a vial of powdered moonstone when she realized she was running low and mouthing a reminder about the temperature adjustment.

As the class ended, Professor Snape evaluated their potions. He paused at Y/N's cauldron, inspecting the brew with his usual critical eye. "Adequate," he muttered, a rare compliment from him.

Relieved, Y/N turned to Lorenzo as they packed up. "Thank you," she whispered, her eyes filled with gratitude. "I was so nervous."

Lorenzo smiled, a warm, reassuring look in his eyes. "You had it. Just needed a bit of confidence."

Y/N couldn't help but smile back. His quiet support had been comforting, making her feel seen and valued.

The Herbology Lesson

Later, during a particularly tricky Herbology lesson, Y/N struggled with a difficult plant. Lorenzo, who had a surprising knack for Herbology, noticed her frustration and stayed behind after class.

"Need a hand?" he asked, offering a friendly smile.

Surprised, Y/N nodded. Lorenzo patiently guided her through the process, showing her the correct technique. Under his calm guidance, the plant responded, and Y/N felt a wave of relief and accomplishment.

"Thanks, Lorenzo," she said, grateful for his help.

He shrugged modestly. "Anytime. Can't let you struggle alone."

As the days passed, Y/N couldn't help but notice all the little things Lorenzo did for her. He'd save her a seat in the library, offer to carry her books when they were headed in the same direction, and even conjured a small bouquet of flowers during a particularly rough day. These small acts of kindness were so thoughtful and consistent that she found herself wondering why he was doing them. Was it just his nature, or was there something more?

The Astronomy Night

Knowing Y/N's love for the stars, Lorenzo planned a special surprise. One clear night, he invited her for a walk. They ended up at the Astronomy Tower, where he had set up a blanket and a small telescope.

As they lay under the stars, Lorenzo pointed out constellations and shared stories. His effort to create this moment touched Y/N deeply, revealing a thoughtful and caring side she had come to cherish.

"Lorenzo, this is wonderful," Y/N said, moved by his gesture. "Thank you."

He smiled, his eyes reflecting the starlight. "I wanted to do something special for you. You deserve it."

Y/N felt warmth spread through her. She hesitated, then asked the question that had been on her mind. "Why do you do all these things for me, Lorenzo?" she asked softly, turning to look at him directly. "You've been so kind and attentive... it's more than anyone's ever done for me."

Lorenzo paused, his expression thoughtful. He met her gaze, his eyes sincere. "Because you matter to me, Y/N," he began, his voice gentle but firm. "I've seen how kind and genuine you are, and I admire that. I wanted to show you that someone appreciates you for who you are, not just for what you do or what house you're in. And... because I care about you. A lot."

He paused, gathering his thoughts. "I know I'm not the best with words or grand gestures, but I believe in showing my feelings through actions. That's why I wanted to show you how much I care, in my own way. Whether it's helping you in Potions, making sure you have what you need, or just spending time together like this. It's all because I want you to know you're special to me."

Y/N's heart fluttered at his words. There was a sincerity in his voice that made her believe every word. She felt a mix of emotions—surprise, joy, and a deep warmth she couldn't quite describe.

She reached out, taking his hand. "I had no idea," she admitted, her voice soft. "But... I'm glad. I appreciate everything you've done. It means more than you know."

They sat there, hand in hand, under the vast night sky. Lorenzo's quiet, thoughtful actions had finally come to light, revealing the depth of his feelings. It wasn't about grand declarations or dramatic actions; it was about the little things that showed he genuinely cared. And in that moment, under the stars, Y/N realized just how much Lorenzo meant to her, too.

#slytherin x reader #slytherin boys #fluff #lorenzo berkshire #enzo x reader #enzo berkshire #potions #herbology #astronomy #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #cute #lorenzo berkshire x reader #lorenzo berkshire x you #lorenzo berkshire x female reader

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distantdarlings · 5 months ago

Text

STRAY FROM ROUTINE // m. riddle

RATING: R / 4.5K WORDS

Mattheo Riddle x Fem Reader Insert

+ SUMMARY - *Requested, based on this* You wake up with an evil plan to ignore Mattheo Riddle until he cracks.

