#thoughts from: pizzaapeteer

[amiableness]

Hi bb hope you’re staying nice and warm! 🤍💞🫂

hi lovie! it’s definitely cold here but i’ve been staying warm. every night i’ve been sitting by the fireplace and reading, it’s the best thing in the world. how are you??? i love you 🤍

[redeemingvillains]

obliviate - mattheo riddle

summary: when voldemort finds out about you and mattheo, he devises the perfect way to keep you apart.

word count: 5k

a/n: okeeey i know this is longer, but i actually adore it so much! kinda put my heart + soul into this one! extremely special shoutout to @pizzaapeteer's research on mattheo's favorite quidditch team, which provided a name i needed at the very end (hint hint!) ♡

warnings: angst (but also fluff, pls, it's me), use of the cruciatus curse, voldemort being voldemort.

soundtrack: dancing to the sound of a broken heart - galantis

OBLIVIATE (v.) -- To forget, to wipe from existence.

You noticed before he did.

It was early; the morning sun was just barely sneaking past the curtains in the window that fluttered gently in the autumn breeze, setting his bedroom in a deep golden hue. Your limbs were heavy with sleep and you were settled warmly in Mattheo’s arms, you could feel the rise and fall of his chest at your back, his warm breath on your neck. Normally this was your very favorite way to wake up, but something was off, something had made your eyelids flutter open, a feeling, a foreboding.

You didn’t want to wake him, gods knew he needed his sleep, so you squinted slowly around the room until your eyes rested on the very arms that were wrapped around you.

It was his dark mark, writhing against his skin.

No— you thought, but in an instant, Mattheo jolted awake, breathing heavily like he was coming out of a nightmare, or coming into one, and within a moment he was pulling his arms out from around you and you immediately felt cold for their absence.

“Matty” you whispered, turning to face him and reaching out for him, but he was already up and out bed, pulling his clothes on haphazardly.

He turned at the sound of your voice, looking longingly at you for the briefest moment, tangled in his sheets, perfect in the morning glow, your eyes begging him not to leave.

“Stay?” you asked quietly, and his stomach lurched. Fuck if you didn’t have the ability to bring him to his knees with just one word; but his arm burned and ached with impatience… He wouldn’t be kept waiting much longer and Mattheo could only come up with so many excuses as to why he was always late without exposing the truth, desperate to protect you.

“I have to…” he started, but he didn’t finish the statement, didn’t want to say what exactly he’d have to do and thank the gods you never asked.

“I know” you sighed.

“I love you” he said, leaning forward to kiss you sincerely, his fingers brushing your jawline, taking one last piece of humanity and goodness with him.

“I love you more” you whispered as his form disappeared in front of you, leaving you alone.

Mattheo knew the moment he arrived that something was deeply deeply wrong.

He recognized his surroundings at once: the Riddle family manor. The halls echoed with a silence so familiar to him and his childhood it felt like his heart stopped beating so as not to make a sound. Besides silence, though, he also felt the other hallmark of his childhood: loneliness. He was alone; not one in a mistakable mix of followers that he could slip into undetected, he was home, and he was alone, and he felt an uneasiness, a sickness settle over him as the hairs on the back of his neck began to rise and he turned to see his father stepping out of the shadows.

“Twelve minutes” he said by way of greeting, avoiding Mattheo’s eyes as he approached him like a predator would its prey.

“Twelve minutes. From the time I summoned you, until now. What, pray tell, was so pressing, so urgent as to cause your delay?”

Mattheo’s mind swept quickly over the image of you in his bed, your hair splayed on his pillow, the smile on your lips and your soft whisper as he’d apparated, but he quickly dismissed the thought.

“S’early” he said, kicking himself for how his voice waivered in its reply.

Voldemort nodded in mock understanding, like he was considering this, drawing out the silence between them, painfully so.

“So not only are you late, but you are also lying” he said, emphasizing the last word, spitting it like a hiss, his black eyes snapping to Mattheo’s in way that caused him to jolt in reply, an automatic defense mechanism against the only living being capable of scaring him as Voldemort stormed towards him, entering his personal space as his voice rose.

“Do you remember what happened to Alexei Donovan when he lied to me?” he asked.

Mattheo’s eyes shifted between his fathers, swallowing, vividly remembering watching Nagini devour Donovan limb from limb.

“ANSWER ME!” his voice boomed.

“Y-y-yeah” he stuttered.

“Yes, my Lord” Voldemort corrected him.

“Yes, my Lord” Mattheo repeated.

And then Voldemort’s tone changed completely, as he took a step back and a smile spread across his inhuman face, which was somehow more disturbing than the alternative.

“But I am a merciful Lord, aren’t I?” he asked, his head cocked, daring Mattheo to disagree.

“Yes, my Lord” he said.

Voldemort nodded in approval.

“Yes, I am. And what a relief that must be to Ms. YLN at this very moment, hmm?” he asked, his eyes clocking Mattheo’s reaction as the blood drained from his face, his eyes blew wide and his shaking hand reached for his wand.

You watched the empty space where Mattheo had apparated like he might change his mind and come back, perhaps willing him to, before you laid back down, settling for his lingering warmth and his smell against the sheets when you heard footsteps outside the door.

You sat up, excited...naive you would think later, so fucking naive with the hope that he had returned, only to feel the blast of the door getting blown off of its hinges as you moved to cover your face from the flying debris.

Mattheo was breathing erratically, his chest visibly rising and falling with pure, unadulterated rage mixed with a fear so palpable it was like he could taste it on his tongue. He was desperately trying to rein in his emotions and failing miserably as his mind catapulted over every worst case scenario.

He spoke, finally, conjuring the only thing he could think to say as his brain continued in overdrive.

"Don't" he said firmly, threateningly, his voice level for the first time that morning.

His father smiled broadly without an ounce of kindness behind his eyes as they narrowed.

"You never learn… What did I tell you? What have I always told you? This—" he said, gesturing to Mattheo's body shaking in fight or flight mode "—is weakness. Look at you!" he said with disgust, with disdain, "You're worthless. You can't decide what to you, your mind is divided when it should be focused; you're thinking of her when you should be thinking only of yourself!"

Mattheo heard every word he was saying, but all he could think about was you, about how to get back to you, how to stop whatever had already begun; but it was like chasing a train on foot that had long since left the station, no matter how badly he wanted to jump in front of it, it was far too late.

"So, one question remains" Voldemort said, circling him again. "You...Or her?" he asked, sneering.

Mattheo's eyes flicked darkly to his father. "Me or her what?" he said through gritted teeth.

"Surely you understand that I can't allow this relationship to continue with the way it's destroying you, and while the Carrows provided me with a lengthy list of ways we could enforce that" he said, smiling, letting the threat of his most devoted followers linger. "I have something much simpler in mind." He stopped pacing, snapping to face Mattheo fully, his robes flourishing around him.

"I will have your memories" he said proudly. "And one of you will forget their feelings for the other... forever" he whispered as Mattheo felt weak in his knees, like they'd buckle beneath the weight of what had been said.

"So, whose will it be?" Voldemort asked.

You felt excruciating pain in every limb, every tendon, every bone, and when you opened your mouth to scream, the Carrows took your words.

All you could do was watch them through the tears that poured out of your eyes in your silent struggle, willing, praying for Mattheo to come back, pleading with him in your mind; please, please, please you thought even as you felt your resolve and strength waning.

Mattheo's mouth had run dry and there was bile in the back of his throat at the impossible decision before him: Either forget the brightest light in his life, perhaps the only thing keeping him steady in an ever-spiraling world, forget the way your skin felt under his fingertips, the smell of your shampoo, how tightly you squeezed him when he hugged you, or the sound of your laugh, the way you listened sincerely to him with your full attention or rubbed his back when he couldn't sleep; forget the only and most sincere feeling of love he’d ever experienced.

Or worse, meet your eyes and not see a light behind them, the way they'd twinkle with adoration for him, watch you forget him completely and live life instead as your friend, a bystander, maybe even watch you fall in love with someone else... His stomach lurched.

...But in a way, isn't that what you deserved? To live a life free of all of this, free of him and the pain he caused you, constantly, every time he had to leave, every time he had to live this second life. You were meant for more than this, you deserved to be loved by someone who could give you everything in return.

"Hers" he spluttered. "Take her memories" he said quickly before he could change his mind.

Voldemort nodded obligingly before waving a hand, dismissing him.

Your eyes fluttered open as you lay in your four-poster bed, a soft smile on your lips as you saw the morning sun just barely sneaking past the curtains in the window that fluttered gently in the autumn breeze, setting your bedroom in a deep golden hue.

Your limbs were heavy with sleep and you were settled warmly in your sheets. You felt refreshed, though you had the smallest echo of a headache that you attempted to rub away as you got ready for the day.

You made your way down to breakfast, settling in amongst your friends.

"Good morning!" you said cheerfully as you took your usual seat between Pansy and Blaise.

"Good morning, babes!" Pansy chirped as the boys nodded, waved, and greeted you in various acknowledgements. You grabbed a pastry and pressed closer to Blaise to help him with the crossword puzzle in the Daily Prophet. You were deeply focused on the black and white print when Mattheo wandered in, sliding onto the bench across from you. His movement caught your eye and you glanced at him and offered a small wave before returning your attention to the paper.

And that was all he got.

A glance, a smile that he tried to hold on to, to see if there was even a glimmer of recollection behind it. But there was nothing.

The spell was strong. It had tied up every lose end. Your things were gone from his room, your pictures together wiped clear by the time he returned, even your hair tie had disappeared from his wrist. And when he crawled into his bed, and realized your scent was gone from his sheets, he pulled his pillow over his head to mask his muffled sob.

Now not even his friends remembered your relationship, he realized, as he looked around at them, all totally unphased by the fact that you weren't glued to each other's side. At once he craved the way Theo complained incessantly about your PDA, and Blaise teased him for being whipped. He would give anything anything for something other than the complete ignorance in front of him.

He'd never felt so alone.

A few days later, you noticed Mattheo was...off. Even moreso than usual. You were used to him being standoffish, reserved, a total closed book, but you sensed something different about him. You had never been close, but something about his demeanor kept catching your attention.

"Are you okay?" you asked him that weekend at the Slytherin house party.

You'd had to raise your voice to be heard over the crowd and the loud music and his eyes snapped to yours, almost in shock, before they began intently searching your face.

You looked back at him, confused, waiting for a reply.

"M'fine" he said finally, taking a long drink from his cup in an effort to occupy hands that desperately wanted to pull you into him and lips that desperately wanted to tell you a truth that didn't exist anymore.

"Lighten up, Matty!" you said, gently shoving him on his chest as you walked away, and he nearly choked on his firewhiskey, because there was only one person in his life that had ever called him that, and it was you, beginning the night you'd first time told him you loved him.

He watched you walk away and fade back into the crowded party, wondering, daring to hope that there was a way to get you back.

