First… How Are You So Good At Writing…? Second… HOW THE FUCK DO I INJECT YOUR WRITING INTO MY VEINS?!

Stroke of Midnight

12 Days of Dickmas - Theodore Nott x Reader

Summary: Theo and Mattheo help you get over your fear of heights in very fun ways 👀🎁

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, SMUT, chars 18+, modern au, dom!theo, dom!mattheo, threesome, new years hook up, DP, spitroast, rough sex, anal, creampies, PIV, semi public sex, pussy eating, throat fucking, choking, spitting, nipple play, degrading, dirty talk, dom&sub, mattheodore ruining us👀

All morning the two guys who you had come to know as Theo and Mattheo, constantly flirted with you in the small ski lodge cafe where you worked. You found it cute. Endearing. The way they practically fought over on who could out flirt you.

Not expecting to see them again, especially so close to the cafe closing time. It was New Year’s Eve and not like you had plans or anything but you wanted to be home in your bed. That’s when two sets of snowy legs wandered in.

You were met with the two attractive males from earlier and laughed as you shook your head. “Can I help you two?” You asked them in a teasing tone. They both glanced at each other with smirks before facing your gaze.

“Well, you’re closing up right?” Mattheo asked lowly, stalking toward you as he ran a hand through his fluffy curls, Theodore’s smirk only growing wider. “Yeah- why?” Confusion plastered over you.

But Theodore and Mattheo had other plans in mind. “Come to the peak with us…” Theo’s accent rolled off his tongue, making you shudder while he took a step toward you. “Oh…I uh…I can’t-“

How do I even explain this without looking like a total wimp? Fuck. “Why not?” Matt cocked an eyebrow to you, the both of them crossing their toned arms over their chests. “Well….”

You began, the lights slowly shutting off in the cafe as you sighed. Your gaze flickered back and forth between the two men. “I’m terrified of heights- okay? Ski lifts and whatever are not my thing.”

Explaining yourself, Theodore gave you a sympathetic look but Mattheo continued to smirk, clicking his tongue against his cheek. “Come on pretty girl…You have us…” the curly-haired one started and your heart raced.

“Yeah…We’ll take real good care of you, Tesoro…” The Italian said lowly and you swore your heart would be bursting from your chest. Your face flushing up from the two attractive guys. How could I say no?

“I….I don’t know…I guess?” Almost questioning if this was even the right decision, the boys smiled from ear to ear as they started to walk out and you followed. “Don’t worry, Bella— we can take the gondola…It’s enclosed so you’ll feel safer”

Theodore seemed sweet, kind, and thoughtful. Your already cherried face turned even more red as you grabbed your coat and headed into the snowy night with them.

Next in line for the gondola were the three of you. Half an hour until midnight. You shivered a bit and felt the anxiety rise. “Ah— come on now doll, nothing to be nervous about. You have us!” Matt exclaimed, causing Theo to chuckle.

“Mattheo can be an idiot— regardless we’ll be with you. Seems like we’ll be ringing in the new year together-“

New years. With strangers. Hot strangers. Not too bad. You just nodded your head. The coldness getting to you but Theodore threw an arm around you, pulling you close. “Cold, Cara Mia?”

Nodding your head, your nose felt numb, reddened from the brisk air. “Just a little…” The cloud of your breath in the air had you shudder but then the bars opened and all three of you waltzed into the gondola.

At first, you sat across from the two of them. Anxiously fidgeting with the rings on your fingers as you glanced from each window. “Relax…Breath…It’ll be okay” Mattheo reassured with a chuckle.

“Are you sure?” You questioned the both of them softly as Theo hit you with yet another sympathetic gaze before quickly plopping next to you. Giving Mattheo a challenging grin. Throwing his arm around you. “Very sure—“

The Italians strong arm wrapped around you helped the nerves you felt as the gondola started to rise. The metal whirred as you ascended up the mountain. However, you stayed quiet.

Ten minutes or so had passed of silence and Theo and Mattheo messing with each other. But you were in your own head. Suddenly you heard a loud screech, the gondola coming to a halt.

“W-what’s happening?!”

Practically shouting your words, panic started to form inside of you. Your vision getting blurry and Mattheo instantly stood up to come sit on the other side of you. “I’m not sure…” He mumbled to himself as Theo tried to look down below.

That’s when an alarm went off on the speakers before a voice spoke through. “Due to maintenance, we have come to a quick stop! Don’t worry we will be back up and running shortly. We apologize for the inconvenience.”

Fuck. Me. Just my luck huh? You must’ve looked pretty shaken up because now Matt’s arm was also around you and it was taking everything in you to not break down in tears.

“Hey- hey- hey! It’ll be okay— hey! Look at me!” Theodore grabbed your chin, forcing your gaze to meet his. Those inviting ocean eyes. “S-sorry…I’m just….Scared” You admitted quietly, feeling Mattheo’s fingers dance through your lush locks soothingly.

“I know…But it’ll be alright…We just need a distraction!” Mattheo chuckled but your eyes remained glued to Theo’s. You noticed him glance at your lips and your heart flipped.

He seemed to inch closer and closer, your breath getting hitched in your throat. “You’re right, riddle…And I think I know just the thing-“ Before you could even process everything, Theo slammed his lips to yours.

You didn’t even try to fight it, he tasted fucking amazing and he was right- this was a distraction. Hearing Mattheo scoff, he gripped your hair tightly, his free hand going to your thigh.

The kiss between you and Theo only deepened, Mattheo grazing his lips across the side of your neck ever so softly, causing a soft moan to whimper from you. But you didn’t stop it. Not in the least.

“If I wasn’t mistaken…”

Mattheo’s voice was low and raspy against your flesh as he teasingly bit along it, surely leaving little love marks as he went on.

“…You’re fucking loving this…You wanna take us both, Angel?”

He muttered against your collarbone, Theo groaning into the kiss as your hand went down to his pants. Feeling the throbbing boner in between his snow pants.

Mattheo growled, opening up your jacket and kneeling between your legs. Slowly working your own pants and panties off. “Fuckin hell Nott- She has one pretty fucking pussy…”

The vulgarity of his words caused you to whimper between the steamy make out of you and Theodore. The Italian chuckled at Matt’s response as one hand went to your shirt, tugging it down along with your bra to scoop up a breast of yours.

All of the sensations surely were making you forget about your fear of heights. Lost in the bliss of both of the men. Suddenly, a gasp emitted from your throat as Mattheo buried himself between your thighs.

“Feels good does it, Tesoro?”

Theodore asked, purring teasingly against your swollen lips, your foreheads now touching as your submissive gaze flickered between his own. “—Mhhhhmmm…” You managed to mumble out while Mattheo’s tongue worked in indescribable circles along your clit.

With a swift movement, Theo stole a quick peck from you before standing up and wiggling down his pants. Grabbing a fistful of your silky locks. “Good girl- now choke on my cock—“

With a growl, you barely parted your lips as he shoved his massive length down your throat. Slamming his hips against your face while he throat fucked you— Mattheo’s tongue flicking and licking as fast as he could.

Tears pricked your eyes as you fought to keep your glossed-over gaze up on the Italian- a smirk painting over his chiseled face. “You’re close aren’t you?”

You knew your muffled moans vibrating along his dick was probably giving it away and you nodded your head through his plunges in your mouth. “No— Riddle stop,” Theo demanded and Matt shot up, your juices dripping off of his chin.

“The first time I want her to cum…”

Theo shifted over next to Mattheo as he stood up and wiped his mouth. Smirking to each other, Matt moved over to where Theo stood before.

“…I want it to soak my cock—“ Theodore growled, his ocean eyes darkening into a sea of black. With a swift movement, he positioned himself between your legs, teasing his sensitive tip along your leaky slit.

“Y-yes…Fuck—“ Stuttering to yourself, your eyes dashed between the two men, feeling the gondola swing ever so slightly as they shifted over to new positions. “Beg for it-“

Theodore’s domineering tone sent a shiver down your spine- “Please-“ However before you could finish any begging, Matt shoved his cock between your lips, thrusting slowly.