+ WARNINGS - SMUT! (P in V), unprotected, spanking, thigh-hitting, dom!mattheo, sub!reader, mean mattheo, slight breeding kink, controlling mattheo, reader is resisting (but she's doing it on purpose), toxic relationship values, name-calling, degradation, language, not fully proofread (lmk if I missed anything!)

+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -

Ride or Die, Pt. 2 - Sevdaliza (I can't get it out of my head :'))

- - -

The inspiration that struck you as soon as you woke up was one of some kind of age-old genius. The motivation that came with it seemed to cloud your mind like some kind of drug, flooding your mind and inhibiting all other thoughts that attempted to enter your brain the rest of the day.

You had always been a bit of a shit-starter when it came to Mattheo Riddle, but today, you were feeling downright sinister.

Your eyes flicked across the room to catch the dark boy’s oaken eyes. His strong hand lifted from the counter to toy with his bottom lip teasingly. Every move was calculated, down to the way his shoulders moved when he took in a breath.

He skirted through his usual routine of tracing his eyes slowly down your body, then flicking them back up to steel his eye contact. For the first few months of your relationship with him—if that’s what you wanted to call it—that whole intimidating facade had worked on you effortlessly. But now, you knew he was more bark than he was bite. That was, as far as you could tell.

You supposed that after sleeping with him so long, he’d have lived up to his whole King Mattheo act, but he'd fallen short. You were disappointed, to say the least. The majority of the entire student body, including some teachers, were terrified of this boy that currently stared you down, but you seemed to be missing something.

Was he good in bed? Hell yes. Could he get mean? Also yes, but where was the difference? As far as you could tell, he didn’t fuck any differently than any other Slytherin boy you’d been with. They were practically all the same. Mean, dominant, and rough. They usually had some kind of ego to keep up—or a tiny dick to compensate for. Whatever it was, Mattheo didn’t seem any different.

He was mean, dominant, and rough. The only thing that had surprised you about him was how gentle he was beneath it all. With every bruising thrust, his fingers cradled your hips gently where others gripped with their nails. With every mark he sucked into your skin, he darted a tongue out to soothe where others let it simmer. He was a rough lover, but he was still a lover. The others were just rough.

That was what had kept you going back to him so many times. But you were getting impatient. It was time for Mattheo to step his game up, or you were going to get bored. You wanted him to prove to you that he was different. But you didn’t want to have to ask for it. You just wanted him to know to do it.

By the time the last of the breakfast crowd had dissipated and the campus prepared for their first periods, Mattheo hadn’t broken eye contact once. Nor had you. If there was one thing you weren’t going to do—for Mattheo or any one else—it was back down from a challenge. If he wanted to tease and stare and frustrate, you’d do the same.

Finally, he stood with the rest of his group of friends. They headed toward the door but his focus remained on you.

The tip of his wand peeked out from the edge of his uniform sleeve and, with a few mumbled words, a small slip of paper had collapsed from the tip of the wooden object. It hit the floor silently, and weaved through the swarm of feet marching through the Great Hall. Once it had reached you, it stopped just before your shoes beneath the table.

At risk of being caught by your friends, you refused to glance down at it. But, just like he always did, Mattheo had thought of everything. With a shiver, you felt the piece of paper slide up your leg like a slithering snake.

It slunk over the curve of your knee and seemed to wait for you to grab it. Ignoring the thought that it seemed to be alive like some sort of bug, you slipped your hand beneath the table and pulled the slip of paper toward you. Discreetly, you opened it up and looked down at it.

How do you want me to take you today? was scrawled in heavy, broad strokes across the sliver of parchment.

You bit back a smirk. That little fucker.

But, no. With the inspiration you had today—the inspiration to push Mattheo Riddle as close to the edge as possible—you weren’t going to allow him the satisfaction.

In fact, you were going to ignore him entirely until he cracked. That was the plan and you were settled with it. While this likely wasn’t the best thing for your own health, you weren’t too concerned. Mattheo Riddle was an asshole, but he wasn’t a murderer. You were pretty sure, anyways.

Satisfied with your decisions, you smiled lightly and pushed the piece of parchment into the first pocket of your school bag. As soon as you returned to your room, it would be placed with all of the other notes he had passed to you. Even though you weren’t wildly impressed with Mattheo’s performance so far, it was still nice to have the dirty, little notes sitting around for a rainy day.