After that night, Mattheo’s attention on you increased tenfold. The following morning he'd squeezed his way next to you at breakfast, nearly knocking Blaise off the bench as he slid you your favorite coffee.

"Oh!...Thank you?" you'd said, surprised as you peered over his shoulder at Blaise and then looked down at the latte. "How did you—?"

"—Can I walk you to class?" he asked eagerly, a smile on his face.

"Suuureeee" you said hesitantly.

Then, he wanted to walk you to every class, and he'd even offered to carry your books. It was kind, endearing even, but it felt misplaced, so out-of-the-blue that it caught you off guard and confused you.

"Mattheo, I really want to thank you for everything you've been doing for me" you said finally as you walked out of your potions class to find him waiting for your eagerly, like a puppy, a smile on his face. Your eyes shifted to the classmates that walked by, eyeing the two of you together. "I just want you to know, I'm not really looking for anything serious. We're friends, that would be a little...weird, you know?" you said gently.

A moment.

And then he felt a chasmic split in his heart that he didn’t think he’d live through once, let alone twice. It had never occurred to him that there was a world in which you wouldn’t fall madly in love with him again as your words brought a memory rushing forward...

"Is this going to be weird?—" you asked, breathless, until his lips cut you off again, crashing to yours as his hands pulled you further against him in the broom closet. "—Darling, I could not care less" he murmured against you, and you laughed as your fingers tangled into the curls at the base of his neck and he felt your tongue against his own. “Mmm our friends are going to lose their mind” you whispered, grinning wickedly at him.

"Matty?" you asked, concerned at the look on his face, pulling him out of the memory, even as he tried and failed to hold on to it.

His eyes refocused on yours as his face darkened.

"Why are you calling me that?" he asked abruptly, his eyes narrowing.

"What?" you asked, taken aback at his tone.

"Matty. Why are you calling me that?"

"I—" you started before looking up at him, confused, feeling the dull ache of one of your more frequently occurring headaches coming on. "I-I don't know" you said quickly, a blush rising to your cheeks as you pushed past him.

He turned and punched the wall forcefully, feeling his knuckles crack in response.

Weeks went by. Every second in your existence was a painful reminder of what he would never have again, and yet he refused to distance himself, desperate for your laugh even if was for someone else, your smile, even if he wasn't the one to put it there.

Sometimes he swore he saw the slightest recollection in your eyes; he'd catch you looking at him, and you'd smile when he caught your eye, but it was always friendly, never like the look you used to give him, with the glimmer of something sinfully mischievous beneath it that had the two of you tumbling into his bed between classes.

The whole situation was setting him on edge, making him more anxious and fidgety than he'd ever been. But, of course, no one seemed to notice, his friends either chalking it up to his normal idiosyncrasies or bewitched to ignore his unusual behavior.

Now he was staring at the book in his lap, reading the same line over and over and over again, his mind running ragged as you sat beside him. At this distance he could smell your perfume, could feel your warmth radiating next to him and his heart ached at your proximity.

He hadn't realized he was doing it at first, but his leg was jiggling incessantly between the two of you, his jitters working at the pace of his mind, his body's panicked response to being so tantalizingly close to you, so desperate for you and not being able to have you. Suddenly he felt a warm hand on his leg, resting there gently as fingers began to trace a familiar pattern on his thigh, causing his jittering to slow along with his heart, which had now dropped into his stomach.

He glanced sidelong at you, afraid to move an inch, terrified that you would stop. He noticed you hadn’t broken your concentration on your book, perhaps hadn’t even realized you were touching him, it was like your body was moving on autopilot to comfort him in the very way you used to, tracing hearts on his thigh before nuzzling into him or pressing a warm kiss to his cheek.

He held his breath with the hope that this might mean something deeper, that there was a piece of you that remembered him as he closed his eyes, and tried to focus on the pattern of your fingers, the simple touch nearly bringing him to tears as he tried to let himself live in the memory of you.

You were right at the very best part of your book, the plot finally taking off, when you felt the familiar ache in your head that very quickly turned to a throbbing that brought you back to the present moment, and made you realize your hand had been resting on Mattheo’s thigh.

“Oh, gods!” you said suddenly, pulling your hand back quickly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t—” you started until you saw the pained expression on his face, his eyes closed, his head hung as his hand carded through his hair. Your headache was pounding in full now, enough to make you wince and touch your temple. His eyes fluttered open, looking at you with concern.

“YN—?”

“—S-Sorry!” you said quickly, gathering your things and beelining for your room.

“Have you noticed anything… different with Mattheo recently?” you asked Pansy that weekend.

You were laying on your stomach on your bed, flipping casually through a magazine as she sat next to you, admiring her nails as she painted them a deep emerald.

You’d tried to ask as nonchalantly as you could, but she looked up at you with an eyebrow raised in question.

“I don’t know he’s been so… strange with me. He’s wanted to walk me to class, and carry my books, he wants to hang out all the time and he somehow knew how I liked my latte…?” you trailed off, leaving out the way your hand had ghosted over him, the expression on his face, and your recurring headaches that didn't feel like a coincidence anymore, flaring up every time you were around him.

A moment passed but Pansy didn’t reply and when you looked at her you saw that her expression hadn’t changed; she was staring blankly at you, not saying a word, which was extraordinarily odd to put it mildly.

This was the type of gossip that would usually have her on her feet, screaming, spiraling, devising a messy plan to get two of her best friends together, but you were getting nothing in return, less than nothing.

“Pans?” you goaded, prompting a response.

Her head tilted slightly, abnormally in a way that was starting to creep you out as her blank stare continued and you slowly pulled yourself upright and away from her.

“Let it go” she said flatly. “You’re imagining things.”

You were taken aback and started to respond before she interrupted you.

“—I mean, you can’t think that he’s into you or something, do you? He would never go for you… what would he see in you? What could you possibly have to offer the Dark Lord’s son YN? He’s got girls lined up out the door for him.”

You felt tears sting your eyes as you sat up fully now. Never once in your almost ten years of friendship had she ever said anything like that to you before. You were hurt, but you also couldn’t help but feel like something was very very wrong as fear fluttered in your heart at her dark words and unnatural expression.

Suddenly, your mind snapped black for a moment to another time you felt foreboding, felt fear in your bones, screaming silently with no one to hear you and you stumbled to your feet, wiping the tears from your eyes as your head throbbed so hard you were afraid you were going to be sick.

Pansy looked up at you, and smiled, unphased by the way you were shaking or swiping at your running mascara as she smiled. “Want to go to dinner babes?” she asked cheerful again, like she had forgotten everything she’d just said to you.

“I-I’ve got to go” you said quickly, as you made your way for the door, desperate to find the person you sensed was responsible for this all.

You made your way to the common room in slow motion, like one of those dreams where you’re running but not actually going anywhere. You felt flushed and feverish as your body began to tremble and the room felt like it was distorting itself. You looked around frantically and found Mattheo walking in your group of friends on their way to dinner.

“YN!” Blaise cheered, noticing you approach as Draco and Theo turned in concert, smiling widely at you with uncannily happy expressions.

But the minute Mattheo’s eyes landed on you, his smile dropped to concern and he quickly approached you, closing the distance between you.

“What’s wrong?” he asked immediately, reaching for you before pulling his hands back awkwardly.

“Can I talk to you?” you winced as your headache intensified “Please?”

“Yeah, of course” he said eagerly, motioning to his friends, “I’ll catch up with you” he said, nearly ignoring them completely as he led you back towards their now empty room.

He shut the door behind you both and you swayed on your feet before moving between the four poster beds and sitting on the edge of his.

There were five identical beds in the room and he tried not to read too much into the fact that you’d known which was his, even though in this reality you’d never been here. And then he tried to calm the erratic beating of his heart of you being here, alone with him, in his room, shaking the thought from his mind quickly as he took in the pained look on your face, your eyes pinched closed as you rubbed your temple

He came quickly to you, kneeling in front of you, moving to place his hands on your legs and pulling back, never knowing what the fuck to do with them anymore around you.

“What’s going on—” he started.

“—What did you do to me?” you whispered harshly, your eyes fluttering open, your face scrunched angrily in accusation.

“What?” he asked, confused.

“Mattheo, something is very very wrong, and you can’t tell me you don’t know what I’m talking about.”

He stopped breathing. It couldn’t be.

“Our friends aren’t normal, people around us aren’t normal, and I feel like my insides are on fucking fire” you said, grimacing. “And it only happens when I’m around you. I’m not an idiot, Mattheo, is this because I turned you down?”

For his part he looked like he was about to cry, he didn’t look threatening or guilty, just enormously sad as he looked up at you with his amber eyes and your headache split to a nearly debilitating degree and tears flowed from your eyes in pain.

“My head” you said in a muffled sob.

You felt his warm hands rest on your legs, the first time he’d let himself touch you in months and you felt another flash in your mind, him smiling down at you with a lopsided grin in a way you’d never seen him look at you before, with adoration, with longing, with love, but it didn’t feel weird this time, it felt normal, so familiar…

“YN?” he whispered and your eyes fluttered open to see his transfixed on you, scanning your every feature, his expression full of concern. “Please hear me when I say I would never ever hurt you.” A lie he realized too late as he looked at you now.

“I-I know that?” you said shakily. “Somehow I know that but I don’t know how else to explain this or how I’m feeling” you said, sniffling.

“Fuck!” he muttered in frustration as he stood up and started pacing, running his fingers through his hair. He was certain that something was happening and yet he had no idea how to help you, the image of you crying in pain on his bed making him physically ill.

You sniffed again and said the next sentence so softly he swore he'd dreamt it.

“You have a scar on your shoulder, here” you said, gesturing over your own shoulder blade, tracing the same pattern of the raised skin on his back.

“You take your tea with milk and two sugars” your voice wobbled but was gaining strength as you kept speaking and he turned to look at you.

“You write left-handed but play quidditch right handed.”

Your eyes squeezed shut, words tumbling from your mouth now, like a broken dam.

“You always wanted a dog growing up and if you’d had one you would have named him—"

“—Zoryn” you said simultaneously. He moved to approach you, crouching in front of you again as he stared at you in awe, unable to believe what was going on.

Your eyes opened at his voice.

“After my favorite quidditch player” he said. “YN you’re the only person who knows that.”

“Why do I know these things?” you asked, pained.

He opened us mouth but nothing came out.

“Matty” you were practically beginning him to help you understand but he was too scared to be wrong, too scared to tell you the truth.

“...I’m the only one that calls you that” you whispered, and he nodded encouragingly.

“Yeah, you are” he said quietly, gently.

You reached out tentatively, your hand trembling and touched his cheek and he let his head fall against the palm of your hand, nuzzling into you as his eyes fluttered closed. You sniffed again.

“It’s okay, love, I’m here” he said tenderly.

“B-But you weren’t there” you said, breathing heavily all of a sudden, panicked. “I-I was scared and I wanted you there and you weren’t there…” and just like that your eyes blinked to his and memories came like an avalanche as you stood and he rose his feet beside you.