“Keep going—“ The Italian said through gritted teeth, still teasing his throbbing length across your pussy. “P-please…God…Please fuck me- Please!” You spoke over Mattheo’s cock.

Theo hung his head back and let out an animalistic growl before slamming deep inside of your needy cunt. “Cazzo— So fuckin’ wet for us, huh?” He taunted you, Mattheo shooting him a shit-eating grin.

“She loves being spit roasted—“ Mattheo mumbled out deeply, fucking your throat even harder. But you? You were a fucking blissful mess between the two of them. Feeling your eyes already start to roll in the back of your head.

You could feel your orgasm approaching quickly, and your body starting to tremble with euphoric pleasure. “I think she’s getting close, Nott—“ Matt said through a low groan, turned on by the simple sexual aura of you.

“Is that so, Cara mia?”

The question had your submissive stare dancing over to Theo’s. Giving him a subtle head nod through Mattheo’s plows down your throat. Surely you’d have no voice tomorrow.

Theodore slammed his cock faster inside of you, snaking down his hand to apply pressure with his thumb around your clit. Swirling it around in tiny little circles. “Release for me—“

His demand along with all of the other sensations your body was experiencing, Sent you into an earth-shattering orgasm. Your wetness flowed freely down his throbbing length.

“Good fuckin’ girl— Cazzo-“

Theodore slowed down his thrusts, letting the afterglow wash over you while Mattheo pulled out of your mouth. The drool dripping from between your lips. “Fuck— I need to fuck her- feel her…”

Matt sounded hungry, something rumbling within him. However, you noticed the way Theo’s lips curled In a sinister manner. “How do you feel ‘bout anal, pretty girl?” He asked you, Mattheo letting a low chuckle rasp from his throat.

With widened eyes, you could feel your heart thump loudly against your chest. “I-I don’t mind it— I haven’t done it in a while though—“ Speaking shyly, Theodore raised his brows. “What about tonight…Could we both…Fill up those pretty holes of yours?”

With his question, excitement gleamed within Mattheo’s eyes and you swallowed. Fuck it. Why not right? “Y-yes…fuck- please do.” You practically begged the two men and Theo sat down on the seat across, stroking his cock while waiting for you.

Stumbling over, your legs shook with sensitivity, another taunting chuckle escaping Mattheo as he stalked behind you. “We will ease into it- yeah, Tesoro?” Theo murmured across your cheek as you turned around.

Theo’s hands spread your ass cheeks, spitting right onto your little hole before rubbing his thumb over it. He helped lower you onto his length, hissing from the foreign sensation. “Relax—“

Your head shot up to Mattheo’s eager voice, jerking himself off as Theo eased himself into your ass. You obliged, relaxing your body as Theodore slowly pumped himself inside of you.

“Fuck!— Little asshole is so fuckin’ tight-“

Moaning through his words, you didn’t feel pain or pressure…Just pleasure as he fully entered inside of you. Matt now walking up to your spread legs. “You’re such a hot little slut—“

Riddle complimented you but not wasting any time as he pushed his needy cock inside of your already stretched cunt, pounding into you mercilessly. One of his hands going around your throat and gripping hard.

Theo took this time to grab both of your breasts, pinching your nipples to a feeling of ecstasy. You felt so incredibly full and your mind was fuzzy with the immense amount of pleasure soaring within you.

“You weren’t wrong, Nott— She has a damn good pussy-“

The Italian just smirked over at his friend while he helped you move on his cock. You couldn’t even speak, get your raunchy thoughts out. But suddenly you felt that familiar feeling.

“I-I— don’t stop!— Fuck!- I’m gonna cum!”

Screaming with pleasure, you saw fucking stars as you hit yet another climax, this time even more intense than the first. Squirting out onto Matt’s length you swore you physically saw his eyes darken.

“Good girl— feeling so good and full, huh?” Theo spoke right against your ear, but judging by his groans he was close himself. Mattheo’s grip around your throat only tightened. “Such a good girl— gonna make me cum in this pretty cunt-“

You nodded your head, feeling Theo tugging on your nipples harder as they both seemed to fuck you harder. “Give me your cum— both of you— I want it— Fuck!- I want it inside of me— please!”

Crying out your beg, Theodore started pounding deeper inside of your hole, hearing a low growl emitting from his chest before Mattheo fucked your cunt like it was a damn need. His head shot back as he groaned loudly.

Feeling the both of them reach their own orgasm, their cocks throbbed within your walls with the sticky seed they both filled you up with. The three of you caught in haggard breaths.

You were about to speak, to say something. Anything. But you just simply relaxed against Theodore who wrapped his arms around you, his dick still balls deep in your ass while Mattheo pulled out of your cum filled cunt.

Theo leaned up to press a soft yet lingering kiss to your cheek. You couldn’t have believed you had done this but fuck- you weren’t upset about it in the least. Just as you found your words the speakers roared.

“Happy New Year to all of our guests! The lifts will be running here shortly!”

On the 12th day of Dickmas we get… Mattheo and Theodore destroying us🫦🎁

Divider pinned in my masterlist🌙

I can’t believe it’s the end of Dickmas! I hope all my smut sluts and naughty nymphs have enjoyed coming on this wild ride with me! Happy new years, I love you all bunches!💋

۶ৎ boyfriend’s brother!mattheo eating you out while tom’s in the shower

boyfriend’s brother mattheo x fem reader warnings ; 18+ mdni, oral f!recieving, fingering, cheating boyfriend’s brother mattheo moodboard

navigation. au collection. m.list. bfb!mattheo.

you don’t know how it got this far. or maybe you do. 

you don’t even have time to think, not when mattheo’s got you exactly where he wants you—sprawled out on tom’s bed, your thighs trembling in his grip, his mouth pressed against your cunt like it’s his last fucking meal. his tongue is relentless, messy and eager, flicking against your clit before dragging down to fuck into you, obscene sounds filling the room with every desperate, sloppy lick.

“mattheo—” your voice is a strangled whisper, your fingers pulling at his curls, like you’re not sure whether you’re trying to push him away or pull him closer.

“oh, now you remember my name?” he taunts, pulling back just enough to look up at you through dark lashes. his chin is glistening with your arousal, eyes gleaming with something dangerous. “that’s funny. thought it was ‘tom, tom, tom’ with you.”

“you’re a dick.”

“mm. but i’m the one with my tongue on your pussy, not him.” he punctuates his words with a slow, deliberate drag of his tongue, swirling it over your clit just to hear your breath hitch. “what does that say about you, sweetheart? you know my brother’s right there.”

panic flares in your chest, your head snapping toward the bathroom door. tom’s still in the shower, the sound of running water muffling everything, but not enough. not if you keep making noise like this. “mattheo, we—we can’t—”

“we already are.” his voice is thick with amusement, fingers digging into your thighs as he tilts his head, dragging his tongue in slow circles around your clit. “fuckin’ soaked, princess. all that talk about how much you love my brother, yet look at you.” he presses a kiss to your inner thigh, all mockery, all smug satisfaction. “letting me eat you out on his bed.”

your stomach tightens, shame curling through you, but not enough to stop you from rocking your hips against his mouth when he slides two fingers inside of you, curling them just right. your back arches off the mattress, a broken moan slipping past your lips before you can stop it.

mattheo tsks, pulling back just enough to meet your gaze. his lips are shining with you, his chin dripping, and the way he’s looking at you makes your stomach flip. like he owns you. like he’s already won. “so fuckin’ easy,” he mutters, pumping his fingers slow, deep. his thumb presses against your clit, rubbing light, teasing circles that have your thighs shaking. “thought you’d put up more of a fight.”

“fuck you,” you hiss, but it comes out breathy, wrecked, and he grins.