- - -

And throughout the rest of the day, you stuck to your plan like glue. Every stare, every sneaking touch, every whispered word from Mattheo was met with a brick wall. You simply weren’t interested in any aspect of his usual antics, today. He needed to earn what he refused to admit he wanted so badly, which was you.

And by third period, you could tell he was nearly ready to explode. His jaw was clenching and unclenching, his fists were wrapped so tightly together, the knuckles were almost completely white. He was fucking angry—possibly angrier than you had ever seen him. And that was exactly what you had wanted. You wanted him to know that you were a million times different than any of the other girls he’d romanced so far.

He tried once more to entice a little desire from you just toward the end of class. The two of you sat in the last two rows at the very back of the classroom.

The room was elevated with the back rows at the highest point of the room, overlooking the rest of the class. Any secret movements were noticed simply by the backs of heads and a nonchalant teacher.

Mattheo sat directly behind you with one of his unnamed friends to his left, and another to that boy’s left. You were alone on your row. The class was not that big. But this was exactly the kind of environment a sly boy like Mattheo Riddle loved. He would take any opportunity he could to slide his dirty lips against your ear and whisper any deviance that popped into his head at the moment. And that’s what he’d done.

His head had settled just beside yours. You’d heard his breathing before even noticing the heat from his skin radiating onto yours. A shiver passed through your body at his proximity. Annoyed at your body’s involuntary reaction to the dark boy, you slipped your arms beneath the table to hide the chills sprouting across your flesh.

He must have seen them, though, because a small breath of a smirk passed across his face in your peripheral.

“I don’t know what your game is, little girl,” he whispered, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “But you’d better straighten that attitude up, or, I swear, I’ll fix it myself.”

He didn’t say another word before he leaned back against his own seat, leaving you to wonder whether or not this was a good idea. You reminded yourself that intimidation was his shtick. That was the majority of the reason everyone was so frightened of him. You couldn’t even remember the last time he’d actually beaten anyone up or done anything to anyone who’d wronged him. Like you’d said, he was all bark.

Still, despite his threatening words, you simply flipped your hair over your shoulder and completely ignored him. He scoffed, seemingly suppressing a laugh. He was mad. But he wasn’t going to admit that to you right now.

Besides, you were sure you’d never hear the end of it once it was all said and done.

Once the teacher had announced that class was over and recited the homework assignment to a crowd of deaf ears, you gathered all of your things quickly and made a beeline for the door. You hadn’t even given Mattheo a second to gain a bit of awareness before you were out the door and halfway down the hallway.

You didn’t have a fourth period, but Mattheo did. He had Potions for the next hour, giving you just enough time to spruce up your appearance a bit and prepare for the storm that was brewing. You knew Mattheo well enough by this point to know how this evening was going to go. He would threaten your body within an inch of its life, ask if you ‘knew who he was,’ then he’d fuck you. Just like he always did. There was too much of a pattern. Not enough spontaneity to keep you occupied—you needed more. Hopefully, today was what did it for him.

The dormitory you shared with your mates was completely barren due to their schedules. Out of the five of you, you were the only one that had chosen fourth period as your free period. It seemed odd to you that they would rather have a late start to the day, than an early end. In your opinion, you’d wake up as early as you had to, if it meant you did not have to yawn your way through the last classes of the day.

You dropped your bag onto your bed and made for the small desk that was positioned just beside the headboard. It was stocked with all of your personal hygiene products—organized impeccably—and various bits of stationery for schoolwork. It served as both a desk and a vanity for you while you were getting ready in the mornings—or getting ready to see Mattheo.

You hoped he would be desperate all through his class. You hoped his eyes would be flickering around nervously, his knee bouncing rapidly, sweat dripping down his throat. It would be a sight to behold.

Mattheo was gorgeous—there was no denying that. It was just his attitude that needed adjusting. You smirked to yourself before taking a seat at your desk, glancing at your appearance in the small mirror you’d propped up against the stone wall.

And before you were even able to apply a second layer of mascara, the large wooden door in the corner of the room rattled violently. Three aggressive knocks permeated the silence so roughly the dust motes illuminated by the sun shuddered wildly.