The first time he kissed you, the feeling of his warm palm in yours, tangling your fingers in his curls, feeling the gentle rise and fall of his chest in bed, the way he’d pull you onto his lap at breakfast and everyone would moan about it, him nuzzling into your neck, his arms around your waist and his hand at the small of your back in the corridor between classes. His lopsided grin as his amber eyes twinkled down at you and he whispered “Gods, I’m crazy about you, darling”

“I remember! I remember!” you said finally looking up at the real Mattheo standing in front of you, his face somewhere between sheer panic and shock and suddenly the inches between you were too much as you flew into his arms, wrapping yourself around him as he lifted you off the ground.

“Fuck baby” he said as you felt him shaking beneath you. “I’m sorry I’m so fucking sorry. He made me. M-made me choose, your memories or mine and—“ he choked up as hand came to rest on the back of your head, holding you closer to him “—I didn’t want you to live a moment in any reality thinking I didn’t love you.”

“It’s okay, Matty, it’s okay” you murmured against him, clinging to him, to the moment.

“None of this is okay” he said back.

“It’s ok now” you reassured him.

He made to pull back but you squeezed him tighter, afraid.

“I don’t want to forget” you mumbled into his neck.

“You’re not going to” he said through a laugh, the first time the sound had left his lips in months.

“Let me guess” you sniffed against him, fighting the knowing smile on your lips, “because you’re unforgettable” you grumbled at his cocky humor.

“Well, yeah” he said, laughing genuinely now, even as you pinched him.

“But more importantly—” he said as he took a step forward to lay you down on his bed so he could look at you, could finally see the sparkle of recognition in your eyes that he had been craving. You were looking back at him like you were committing his every feature to memory, your stomach flipping at how beautiful he was, at how you could ever forget it, tracing the scar at his eyebrow, his flushed cheeks, his lips and noting the twinkle in his eyes.

“—You’re not going to forget because the most powerful wizard alive already tried to make you, and it didn’t fucking work.”

You smiled at him, resolutely. “I could never forget you.”

“That’s right, baby” he said as he leaned down to brush his lips against yours, lingering for just a moment, savoring it like it was the first time all over again.

taglist: @dustie-faerie, @urfavfrenchgrl, @darlingshecried, @thegoddessofnothingness, @kenjikishimotoswifey, @mattiesgf @sleepiibunniiii @girllblogging777 @foivetimesacharm @clar2aa @broadwaybaby123 @slytherinscreamqueen @sectumsempraaa

[amongemeraldclouds]

dark desires

Theodore Nott had been the perfect boyfriend, yet there’s a darkness within him that you longed to unravel, to explore. So this Halloween, you came up with a proposal: a spooky mask, a haunted house, and a night for dark desires. Be careful what you wish for.

dark!Theodore Nott x f!Reader

Warnings: 18+ mdni, characters are aged up, dom!Theo, consensual non-consent (cnc), roleplay, knife kink, mask kink, oral (m! and f!receiving), degradation, praise kink, daddy kink, fingering, mirror sex, piv, creampie

a/n: posting my first ever kinktober fic! thanks to my wifeyy @pizzaapeteer for proofreading, you're the best ♡

✿ Masterlist | ✿ Theodore Nott Masterlist | 4.4k words

Prologue

Theodore Nott is the ideal boyfriend. He celebrated your wins with you and encouraged you when you faced challenges. You received thoughtful gifts from him and your conversations always led you to new discoveries about the world. Being with him was an adventure just as much as it was home.

Yet the more you got to know him, the deeper your curiosity grew. Theo is a complicated person and it was clear there’s always more to him beneath his wild hair and ocean eyes. There was especially a darkness in him that drew you in. A shadow he hid from the world and you wanted to be that one person he could share it with. The one he confided in, explored it with. After all, it was the same darkness you saw in yourself. And so, you came up with a proposal.

One night of unrestrained exploration, a safe place for your dark desires.

“I want to know all of you. I’m not afraid of your dark,” you said, ending your proposal.

Theo hesitated, “you should be afraid.” Yet there was an unmistakable glint in his eye, a wilderness that rattled against the cage of his stoic restraint. Desperate and ready to be let out.

“That’s for me to decide,” you argued, searching his eyes. Asking him to trust you. “I want to know who you are when no one's watching. I want you to show me all the sinful acts you'd do to me knowing I'd take it all and enjoy every last touch,” you elaborated, sliding a finger down his chest.

Theo closed his eyes and sighed, his composure waning at your words. “Fuck, how did I get so lucky?” Seeming to gather himself, he hesitated. “But I don’t want to hurt you.”

“It's okay, I promise. I want to free us from the restraints of polite society. Just you and me, Theo, let’s carve our own world together.”

His eyes softened, you were already his entire world. “Do you trust me?” he asked, gently caressing your hair as you laid in the crook between his shoulders and neck. 

“Always.”

“That’s my girl,” Theo leaned in to plant a kiss on your forehead, sending tingles down your spine.

You basked in his praise and continued, “how would you feel about roleplaying a stranger in a mask? I promise we’ll discuss the details, set rules, and establish a safe word.”

He smirked, “I think we’re going to have so much fun.”

A faint glow led you deeper into the hallway. Around you, cobwebs were strewn across cracked tombstones, the names far too smeared to read. Your heart slammed against your ribcage as your hands shook. Another scream pierced the air from a distance. Your only companion was the weight that settled in your stomach the second you stepped into the haunted house.

Fog hissed in the corners. Wisps of smoke snaked from the ends of the room, creeping towards the centre. The cool air snatched your legs like the greedy outstretched arms of a zombie. A coffin laid in the corner with its lid missing, its sinister insides inviting you to settle in and rest your weary bones. You shook the thought away and walked as fast as you could, reminding yourself to breathe.

You were so close to the next room. So close to the end of all this horror.

And then you screamed. A figure growled beside you, where had he even come from? A mummy reached out, its skull tainted bronze with time. You ran through the rest of the hallway, laughing in relief when you reached an empty corner. A break from all the chaos. The next room was serial killer themed, adorned with blood-soaked bodies hanging limply from the ceiling. You took another moment to catch your breath and let another group of visitors pass you.

Closing your fist, you steeled yourself. Just as you lifted your leg to walk, a strong arm grabbed your waist and pulled you into the shadows. Your arms were pinned down your sides, trapped. The breath rushed from your lungs as you collided with a muscular body, your back pressed to him. His free hand tugged at your hair so that you were looking up at him. All you saw was hollowed out eyes and a gaping mouth. He was wearing a mask.

“Well well, who do we have here?” he said in a low tone, his gravelly voice followed by a malicious chuckle. 

Your chest heaved as you tried to take lungfuls of breaths only to come up empty. Panic swam through your mind, thoughts plunging deep into the ocean of your subconscious. Out of reach.

“Want to play with me, amore?” He continued, releasing your hair so he could caress the side of your face. A gesture far too intimate for a stranger to make. His other hand kept your hips firmly in place. You tried to squirm, to move out of his grasp, but he was much stronger than you were.

His words sent a chill down your spine. Something was wrong. Were scare actors allowed to grab you? You could have sworn you signed a waiver that mentioned it was prohibited.

“L-let me go,” you squeaked, trying to find your voice.

“Play with me and then I’ll let you go,” he said, dragging out the words slowly, “I promise we’ll have so much fun.”

You tried harder to escape, arms and hips thrashing against his solid grasp. You screamed for help, certain someone would come rushing. The masked man simply laughed, unfazed by your efforts.

“I do like it when my prey struggle. Scream all you want, no one’s coming for you. It all just blends in with the others,” he said arrogantly as he tightened his hold on you to cease your movements. You froze when you felt his erection against you. Heat bloomed in the pit of your stomach and you tried to tamp it down. He was big and you wondered just how well he would fit inside you. “Careful now cara,” he teased, “or you’ll have to take responsibility for your actions.”

You shook your head to say no, to shake off the twisted desires that had taken you captive. In a last ditch effort, you stomped your foot down his shoe. He hissed in pain, cursing in a language you didn’t understand. His hold on you momentarily waned but not long enough for you to break free, just long enough for him to get angry.

“You want to play hard to get?” he said, his voice growing cold. “Fine, I’ll be the bad guy,” he said as he pressed something cold and metallic on your neck. You instinctively moved your head away. Wrong move. It gave him more access to your throat. 

“You wouldn’t want to find out just how sharp this is now don’t you?” he asked, the playful tone back in his voice. He had you right where he wanted you. In the haze of adrenaline and terror, an ache grew in between your legs and you squeezed them together, trying to find relief. “I’ll be good,” you said, fear and lust rushing through your veins. 

“Show me,” he replied, commanding you as he kept his knife steady against your throat while his other hand released your waist. He wasted no time feeling you up under your dress, his hand caressing your soft thighs. Your knees felt weak from his touch, but you reminded yourself to stay still so your throat stays unharmed.

As he moved his fingers to your inner thigh, you moved your legs apart for him. You tried to convince yourself it was only to keep you safe. You definitely were not thinking about how good his fingers would feel on your soaking cunt. You took in a sharp inhale when you felt him tease you through your underwear. 

You couldn’t help the way your hips bucked, wanting to feel more pressure from his fingers. He chuckled and shame mingled with the heat of your desire. “I knew you wanted it,” he said with a smile in his voice. You kept quiet because there was no denying it now.

Encouraged by your eagerness, he ripped down your underwear, exposing your dripping wet cunt. He slid his fingers across your folds, covering them in your slick. He spread it out to feel every inch of your aching core. It may have been cold in the haunted house from his blade to all the fog and fear, but right now, your entire body was on fire. “Fuck, you’re so drenched for me, amore. I bet I could easily stick two fingers inside you.”

You whimpered at his words, stunned that someone could be so bold and direct. You were not sure you could leave now, even if you tried. You needed to know how his fingers felt. He didn’t leave you wondering for long. 

You found yourself moaning when your pussy suddenly felt full, his fingers working their way in. He curled his fingers, hitting your g spot. For the first time that evening, you screamed in pleasure. Your voice blended together with the other screams. Your knees gave out and you laid your head back on his shoulder, away from the knife. His body kept you upright as he continued curling his fingers then sliding them in and out, until he found a steady rhythm.

Sloppy, squelching sounds filled the air and it took you a moment to realize it was you. Satisfied you would stay and play with him, Theo lowered his knife so he could focus on your needy cunt.

You suddenly felt empty when you realized he moved his fingers towards your face. You opened your lips instinctively as he shoved his fingers into your mouth, your tongue lapping up your juices. He slid them in and out just as he had with your cunt, then shoved it down your throat, choking you in the process.

While you sucked on his fingers, you felt something hard rub against your clit and your eyes widened. It was the knife handle. “Be a good girl and take this for me,” he said as he moved it across your wet folds, gathering up your slick. “Grind against it, show me what you’ll do to my cock,” you closed your eyes while sucking his fingers and let your lust takeover. 

