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pizzaapeteer · 11 months ago

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STEVIE 🫢😭 your reblog is sending me. Stop I literally love you! BUT YES WE DESERVE TO BE DEGRADED DOWN TO A PEICE OF TRASH ON LORENZO BERKSHIRES SHOE 😫

Torn Facade

You are the only one who can see through Enzo’s sweet facade and see the true insufferable motherfucker that he is.

Warnings: Toxic Enzo!; NSFW, fem! reader, one use of y/n and y/l/n, degrading, throat grabbing, swearing, semi-public sex, PiV, fingering, fem orgasm, Enzo is literally just a big asshole in this. Word count: around 4k.

An: This was based off this lovely edit by @finalgirllx that sparked the idea. Also big thanks to all my muts who helped me 💛 Esp @fuckaperioddrama & @slytherinslut0. Pretty diver from here.

You knew it was him. That little fucking thief. That wasn’t a sufficient insult for how you truly felt while you stared down at the torn out pages. In a book you had been once enjoying, a treasure now snatched from your clutches, a prize that was yours and now remained in the hands of an insufferable criminal. The worst possible timing too, you were just reaching a moment of truth, a massive revelation that would explain all things just for it to be gone. Ripped literally from you.

Your eyes held a narrowed gaze on the Slytherin boy who sat only meters away, sitting nestled with his own book. Though you knew it was just for fake appearances, a technique of his to appeal to the sweet girls who populated the library. His brow cocks as he catches your agitated expression, a sinister grin flashes only noticeable by you, before he covers it with a mask of innocence to all those around. Coquettish banter surrounds the room, words spilling from his lips covered in honey, gobbled up eagerly by the many followers. The fools of girls willing landing in the sweet nectar of his venus fly trap.

Rolling your eyes at his feigned saccharine commentary, and his attempt at being witty, you storm your way over towards him. Thundering clouds growing in your wake at your rising irritation. Ignoring the dirty looks thrown your way, you push through the gaggle of girls. “You really are an asshole, you know that?” Your voice tears through his conversation, sharp as a blade, your glare deathly, shaking the ravaged book at him. “I know this is your doing.”

Dark brown eyes roll up aloofly, drinking in your exasperated energy, his lip quirk holding back a smirk. He shrugs his shoulders. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” His tongue darts out slowly, licking his lips as his eyes stare at you with an intensity that holds warning you should be ready for. But within seconds, a pleasant smile replaces his once ornery expression, his gaze moving to the neighbouring female audience. “You’ve clearly mistaken me for someone else, sweetheart.”

The gaggle of geese like gals erupt into a fit of laughter, some rolling their eyes at your little misunderstanding. To them, Lorenzo Berkshire is nothing but a shiny knight of armour. He’s every bit the gentleman, a helping hand. It was all a facade, and you seemed to have been the only one to pick up on it. Enzo knew this. Scoffing under your breath, you slam the book down; it falls open to the shards of ripped paper, turning and making your way back to your belongings.

You catch the start of disparaging gossip erupting out amongst the gathered girls, mutters about your ridiculous and rude attitude towards sweet Enzo. Your body flares with a heated energy, the temperature sweltering beneath your skin itching, burning in frustration. The embarrassment you felt being so easily dismissed by Enzo riled your blood, causing you to tear your sweater off in annoyance. Marching down into the thick of the library, scouring the bustling shelves for another copy of the novel you were once immersed in. Ambitiously you look assuring yourself a second print must exist in the ancient library of Hogwarts.

At your stroppy departure, Enzo watches onwards, smirking at the riled up attitude you're displaying, a deep satisfaction glowing, blooming in his pit. It doesn’t last long as the once betrothed flock of desperate females disperse from around him; the chatter following. His once lively corner now stood still, a silent hum drifting through the air. Enzo drops his feet from their propped position, an anger rising at the realisation you had done this. Whether or not intentional, you had disrupted his tactical approach and ruined his chances of scoring. Exhaling an exasperated breath, he grits his teeth, frustrated by his growing temper, and hastily follows you into the depth of the shelves.