A chill of anticipation settled in your stomach. Surely, that couldn’t be him. Fourth period had barely even begun.

You rose from your desk and crossed the length of the room, every step echoing through your body like a cannon. Why were you so nervous? The possibilities of consequences of your own actions were really starting to rattle around in your skull.

Your fingers wrapped around the bronze door handle and pulled.

Sure enough, on the other side, stood Mattheo Riddle. A malicious smirk was printed across his lips. He glanced around a few times, seeming to scan the surroundings of your dorm.

“Hi, is there anyone else here?” he asked, his voice sickly sweet. The courteous role he was playing made you all the more nervous. He never acted this way, even when he’d come to your dorm in the past. He was usually just as brash as he always was, no matter who was in the room.

“No, there’s not,” you said, your voice annoyingly shaking just a bit. “And if you don’t mind, I’m actually pretty busy—”

Just as you started to push the door closed again, Mattheo’s foot slammed against it, completely blocking its path. You tried to push against him, but he was much too strong for you to defend against.

“I’m sure you can spare a few moments for a quick chat,” he nearly growled, never dropping the fake smile planted on his face. His strong arm pushed against the door, rendering your protection of it completely useless. He pushed through and into the room as if you’d never been holding it in the first place.

He kicked the door shut behind him as soon as he stepped through, the door clunking shut with a rough thud. You suppressed a flinch at the loud sound, refusing to show any sign of vulnerability. You couldn’t pull away from your plan now that you were feeling his anger—that was cowardly.

“Mattheo, I’ve asked for you to leave,” you warned.

“Yeah? Just answer one question for me, baby…” he said, stepping directly into your personal space and invading it in every way possible.

As if asking for permission, he raised his hand slowly and let it hover just next to your cheek. When you did nothing, he placed his fingers along your jawline. They stroked gently across a small surface area, insisting that you felt every searing second of contact.

His face came impossibly close against yours. His warm breath fanned slowly across your cheek, hints of fire and cinnamon lingering beneath your nose. The feeling of his lips skirting slightly over your skin on the way to your ear sent a myriad of chills down the length of your arms and a pool of heat between your thighs. You silenced a shudder on its way through your lips.

“Did you act that way on purpose?” he whispered. His lips caressed the curvature of your ear, his hot words curling around the room. “If not, I’ll find a new girl to open her legs when I want. But if you wanted this, I will make you regret ever having turned away from me.”

You swallowed thickly, the sound piercing the blanket of silence that fell around the room the minute Mattheo stopped speaking. It irked you to no end, that the entire world seemed to hold its breath to wait for this boy. This dark, irritatingly impossible to resist boy. It was more than you were able to handle, no matter how determined you were to prove a point.

“What I wanted…,” you trailed off coldly. “Was for you to prove to me that you’re not exactly like every other Slytherin that waltzes in here, comes in ten seconds, and then asks me if I’ve finished. I’ve been waiting for that special something to jump out at me, but it just hasn’t. I’m getting bored of you, Mattheo.” You took a deep breath, gaining enough courage to flatten your face and select your next words perfectly. “Speaking of, I was wondering if your friend, Enzo, was single.”

You struggled not to smirk at his reaction. If you didn’t know Mattheo, you’d have assumed he was going to crash out and leave the room. But you knew him and his destructive tendencies. His rage, though extremely stigmatized, was something to be in awe of, and you were ready to see it. And to be the target of it.

His eyes darkened until they were barely reflecting any of the dim light around the room. His lips parted slightly, just enough for an evil smirk to stretch across his face. He was all dark eyes and sharp canines, and it looked as if he were desperate to sink them into your flesh.

“You’re fucking done,” he whispered menacingly.

Then his hand was around your throat, firm and bruising. He walked you backwards until your back roughly hit the stone wall, the cold rock biting into your shoulder blades. His lips met yours with a fervor you’d never seen before.

His tongue cruelly parted your lips and laid claim to the entirety of your throat. You could hardly breathe with the pressure he was applying around your neck and the force of his kiss. Yet, still, you could not deny the heat building within your stomach and radiating downwards.