It felt new and exciting to have the knife handle against you. It didn’t take you long to find the exact spots that shot euphoria through your veins and you rubbed yourself against it again and again. Pleasure built up in the base of your stomach. “I’m going to plunge the handle into you now,” he warned, “move carefully, wouldn’t want to see your pretty legs cut up now, don’t you?”

You shook your head to say no, too lost in the ecstasy to find your words. Your walls clutched the knife as it entered you effortlessly, you were already so stimulated, you could almost taste your sweet release. “Look at you, dripping all over this knife. You're a slut aren't you?” You moaned your agreement around his fingers.

Your senses were heightened as you concentrated on keeping your legs steady. He moved the knife back out only to enter the handle back inside you as he once again found a steady rhythm. You shifted forward, bracing yourself for your release. Theo noticed the sudden shift and he removed the knife, exchanging it once again with his fingers. He moved faster this time, chasing your release.

“You're gonna come all over my fingers and thank me, understood?” He said and all you could do was nod. “Show me just how much of a slut you are. Look at you, getting yourself taken by a stranger in a haunted house and fucked with a knife. What a perfect cockwhore.”

His words unraveled you and you surrendered to the pleasure. Ecstasy erupted through you in waves. Your walls fluttered against his fingers as he coaxed your release, curling his fingers to prolong the climax.

You panted against him as you felt your juices drip down your legs. “What do good girls say?” He asked and he slipped out his hand. 

“T-thank you,” you managed, your voice hoarse from where he fucked your throat earlier. 

“Thank you what?” he asked, slapping your cunt. You shivered against his touch, unintentionally grinding on his boner. It earned you a grunt, sending a jolt through your body, a new shade of desire illuminated within you. You enjoyed how he responded to you. 

“Thank you daddy,” you replied, more steady this time.

“Good girl,” he said, praising you as he took a hold of your hand and pressed the knife into your back. Fear shot through you and you held your breath. “Step out of your underwear, bend over and pick it up like a good obedient slut.” You bent forward and followed his instructions, legs weak from your orgasm. “Put it in my pocket,” he commanded, “that’s it. This is mine now, a souvenir from an eager slut.”

“Come with me now, we’re just getting started,” he led you deeper into the darkness until a blinding light assaulted your eyes.

He had opened a secret backdoor. No doubt for scare actors to go around without being noticed, this was why they seemed to appear from nowhere. As your eyes adjusted, you got your first look at him. Not that there was much to see with his mask still on. All you noticed was the veins running through his muscled arm, black ink forming a pattern that disappeared up his shirt sleeve, but it was enough to stir your sinful thoughts.

“Don’t even think about screaming for help or running away,” he threatened as you moved side by side. Not that you were planning to anyway. To any onlooker, you just seemed like any other couple taking a stroll. The cool air brushed your sensitive bare cunt as you walked, sending gooseflesh rippiling through your skin.

“Where are you taking me?” 

“You’ll find out soon enough,” was all he said as he opened the door and you exited the haunted house. Of course, you should have known. There was a hotel just right across and it seemed he already had a room booked as he led you straight to the elevator. He blended right in with his mask, as others passed by dressed as fairies, pirates and other assortments of costumes. Ready to party the night away.

Theo had another party in mind. Your mind raced as elevator buttons lit up, taking you closer and closer to the last place you needed to be. But you wanted it. You remembered how big he was, the way he reacted to you, how good it felt when he called you a good girl. He also called you a slut and for him, you would be one. You were dizzy with delight. Besides, what other choice did you have? You thought about the sharpness of his blade and felt yourself clench. It shouldn’t have been exciting, oh but it was.

You stepped out the elevator and once again, a weight settled in the pit of your stomach in anticipation of all the things he would do to you. He still held your arm while he led you to the room, his grip gentler now that he knew you would stay. It was almost romantic.

He swiped the hotel card and gestured for you to enter. As you moved past him, all you could focus on was the king sized bed in the centre of the room. The sheets pure and pristine reflected the soft glow of the light, a blank slate for you to paint all your sins on. Behind you, the lock clicked into place and Theo secured the double lock. The sound was impossibly soft and innocent for something that reverberated deep in your bones. There was no turning back now.

“On your knees,” he commanded. Your breath shuddered and you hesitated. “I said,” Theo repeated impatiently, “on your knees” he gripped your hair for emphasis. The sudden force knocked you out of balance and before you knew it, soft carpet kissed your knees as you fell with a thud. He started unbuckling his jeans, an unmistakable bulge carved right in front of you.

Your mouth salivated as he freed himself. “Look at me,” he said, shifting your attention back to his face. “Open your mouth wide and put your tongue out. Good girl.” He spat in your mouth and used his thumb to spread it around your tongue.

“You’re going to take me real good,” he said as he guided his hungry cock into your mouth. Liquid heat pooled in your core again because he tasted good. His eyes fluttered shut when he felt just how warm and wet you were. You moved your tongue around him while he thrust himself into you.

“That's it. Look at me while I fuck your pretty mouth,” he encouraged you, pressing himself deeper until you felt him down your throat. He continued pistoning his hips, movements growing rougher by the second. Your eyes watered with the effort as you continued to suck and swallow. He swiped your tears away with his thumb and got impossibly harder. He liked watching you cry for him. Around you, obscene sloppy sounds filled the room.

“You're taking me so well.” Theo complimented in between grunts, his other hand still gripping your hair to keep you in place. “So perfect for me,” he praised you, words punctuated with his frantic thrusts. “You look so beautiful with my cock shoved down your throat. Just like that.”

You hummed in delight, eager to please him. Your tears and his thumb had long smeared your makeup yet he still called you beautiful. “Be a good girl and swallow daddy’s cum,” he said, signaling his near release. You braced yourself until you felt his warm salty taste in your mouth.

“That's right, principessa, you better not spill. Take it all, right down your throat.” You complied, enjoying the way he thrust slowly as if scooping the rest of his cum from your mouth down your throat.

Satisfied, he removed himself, “breathe amore, you did so well for me. Get up now it's time to give you a reward, you've earned it.” You stood on shaky legs, your knees blushing red from the carpet. Theo held you up and led you towards the bed.

“Just lie there, let me taste your eager cunt,” he said, lifting your dress up and over your head. Your thighs glistened from your arousal and Theo chuckled. “Fuck, only a slut gets wet from sucking cock. What a pretty little cockwhore for daddy.” You whimpered at his words and felt yourself clench in response. The mattress felt soft and supportive beneath your tense body, ready to cradle your fall.

“Tell me you want my tongue all over your pretty pussy,” Theo commanded.

“I-” you looked away, suddenly shy until he reached forward to grab your chin, making you face him. You looked at the black and white mask and bit your bottom lip. One final resistance before giving voice to your desire. “I want to feel you eat me, daddy.”

“Now, see how easy that was.” He released your chin as he moved back to position himself between your legs. He moved the mask up just enough to use his mouth before snaking his arm around your legs, keeping them spread out for him.

You sucked in a breath the second you felt his tongue on your aching cunt. He was so eager, lapping up your juices and kissing your clit all the way down to your folds. The way his tongue moved spelled pure need as he tensed it enough to penetrate you. A blinding haze swept through you, your core still sensitive from the echoes of your earlier orgasm.

Sinful moans escaped your mouth, joining the chorus of Theo’s kisses on your slippery cunt. Sheets gripped between your fingers, lust took over your body and you found yourself grinding against him and his mask, enjoying the delicious friction.

“That’s right, show me how much of a slut you are,” Theo encouraged, swirling his tongue around your clit. It didn’t take long until your stomach clenched again, you could almost taste your next release. Your breaths grew shorter and you could see the stars–

“On no, not yet, amore,” Theo chuckled, releasing you and sliding his mask back on. “Fuck, my mask smells like your cunt. I get to bring another souvenir with me,” he groaned in appreciation. “The next time you cum will be around my cock.”

You closed your legs, trying to find pressure to ease the need growing hot and desperate. “Please,” you whispered, begging for more.

“What’s that?”

“P-please,” you said, louder this time. “Let me cum on your cock, daddy.”

“Good girl, you’re a quick learner aren’t you? Come here,” he said, guiding you up. “Get on all fours and crawl to me,” he teased and he moved towards the edge of the bed. You followed him, lost in his spell. Your eyes widened when you spotted a floor to ceiling mirror in the corner where he stood. You had been too wrapped up in watching him to notice it earlier.

“Look at yourself, that pretty face and that perfect body,” he groaned. “Everything about you so fuckable.” You watched yourself in the mirror and noticed your smeared mascara, your hair crumpled right where he took you earlier, eyes and lips puffy from where he fucked your mouth. You were nothing like the prim and proper girl you often were and it felt liberating to not have to be perfect. Instead, you were on all fours, ready to be used like a whore by the man in the mask.

You felt him press himself against you in bed. When did he get there? You admired his naked body in the mirror, sweat glistening while they dripped down and traced his muscled figure. But his mask, only the mask, stayed on. The one he said smelled just like your cunt.

“Now you’re going to show me just how much you want to cum,” he said, positioning himself near your entrance. “I’m going to fill you up real good, but you’ll have to move yourself back. Fuck yourself on my cock, amore.” You clenched around him, rewarding his efforts with a pornographic moan.

Your soaked cunt welcomed him effortlessly and soon you slid yourself back just as he commanded, moving until his cock kissed your cervix. The slapping motion of skin on skin filled the air with lewd noises along with the smell of sex. Theo joined in with his grunts as he grabbed onto your hips, encouraging you to keep going.

You gripped the sheets, trying to find purchase. Pleasure swelled within you again from the way your nipples rubbed against the bedsheets, creating a delicious friction, to the heat that reignited deep in your core. Your entire body was on fire.

“That’s it, need to feel you cum on my cock,” Theo encouraged, reaching down to grab your breast, pinching and rolling your nipple between his fingers. It was enough to send you over the edge, seeing stars again as your walls fluttered around his hard length. Theo took over, rutting his hips into you to prolong your orgasm until you returned to him.

“Thank you daddy,” you rasped when you finally found your voice in between your labored breaths. “It’s my pleasure, principessa, but I’m not yet done with you,” he said darkly, continuing his pace. “Look at yourself in the mirror,” he said, grabbing your hair once again to guide your head.

“Look at that cockwhore getting fucked. Watch your tits sway like the filthy slut that you are,” you moaned at his words, heat building deep inside you again. It was overstimulating, the way his balls tapped into you as he rocked his full length inside you. Watching yourself get used and seeing the wild look in your eyes, a mix of delight and desperation.

His deep, guttural voice echoed through you, pulling at your strings. Your arms gave out, weighed down by the intensity of it all, and before you could move, Theo took this opportunity to pin you down, his toned body covering yours.

You felt helpless and succumbed to him, no longer bound by fear. His mask hovered near your face as he continued his relentless pace inside you. “You like being used, huh?” He asked, looking at your connected figures in the mirror. “Yes,” you cried out, “I need to feel your cum inside me, daddy.”