He moves amidst the shadows of the towering lumber encapsulating the rows of delicate books, his eyes stalking you with a ferocity intensity. His icy eyes stay targeted on you, burning into the back of your skull with a deadly glare, his mind boiling beyond irritation at your earlier interruption. He moves swiftly, a cascading rush of water on its quest for more thirst, seeking gratification from you. Watching your unguarded nature walk towards the reading material by muggle born authors, his mind turns with a carnal energy, watching his prey inattentively stumble confidently into the spider's web.

Jolting forwards, you wince at the sharpness of the wood digs into your chest, your hands falling to steady yourself on the edge of the bookcase. The wind is knocked out of you at the force the invader applies to your back, a hot breath snarling in your ear. “Fucking ruined my chances back there y/l/n, all for what, you to whine over how your precious book was destroyed.”

The quickness in which your heart jumps up your throat is like a bolt of lighting, striking your nerves with a sensation that makes you still. A thumping rings out in your ears, your heart rate increasing at the recognition of his voice and the anger that is laced within his tone. Any signs of your past frustration vanish, your temperature rising again, but by the close contact between you, his own heat radiating, flowing onto yours. “What did I tell you about interfering with my shit?”

It doesn’t take an intellect to realise his question is clearly rhetorical. A surge of fear and arousal consumes your body, your mixed emotions clear by the breathy whimper that escapes you. His words are laced with a deep resentment for you, as his fingers grip, digging into the sides of your waist. “I think you’re just needy for attention. Can’t help but be jealous of all my admirers, huh?”

The rising anger instantly simmers your fear by the cockiness exhaled into your ear. The peak of your annoyance grows at his arrogant blow, feeling the heat of his breath on the nape of your neck. An agitated huff leaves your lips. “You're full of shit Berkshire. I know you ripped those pages out.”

Enzo chuckles deeply, murmuring back with a sarcastic taunt, “come on now, you think an angel like me would do that.” His hands twist, spinning your body to greet him, his lips pull into a tantalizing grin, his eyes gleam with threat, “why don’t you be a good girl for’me and stop spreading bullshit.”

Tilting your head, the harshness of his hand as it clenches your chin sends a wave of heat rippling throughout you. His cold gaze studies the candor of your eyes, blown wide with lust, and no room for your desire to hide. The ambiance of the once bubbling library clouds with a spike of anticipation, the growing tension lingers between the two of you. Sliding his hand further back to hold the back of your neck, he doesn’t waste time claiming your lips.

The kiss was nothing but sweet, as the power of Enzo’s dominating force sweeps through, pressing onto your lips. His tongue pushes demanding entrances which you grant almost instantly, unable to stop yourself melting despite his roughness. Your hands fumble, moving to hold on to any part of him, already overwhelmed by the sensations he makes you feel.

His lips move, attacking your neck with heated kisses while his hands continue to press you firmly into the bookshelves, enticing small whimpers from you. A satisfied grin is felt, teeth scraping against your skin, his hands maneuvering down quickly and under your skirt. You're in no position to protest knowing how wet you already are, despite your ongoing hatred with Enzo.

He knows it too. A deep chuckle rumbling in your ear as he manages to slide his hand under your panties, sliding his fingers along your slit. “Wow, no surprises here, already soaking for me like the little slut you are.” You moan at the pressure of his digits pushing into you, his lips still covering your neck in warm wet kisses. A clear goal set in his mind to mark your body, leaving it displayed with an array of purple scatters. “Can’t even hide your growing desire for me sweetheart, been craving me haven’t you.”

Shame washes over you, finding yourself tangled in the same old web, the same old tale. Unable to help your wanted longing for him, you involuntarily release another moan, feeling his digits stretching you out. Your body erupts with hot flashes, your hands gripping tightly to his shirt, while you attempt to shoot him a glare. Not allowing yourself to utter a word and give him the satisfaction, but it does little to bruise his ego.

His eyes gleam with pure delight at seeing you weakened by him again, like a moth drawn to a flame, the corrupted path of a recidivist. “Just so needy for me, aren’t you, angel. going to let me do whatever I want, huh.” His fingers thrust faster, vigorously spurring more desperate moans from your lips. He watches as your feeble glare melts away while you greedily clench around his fingers. “Go on, tell me to stop.”