His free hand wrapped around your waist, the fingers slipping slyly beneath the waistband of your uniform skirt. Just as always, in the midst of the fiery storm, his fingers were able to imitate some form of softness just long enough for his hand to prepare to rip your skirt away. Despite the roughness he provided everywhere else, his fingers were gentle as they slid along your skin so as not to pinch it against the wall. It was just thoughtful enough to melt your heart down into a broiling golden puddle.

His strong hand gripped the material of your bottoms and pulled them roughly down, revealing the absence of anything beneath, save your blackened tights. When he lifted his hand once more to tear your panties away, he recognized the lack of material within his fingers and growled against your lips.

“You fucking wanted this, you dumb slut,” he spat, his pearlescent teeth sinking down into the flesh of your bottom lip. With a whimper and flash of white across your vision, he finally released you, leaving behind a thin slathering of blood across your teeth.

“You wanted me to tear you to pieces,” he whispered, his hand finally freeing your throat, but only to get to work on ripping your uniform shirt apart. The buttons clattered wildly across the floor, rolling freely each in their own directions.

You moved to protest but Mattheo shoved you back against the wall. He shook his head as if in disbelief you’d even try to get away from him at this point in time. In his mind, this was well-deserved punishment. If you were his girl, you were going to fucking listen to him. You knew what you were getting into when you first laid your lips on his.

With your shirt split down the middle, the only thing standing between his lips and your heaving body were a lacy bra and a pair of tights. The cold, gray air hit your soaked body so aggressively, you thought your teeth might start clacking together.

“All this going to waste because you couldn’t ask me for what you wanted,” he whispered. “I’m going to have to destroy this gorgeous body, when it should be worshiped.”

To your disbelief, he sank down to his knees and placed his hands gently on the back of your thighs. His scorching mouth made contact with your thighs—still covered in the thin material of your pantyhose—and he began to place wet, biting kisses along your flesh. He moved slowly from just above your knee to the top of your thigh. Each mean kiss ached as if they were done by a wild animal, but—just as he always fucking did—he soothed them with his skilled tongue afterwards. Never letting you hurt for too long.

Once he reached your core, fluttering in anticipation, he took a deep breath. The scent of your desire filled his senses as if it was his last meal. Just from how he’d loved in the past, you could tell that he was refraining from devouring you. But this was a punishment. No matter how sweet or caring he so often was, he was never going to let you have what you wanted.

“But that won’t do today…” he whispered against the surface of your tights just above your core, so close that his lips brushed across the sensitive skin. You withheld a whimper.

“Seems like it wasn’t happening any other day, either,” you chuckled breathlessly. You weren’t dropping this fucking routine. You wanted this and every inch of teasing Mattheo wanted to give you.

He laid a biting slap across your left thigh. The sound of it echoed throughout the room, only being interrupted by the cry that left your lips at the sudden abuse.

“Watch your fucking mouth,” he demanded, his hand soothing the sore flesh.

He pressed one more kiss to the blossoming handprint, before sliding a short nail against the hosiery, ripping it instantly.

You gasped at the sensation, watching as he pulled on the material. It shredded down your leg, exposing your bare thighs to the pale light. Flaming red fingerprints bloodied the soft flesh and marked you as his.

Despite your annoyance at his lack of excitement during the last few times you’d fucked, the feeling of possession that he’d laid on you always made an impression. You felt like you belonged to him in every aspect of the word.

Then before you were able to let another smart-ass comment fly, he slipped his hand beneath the large shear in the tights and ripped a hole right across your aching groin, baring your searing cunt to the world.

“Fuck,” he whispered.

Even though he was intending to punish, Mattheo couldn’t help but appreciate your body just a little bit. Though he wouldn’t admit it just yet, he could die happily buried within you.

Seeming to realize his “punishment” was a bit too sweet, he gripped your hips roughly and flipped your body around to face the wall. You helped aloud as the craggy stone bit into the skin of your breasts through your bra. The lace mixed with the cold wall made your nipples prick almost uncomfortably.

“Gonna fuck some manners into you, baby,” he murmured, his gravelly voice echoing against the curve of your spine. His mean fingers traced each nodule of each vertebrae until he reached the dimples imprinted in the small of your back.