“yeah, we’ll do that too.” he buries his face between your legs again, tongue flicking, fingers thrusting, and your hands fly to your mouth, desperate to muffle the moans spilling from your lips. but he’s not having it. he yanks one of your hands away, pinning it to your stomach, his other hand still gripping your thigh open. “don’t you fuckin’ dare,” he growls. “i wanna hear you. wanna hear every little sound you make.”

your head tips back against the pillows, your free hand twisting in the sheets. “mattheo—oh my god—”

“c’mon, princess. cum on my tongue,” he urges, voice thick with hunger, with something darker, something possessive. he sucks your clit between his lips, and the coil in your stomach snaps, pleasure slamming into you so hard you forget everything—where you are, who you’re supposed to be loyal to. the only thing that exists is mattheo’s mouth, his hands, the low, satisfied chuckle he lets out as he watches you fall apart beneath him.

he doesn’t stop until you’re squirming away, too sensitive, your breath coming in quick, uneven gasps. only then does he pull back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, his dark eyes gleaming.

he leans over you, caging you in, lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, “go clean yourself up, princess. wouldn’t want tom to see you like this, yeah?”

and just like that, he’s gone, slipping out the door like he was never there, leaving you wrecked, panting, and stained with the taste of betrayal.

© leona-hawthorne 2025. please do not copy, translate or repost any of my writing.

viv jsjsjsjsjjsjsj i’m so excited for this you have no fucking idea 🙂‍↕️ i’m outside your door waiting for a kiss

With a rough exterior, it takes a certain someone to break down his walls.

this is so beautiful, that i don’t even know if i should be wet or scream doing both as we speak 🙂‍↕️

Tattoo Artist!Theo

Tattooartist!theo who is a major fuck boy, getting any woman he wants. Someone who has never been for settling down and basically lives as a free spirit. Your body is canvas and he wants nothing more than to splatter his art all over it. With a rough exterior, it takes a certain someone to break down his walls. With a naturally dominant personality, he also has sarcasm that drips from his lips in a sort of sinister way. Nothing but surprises will come your way…very soon—

Ahhhhh guuuuuys!!! I’m too excited for this AU heheh- more coming soon👀

Divider linked in my masterlist 🌙

Love my naughty nymphs 💋

kira is basically cleopatra when it comes to au’s, and i fucking live for it

i can’t wait to f**** this man until 🫣

── .ᡣ𐭩 PIMP!THEO

ᡣ𐭩 pimp!theo – a local pimp whose notoriety goes beyond the city. has his own strip club/house, but sneakily scouts in different ones, luring the girls he deems worthy into his web. has an extensive clientele from around the country, and it’s not easy to get into the circle – he’s very picky. takes care of what he considers his, which are his girls, reputation and money.

nav / more // aus / all content

─ .✦ DAY TWO | [02/15] : MATTHEO.

prythian's princess presents... day two of the valentine special ⋆.˚ .ᐟ please give a big round of applause as we welcome mattheo into the mix. the true definition of bloody, slutty, and pathetic.

[blood kink] — an unconventional sexual interest in blood. people with a blood kink may be aroused by seeing, touching, or tasting blood.

[knife play] — a form of consensual bdsm edgeplay involving knives, daggers, and swords as a source of physical and mental stimulation.

home ✦ special ✦ more

there was something seriously wrong with mattheo riddle.

within him was a festering desire, an insatiable craving that he could neither deny nor satisfy. his appetite hungered for something dark, depraved, and demented, an abomination yearning to be fulfilled. mattheo never thought that he would unleash the monster within him.

until you.

most of the time, he was able to control it, but sometimes mattheo just needed release and you were the perfect person to give it to him.

pretty brown eyes blinked down at you, his gaze clouded with lust and desire as mattheo dragged the tip of his dagger down your body. you were stripped bare and spread out so prettily for him, your wrists bound above your head with his emerald and silver tie. you bit your lip as the sharp edge of his blade caressed your skin like a lover's embrace.

it always amazed him how eager you were, how responsive your body was to the depraved acts that he inflicted upon you. anyone else would have balked at the carnality of his nature, but you seemed enthralled by every fucked up thing that mattheo desired. probably because you were just as fucked up as he was.

even now, you moaned in pleasure as mattheo carved his initials into your inner thigh. a normal person would have ran for the hills at the question he had posed at the beginning of the night, but mattheo had seen the glimmer in your eyes. the absence of judgment as you undressed and presented your body to him without hesitation.

"do you like it when I carve you up, baby?" mattheo hummed, his heavy lidded gaze examining his work with appreciation.

"yes," you answered in a breathy voice. "make me yours, matty."

mattheo sucked in a breath. the blood rushed out his head and straight to his cock. “I will, princess. after tonight, everyone will know who you belong to.”

as he traced his fingers over the m and r permanently carved into your skin, mattheo felt the monster within him sigh in satisfaction. the constant buzzing of his thoughts stopped all at once at the sight of his initials slashed onto your flesh like a brand. a declaration that you belonged to him and him alone.

his kisses were a searing brand against your lips, full of affection and devotion. mattheo murmured whispers of praise as he dragged his dagger down your body, grazing your nipples ever so slightly. you tensed at the sensation, but never once faltered in your trust that mattheo wouldn’t harm you. dark eyes flickered with delight as you smiled up at him, so serene and peaceful even though you were entirely at his mercy.

mattheo settled between your thighs, his eager lips sucking up the blood dripping from the scars. “so fucking perfect,” he praised. “you look so pretty wearing my name.”

you moaned as he trailed hot, open-mouthed kisses on your thighs, his dark eyes glimmering wickedly as he hooked your legs over his shoulders. his gaze remained on you as he sucked hard on your clit. the sensation felt heavenly, making you arch your back on the mattress. mattheo held your hips down as he french kissed your pussy, the stroke of his tongue massaging your folds in a way that made your head spin.

the lower half of his face was covered in crimson, but he didn’t let the blood deter him from the task at hand. if anything, the mess made him hornier than he already was. mattheo rutted against the bed as he slipped his tongue inside of you, fucking you with his mouth with a steady rhythm. the scars on your thigh welted with blood and stained everything — his nose, his mouth, his jaw was covered with it. the entire thing was so unbelievably fucked up, but he couldn’t help but be so fucking turned on by the depravity of it all.

“matty, oh god,” you panted, tugging at his curls as he brought you closer to your orgasm.

“look at you,” mattheo drawled. “such a fucking mess for me. letting me eat you out with your blood all over my face. you’re just as fucked in the head as I am, aren’t you, baby?”

“yes, yes, oh god, yes.” mattheo flicked his tongue on your clit back and forth, stimulating the bundle of nerve until you keened and arched against his mouth. “oh fuck, baby, i’m coming…”

the pressure on your lower abdomen was too much and you released it all at once, liquid gushing all over the sheets. dark eyes flickered up to your face, drinking in the way you looked as you squirted into his mouth. mattheo thought that you were the perfect picture of sin, eyes rolling back, thighs squeezing him in place, back arching off the bed as you came.

“you’re fucking filthy, baby,” mattheo said with a dark chuckle. “if I knew this was all it took to make you squirt, I would’ve asked to carve you up sooner.”

“i’ve never — i’ve never done that before,” you declared incredulously. “I didn’t even think I could squirt.”

“now that I know that you can, i’m gonna fuck you until you squirt all over my cock.”

mattheo’s mouth glistened with your blood and cum as he held his dagger against your throat. the silver steel kept you in place as mattheo unbuckled his belt, throwing his head back as he pumped his hard cock. you whimpered underneath him, wanting nothing more than to touch and taste and feel him. mattheo tutted, pressing his dagger down until tears of crimson dribbled down your breasts.

“stay still, princess,” mattheo commanded as he continued pumping himself. he chuckled darkly to himself when you released a shaky breath, careful not to cut yourself any further. “what am I saying? you’re not going anywhere, baby.”

this warmed my heart so much, omfg. it was so cutesy, and the way you could put all his character traits into a fluffy story was just chef’s kiss. i’m going to kiss you jsjsjsjsjsjsj

Smutmas 2024 | ᴛᴏᴍ ʀɪᴅᴅʟᴇ x ʀᴏꜱɪᴇʀ ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

I Appreciate You.

Short summary: After some persuasion, Tom joins you for Christmas dinner. Only then he finds out your parents haven’t exactly treated you well and seizes the opportunity to show you what it means to be truly appreciated.