His lips curl into a sadistic grin, his eyes bore into you with a delicious intensity that has your head thudding back against the solid wood. Though mostly hidden away in the muggle born section, a small part of you remembers your surroundings as you grow weary of the lingering students around corners. But you do nothing to stop him, your mouth stuck in the repeated motion of panting breathless moans. His fingers pull, retreating out, your eyes flicking open at the sudden absence of his touch, making you cringe at your pathetic desperation for him.

He laughs a cold, condescending snigger. Icy fingers brush your cheek tapping your chin up to tilt your head back. “you love this don’t you, can’t even muster up the strength to tell me to stop me.”

Making haste, his coated fingers tug on your undies relishing in how you naturally widen your legs apart, letting them slide down. He knows how badly you're craving this, despite how he treats you. And it only fuels him more, you’re essentially helping load his gun, you're the one willing handing over the detonator to the explosive that sits within you. “You really do want me to fuck you in the library.” His voice carries out a smugness that makes you want to smother him.

Shallow breaths hit his chin, your eyes lowering cowardly as any last shards of pride wash away. The notion that if anyone came around the corner they’d see you flushed, with your undies hanging down your legs. A bile taste of shame sits on your tongue at your own desperate desire for this man. A man of many talents, a wolf dressed in sheep’s clothing. How have you, of all people, fallen deep into the spiraling trap that is Lorenzo Berkshire. Not even the sweet false charms he manipulates people with, but to the true him. It made you feel sick knowing you were willingly allowing yourself to be seduced by the true version of him.

Your lack of response gives him all the answers he needs, causing him to chuckle darkly, tutting, “but I’m not going to, until you beg me. Put those lips to better use and ask me sweetly." His head tilts tauntingly at his dare to you, he already knows you'll do it but adds in an ultimatum."And maybe I won't leave you here like the pathetic mess you are."

How wrong were you to think your pride couldn’t be shrunk anymore, but it crumbled, swallowed whole in one go at his smug request. Shrivelled up to the size of a spec floating out in space, and he could sense it, a wicked grin spreading, highlighting his gorgeous face. His eyes taint you, waiting for you to give in like you always do, his fingers guide along your skin in a sort of soothing way, but there’s a sense of dominance within their hold.

At your silence to his request he groans, his patience running thin, fingers hard as iron grip your chin to hold his gaze. His next words slice through the air in a sickening hiss, “so quick to make a scene back there, wanting my attention. And now you hold it all in, sweetheart.” His eyes flash with a sense of anger at having to repeat himself, “So beg me to fuck you, slut.”

His fingers insert back up into your cunt, a desperate whine pulling from you, fingers instantly soaked in your juices, having grown even wetter from his degrading words. His anger simmers at the realization and he moves his fingers, curling them painfully slowly, another whimper escaping you. Your own body’s patience is shrinking as your mind and pussy fight with defiance. Unwilling to break yet, you utter out a quiet plead, "Berk will you fuck me.”

Enzo’s fingers still, slipping out, letting the chilled air brush against your swollen cunt his fingers tantalizingly move to rub your clit. “That wasn't very nice, angel. Do it again and say please.” He commands, his lips moving to ravage your neck, nipping a little more aggressively. He’s enjoying this as he always does, the growing need to hear your words is like a sweet nectar he's craving to have injected into his body. Your submission and desperation is what he craves, what he needs to feel fulfilled.

Your eyes narrow, teeth gritting as he continues his taunting ministrations rubbing your sensitive clit. Despite your desperation increasing to tenfold, you can’t help giving him some cheek, letting out a mocking plea. “Oh Enzo fuck, please I need you, im craving you so badly.” Adding to the effect, you release an overtop pornographic moan a little loud, suddenly feeling your bolder self reemerge.

The enjoyment of seeing Enzo’s face contorting into a grimace, a darkening scowl adorning his face. “Shut that mouth before I do it for you.”