His thumbs pressed deep against them, rubbing an easy massage into them for just a second.

“Feel good? You got any other dumbass things to say?”

“Why waste my breath? I’m gonna have to fake my fucking orgasm in a few seconds.”

You bit back a moan as he reached through your legs, gripped the hole he’d ripped in your tights, and widened it between your thighs. He pulled it up and over your ass.

“Yeah? You fake it every time, baby?” he growled into your ear, his heavy bulge pressing into your bare ass.

“Yeah,” you gasped, your voice barely more than a whisper. Your hands were settled against your desk, fingers tightened around the edges, nails scratching into the wood. Your back was arched uncomfortably against his core, begging for every slight thrust he pressed into you. You could practically feel him within you already.

“You fake it every time you cum all over my cock, huh?” he asked. Behind you, you could hear him wrestling his belt out of its loops and dropping his trousers.

“Answer me, bitch,” he demanded, grabbing a fistful of your hair and pulling your head back against his chest.

“Fuck, Matty, that hurts!” you whined. It was a good, searing kind of pain but you didn’t want him to know that. Didn’t want him to know that your arousal was dripping down your legs by now.

“Yeah? That hurts?” he taunted. “That’s nothing, baby. You can take it.”

Then suddenly, his hot core was leant against the top of your ass. You were biting back a moan and running your fingers into the desk so hard they were going numb. Still, you weren’t going to give up.

“We’ll see if you can give it—fuck!”

He shut you up by slamming himself into you. The force of his intrusion hit your cervix at a sharp angle, sending stars into your eyes.

“Let me hear you fake it, yeah?” he groaned as he pulled himself out of you all the way to the tip before pushing himself back into you.

You couldn’t hide it anymore. Though you could still force some mean comments out every once and a while, you were unable to repress your moans.

“I’m basically an expert at this point!” you moaned.

“I bet,” he growled, his hips increasing in pace. “I know the way you clench around me everytime I take you from behind—” every sentence was pushed out between deep groans that echoed in your womb— “I’ve memorized every possible way you can scream my name…and I’ve learned every single thing I have to do to make that pretty pussy cum all over me.”

Following his words, his right hand snaked around your hip and pressed directly against your clit. He rubbed perfect circles into the sensitive spot, demanding a finish from you as soon as he could pull it from you.

“You’re a bit too cocky for my liking,” you breathed against his ruthless pounding. “I’d still like Enzo’s number.”

And with one final thrust, he pierced the bubble of pleasure that had bloomed rapidly in your stomach. You came impossibly hard, with the evidence of your high embarrassingly gushing around him. He pulled away from you and let your desire cover his stomach.

He laughed almost maniacally at the way your orgasm stretched out for what felt like hours.

And then, as you were finally coming down, he was pumping himself noisily into his hand and coming all of your lower back, painting the dimples he so loved to touch.

He moaned breathlessly, a slight crack in his voice, as he slowed his movements down and came down from his own high.

A tired laugh left his swollen lips as he trailed his finger through the remnants of his spend on your back and pushed his coated fingers into your sensitive entrance.

The overstimulation sent a flurry of ice up your spine. You cried at the sensation. Your legs fluttered before giving out.

On your way down to the floor, he caught you against his arms. Your knees were impossibly weak, but he was ever so strong.

“You faking this too, baby?” he clicked his tongue before settling you against your bed.

“Fuck you,” you sighed, your eyes fluttering against the ceiling. The lightheaded feeling floating through your skull was nearly too much for you to handle, but you were still high up on your pedestal and refused to come down.

Distantly, you could hear him pulling his pants up and rearranging his clothes.

Gently, he slid the remainder of your hosiery down your legs, unhooked your bra, and lifted you up off of the bed bridal-style. Somehow managing to cradle you with just one hand, he used his left to yank your comforter back, and settle you beneath it.

He leaned down beside your ear and pressed his lips to your temple. Just before he pulled all the way back, he began to whisper.

“The next time you wanna act like that—just remember that I fucked you to sleep, brat.”

- - -

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deadghosy · 5 months ago

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Slytherin boys react to you being taller than them in heels

Requested by @daddiesgone

Tom Riddle

Honestly doesn’t care at all.

He still holds power, he has that aura.