“Fuck, that’s a good slut, you’re taking me so well” he grunted, slapping your ass just before he increased his pace. It was brutal and you were screaming again, drunk from the cocktail of pain and pleasure. Italian expletives rained from his lips as he chased his high. You watched the way his muscles flexed from the effort.

The familiar heat raged within you, walls tightening around Theo’s hard cock. Echoes of your bliss reached a crescendo and you found yourself spasming against him again. “Take it all, amore,” Theo’s filthy moans joined yours as your release triggered his, you felt his liquid heat coating your insides as he rode you through your orgasm.   

He collapsed into you, bringing you to his arms. “That’s my girl,” he praised, “I’m so proud of you. You did so well.” You smiled and leaned into him, removing his mask to see him smiling back at you. He pressed a gentle kiss on your lips as if he hasn’t just fucked you raw. You laughed at the whiplash.

Your laughter washed over him, it really had been okay for him to unapologetically tap into his darkness in a way that feels euphoric and safe. It was liberating. His thumb traced your jaw, eyes searching yours. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

You shook your head, “nothing I couldn’t handle. I promise.”

“You’ll tell me if I hurt you, right?” he pressed.

Your eyes softened at his concern. “Yes, you made me feel good, Theo. You exceeded all my expectations. I love getting to know this side of you.”

You were already the best part of him, the sun that held all the light in Theo’s universe. He had no idea until tonight that his darkness could find a home in you too. It's the kind of dark that made the stars shine brighter. How had he gotten so lucky with you?

He planted a kiss on your forehead, bringing you closer to him. “I love sharing this with you. Now let me draw a bath and call room service for dinner. I’ll take good care of you, principessa.”

You called out to him as you watched him get up, “hey, Theo?”

“Yeah?” He turned back.

“Happy Halloween,” you said, grinning.

“Happy Halloween, amore.”

✿ Masterlist | ✿ Theodore Nott Masterlist

a/n: I very rarely write smut, but when I do, the next one always seems darker than the previous one. Happy kinktober!

[jayybugg]

study session

Theodore Nott x Fem!Reader

Summary: You're studying with Theo in the library...or are you?

Warning: Established Relationship, Dirty Talk, No House Specified, Kind of Public Sex, Smut (18+), No Use of Y/N, Google Translate Italian, No Plot literally just sex.

Word Count: 1.6K

Note: Wrote this based on a dream I had.....which was based on an RP scenario that I did. Obviously, Theo takes up a lot of space in my mind. Early birthday gift for my Georgie, @pizzaapeteer, please wish her an early birthday and thank you because she is the reason I got this done. @cafekitsune for the banners as always!

You raced to the library, giving small hello’s and excuse me's to the people you passed. You had promised Theo that you would help him with his Charms homework after your club meeting, but you had gotten carried away with some discussions causing the meeting to run over. You hoped that Theo wasn't there yet or would just be arriving because you knew the small quips about your tardiness wouldn't stop if he was already there.

You made it into the library, climbing the stairs to the secluded corner of the floor. A small table with two chairs that you and Theo often claimed whenever you both decided to do some studying. You groaned softly, seeing Theo already seated with a shit-eating grin on his face when you rounded the corner.

"So late, bella. Almost thought you stood me up." Theo said as you sat down next to him. You rolled your eyes, pulling out your Charms notes and your textbook. "Oh, shut up. I've never stood you up before."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, why are you late?" Theo leaned in; his mouth curved into a smirk. You flicked his forehead causing him to lean back, rubbing it softly. "I got caught up in the meeting. I'm sorry, Teddy."

"It's fine, principessa." Theo said, opening his notes, "Just like teasing you."

You and Theo quickly fell into a nice rhythm of studying and light conversation. You gave him the notes to copy as you worked on the actual assignment. You always felt at ease when you studied with Theo, it was one of the only times that he seemed to relax. Usually that was reserved for when you both were in the privacy of your dorms and even then, Theo would rather be participating in other activities.

More time passed before you started wiggling in your chair, your butt starting to fall asleep. "This chair is uncomfortable." You whined, standing up to try to regain some feeling. Theo chuckled, leaning back in his seat, and patting his thigh. "Well, I'm quite comfortable if I do say so myself."

You rolled your eyes as you slid over to him, nestling yourself in his lap. "You've been waiting for this moment, haven't you?"

"I'm always looking for a way to get you in my lap, love. It's where you belong." Theo said, winking at you. You smiled, shaking your head, and returning to your reading for your homework.

Theo's hand reached your thigh, running up and down your leg. Once he finished copying the notes, he trailed his hand under your skirt. You glanced up from your reading to meet his eyes that were already trained on your face.

"Shouldn't you be starting on the assignment now?" You swatted his hand away from your thigh, raising an eyebrow at him. Theo smirked, putting his hand back, "Yeah, but I don't feel like reading that text right now."

His hand once again traveled up your skirt to the hem of your underwear. "Why don't you read it to me, principessa?"

"Read it to you?" You raised an eyebrow at him, "What are you trying to do?"

"Nothing, I just want to hear your sweet voice." Theo smiled, "I'll even reward you."

Your eyes scanned Theo's face, landing on his eyes. The usual expressionless eyes held a certain swirl of mischief in them. "You're up to something."

"Maybe, maybe not. Why don't you read and find out?" Theo shrugged, his smirk never going away. You rolled your eyes, conceding to his request.

"Charms are comprised of a wide range of spells. They focus on giving a target new and unexpected properties or making the target perform certain actions, along with other effects." You recited from the book. Theo's fingers softly moved the fabric of your underwear, pressing down on your clit with the pad of his thumb.

You yelped softly, looking up at Theo. He was leaning into his hand propped on the table, his smirk remaining as he held eye contact with you. "Theo," You hissed, "We're in the library."

"I know, bella. Why are you bringing up the obvious? Keep reading, I'm intrigued." Theo contorted his face into fake confusion, all while massaging your clit with his thumb. You narrowed your eyes at him, taking a shaking breath as you felt a familiar feeling boil inside you.

"Charms were distinguished from Transfiguration spells in the regards that a charm will add to or change the properties of an object while Transfiguration spells change the object completely." You continued reading as Theo removed his thumb from your clit, quickly replacing it with his index finger. He trailed up and down your pussy, smiling as you stuttered upon your next sentences.

"Offensive and protective spells f-fall under Charms such as the Stunning, Disarming, mmm, spell, and the Shield spell. The Tickling spell- oh!" Theo’s finger slipped its way into your pussy, pumping in and out as you read. You shut your eyes, attempting to save yourself from the pleasure.

Theo leaned close to your ears, a smirk evident on his face. “What’s wrong, bella?”

“You…. Theo….”

“Blaming me for your distractions?” Theo clicked his tongue, “How rude.”

You slapped his arm, slumping over slightly as Theo picked up the pace of his fingers. Theo chuckled darkly; his eyes trained on your face as it contorted into one of pleasure. “Getting fingered in the library, where anyone could round that corner and see you. Such a fucking slut.”

You felt yourself clench around his fingers due to his words. The adrenaline from the thought of being caught rushed through your body. “Fuck. Please.” You let out a breathy plea, your eyes looking over to the corner that could expose this whole ordeal.

“Please what, amore? Use your words.” Theo whispered into your ear. Your breathing became shallow as you felt a familiar knotting in your stomach. Theo did relent in his pace, smirking as he saw you close your eyes. “About to cum? Go ahead, be a good girl, and come all over my fingers, sunshine.”

A low moan fell from your lips as your climax came in a harsh wave. You fell limp against Theo, who was chuckling lowly. You rolled your eyes, getting ready to scold him. “I can’t believe you- Theo? What are you-?”

You felt your body get picked up and leaned over the wooden table. Theo stood up, taking his place behind you. “What are you talking about, darling?” Theo said, pushing your skirt up to your waist and bending down to be face to face with your cunt.

“We’re in the library! We can’t-” Your words were once again cut off by Theo as his tongue lapped at your clit.

“But you’re dripping, principessa. I can’t just leave my girl soaked like this, now, can I?” Theo smirked against your cunt, lapping at it again. You bit your lip, pressing your face against the hard wooden table. Theo stood up, undoing his belt and zipper as he left a harsh slap on your ass.

“Do you want my cock, baby? Tell me.” Theo stroked himself, pushing your legs apart with his knee. You let out a deep breath, laying your body flat against the table and turning your head to glance back at him. “Yes…... I want it.” You said softly. Theo smirked at you, lining himself up with your entrance, pushing in.

“Fuck, amore, so wet and ready for me,” Theo muttered. You whimpered, your eyes falling close at the feeling of being filled up by your boyfriend. He never fails to stretch you out beyond belief. Theo pulled out slowly, leaving just the tip in before snapping his hips forward, setting a harsh pace.

“Such a fucking slut. Getting railed in the library where someone could see you.” Theo snarled, his hands gripping your hips tightly. You clenched around him again, moans ripping from your throat. “Oh, you like that, huh? You like the idea of someone possibly seeing how much of a whore you are for me?” Theo smirked, reaching around to rub on your clit.

“Y-yes, yes, I like it.” You mewled, your nails digging into the table. Your eyes focused on the open corner, your heart speeding up every time a shadow floated past it. The last thing you wanted was for anyone to catch you in this position, but you couldn’t find it in you to stop Theo or even conceal the noises that he was causing you to make.

Between watching how he disappeared into your greedy cunt and how your ass bounced back every time his hips contacted yours, Theo groaned softly. “S’good…. fuck.” You whimpered.

Theo lifted your leg to be prompted up on the table, knocking the books off the table in the process. With a firm grip on around your thigh, Theo pound into your aching cunt. You gripped the edge of the table, your climax coming fast. “M’boutta….m’boutta cum…” You said, your voice muffled from burying your head to the table.

“Hm? My principessa is about to cum?” Theo spoke, “Cum around my dick, I want to feel you soak me.”

It didn’t take long for you to cum once again, your juice covering Theo’s dick and thighs. He continued to pound into you until his thrusts got sloppy. “Going to cover this pretty ass all in my seed.” He muttered, more to himself than to you. He gave you one last deep thrust before pulling out and spilling his cum all over your ass.

You took deep breaths, your body still bent over the table, as Theo massaged your waist, a chuckle erupting from his throat.

“I didn’t know you were so kinky, bella. Good thing I casted that invisibility charm before you got here.”

Your eyes flew open in disbelief as you turned your head to look at him. That same shit-eating grin on his face from earlier.

Your boyfriend was going to be the death of you.