Your eyes gleam with amusement, “You told me to beg, I did as you asked. Does that not make you happy, Sir.”

Enzo has no time or appreciation for your brattiness, “Enough.” His hand against your jaw tightens intensely, his cold brown eyes piercing into yours. With haste, he’s grabbing at your tie and stuffing the makeshift gag into your mouth, watching your eyes widen. He smirks in mild amusement at your sturdiness, before he’s pulling his hands away from your cunt and trapping your own hands into the bookcases.

Swiftly his belt is unlatched, and with a quick tug he’s freeing his throbbing cock, a sharp exhale breathed, hitting the skin of your neck. His eyes shimmer with a craze, feeling his tip sliding forwards, sinking into the warmth of your pussy he releases a deep groan. The sound of your muffled noises causes him to smirk arrogantly at shutting you up, his brows scrunching, breath ragged as he shifts his hips, rocking into you. "Fuck me...god always such a tight pussy." He murmurs breathlessly.

Your body is inflamed at the sensation, frustration rising at being gagged, though the feeling of his cock being buried deep inside you makes you unable to glare properly. His grip on your wrists burns, your skin pinching harshly as your back is slammed into the wood at his relentless pace. Biting down on the tie at the growth of your climax, he watches, sensing your closeness already.

“No no, hold that fucking shit. needy sluts like you don’t get to come yet.” His raw tone breathes into your ears as he scrapes his teeth against the shell, the strain clear as the pleasure pulses through him. He can’t get enough of the way your pussy fits too perfectly for his cock. The compelling pull of power itches through him when he watches your eyes squeeze shut, the delicious sounds of your muffling moans in protest.

Despite not acting originally like every girl falling at his feet, you always eventually did. That was a sweet satisfaction that thrilled him more than anything. “Such a fucking slut, you're so bloody predictable y/n.” He breathes harshly in your ear, kissing hard down your neck. “Just love to be degraded like this don’t you.”

His hips thrust vigorously, roaming his free hand up under your blouse, groping over the surface of your tits, pulling it free from the confines of your bra. Hands cold and large squeeze at them hastily, kneading his fingertips deep, almost painful into the tender flesh. A loud squeal escapes through the fabric of your gag, nimble fingers pinching at your sensitive buds, sending you into overdrive. His lips gloss over the shell of your ear at the pleasant noise. “Someone’s feeling sensitive. You poor thing.”

Knees weakening, your muscles wobble on the verge of collapsing at the inexorable ministrations, he pushes your body to endure. Skin burning at every touch of his fingertips, your legs struggle to keep steady, which Enzo notices. Readjusting his hold, allowing your hands freedom from his clasp, he replaces his hold on your hip sturdily. Fresh oxygen seeps into your lungs at your own removal of the gag, though it’s stolen from you instantly with the claim of Enzo’s hungry lips. A kiss that directs power and control, his tongue forcibly commanding entrance with cogency.

The warmth that envelops you from his feverish kiss and the devilish toying on your overly sensitive nipples nears you to your breaking point. Your desire, like an overflowing dam threatening to spill as you gasp out babbling in need, “Enzo please i’m going to cum -.”

He senses your seriousness, groaning at how your pussy clenches his cock tightly, suffocating him till he’s near choking on his breath at the pleasurable feeling. A guttural groan rips from him as he snares in your ear, “Fucking cum on my cock then slut.” You don’t need to be told twice, letting your orgasm pulse through you, your stomach coiling in pleasure. With a soft thud, your head rests on the hardened wood, incoherent moans falling from your lips.

Enzo watches entranced, eyes glowing with his own ecstasy at seeing you fall apart. Though he couldn’t stand you and your inability to always interfere with his plans, he took great gratification in being the one to wreck you. The one to push you over the edge in more ways than one, the satisfaction that you hated him for his counterfeit ulterior was just too delicious not too divine when you submitted. Time after time, an abiding loop you were stuck in, a broken record and your luscious moans were the melody that Enzo’s ears itched to hear repeated till the end of time.