Warnings: nothing, just fluff (for now…)

A/N: I have entered a bad case of writing block halfway through this, so I cut it short. I AM SORRY. I’ll take a day or two off and write a pt 2☹️

wordcount: 1,6k

Tom and you have been friends for a while – or rather study accomplices, as he would call it. Though lately, you have grown closer. Oddly close, at least if you knew Riddle, who wasn’t one to interact with others unless it served a purpose. You have known that from the beginning, so it never really appeared to you why he would be different towards you exactly – but you weren’t going to complain about someone tutoring you after all – someone who was equally as smart as pretty.

“You forgot pearl dust.” he sighs in disappointment, not looking up as he fidgets with his quill. “Tom it’s been two hours, my head is a mess. Let’s take a break?”

His gaze flicks from his quill to your eyes and stares at you briefly before speaking up. “I don’t take breaks. If you want me to keep being generous enough to help you, you do it my way.”

That’s how it goes every single time. You don’t argue against it – you just do what he says. The desperation to become better at Potions is greater than your ego after all and you have also come to notice it is better not to talk back to him. The last time you did, he wouldn’t even speak to you for two weeks after.

Tom clears his throat and you return your focus to the present. “It’s been an unnecessarily long time since you have started staring at me. Focus on your textbook.”

“Right, right! Sorry.” Your cheeks heat up and you repeat the brewing process from the beginning.

After what feels like an eternity, he is satisfied – as much as he could be. Tom obviously is never fully satisfied, always has something to criticize that you didn’t do right, something he says you would need to work on the next time you two meet to study.

There was always going to be a next time.

As you two pack up, you see house elves working on the Christmas decorations just outside the library, putting up a pine tree and some red and golden ornaments. It’s the Thursday before winter break, and you would soon go home to spend the time with your family. They have told you to bring a friend, though all of them have declined so far. You would just go alone. Until – well, you think about Tom.

“Uh, I actually have one more question.” You start, turning to face him. He raises his eyebrows expectantly signalling you to continue. “Soooo, I have been wanting to ask you whether you wanted to join me for Christmas dinner at home. My parents have asked me to bring someone along.”

“We aren’t friends. Besides that, I don’t celebrate Christmas.”

That’s exactly the answer you assumed he’d give, but you weren’t going to give up that easily. Your family has been talking about him often lately, about the Gaunt family, purebloods just like you. All the things they say you don’t understand anyway. It’s been like that since you were born, they always favoured your older brother over you. You have stopped arguing against it.

“Come on, Tom! It’s just a dinner, one evening. I know you don’t usually leave Hogwarts for Christmas break, I just wanted to give you the opportunity to meet my parents. They have been talking about you.”

He contemplates for a moment then. He is aware that his family, at least his mother’s side, has caught people’s attention. Apparently also the Rosiers’. Rosier family, part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. It would only be to his benefit to get to know them personally. And he hated admitting it, but lately - he has found himself strangely intrigued by you. A smart girl, who wouldn’t normally need his tutoring, not if he didn’t tell you to come back every week for another lesson.

“I suppose I will think about it. If I decide for it, I will join you at the train station.”

Your lips curl into a bright smile. “Thank you, Tommy! You are the best.”

He sighs. “How often have I told you to stop calling me that?”

“Sorry, sorry! I am just super excited to introduce you. They have been pestering me with questions about your mother’s family.”

You swear you see a slight spark in his eyes at the mention of his mother, though his usual stern expression returns just a second later. “Have a good evening.” he replies and leaves you behind at the library without saying another word.

-

There has not been a single sign of Tom when you board the train. Secretly you have hoped he would come and join you, though as soon as you leave the station you find yourself at peace with the fact you’d be going home alone for the break. The scenery shifts as you look out of the window, a thick layer of snow covering the otherwise green Scottish Highlands. You see deer scavenging for any grass they can find, scraping at the frozen ground with their hooves, the nearby hares’ white winter fur blending in perfectly with the scenery.

There aren’t too many students in your wagon, meaning you get to have a compartment all for yourself. Just like normally, your eyes grow tired, voices around you turning into a blur, and you fall asleep.

It wasn’t long until someone clearing their throat, taking a seat next to you woke you again. “So, what’s for dinner?” he asks, and you turn to face him.

Your face lights up at the sight of the person in front of you. “Tom! I am so happy you decided to come along!”

“I suppose it’s a welcome opportunity to connect with another renowned family.” he replies, and you nod, though slightly disappointed. “Of course.”

The rest of the journey, both of you don’t speak much. It’s a weird energy between you, something you don’t quite recognize. You are glad – as glad as you could be, knowing your family awaits you just outside – when the train arrives at your station. Both of you get off, and your mother’s and father’s faces light up at the sight of, not you, but Tom. They greet him first, ask him how the journey has been.

It’s only when you arrive at home that they ask you to help prepare dinner while Tom’s being shown around the manor. Even at dinner they won’t let him be and you wonder whether it was a good decision to bring him home with you.

In a moment of silence, your mother first looks at you, then at him. A smile forms on her face, something you only rarely get to see and you wonder what may be behind it.

“We are so glad you have decided to join us. Our daughter really couldn’t have chosen a better boyfriend.”

Oh.

You feel your heart drop in your chest at her words. They must have misunderstood the situation. Your cheeks heat up and you see Tom’s face changing into one of confusion.

Trying to save the evening, you quickly try to explain. “No it’s- we are not-“

“I am pleased to hear I am meeting your expectations.”

Tom’s words cut you off, and for a moment you aren’t sure whether you have heard him correctly. You blink a few times and shoot him a confused look, and he smiles at you.

Smiles.

You nod quickly, lowering your gaze onto the plate in front of you as you feel your cheeks heat up. For the rest of the evening, you don’t say much, even when you all gather around the Christmas tree. They ask questions about your relationship, which only Tom answers. He sits next to you and as the night progresses, his hand wanders up your lower back, snaking around your waist. You visibly shiver at his touch but decide to play along.

As soon as everyone has excused themselves to bed, you move away a little, escaping his grip. “Tom, I am sorry, they must have completely misunderstood.”

He shakes his head. “Don’t apologize.”

“No really I-“

“Sshhh.” he whispers, his face inching closer to yours then, capturing you in a tender kiss. His hand rests on the back of your head, softly pressing you against him. You inhale deeply as you break apart, your eyes trailing up from his lips to his eyes. It’s only the candles on the Christmas tree that shine a dim light on both of your forms, yet you are able to make out the changed look on his face.

“We shouldn’t.” you murmur, shaking your head.

“I see the way you look at me in the library. And you perfectly know why I want to keep meeting you. Yet both of us are too stubborn to admit it.”

Though you hate to admit it, he’s right.

“I just didn’t think you would like someone like me.”

Tom huffs. “You never acknowledge your worth, and I suspect that is what your parents have taught you. They don’t see your potential. They diminish your achievements. Why do you let them?” he asks, and you rest your head on his shoulder.

“I have stopped caring a long while ago. You know how it is.”

Tom doesn’t reply after that, though his hand continues running up and down your back soothingly. You stay like this for a while, until he slowly turns his head, facing you.

“I will show them what it means to appreciate you.”

His voice is low and controlled as his face is a mere inch away from yours, his breath warm on your skin.