[girllblogging777]

𝑈𝑁𝑇𝑂𝑈𝐶𝐻𝐴𝐵𝐿𝐸 𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚

↳ mattheo riddle x fem!reader (cousin’s best friend)

↳ word count : 0,6k

𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦 : mattheo riddle has never done feelings, but that was until draco’s french cousin transferred from beauxbatons

✩✩✩✩

you were “untouchable”. that’s what everyone thought. that’s what everyone said. the first word pronounced when someone mentioned you. the “mysterious french girl” the “exchange student from beauxbatons” and most of all “draco malfoy’s cousin”. you couldn’t go anywhere in this school without hearing those words. everyone knew better when it came to daring looking your way or crossing your path.

as mean and cold as he looked, your cousin draco had a habit of being quite overprotective when it came to you. since you had transferred to hogwarts a couple of months ago, you had never been seen without him and his friends. the slytherin boys all had quite the reputation in this school, and ever since draco had introduced you to them, you knew the other students would leave you alone.

however, the “untouchable” rule came to your cousin’s friends too. they knew better than that, and to be honest you didn’t care much. enzo was caring, blaise was loyal, theo was compassionate, but what you and them had was purely platonic. the only person to whom that rule didn’t apply was the one and only mattheo riddle. the captivating brunette had been draco’s ride or die since first year and unfortunately for you, that meant you had to spend a lot of time together. but for some reason, the boy always seemed to be avoiding you. it wasn’t obvious at first but you had started to notice it in the little things, like when he’d leave the great hall everytime you sat at their table or go for a cigarette break when you approached the boys at a party. “what did i do to make him hate me ?” you often thought. “he doesn’t even know me…”

you always ended up brushing it off by talking and joking with the other guys, who unlike mattheo, were always here for you. what you didn’t know was that the dark lord’s son didn’t hate you, he just hated what you made him feel. the way his heart fluttered when you were around was nothing but platonic, wich is why he always felt like bolting when you approached him.

but what could he do ? you were breathtakingly beautiful. hell, captivating even. the way your hair was always perfectly falling around your face like an angel. how you made the cutest sound when you laughed at his friends’ jokes. and that sweet accent of yours didn’t help. every word that rolled out of your tongue made him lose his mind. the minute you had walked inside the great hall back in september, he knew he was done for. “they weren’t lying when they said french people were attractive”. imagine what he felt when right after being sorted into slytherin, you ran into draco’s arms. did his best friend have a girlfriend ? how could he have missed that ? he was pulled out of his thoughts when he heard “meet my cousin, y/n y/l/n”. and that’s when he realised the mess he was in.

mattheo riddle wasn’t known to be a romantic guy, he didn’t do feelings. the only times he was seen with girls were during drunk make out sessions at parties, or quickies in broom closets when he needed some relief. all his life, he had stayed away from love and its problems. the “untouchable” girl was the compete opposite. you were a hopeless romantic, saving yourself for the perfect romance you had read and dreamt about ever since you were little. and most of all, you were his best friend’s little cousin. he knew he should’ve stayed away from you, and he really tried.

but everything changed after that one time…

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a/n : this is my first time writing so please give me some feedback !!! also please like, comment and reblog, i’m taking requests (tell me if you wanna be tagged in my posts <3)

@pizzaapeteer @tateshifts @iris-qt @deadghosy @mattheosdior @sadnymi

[suugarbabe]

it's you | j.p. x reader

word count: 1.3k

warnings: fluff

Suggested song to play: Since I've Been Loving You by Led Zeppelin

an: for the fourth week of finalgirllx and thatdammchickennugget jinxedjuly, also i did not personally proofread but pizzaapeteer did so thanks!

Small apologies leave your lips any time you bumped into another person, which was a lot. “So sorry,” as you duked under someone’s arms, “pardon,” as you squished through an opening of people. You sneak a peek behind you, but you can’t seem to find even a glimpse of James in the crowd. You weren’t sure if this meant you were winning or losing your little wager with him; honestly you weren’t sure if you’d rather win or lose. 

As you and your friends arrived at the last stage of the festival, you couldn’t help the slight frown that appeared on your features at the length the crowd had come to. An arm was thrown over your shoulder as Sirius’s teasing voice came next, “What’s wrong, doll? I thought you were excited to see Zep?” You slumped your head against his shoulder, “I am excited, I’m just a little sad we’re so far away.” Sirius grew a smirk you couldn’t see, “What, you were hoping Robert Plant would sweat on you?” 

You shoved him playfully, “Sodd off, Black.” A roar of laughter occurred behind the two of you, “Yeah, sodd off, Black.” Sirius turned to give his glasses clad friend the finger. James sidled up next to you, dropping his voice to whisper, “Why are we telling him to sodd off?” Your previous frown turned upwards, “I was just sad about how far we are and he was just being a moron.” James smiled at this, “Isn’t he always, love?” You nodded, biting your lip to hide your growing smile as Sirius was walking back over. 

“You know,” James started, “we could probably get you a little closer.” You raised your eyebrows at this, “Pray tell, sir.” James turned toward the crowd, an arm extended toward the crowd, “You see that booth in the middle there?” You followed his gaze, seeing a small booth in the middle of a slew of people, “You mean the soundbooth?” James nodded, “I bet we could get there.” 

Raising your eyebrows slightly and crossing your arms you wore a look of slight disbelief, “And how would we manage that?” James flashes all his teeth with his charming smile, “Just a little zipping and zogging, darling.” A groan left Sirius’s throat near you, “Is Prongs making promises he can’t fulfill again?” Remus came up behind him, wrapping his arms around Sirius’s waist and he buried his face in the crook of his neck, “Be nice, Pads.” 

Sirius got a look on his face that made you suddenly feel nervous, and the words that left his mouth did nothing to help calm them, “Why don’t we make it interesting hmm? Last one there owes the other a secret.” If you would have turned around you would have realized that Sirius’s cocky glare was not aimed at you, but at James whose cheeks were tinted the darkest shade of scarlett. You also would have noticed the slight squeak in his voice when he responded, “G-great idea, Pads.” He turned to you then, “Whaddya say, darling?” What else could you do but nod in agreement, “Y-yeah, sure.” 

Remus shook his head at the lot of you, but that didn’t stop him from stepping into the role of game keeper now that you both consented to Sirius’s little proposition, “Are you both ready then?” You gave a shaky nod just as James gave a short, “‘Spose, so yeah.” Remus’s grin could be heard in his words, “On your mark,” you faced towards the crowd, eyeing the soundbooth that was the finish line, “get set,” you felt your heart rate start to increase, setting your feet for an ample push on, “go!”

You took off toward the crowd, hoping and praying that James’s larger stature posed as a disadvantage. Where you could easily slip through gaps and under people’s arms, James would have to essentially bulldoze through people. Which now that you think about it could be a perfect strategy for him as people tend to just move out of his way. Crap crap crap crap crap, I don’t know if I’m ready to admit it, your internal monologue was panicking as you weaved in and out of people either too high or too unbothered to notice you were going through them to get closer. 

With no James in sight you reach the sound booth first, a hand clasping the side bar with a slap of triumph. You peer over the crowd around you, searching for any glimpse of curly hair of a glint from glasses. A grip on your waist makes you jump slightly. “Gotcha,” James’s giggled declaration causes the same to erupt from you. You turn in his grip, his hands still holding on as you face him now. Your heart beat feels like it’s in your throat as you try to speak, “I beat you, Jamie.” 

James smiles at the nickname, nodding and bouncing his curls along with it, “Yeah, you beat me darling.” In a bold gesture you wrap your arms around his neck, “You owe me a secret.” This time you don’t miss the way his cheeks pinken, James stumbling slightly over his words, “Y-yeah, you’re right. I, erm, guess I just don’t really know how to say it?” He rubs a thumb over your hip bone nervously, which only increases your own nerves.

“You can tell me anything Jamie, you know that. I promise I won’t judge,” You plastered on a wide and encouraging smile, which did just that for James. He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly before he spoke, “Okay, phew, okay, I can do this.” He looked over towards the stage, your favorite band playing your favorite song seemed to be just the right moment for him to confess it all, “Y/n/n, I…I really like you. I have for a while I’ve just, ugh, I’ve been a pansy about it. I’ve been meaning to tell you sooner, but it just seems like you’re mind has been occupied by someone else and I just didn’t want to get in the way of that? I dunno, but then Sirius said his stupid thing and I thought, what better time, ya know?” 

James let out a nervous laugh, struggling to keep eye contact and waiting for you response. You placed a hand on his cheek, forcing him to look at you while you made a confession of your own, “It’s you, Jamie.” James’s eyebrows furrowed slightly, “You, I’m sorry, what?” You let out a sigh, “What, or who’s been occupying my mind lately. It’s you, you bloody idiot. I thought Sirius made his little plan because he knew.” James couldn’t help but roll his eyes, a small smile on his face as he did so, “That cheeky fucking bastard, I thought it was just because of me.” 

James grabbed your face then, pulling your lips to his in a playfully searing kiss. His lips slotted against yours better than any fantasy you’d ever had of him. Just like everything else he did, he kissed passionately, your knees growing weak as you felt light headed both from the lack of oxygen and at the realization that this was really happening. As he pulled away you couldn’t help the dopey smile that you wore, James looking thankfully similar. “We make a pack right now that he does not get credit for us getting together.” 

You perked up, “So we’re together now?” James gave you two more quick pecks on the lips before turning you both towards the stage to enjoy the rest of the band’s set. He pulled you close into his side, leaning down to answer your question, “Sweetheart, after that confession, you’re stuck with me.”

[midniqhtt]

slytherin boys fic recs

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𑣲 dating the slytherin boys I @lenaswritingandstuff

[iniquitousyearning]

mattheo riddle | focus.

PAIRING: Mattheo Riddle x Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: you thought you were just going to have a peaceful night with your boyfriend, cuddling while watching the newest episode of The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills. you thought.

WORD COUNT: 4.1k. (i’m sorry?)

TAGS: 18+, SMUT MDNI, praise kink, some teasing, matty being an absolute dawg per usual, unable to keep those delicious hands to himself, maybe like the tiniest bit of degradation, fingering, multiple orgasm, PIV, doggy/prone-bone, um yeah the usual filth i provide.

DEDICATION: this was a little bday gift for my lovely friend @pizzaapeteer🤍 hope u had the best day bbygirl ilysm!

"Matt," you exhaled your boyfriends name, leisurely rubbing your tired eyes. "...any minute now, please."

A muffled yawn from inside the bathroom was the only outward sign of his acknowledgment before he appeared in the doorframe--like a vision materializing from a dream. Your groggy eyes clung to his shadow, watching as he lazily sauntered toward you--looking cozy, yet as exhausted as ever.

It’d been a busy day for you both, between his quidditch tournament finally drawing to a close and your ruthless potions exam--you’d found yourselves lacking routine, your schedules treacherously out of sync--because not only had you not seen each other since this morning, the way the day had started was frantic enough to send your mood into sours so intense it’d make a fucking lemon grimace.

There was no cuddles, no intimate shower time, and certainly no morning sex. The only bout of intimacy Mattheo was able to steal from you was a quick peck on the cheek before you scurried out the door, desperate to cram in as much studying as you could.