AN AURA OF AN ALPHAAA *cough cough* sorry. But yeah he think you look lovely in heels

No matter how tall you are that intimidates people. He has the scary presence

Mattheo Riddle

Probably says “I’ll climb that tree!” 😭

Either way, he finds you hot asf since you are taller than him

He digs it a lot honestly

Literally brags at how you could be in the WNBA 😭

Draco Malfoy

I feel like he would be slight insecure at how much more taller you are than him in heels

He soon gets over it, don’t worry he won’t verbal or physically put you down.

He would just muster some courage of his own and be out with you in public in pride

Like a true malfoy

Theodore Nott

Honestly he thinks you two are two a W tall couple

Honestly finds you hella more attractive in heels.

Would literally point to you and be like “yeah my gf is a goddess..what about yours?”

He’s literally so petty and funny

Lorenzo Berkshire

A little overwhelmed since you were taller than him already without heels

But that doesn’t change the fact he still loves you though!

He loves his tall princess

Probably goes heel shopping with you more

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leona-hawthorne · 23 days ago

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lorenzo berkshire: how a relationship would be with my favorite male manipulator <3

(@mattnott this came out of the chat we had the other day LMAO ily zoya)

on the surface, lorenzo berkshire is just that guy. he’s effortlessly charming, polite, intelligent, and the kind of person who could convince anyone he’s the perfect human being. he’s the type who walks into a room and immediately draws everyone in—not by being loud or flashy, but by knowing exactly how to make himself seem approachable, kind, and maybe even a little vulnerable. but all of it is just a mask.

enzo is a master manipulator. he knows exactly how to get what he wants, and he does it by making people think they’re in control. he doesn’t argue or beg; instead, he plants ideas like seeds in your mind. “if that’s what you think is best,” he’ll say with a soft smile, knowing full fucking well you’ll second-guess yourself. he makes you feel like every decision was yours, even though he’s been guiding you the whole time. and the worst part? you don’t even realize it until it’s too late.

emotional manipulation and guilt-tripping

enzo doesn’t argue outright, but he’s an expert at making you feel like everything is your fault. when you expresses your feelings or doubts about your relationship, he deflects and twists the narrative.

“you’re overthinking again, love. you always do this—it’s like you’re looking for reasons to fight.”

“after everything i’ve done for you, this is how you see me? it just doesn’t seem fair, babe.”

the constant emotional exhaustion of always questioning yourself and feeling like the villain slowly pushes you to the edge.

subtle isolation

enzo doesn’t tell you to stop seeing your friends or family straight up—that would be too obvious. instead, he plants seeds of doubt about them, turning you against the people who care about you.

“it’s just… don’t you think your friends don’t really understand you? they don’t see the real you like i do. they’re only here for a good time. they wouldn’t stick with you when things are hard, like i do.”

“your sister’s always been jealous of you. it’s kind of obvious when you think about it. in fact… i think i she was flirting with me at the lake trip last weekend…”

over time, you feel more and more alone, with enzo as the only person left in your corner—and even that’s suffocating.

his temper leaks through

enzo prides himself on being calm and composed, but even he can’t keep the mask on forever. when you push back—when you really challenge him—his anger surfaces.

“you think you’re better than me now? after all i’ve done just to make you happy? you should be grateful i’m still putting up with you. no one else would.”

“you don’t get to treat me like this. i deserve better than your constant doubts.”

while he doesn't resort to outright aggression, the quiet, cutting anger and emotional coldness are enough to make you feel small and utterly helpless against him.

hypercritical tendencies

at first, enzo is the type to shower you with compliments. but once he has you, the nitpicking starts. he frames his criticisms as “helping” you or “protecting” you, but they’re really about control. he wants to cut you down until his words are the only form of validation you trust; the only ones that matter.

“that dress is nice, but it’s not really your color, is it?”

“i just think you’d be happier if you didn’t spend so much time on things that don’t matter.”

it’s not that he truly thinks badly of you; it’s just his way of slowly implementing his control. the constant criticism erodes your self-esteem, making you wonder if you’re ever enough for him.

dismisses your autonomy

enzo frames his controlling nature as “taking care of you” or “looking out for you,” but it’s really about stripping away your agency.

he might make decisions for you without asking, like ordering for you at a restaurant or canceling your plans because he thinks you “needs rest.” you simply don’t get a say.