“I will show you what it means to be appreciated.”

i could say i’m surprised, but at this point i’m really not because you’re so damn good at everything you write, and i stand by that. i mean, all your works are amazing, but this one is definitely in my top 3, no doubt. maybe i’m a little biased because i fucking love enzo, but either way, the talent is all there (your brain duh)🧏🏻‍♀️

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

boy is sweating, i just know it (AS HE SHOULD)

To everyone else, you looked effortlessly put together-an angel in your festive sweater and jeans, so soft, so sweet. But Lorenzo knew better.

this little smug bastard knowing his girl like the back of his hand, it’s canon, everyone knows it hehe, and i love that you included it here 🌝

you chimed in, your voice light and teasing. "Oh, don't blame the wine. Lorenzo's just got a lot on his mind tonight."

i looooove the reader’s personality, she knows how to handle Lorenzo and i’m all for it. she’s so sassy lmao, it’s hilarious 😭 she needs to slap him

You tilted your head, a slow smile curving your lips. "Dessert already? But the night's just getting started, isn't it?" "Don't worry, love," you said softly, just loud enough for him to hear. "I'll make sure you get exactly what you want... eventually." subtle graze of your fingers against his arm or leg, pushing his limits without saying a word.

hi soooo, i need a reader x reader story like RIGHT NOW, she’s so fucking hot helleoooolosisjshstfvhaysgsg (lorenzo is 💦💦 in his pants)

You shrugged, feigning innocence. "Everyone had a good time. What's there to complain about?" Lorenzo took a slow step forward, his gaze fixed on yours. "You know exactly what."

he’s so done but as i said ‘prove do seu veneno’ ✋🏻✊🏻

He gestured toward the sweater with a flick of his fingers. "Go on, then. Show me." Without giving you a chance to say another word, he dropped you onto the bed with a force that made the mattress bounce.

nothing—JUST THIS LEONA MARIA WHEN I CAT H YOUEJAYWYWHHEHWGWHWB

Without warning, he yanked at the straps of your lingerie, pulling them down just enough to expose your breasts. His hands immediately moved to cup them, squeezing and kneading them with rough insistence.

the way i imagine this in my head… i’m so 🫠🫠🫠🫠 because he’s the type of guy who does stuff like this without any warning

"You think you can tease me like this and get away with it?"

i would tease him on purpose after this

"Begging already?" "Patience, darling," "I wonder if you've been like this all night, haven't you? Wet and needy, waiting for me to touch you."

cocky smug bastard fuck me and yes you’re right enzo 🤭🤭🤭

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

PUT THIS ON MY GRAVE, LEONA THIS IS MAKING ME FEEL THINGS

He buried himself deep inside you, his fingers still squeezing your tits, almost as if to ground himself. You both stayed there for a moment, still tangled together, breathless and satiated. Lorenzo leaned down, kissing your neck softly, his voice low and teasing.

i love that he’s treating us like a princess after ruining us, that’s so sweet of him. i want to slap him so bad

LEONA, this was incredible. the dialogues, the tension, the group moments—everything was spot on and made me feel so involved in the narrative. 😣😣😣😣 your works always make me feel like i’m actually in it with them, and i love that because you’re so fucking talented, omfg, don’t even get me started. and the smut?! GIRL, IT WAS SO HOT. i’m obsessed with it, with everything you do, actually!!!!! 🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️

FICMAS #9— WRAPPED IN RED / lorenzo berkshire

december 27th

lorenzo berkshire x fem reader

summary: surprising your beloved boyfriend in your favorite festive colors…

warnings: smut mdni, unprotected piv, degradation/praise, lingerie, nipple sucking, titty slapping (?), creampie, established relationship

words: 3.8k

a/n: sorry i’ve been kind of MIA the past two days bbs, i will get to my inbox soon <3 (forgot to do the taglist when i first posted this so i added it now!)

navigation ficmas masterlist

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

And it was your fault.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

need this, need him, need your writing

being with you doesn't feel like drowning,

from vi

ᰔ pairing . . . m. townsend !

ᰔ with . . . a f!reader

ᰔ category . . . angst. hurt with comfort. one - shot. requested.

ᰔ in which . . . when you saw michael's injuries, everything falls apart. trust is broken, & the connection you two had is tested. michael attempts to keep the truth from you, but it's too late▰the damage is done. now, both of you have to deal with the repercussions of your actions.

ᰔ tags . . . 5.4k. major spoilers. reader is not a natural but not invisible. raised in the house, still feels like a guest. trust issues ft. too many secrets. blue-purple bruises. “i never asked you to love me” <— okay jane austen boy, ouch. the slow burn of breaking down walls. everyone knows but no one says it. fbi = feelings buried indefinitely. friends who read you like crime scenes. windowsill confessions. love, interrupted. trust issues but make it cozy. held together by forehead kisses. he reads you better than his files. love in lowercase. statistics say he shouldn't love this hard (he does). he’d classify you as essential personnel. ooc. grammatical errors.

ᰔ look around . . . m. list , m. townsend & the naturals m. list

────── vi whispers . . . ᰔ

001. AAAAA, nonnie,,, this was supposed to be 7k but it DIDN'T save💔 im sorryyyyy😭😭

002. you sent this around three am ish & i was LOCKED in❕❕

003. idk if i did you justice, nonnie 💔💔

004. horrible writing because i started writing this at,,,, 3 am

005. also... i couldn't keep this spoiler free😭😭 my head was blank because WHAT WOULD THE TOPIC OF THEIR ARGUMENT BE????? so i js... tweaks & tweaks..

006. as i said in note four,, this is badly written so don't expect much 😭 I CAN'T WRITE ANGST

you weren't supposed to be here.

judd had instructed you to remain where you were, michael would return tomorrow.

& sure, perhaps you were snooping, perhaps you shouldn't have gone into his room without knocking, but you were missing him, and the jacket he'd left behind still smelled of him.

besides, you've done the groceries.(that usually takes you all day because the group chat keeps adding more things to the list.)

so you'd gone in.

& hell broke loose.

because the moment you laid eyes on the bruises, the cut on his jaw, the way he winced when he reached too far▰your breath caught in your throat.

you weren't a profiler, hell, you're not even a natural but you weren't stupid either.

you knew what a beating looked like. & michael could lie with a smile, but his body was always honest. especially to you.

he turned just as you walked in.

froze.

like a deer in headlights.

like he hadn't meant for anyone to see him this way.

you didn't speak.

he didn't either.

just stood there, half-shirted, ribs smeared with ugly blue-purple marks.

& god, it was like someone injected ice water into your veins.

because he told you it was a family business.

he told you he was fine.

& you believed him.

"what the hell," you said, hushed. too hushed.

he hauled down the hem of his shirt. "it's nothing."

"don't," you said, & your voice broke in a way you despised.

"don't do that."

he sat on the edge of the bed like this was normal. like you didn't just interrupt something that made your chest too tight to breathe.

"you're back early," he said, staring at the floor.

"& you're bruised," you snapped. "so maybe we both have bad timing."

he sighed. "it's not a big deal."

"not a big deal?" you had said, voice rising before you pushed it back down. "michael, what the hell are you even saying right now?"

he didn't glance your way.

didn't blink.

just kept his eyes fixed on the floor as if he remained silent long enough, all of this would disappear.

"you went back there," you told him. "to your dad."

"i told you i was visiting family."

"you lied."

he glanced up then, and sure, maybe you did wait for that. maybe you needed to see his face.

because he didn't look angry.

he looked exhausted.

so exhausted it curled your stomach.

"what do you want me to say?" he asked.

you blinked. "i want you to say something."

he got up, & you resented how slow & deliberate his movements were.

you resented that he was accustomed to pain like this.

like it was normal.

like it was a habit.

"i'm fine."

"you're not fine."

"this happens," he said. "it's not new."

you stepped forward, fists curled at your sides. "you've been my boyfriend for months. & i never knew."

"because i didn't want you to know."

that line hurt more than it should have.

"why?"

"because it's my problem," he stated, finally, like something in him cracked open.

"it's not yours. it's not anyone's. i've been dealing with this my whole life▰"

"that's the problem," you cut in, voice low. "you deal with it like it's your fault."

he paced slightly, running a hand through his hair. "don't psychoanalyze me."

"i'm not," you said. "i'm begging you to talk to me."

he fell silent again.

& you hated that.

because he was so good at this▰retreating into silence, allowing you to talk until you quit.

but you weren't quitting. not today.

"do you even trust me?" you asked.

his jaw clenched. "don't do that."

"don't do what?" you snapped. "don't ask if my boyfriend▰who's keeping this from me▰trusts me?"

he remained silent.

"you didn't tell me," you breathed. "you didn't tell anyone, but▰"

"lia knows," he blurted out before he could stop himself.

you stiffened.

you glared at him like he slapped you.

"what?"

he gazed away once more. "she figured it out. it's not like i told her."

"but she knew," you replied. "and she didn't say anything."

"that's not her job."

"it's not yours either, apparently," you snarled.

the silence that hung between you afterwards was colder than anything else.

you didn't weep. you wouldn't.

but god, you wished to scream.