There is little interval between your climax and trying to catch your breath, for Enzo’s hip continuously snaps into your cunt at a brutal pace. Squeezing tightly onto his arms, your eyes plead for him to ease his speed, show mercy on your overwhelmingly sensitive cunt. But it's Lorenzo fucking Berkshire, and he doesn’t do benevolence. He does the opposite in comparison, instead reaching up to clutch your throat, squeezing it just past gently, to show his dominance. The stretch of his hand fits perfectly around your delicate skin, his fingers curl around the nape of your neck, watching how your eyes roll back in pleasure.

He shoots you a sadistic grin, cooing, “you look so pretty when your put in your place.” His eyes glimmer with threat, possessively drinking you in a black widow about to eat its mate. You can’t decipher between your thrill and fear, descending further down the rabbit hole of your lust. His eyes shift, closing as he rests his forehead against yours, almost sweetly, his movements becoming jerky and erratic at his own rising climax. His breath hits you, a heat wave of desire and lust, releasing a deep groan as his hips slam forcibly deeper into you. His body shudders, filling you up completely, his tip pressing tightly into your snug walls before he paints them, his muscles convulsing.

A wave of ecstasy swells throughout your body, injected deep into your veins as he ruptures inside of you, a sense of fulfilment warming you from seeing him spill over the edge. He stills his breath ragged, eyes still closed while he allows himself a moment. His hand loosens its grip around your throat, rubbing at the skin in a sort of caresses that takes you by surprise. It doesn’t last long before he pulls back from you, a stoic expression gracing his face while reassembling himself.

Gingerly, you gaze watching him, anticipation creeping inwards for his next move. Stepping back, Enzo takes in the mess he’s made, a beautifully haunting piece on a canvas, the flushness of your cheeks and wideness of your inquisitive eyes. He helps to redress you before reaching above your head to grab a book, though he’s quick to retract the novel out of reach. Raising it above your head, when he sees the recognition in your eyes and your eagerness to have your hands on it. His lips curling into an impish grin, “Aw you’re so naive, sweetheart, thought it would be that easy huh.”

At the realisation he will not give you the book you had been seeking, opens the earlier cut of simmering anger, now bubbling threatening to spill over the pot. Eyes narrowed, brows lowering, you stare heatedly at him, crossing your arms with a huff. “What’s it going to take for you to hand it over to Berkshire.”

Enzo’s eyes lighten at the ease in which you offer defeat. A deep chuckle vibrates out of him. “What do I want? Hmm.” With slowness, he rubs his chin, enjoying driving your patience up the wall. He put some thought into his request, but he needed nothing. Anything he wanted from you he had already taken. No doubt swam in his mind that he’d ever grow tired of taking it.

“No more outbursts, y/l/n. I want you to remain quiet about my dexterous facade. If you have a problem with me, you can address me privately. You understand?” There's little humor held in his swirling dark orbs, his tone melted down to a frosty blast.

Your face contorts, processing his words. The idea you couldn’t confront him in public anymore irritated you. It’s not like you ever planned on it, he just found a way to spoil your day and wake the dragon within you. Yet you find yourself nodding, eager to get your hands back on your book and finish your story. He grins, satisfied with your agreement with a shove he’s pushing the book into your grasp.

He pats your head condensing, “That’s a good girl. Happy reading angel.” With long strides, he’s halfway down the aisle slipping out of the shadows, a disguise resurfacing into the sunlight that seems to now shine down upon him. The wolf draped in sheep's wool camouflaged back amongst the rest of the followers, who can’t tell one side from the other.

Tearing your gaze from him, a grin widens upon your face, reading over the title of the novel Enzo had originally ruined. Flicking it open to examine the beautiful textures and scriptures, your draw drops in disbelief. You knew it was too good to be true. Why did you think Enzo would be nice? A wave of déjà vu washes over you, staring down at the ripped pages in the new copy, the exact spot you wished to regain. That little shit. Masterlist 🌟

#hehshshsh stop I love this so much #and tyyy for the feralness I felt writing this!!#he’s so toxic but i love him so much #I FEEL BLESSED BY YOUR REACTION #enzo berkshire #lorenzo berkshire

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