“i only did it because i know what’s best for you. you’d do the same for me if you cared as much as i do.”

over time, you realize you don’t have control over your own life anymore—and that terrifies you.

you start to feel like you’re losing your identity. the things you love—your hobbies, your friends, even your sense of self—have all been swallowed up by enzo’s world.

his fear of losing control turns ugly

when you start pulling away, enzo’s fear of losing you makes him tighten his grip. he might start tracking your whereabouts, showing up uninvited, or trying to manipulate you into staying.

“you’re not yourself lately, baby. i think you need me more than ever right now.”

“are you seriously leaving me after everything we’ve been through? i thought you were better than this. i thought you loved me—was it all a joke to you?”

his desperation exposes just how deeply insane, how utterly selfish he really is—and how dangerous it is to stay—but you still can’t help loving him.

the breaking point: seeing the mask slip

your breaking point comes when you finally see enzo for what he truly is. maybe it’s a moment of anger where his charm gives way to cold cruelty. maybe it’s realizing how isolated you’ve become or maybe it’s catching him in a lie.

“you know what? you’ll never find someone like me again. you’ll never find someone who loves you the way i do—or touches you the way i do.”

“go ahead and leave. but don’t come crawling back when you realize no one else will put up with you.”

and suddenly, the illusion you’ve clung to—the one where enzo is perfect, where his love is worth the pain—is shattered.

enzo doesn’t beg you to stay. no, he’s far more subtle. he sets the stage so that if you even think about leaving, the world around you becomes a constant reminder of him. your friends adore him. “enzo’s perfect for you,” they say, oblivious to his carefully crafted facade, oblivious to the fact that he doesn’t even want them within 50 feet of you. your family loves him because he’s gone out of his way to charm them. “he’s such a gentleman,” your mom gushes after he brings her flowers for no reason at all.

and when you confront him? he doesn’t argue. he doesn’t yell. instead, he sighs, looking at you with those soft, sad eyes. “i just wish you’d trust me,” he says, and suddenly you’re the one apologizing.

and enzo’s love isn’t love—it’s obsession. he doesn’t just want to be with you; he wants to consume you. he integrates himself so deeply into your life that it feels impossible to untangle yourself from him.

he’ll listen to all your favorite songs and tell you how much he loves them too. “this one reminds me of you,” he’ll say, and suddenly, every melody feels like it belongs to him.

he’ll watch all your favorite shows, quote them back to you, and make inside jokes so that even your comfort series becomes a part of his web.

he’ll charm your friends and family until they’re all on his side. “you’re lucky to have him,” they’ll say when you confide in them. and if you ever leave? they’ll tell you you’re making one of the biggest mistakes of your life.

“i just don’t understand,” he’ll say if you call him out. “everything i’ve ever done was for you. because i love you.”

and here’s the thing about enzo: even when he’s truly, deeply in love, he’s still toxic. love doesn’t magically make him a better person—it just changes the way he manipulates you. instead of using his charm to pull you in, he’ll use his insecurities to keep you there. “i don’t know what i’d do without you,” he whispers, and it sounds more like a warning than a confession. almost like he’s saying he’d become worthless without you.

but love does soften him in some ways. his need for control isn’t about power anymore; it’s about fear. he’s terrified of losing you, so he holds on tighter. he’s still manipulative, still controlling, but now it’s because he genuinely believes he can’t live without you.

enzo’s love is messy and overwhelming. it’s the kind of love that makes you feel like you’re drowning, but at the same time, you can’t imagine living without it. and that’s the tragedy of lorenzo berkshire: no matter what he does, you can’t help but love him anyway. even when you see his true colors, you’re already too far gone.

navigation. masterlist. lorenzo berkshire masterlist.

#lorenzo berkshire #slytherin boys #lorenzo berkshire x you #lorenzo berkshire x reader #enzo berkshire #enzo berkshire x you #enzo berkshire x reader #enzo berkshire x y/n #lorenzo berkshire fanfic #slytherin #harry potter #louis partridge #character analysis #lorenzo berkshire x female reader

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