"do you have any idea how dumb this makes me feel?" you asked, voice trembling though you resented that it was. "do you have any idea how it feels to be excluded from everything because i'm not one of you?"

his eyes grew cold. "this has nothing to do with you not being a natural."

"doesn't it?" you asked. "because you tell them things. they know things. & i'm just the girl who was raised in the house & still gets treated like a guest."

he opened his mouth. closed it.

& that was the worst part▰he didn't argue.

he didn't fight back.

because maybe he knew you were right.

"i've been here since i was eight," you said. "i grew up with you people. judd raised me. hell, tanner used to read me silly bedtime stories, i cleaned up after sloane when she spilled powdered sugar all over the place, i held lia's hand when she got stitches, i taught dean how to braid hair because his kept falling in his eyes, i let cassie stay in my room because that stupid locke haunts her every time.”

your voice cracked again.

you're no natural, just someone scarlett hawkins took in before she died. & judd didn't send you to an orphanage because he knows that this is what his daughter wants. you don't know what she sees in you, but there was something. you had skills, enough to be qualified in the fbi. if it weren't for your age.

"but i'm not a natural. so i'm not one of you."

michael didn't look at you.

& that only made it worse.

"you were the only one who made me feel like i belonged," you said softly now. "you were the only one who didn't look at me like i was on the outside. so i don't get why you shut me out too."

he finally looked up.

& he looked destroyed. wrecked.

"because it's not about you," he told me, & his voice wasn't angry. just tired. "it's about me. it's about not wanting to see your face change when you look at me. it's about keeping the only good thing in my life safe."

"safe?" you echoed. "from what? the truth?"

"from me."

you looked at him.

& this time, you said nothing.

he exhaled & sat back down, as if standing was now too much work.

"you weren't supposed to see," he said. "i know how to handle it. i've done it before."

"& how's that working out for you?" you asked, frustration boiling. "you keep going back, michael. you keep getting hurt. what, you think that's brave? you think it's strength?"

"i think it's survival," he said harshly.

"then perhaps you should learn a new means of survival."

he didn't say anything.

you took a trembling breath, pacing now, because if you stood still the room felt like it was closing in on you.

"you should've told me," you said. "even if you didn't want to be helped. even if you didn't want me to make it better. i'm not asking to be your savior. i'm just asking to know."

he nodded once, slowly.

but it did not feel like an honest answer.

it felt like he was folding in again on himself.

closing off.

retreating.

"you don't get to make choices about me," you said, coming closer again. "you don't get to choose what i can or cannot handle. if you didn't want me on board, then maybe you should not have gotten me to fall in love with you."

his head jerked up.

you hadn't intended to say it like that.

but it was out now, & you weren't backing down.

"i never asked you to love me," he said, voice low but cutting.

& wow.

that hurt more than it should've.

you blinked. "no. i guess you didn't."

he shut his eyes. ran his hands through his hair once more. "that's not what i meant."

"but it's what you said."

he glared up at you again. "i didn't mean it like that. i just▰this▰"

he pointed vaguely at his ribs.

"this is ugly. & i didn't want you to see it."

"well, i did," you said. "so now what?"

he didn't speak.

you looked at each other for what felt like an eternity.

neither of you saying a word.

& perhaps that was worse than the words.

because it meant you were both suspended in the in-between.

not broken up.

not fine.

just there.

distant, angry, & unsure what was next.

the ssilence between you & michael was heavy for days.

it wasn't just the fight anymore▰it was the way it landed in the space between you.

you weren't broken up, but the air was thick with things unspoken, with questions still hanging, unasked.

you tried to concentrate on the work.

attempted to bury yourself in homework, in assisting the team, despite your heart feeling as if it were walking around with a pain you could not rid yourself of.

didn't help that everyone else seemed to be able to tell something was wrong.

lia saw someone was off first, naturally.

she always did. she knows you. & that isn't because she's a lie detector or anything of the sort.

she was a lie detector, & even when you tried to smile, she was aware.

the way your shoulders stiffened every time michael entered the room. the manner in which you always averted your gaze before anyone had time to ask. you could sense her gaze upon you, could sense her attempting to read you & send shivers down your spine.

but you never allowed her to ask.

you couldn't.

not yet.

cassie. oh, cassie. she noticed. when she came to your room that night, asking for comfort, your eyes looked puffy. red.

you looked like you didn't want to talk about it. so she didn't. only hoping her embrace will at least make you feel better. hoping that the next time she enters your room, your eyes won't look tired or puffy or red or sad.

& then there was dean.

dean. someone who knew you since you were twelve.

dean. someone whom you thought of as a brother in every sense that counted.

dean, who observed you going in & out of the safe house with michael, who guarded you with a look that made his eyes keen & his fists even keener.

you noticed it in the way he looked at you now.

the way he questioned you with his eyes, with the way he stayed too long when you entered the kitchen for breakfast.

you detested that look.

you hated that he could see through the cracks, but you didn't want to speak up.

so you didn't.

instead, you concentrated on the people who didn't ask the questions▰like sloane.

sloane, who always had a way of seeing things without mentioning them.

she was quiet in her noticing.

but she could sense the tension, & she was there when you needed her most.

you were sitting at the kitchen counter, doing your best to ignore the glaring emptiness in your chest, when sloane came over, sitting beside you, her hand casually brushing yours.

you didn’t flinch.

you didn’t pull away.

but it was comforting.

it was sloane.

“you okay?” she asked quietly.

you swallowed.

“yeah. i’m fine.”

sloane didn’t buy it.

& she didn’t press either.

she simply left her hand hovering close to yours, a gentle pull, a comfort that didn't demand anything back.

it was in these small moments that you felt the cracks in your heart start to mend▰slowly, agonizingly, but they mended.

but even the tiniest crack won't go undetected.

not when lia's around.

the instant you walked into the room, lia raised an eyebrow.

you attempted to escape her stare, but she saw you anyway.

she rose to her feet, approaching you, her expression impossible to read.

"tell me," she told you, voice soft but slicing all at the same time. "what happened?"

you stalled.

you knew she knew.

you just didn't know what to say.

"nothing's wrong," you grumbled, attempting to brush it off, but lia was not accepting anything.

"nothing?" she repeated, folding her arms. "then why do you look like someone stole your soul?"

you bit your lip.

you couldn't lie to her, not like this. "we fought," you said, voice strained. "that's all."

lia's expression softened, but her frown grew deeper.

"about what?" she asked. you shook your head, already knowing what would happen if you told her.

she knows. you were upset at first. but you knew it's not her fault for knowing.

she didn't need to know everything. "it's just. it's complicated." lia looked at you for a long time.

& for a moment, you'd hoped maybe she'd let it drop.

but no.

lia wasn't the kind of girl to let something go.

particularly when it involved you.

"so. he hurt you," she stated, not a question, but fact.

you bristled, heart skipping a beat in your chest.

you couldn't meet her gaze. because pergaps she wasn't wrong.

"no," you asserted hastily, shaking your head. "not like that."

but lia could see right through you.

she always had. she moved a little closer, voice low & guarded.

"i won't help you unless you tell me."

you groaned.

"i'm not hiding anything. i just. i don't know how to put this into words. i just need space."

lia gazed at you for a moment, & you could see her considering her words.

then she just said, "just don't push him away. whatever it is, it's not worth losing him over." you nodded, feeling the heaviness of her words hit you.

you didn't want to lose him. but you didn't want to hurt him either.

you and michael were moving around like strangers.beyes not meeting. words few and far between. but it wasn't easy to forget. not when you shared a house full of people who noticed everything.

at dinner one evening, judd sat beside you, observing you with his characteristic silent watchfulness.

you were fiddling with your food, shoving it round your plate, hardly eating it. he didn't tell you what was the matter, but you could sense him looking at you▰like he was waiting for you to talk. & at last he spoke.

"you have to talk to him," judd said, his tone as quiet as ever. he doesn't know what happened. & he won't ask.

you shook your head hastily.

you're not even surprised that he knows.

"i can't."

"why?" he asked.

you bit your lip, not meeting his eyes.

"because i don't know how. because everything's all screwed up, and i'm. i'm afraid. i'm afraid that whatever this is, it's gonna ruin everything we have." judd sighed, leaning back in his chair, arms crossed.