It was safe to say that by this point, the two of you were fucking spent, slightly annoyed, and most certainly, drained. And all you’d been thinking about--for the entirety of your day, was getting to snuggle, catch the latest episode of your favourite muggle/guilty-pleasure show, preceded by dozing off embraced within your boyfriend’s loving arms.

"Look, I love you and all, but can't we watch something else?" He was so utterly unenthused you'd think you were forcing him to watch paint dry, his expressions a mirror to his tone as he combed a hand through his hair. "Something that maybe won't give me a bloody headache."

Messy chocolate curls framing brooding brown eyes, grey sweatpants and a black hoodie was all that it took to make you rethink your plans for the evening. It was clear to you, almost immediately, that Mattheo wasn’t as deterred by the craziness of the day as you were. You could see that twinkle in his eye, that hunger barred behind cheeky grins and teasing words.

You rolled your eyes, biting your lip in attempt to quell your smirk. "Oh, come on, Mattheo," you teased, shifting on the comforter to make space for him beside you. "You know deep down you love the drama. That's practically your middle name."

"If I'm being completely honest," your boyfriend scoffed, settling into bed beside you. "I'd probably enjoy it more if we turned the volume off."

Your face flushed with warmth as Mattheo immediately drew you into him, one arm slipping under your head while the other coasted a light path up your thigh. A pair of lips pressed to your neck, wet and soft against your aching skin, igniting bliss to burn a scorching heat in your belly. Against your better judgement and instigated by a force well beyond your control, you sighed--exhausted lids fluttering shut as you revelled in the warmth his presence evoked within you.

It right was then, that you knew--as instinctual as breathing--that simply watching your show and going to bed wasn’t going to be enough for your boyfriend. Of course you wanted him--wanted him just as bad as he wanted you--but your exhaustion was prevailing, and therefore, so was your brattiness.

He was going to have to be patient. He was going to have to work for it.

So with a sharp inhale, and in an honest attempt to avoid the volcano of desire before it erupted irrevocably, you turned your back to him--seeking refuge from the imminent intoxication that came along with your boyfriend's perfect lips.

"Wow, Matty," you teased, "and here I was actually considering letting you be the little spoon for once..." you fixed your sight on the TV, fighting to ignore his touch on your hip. "Guess you'll just have to be the big spoon all night."

Mattheo's chuckle rumbled against your back as he tightened his embrace, his warmth enveloping you completely. His lips brushed against your ear, and you could practically hear the exhaustion in his tone, his voice as rough as gravel.

"That's not the punishment you thought it'd be, princess," he murmured, the cheeky grin on his lips practically audible, each syllable tickling the back of your neck as he spoke. "This just gives me something far more interesting to focus on than that dumb show of yours."

You couldn't stop yourself from tsking him, a giggle escaping your lips as you gently pulled his wandering fingers away from your backside, intertwining them with your own. This was one of the many things you adored about him—the way he couldn't seem to keep his hands off you whenever you were together.

"Nuh-uh, Mattheo Riddle--your focus is on the show," your attempt to scold him was warring with the need to keep your voice steady, playfully tilting your head back slightly to meet his gaze. "I know you're just dying to find out who said what behind whose back, aren't you?”

Mattheo huffed, an exhale of pure amusement. A certain intoxicating devilism that you knew all-too-damn-well twinkled in his honeyed irises as he caught your gaze, scorching heat over your skin.

"I'm dying for something, undoubtedly," his arm beneath your head curled inward, large palm finding a handful of your breast and kneading it. Before you could react, his lips graced your earlobe, and he drew it into his mouth, nibbling it, forcing an eminent whimper to flee your throat. "And it's not that."

Involuntarily, you groaned--a noise of pure restraint--your other hand moving up to tug his fervent fingers away from your chest. It took every ounce of your willpower to hold back a sigh of desperation as you mentally reminded yourself of your prior mantra.

Make him be patient. Make him work for it.

"Matty, quit being a brat," you muttered, playful scolding tracing your tone. You honestly couldn't believe you'd just said that. "We’ve both had such a long day…let’s just watch this and goto sleep, yeah?"

His response was a low, rumbling murmur, his voice thick with desire as he turned his head toward the television, his fingers still for the moment.

"You're so right, baby," he conceded, his breath warm against your neck. "I'm just watching the show. I don't even know what you're--"

"Mattheo," you interjected, a hint of warning in your tone, and he let out an exaggerated huff, falling silent. After a moment, you giggled at him. "Salazar help you."

Even without seeing his face, you could practically hear the cheeky grin on his perfect lips spreading from ear to goddamn ear. You were certain he was seeing right through you.

"Alright, alright, I'll behave," he said, though his voice betrayed him. There wasn't one ounce of sincerity in those devastatingly deep cords. "Would you just like, stop squirming, though? It's distracting."

You rolled your eyes. Gods, how you wanted to smack him while simultaneously kissing his perfect, annoying face. "Matt, I literally haven't moved."

Mattheo shrugged, his breathy chuckle washing over your neck, his eyes now fixed on the TV. As the two of you settled into stillness, you exhaled--his playful antics never failed to humour you, a reminder of the delightful chaos that came with dating this messy, yet undeniably wonderful boy. Sometimes, it truly felt like living in your own reality TV show, though you wouldn't have it any other way.

Nestled in his embrace, a sense of tranquility washed over you as you immersed yourself in the drama that this weeks episode had to offer. However, as the clock ticked on and the show progressed, you could feel Mattheo's restlessness grow stronger behind you.

His movements were subtle at first--a shift here, a slight adjustment there, but soon enough, his hands began to wander after breaking free from your hold, tracing delicate patterns along your skin. Despite your efforts to remain focused on the show, the sensation of his touch was relentless, subtle ministrations laced with clear intent that had you distracted from the TV without much effort.

"Mattheo," you whispered, trying to sound stern but failing as a soft sigh escaped your lips.

"Shh, princess," he cooed, voice so sweet it was sugar incarnate. "We're watching the show, aren't we?"

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his teasing, but before you could protest further, his hand moved to roam along the curve of your waist, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. Your breath caught in your throat, his touch igniting a familiar spark between you, threatening to engulf you both in a different kind of drama altogether--one that had absolutely nothing to do with the show on the television.

And you longed to utter something, anything--longed to form some semblance of coherent speech--but words would simply elude you as Mattheo's hand continued its eager exploration, mapping every inch of your curves as it started trailing its way from your hip down your thigh and back up, softly rolling his hips against your backside.

Somehow, throughout all this, you kept your eyes focused on the screen in front of you--hardly even daring to blink--though your mind was monopolized by the feeling of his calloused palm catching on the fabric of your leggings, the way his fingernails dug into your flesh as he gripped your hip, gripped your thigh, gripped your waist--anywhere his hungry hand could find purchase.

"I want you," his voice was a breath on your neck, his grip bruising your hip as he bucked into you. "So fucking bad."

You whined from lust, your vision fogged by need. His words sent heat straight to your cunt. "Matt..."

"I know, baby," his tongue drew a wet line up the side of your neck toward your ear, and he whispered into it. "Watch the show. Just let me take care of you.”

A lump formed in your throat, your mind so clouded with desire that forming a coherent response seemed impossible, your teeth clawing at your bottom lip to prevent any sounds from slipping out as his other hand moved to grope your chest, kneading your breast within his palm.

Your entire body was in flame, and the truth hung heavy in the air--of course, you wanted him just as desperately as he wanted you, and were more than willing to abandon the show and lose yourself in his touch--but it was frustrating, maddening even, how effortlessly he could disarm you, even while exhausted.

A mere whisper, a few tender touches, and you were putty in his hands, melting under his gaze. So much for making him work for it.

Mattheo hummed and bit the tender flesh between your neck and shoulder, sucking an angry, puckering red mark into it while he continued to grind against your ass, his throbbing desire jabbing you, seeking friction.

"Keep those eyes on the screen, baby." Gods, that bastard. That beautiful fucking bastard. Impossible to resist, completely useless to attempt to ignore. "Forget that I'm even here, yeah?"

A whimper escaped your lips, a tacit admission of how adeptly Mattheo had unraveled you, his touch igniting a starving fervour that coiled tight within you. He possessed an uncanny ability to unravel your defenses, leaving you malleable and pliant under his fingertips, consumed by an overwhelming need that pulsed with every beat of your heart.

"That's..." the words died on your tongue as he kissed your neck again--one hand moving to slip underneath your shirt and the other bruising your hip with his grip, pulling you closer against him. "...impossible."

"Oh, is it?" a pleased huff escaped him, his curls tickling the sensitive skin below your ear as he buried his face against it, teeth grazing your pulse. "Are you saying you can't multitask, baby? You want me to stop-"

"No," you cried out without hesitation as he finally glided up your stomach and slipped under your bra, thumb brushing against your nipple. "I...I can do both."

"Mhm, yeah you can," he purred, five slender digits slipping down to caress between your thighs, grazing over your mound and resting there for a moment, feeling your heat through your leggings. "You can do both because you're my good fucking girl, aren't you?"

His tone was intoxicating, the teasing and gentle praise melding together, creating a concoction brewed with the sole purpose of making your fucking head spin. Each word he uttered seemed to fan the flames of desire within you. Your teeth dug into your lower lip, wanting to plug as many noises as possible, his mouth moving from below your ear and slithering up to the line of your jaw.

Gathering yourself with a sharp inhale, you nodded. "Yes, Matty, I am..."

One hand shifted to your other breast and he groaned against your cheek, flooding your flesh with warmth as his fingers kneaded it, thumb twirling over the sensitive bud, erection grinding against you with another harsh snap of his hips.

"You are what, baby..." he muttered, burying his face back into the crook of your neck, his thick hair soft on your skin. "Wanna' hear you say it."

Another whimper escaped you, loud and shameless as his hand between your thighs shifted slightly, pressing against your clit for a moment before releasing pressure. You knew what he was after. You knew he wasn't going to give you what you wanted until he got it.

"I'm..." you choked on your breath, forcing the rest of the words past your teeth. "I'm your good girl, Matty."

Your arousal surged to dizzying heights, eclipsing any awareness of the television's presence in the room. Your focus had been hijacked, seized by the insatiable force of the hungry heathen at your back.

"Yeah, that's right, baby," Mattheos fingers sprung to action again, dragging the pads of his pointer and middle tantalizingly slow along your slit, teasing you through your leggings, your back arching instinctively as you fought the urge to grind against his touch. "Say it again for me."

You growled in frustration, feeling the heat blaze over your skin as his breath ghosted over your neck. Inhaling sharply, you fought to gather whatever shreds of sanity remained within you.

"Your good fucking girl, Matty," you declared, the words dripping with equal parts hunger and desperation. "All yours. Only yours."

Mattheo's response was a low, guttural growl of approval, his grip tightening possessively as he pulled you closer against him. His teeth dug into your shoulder as he finally sprung into action, hand on a hunt, tracking up to find the band of your leggings and slipping beneath it.

"That's fucking right," he murmured, his voice rough with desire. "All mine.”