"you've been through worse, kid. you know that, right?" you glanced at him.

which is correct. you not being a natural doesn't excuse what you've been through. scarlett hawkins. lacey locke. your past.

when scarlett died, judd knew he wasn't the only one struggling.

yes, he had lost a daughter, & you have lost a sister. not by blood. & blood wasn't a necessity for scarlett when it came to you.

briggs making the program was what saved the both of you. dean saved the both of you. not just dean. he saved veronica sterling.

"yeah, but. this feels different."

"of course it does," he whispered. "but you can't keep running from him. you have to figure this out."

you were quiet for a long time, taking in his words.

he was right.

you couldn't just hide from him forever.

you had to confront him. just… when?

it was late when michael appeared in your room that night.

the door creaked quietly as he pushed it open, & you looked up from where you sat at the window. you didn't say anything at first. didn't know what to say. he didn't wait for an invitation.

just walked in and shut the door behind him, standing beside it for a moment. "can we talk?" he asked, voice low.

you nodded slowly, biting the inside of your cheek.

michael leaned against the edge of your bed, a couple of feet from you.

you remained by the window, uncertain if you should approach.

the tension between you was thick once more.

both of you being so cautious, as if anything wrong would break it all. "i'm sorry," he broke the silence.

his voice low, too quiet. "i know i messed up. i didn't mean to hurt you. i just. i didn't want you to know. i didn't want you to see me like that." you at last turned to look at him.

"but you lied. you kept things from me, michael." he nodded, downcast eyes.

"i know. & i'm sorry. i just. i didn't think you could handle it."

"you don't get to decide that," you breathed, moving in close to him.

"you can't shut me out like that."

he stared up at you, his face filled with regret.

"i know. i messed up." you sat beside him, the gap between you still too great.

but you couldn't help it. you were afraid.

"i'm just angry," you confessed quietly. "i'm angry that you didn't trust me enough to share. i'm angry that you think i can't handle it. but i don't despise you, michael. i could never despise you."

his hand crawled out, touching your fingers softly.

you did not jerk away. you let him.

"i know i've been stupid," he declared. "but i never had any intention to hurt you. i just. i'm just so used to facing it all alone. i don't even know how to ask for things to be easier."

you took a jerky breath, eyes dropping from yours to fall upon your other hand, still clenching his.

"i'm sorry," you explained, voice shaky.

"i'm probably being selfish. i just. i just need to know you're okay. i don't want to keep pretending like everything's fine when you're falling apart." he shook his head softly.

"you're not being selfish. i'm just stupid for not seeing how much you care." you paused for a moment, gazing at him.

"are you okay?" he closed his eyes, tightening his grip on your hand.

"yeah. i'm getting there."

"it's okay," you whispered softly, reaching up to brush his cheek.

"it's okay to not be okay."byou overanalyzed every little touch, making sure not to hurt him.

but michael drew you in, holding you tight, his head against yours. "stop overthinking it," he whispered. "you're not hurting me. you never will."

& for the first time in days, you felt the tension finally release.the evening following your conversation with michael, things were quieter, more gentle. the air between you two wasn't as stifling, but it wasn't completely healed either. nonetheless, there was a shift.

the house was quiet that evening. everyone was in bed or otherwise occupied, leaving you & michael alone in the living room. the gentle hum of the fridge & the muffled sounds of traffic somewhere outside were the only things disrupting the silence.

michael sat on the couch, the same spot where you’d spent so many nights together. this time, though, it was different. there was no tension, no walls between you. just a quiet, comfortable silence.

you sat at the edge of the couch, uncertain at first, not wanting to know what to do after all that happened. you did not want to intrude upon him, did not want to make matters worse by pushing his limits.

but michael, as ever, appeared to be reading you like an open book. without uttering a word, he eased slightly to the side, opening up space for you to sit beside him. his eyes were warm, the slightest suggestion of a smile pulling at his mouth, as if he was promising you something.

"come here," he breathed softly, his voice gruff but gentle.

you bit your lip, nervousness rising up in your chest. "are you sure?" you asked softly, still not knowing if your touch would hurt him.

he smiled at you, the kind of smile that was only for you, & nodded. "yeah, i'm sure. you're not gonna hurt me, y'know."

you paused for another second, then slowly walked towards him. as you sat beside him, his arm fell naturally across your shoulders, drawing you closer.

but you tensed slightly, still overthinking every little thing, every small touch. you weren't accustomed to feeling so guarded, so attuned to everything.

"i don't want to hurt you," you breathed, voice so soft it was barely audible. "i'm just. i don't know how to do this without hurting you more."

michael smiled gently, the warmth of the sound enveloping you like a blanket. "you're not going to hurt me, angel. you're not.”

he tugged you a little nearer, & this time you let yourself slip into his side. being close to him felt so normal, so comfortable, that you couldn't help relaxing slightly, allowing your head to lean on his shoulder.

"i just▰" you'd begun, but michael interrupted, raising his hand to tilt your chin up carefully so that you were facing him. his eyes were so soft, so knowing. as though he could penetrate right through your fears.

"it's all right," he whispered. "i know that you're being careful. but you're not going to break me, you know that?"

you nodded, but the knot in your chest did not completely dissipate. you still wished to ensure that you were not doing anything wrong, even in a momeent such as this, when all you wished for was to feel close to him.

michael appeared to sense the restlessness still present within you, & his hand softly cupped your cheek. "hey," he whispered, "if you're not comfortable with anything, you can let me know, okay?"

you smiled softly, grateful for his patience. “i’m okay now. just. just scared of hurting you.”

he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “you’re not going to. just trust me.”

you blinked your eyes shut for a second, allowing the heat of his hand seep into your skin, & gradually, all your tension dissolved. you felt the calm rhythm of his breathing, the way his pulse beat in sync with yours in perfect harmony.

"i'm sorry i was acting weird earlier," you mumbled, voice hardly above a whisper.

"don't apologize," he told you, his thumb making little circles on the back of your hand. "you've got nothing to be sorry for."

he was right, but the guilt still hung in your chest. you couldn't help it. you cared too much. you just wanted to protect him, even when he wasn't asking for it.

you moved closer, not bothering to be cautious anymore. the way his arms were wrapped around you was stabilizing, like

"thank you for not giving up on me," you whispered, your fingers tracing across his arm. "i don't know what i'd do without you."

michael pulled you nearer, his arms tightening around you in a warm grasp. "don't worry about that. i'm never leaving, angel. you're stuck with me." he doesn't know what he'd do without you either.

you smiled quietly, running your fingers over & over his chest in gentle, soothing patterns. "good," you breathed. "i think i prefer to be stuck with you."

he leaned down, his lips brushing the top of your head as he sighed contentedly. “same here.”

you stayed like that for a while, just existing in the quiet, the soft rhythm of each other’s breathing the only sound that mattered. there was no rush. no pressure. just the warmth of his body, the comfort of his presence.

soon, michael moved a little, grabbing the blanket from the back of the couch & draping it over both of you. his hand migrated to your waist, & he pulled you in closer, as if too close did not exist when it came to the two of you.

"you know," he mused softly, now teasing, "you're the cuddling champ."

you smiled softly, rolling your eyes. "oh, really? is that so?"

"yeah," he said, his fingers running along your side in that special way that always made you shiver. "if i had a dollar for every time i thought about how perfect it feels when you're in my arms, i'd be rich." well, he already is. but you know what he means.

you smiled, your heart filling with love. "you're cheesy, you know that?"

"perhaps," he grinned, "but you adore it."

"perhaps i do," you confessed, the tension in your chest melting away now entirely. "just a little."

he leaned against you, the sly grin on his face as his lips whispered against yours in a soft kiss. "just a little?"

you smiled against his lips, the sense of his warmth spreading through you like the gentlest kind of comfort. "okay, perhaps a great deal."

"that's what i thought," he whispered, kissing you again, this time deeper, slower. like he was tasting the moment, like he was ensuring you both knew this was real, this was something you were going to cling to.

you smiled & leaned back a little, your forehead against his. "you know," you whispered, barely above a sound, "if i could spend every night like this, i'd be happy."