Without wasting another second he slid two digits along your slit, pulling apart your slick folds and dragging the rough pads of his fingers over your clit--maddeningly slow. His grip on your breast tightened, breath leaving his lungs in shallow grunts as fervour engulfed him--engulfed you, engulfed the room and set it in flame.

"All yours." you whimpered, nodding.

"My good fucking girl, always so wet for me--so eager, hm?" Your moans filled the room as he took those two thick fingers and slid them into your cunt, the feel of your walls stretching around him igniting a quiet groan from his throat. "All day without this pussy and you really expect me to be able to keep my fucking hands off you? You're all I've been thinking about..."

Then, his thumb was on your clit while he curled his digits inside of you, stroking that sweet spot of raised flesh, your trembling hands flailing to find his arms, fingers digging into his skin, grounding you as though he was your lifeline, your anchor in the rough sea of pleasure he was providing.

"Gods, Matty." Your lids were squeezed tight, lips pinched together, rubbing your head against his as the heat from his mouth grew sweat on your neck. "You're all I--ah--all I think about too..."

Mattheo groaned again, working fast, building the pressure inside of you in record speed, warm heat rushing out over your skin. Your walls throbbed around him, heart a rabid animal barred beneath your sternum, and he added a third digit, pinching your nipple with his other hand--sending stars shooting behind your lids.

"My good girl isn't focusing on the show, is she?" His voice was the tantalizing depth of a black hole, sucking you into his orbit. You forced your eyes open. "You wanna' cum you better start focusing, princess."

Your brain was short circuiting--your mind fogged by a desire so intense it eclipsed any awareness of the television before you. Though your eyes registered its presence in the room, its glow seemed distant and hazy, as if it existed in separate realm from the searing heat encompassing you. You glimpsed it, focused on it, but your brain couldn't quite grasp its purpose as the only thing that held any significance in your consciousness was the sensation of your boyfriend's fingers, relentlessly driving you closer and closer to the edge of euphoria.

"That's better." He hummed, lips pecking at your cheek. "So good for me," his fingers scissored inside you, thumb increasing its pace on your clit. "So, so good."

Your ears rang, your sight blurring. You were so fucking close. "Matty, fuck—I'm gonna-"

Your boyfriend groaned. "Cum for me, baby."

Without needing any further instruction, the coil of pressure inside of you burst, exploding through your skin and enveloping you in a hot, convulsing warmth--you were crying out, cumming hard around him, your walls clamping down on his fingers, pulling him into your body as you pulsed and throbbed with pleasure. You thought you'd kept your eyes open, though you couldn't entirely be sure as your sight blanked, your consciousness consumed by a days worth of pent up sexual energy.

As Mattheo slowly withdrew his hand from beneath your leggings and distanced himself slightly, his voice carried a palpable strain. "Turn over, facing the TV."

Confusion flickered across your features as you blinked, glancing over your shoulder at him. "What?"

"Face the TV, on your stomach," he repeated, his voice firm yet tinged with a hint of desperation. "Please."

You watched as he palmed his throbbing, angry erection through the fabric of his grey sweats, and every single nerve ending in your body roared to life again. Still buzzing with the remnants of your climax, you quickly moved, shifting onto your stomach and facing the TV like he asked, unable to shake the boiling anticipation churning within your core.

You could feel Mattheo's dark eyes boring holes into your flesh, searing the seams of your skin as he shifted up onto his knees and moved between your legs behind you. Two strong hands gripped your thighs, and you tried to peer at him over your shoulder before he tsked you playfully.

"Focus on the screen, baby." There’s that sweet voice again. Sweet like honey oozing off his lips. “Be good.”

Your boyfriend was methodical, moving without urgency even though you knew that he was more than vibrating with it. Leaning down, he pressed soft kisses along the back of your thighs, slowly journeying upward, tracing a path to the curve of your ass cheek where he playfully sank his teeth into the plump flesh, eliciting a shudder that rippled through your body.

You suppressed a moan, the sound caught in your throat as his hands found purchase, kneading and groping the sensitive flesh between his digits.

“Matty..."

A low hum of satisfaction reverberated against your skin as he continued his exploration, his fingers deftly hooking around the band of your leggings and underwear. With a teasing tug, he began to pull them down your thighs, revealing the fresh expanse of your skin inch by tantalizing inch.

"Shh," he cooed. “Beautiful girl.”

The breath in your chest was a rapid circle, your entire body trembling with desperation. The moment your pants were off, you felt Mattheo's hands shifting to his own, a soft groan escaping him as he freed himself from the confining material. Without hesitation, he loomed over you, his presence dominating as he leaned forward to snake a hand around your throat, forcing your head in place, facing the TV as he aligned himself with your centre.

"Since you're having trouble focusing, I'll help you," his fingers wrapped around your jaw, his breath hot on your ear. "My good fuckin' girl."

A cyclone was roaring in your brain, tearing apart coherent trains of thought with primitive, physical clamoring. You felt him glide the head of his cock between your thighs, slicking himself in the wetness he'd caused, teasing you with false thrusts before he finally pushed in, spearing you open with one long, deep, slow thrust.

"Fuck." His breath was a hidden hiss through his teeth as you groaned, walls clenching around his cock. "Been waiting all day for this, baby. Fuckin’ tight little pussy."

His grip intensified on your jaw, his breath washing warm over your ear as he pulled out slowly and slammed back in. You couldn't think, couldn't speak--brain already cock-drunk, inebriated by lust.

"Matty," you gasped, gripping the wrist to the hand holding your head in place. "Fuck."

"Mhm, that's right," his voice was shattered, his tone strained against his throat. Each thrust was deeper, harder, faster than the last one, his curls tickling your cheek as he nuzzled his head in the crook of your neck--warm, wet lips pressing against your pulse. "So fucking tight. Fuck, I missed this--fuckin’ missed you."

You whimpered, struggling with every ounce of your existence to keep your eyes open, to remain focused on the glowing box infront of you--but you weren't even sure if Mattheo cared much about that anymore. Even without seeing his face you knew he was above you, looking down--teeth barred, jaw tensed and pupils blown wide with lust.

You knew he was just as gone as you were.

"Fuck," Mattheo snarled, fucking deeper, his hips smacking against your ass with every angry thrust, drowning out the sounds of the show. His hand moved under your belly, reaching for your clit and quickly connecting with it, causing you to writhe and spasm against his hold. "How's that feel, princess."

Little choked moans left you while your jaw hung slack, his cock pounding into you--then his fingers hit just the right spot, and the massive, asphyxiating pressure inside of you bordered on the very edge of exploding.

"Fuck," you replied, as though it was the only word that you seemed capable of reliably saying. "Fuck—good, Matty...so good..."

"That's right," he muttered. "You're so beautiful like this, so fucking perfect." He held you fast, pounding your cunt, catching groans in his throat. "You have no idea what you do to me."

You groaned. His words alone were enough to make your head spin. "Fuck—"

Delirium ascended into ecstasy, pleasure amplified by the stretch of his dick fucking you deep. His weight pinned you to the mattress, his hand holding your head firm as he growled in your ear with each harsh thrust, pent up sexual tension pouring off of him and threatening to drown you beneath it.

"Mhm. Little slut. Dumbed out on my cock." A low moan left you, the heat and friction and feverish thrusts sending your sanity to space. His fingers circled your clit faster, and you tweaked, eyes rolling. "Poor thing couldn't even focus on the screen if she tried, could she?"

"No—fuck, I can't." Bliss burned to burst, stars swarmed your sight entirely, and you knew it, knew it was happening, knew that you were about to break. "I—I wanna' cum for you, Matty...please..."

"Go ahead, princess." He cooed. "Cum for me."

You clamped down on his swollen length, your orgasm cleaving you in half as you shook with euphoria, heat and pleasure tearing all the way to your fingertips and toes. Mattheo keened, grip on your jaw turning almost painfully tight as he groaned and drove into you with a final thrust, cum spilling into you, hips snapping while he convulsed with the tremors of his falling climax.

The room was spinning, your bodies stuck with sweat, every breath of air too hot, too thick with sex. Your boyfriend's face was still nestled into your neck, and, exhausted too, you let your head be entirely supported by his hand, exhaling a long, trembling breath.

After a moment, Mattheo rolled off and slumped down onto the mattress beside you, grinning. “Good thing we can just rewind, hm?”

You grinned, letting out a breathy laugh as he pulled you into his chest. “You’re something else, Mr. Riddle.”

[amiableness]

here for the sleepover and I bought the pizza! 💓 how do we feel about the hc that Theo has a pet raccoon called Gary? 🤭🥹

yes! so glad you made it, babe! <3 i’m always down for pizza, in fact i was going to make it for dinner but decided i was too lazy, so this is perfect!

omg wait, i read that somewhere on my dash but that’s the only time i’ve heard about it! how have i not heard about this more?? but i love this. i think raccoons are the cutest things in the world

[amiableness]

hi el! 🦋🩵🥹 sending hugs and love 🫂

hi sweetheart!! i’m so sorry i’m just now seeing this, i’ve hardly been on this app! but eee! but thank you for all the hugs and love, you’re genuinely the sweetest human. i hope you’re doing well angel!

[amiableness]

hiiii I miss you and hope your having a great day angel 🤍🥹

hiiiii babes! i miss you! even though i’m about to text you back after this lmao. i’m having a really good day, i hope you are too, my love! <3

[amiableness]

eeeeh the new theme is so cute! it’s so calming and like I’m stepping straight into a peaceful book 🤍

omg! thank you sm babes! i got tired of the old one and since i’m missing the warmth it only felt right 🤎

[amiableness]

alsooo I see we have a new theme! Yay you found your Christmas spirit! 🎄⛄️ what kind of gift would you wanna give theo for Christmas? 🤍

i didddd! <3 i spent way too long on pinterest finding what i wanted, but it was worth it! besides filthy sex next to the christmas tree??? probably something sentimental. like love letters that have been written over the course of the year. totally how i picture him, but i think he’d need that reassurance with being loved and i would totally give that to him. what about you, babes??

[amiableness]

Hi bb! Im assuming that your the type of friend who would show up for anyone rain or shine! 🤍🥰

hi my angel! i’d like to think so! i can think of a couple memories when i dropped everything i was doing because one of my friends needed me <3

[amiableness]

send this to all your favourite moots and roll a snowball! KEEP THE SNOWBALL ROLLING!❄️🤍❄️🤍❄️

a gazillion forehead kisses for miss angel 🩵🤍

my love 😭 i’d be honored to receive forehead kisses from you, i love you!

[amiableness]

Merry Christmas el!! Hope you have the best day and enjoy time with your fam! 🎄❄️ you make my day with your kindness and warmth and I always look forwards to all our interactions 😽🥹 love you bb 🤍

oh my love 🥹 merry christmas! ✨♥️🎄 i love that we’re getting to know each other more, all of our chats warm my heart. im sending you so much love and hope all your holiday wishes come true! i love you angel!