"me too," he said, his fingers running through your hair, drawing you back into his arms. "me too."

the gentle glow of the tv danced around the room, illuminating soft shadows on the couch where you & michael were snuggled together. all was calm, so calm that you nearly forgot the world existed outside of this moment. the soothing sound of his breathing & the rhythmic thump of his heartbeat against your ear made everything seem right.

until, of course, you heard the distant sound of footsteps from the hallway.

you blinked, the serene moment interrupted. michael must've heard it too because his body stiffened slightly, his hand reaching out to lightly rest on your back as he turned his head towards the door.

there was a gentle tap before the door groaned open, & there, in the doorway, was sloane. her dark eyes were opened wide in a mixture of sleep & curiosity, & she rubbed her eyes as if by accident.

you blinked in shock, but a gentle smile curled your mouth. "hey, sloane," you whispered, not wanting to disrupt the peaceful moment. "what's going on? why are you up so late?"

sloane shifted her weight, a faint flush rising to her cheeks. "i. um. i couldn't sleep. i was just. thinking about things," she stammered, her voice still heavy with sleep.

you raised an eyebrow, worry flashing in your chest. sloane wasn't typically one to struggle to sleep, & when she did, it was typically because something was wrong. you could tell she was holding something back, not wanting to confess why she was actually awake.

"sloane," you said quietly, your tone full of love, "you know you can tell me anything, don't you?"

she paused for a moment, but then nodded slowly, although she still did not look entirely at ease. "yeah. i just. i don't know. sometimes it's just hard to sleep."

you knew there was something more to it, but you didn't push her. instead, you shifted slightly on the couch & gestured to the space beside you. "come here, lovely. let's talk."

sloane didn't budge immediately, but after a moment, she crept over, crawling onto the couch next to you. you put an arm around her, drawing her into a hug. the hug was nearly motherly, & it came so instinctively to you that it was like second nature.

michael moved a bit, but he didn't look uncomfortable. he knew the relationship you had with sloane, just like he knew the relationship you shared with everyone at the house. you weren't just a friend to them▰you were like their secret garden, the one they could rely on.

"hey," you murmured softly to sloane, "you know you're not pestering me, right? if something's troubling you, tell me. we'll sort this out."

sloane let out a deep sigh & leaned against your shoulder, wrapped in your embrace. "i know. i just. i don't want to intrude on you & michael. you two look like you're snug as a pair of bugs.

you chuckled, gently stroking her hair. “don’t worry about us. you’re never a bother. but you should probably head back to your room, huh?”

sloane looked up at you with a small frown. “i don’t want to sleep alone.”

you smiled softly at that, the protective instinct inside of you flaring. “you’re not alone, sloane. you’ve got cassie, remember? she’s in the room with you.”

“yeah,” sloane muttered, “but she’s already asleep.”

you smiled softly & glanced at michael. he nodded slightly, understandingly, his hand on your back as if he were giving his silent approval to the moment. "how about this," you told sloane, "you go to your room, & i'll escort you there. if you're still upset, we can discuss it tomorrow, okay?"

sloane paused, but then nodded. "okay." she murmured.

you got up, still holding sloane gently by the shoulders, & began to lead her towards the door. when you reached it, you turned back to her. "sloane, it's all right to be vulnerable sometimes. you don't have to keep that from me. okay?"

sloane's face relaxed, & she smiled at you weakly. "yeah. i guess so."

you smiled back, hugging her quickly before she turned to go towards her room. "get some sleep, s," you whispered. "i'll check on you in a bit."

she nodded, a bit more at ease now as she headed toward her room. "goodnight, you two," she said softly, just before heading down the hall.

you faced back toward the couch, your heart feeling a bit lighter now that sloane was at least going back to her room. you headed back to michael, who had waited patiently for you to finish soothing her.

he looked at you as you came back to sit at his side, a warm smile on his face. "everything alright with her?”

"yeah, just. a bit disturbed," you told him, getting back into your seat beside him. "but she's going back to her room now."

michael nodded, his arm instinctively coming around you as you leaned back against him. the heat between the two of you still lingered, constant &,,, unchanging even after all that had occurred.

"you're good at this," he murmured, his lips feathering across the crown of your head in a gentle kiss. "good at taking care of everyone."

you smiled up at him, your heart filling with his words. "well, i am their emergency contact, so,, it's easy." you whispered. "but. it's not always easy, is it?"

he sighed, wrapping you closer so that you were snuggled under his arm. "no. it's not. but i'm glad you're here with me."

you curled into his chest, the beat of his heart calm you like a lullaby. "me too. i don't think i could do it without you."

there was silence for a moment, and then michael kissed your forehead, the touch so soft that you hardly felt it. but you did, and you dissolved into it, sensing the gentleness in the way he wrapped his arms around you.

"you're not doing it for them, though," he whispered, his voice low & seductive. "you're doing it for yourself too. & that's what makes you unique."

you gazed up at him, a gentle smile playing on your lips. "you're cheesy, you know that?"

"you adore it," he smiled, his fingers stroking along your jawline.

you smiled & drew him into a kiss, slow & deep. michael kissed you right back, his lips against yours like he couldn't get enough of you. the kiss was sweet at first, but then it deepened, becoming more desperate, more urgent. your hands wandered to his neck, your fingers tangling in his hair as you drew him in closer, desperate to feel the connection between you two, to drown out everything else in the world.

when you finally broke away, gasping, you gazed up at him, your vision misty with love.

"more?" he whispered, his voice a little hoarse.

you nodded, your forehead pressed against his. "always.

© MINORLYATFAULT 2025

drummer mattheo fingering reader after she said he was not good with his fingers

⋆˙⟡ drummer!mattheo shows you he’s good with his fingers

on a drummer!mattheo brainrot right now, and damn, he is so fucking good with his fingers

warnings: 18+ mdni, fingering, cursing, smoking, slight smoke exchange

⟡ navigation ; m.lists ; mattheo m.list ; drummer!mattheo

you didn’t know the exact intention behind you saying that. maybe you just wanted to rile mattheo up, maybe you thought his ego had been getting awfully huge lately and decided to bring it down a notch. in any case, you couldn’t complain now, spread out on the couch in his dressing room as his fingers pumped in and out of your dripping cunt.

"f-fuck, matty, s-so–"

you were cut off as his digits curled inside of you, pressing into your clenching walls, into that exact spot. although, to be fair, with mattheo every single spot was that spot – he was so damn good with his… everything, including his fucking fingers. his fucking drummer fingers, skilled to throw drumsticks around like it was nothing, and also skilled to make you a complete moaning and whimpering mess.

"so what, pretty girl?" he drawled, looking down at your flushed, sweaty face with quite a devilish smirk. he was sitting on the couch next to you, legs spread in a casual manner, betrayed only by the tent at the front of his sweatpants, where his rock-solid cock was throbbing with arousal. his demeanor was as nonchalant as ever, though – a cigarette dangling in his left hand as his right one fucked you into a frenzy.

"you were saying?" mattheo teasingly prompted, his movements slowing down a bit as he watched you trying to babble something incoherent. he took a drag of his cigarette, the smoke wafting from his mouth in your direction, very much on purpose. the bitter scent hit your nostrils, but in your current state, it didn’t seem as acrid as it usually did. and mattheo knew, watching with amusement as your lips parted, inhaling the bits of smoke that reached you.

"s-so good…" you somehow managed to whimper out, thighs clenching together as the pace of his fingers picked up again. it was impressive, really, how he still had this much strength in his arm even after a two-hour show. sweat glistened on his biceps and bare chest, nearly making you drool as you took in the sight of his slumped over form with your eyes half-closed.

"yeah? s-so good?" he parroted your mess of a sentence, raising an eyebrow, pretending to be surprised. "i don’t know, baby, i don’t believe you. didn’t you say, quote unquote, ‘you don’t know what to do with those fingers’?"

"’m sorry…" you mumbled, a high-pitched moan escaping as he scissored you open, pressing on multiple sweet spots at the same time. you couldn’t string words together anymore, and mattheo still smoked with a smirk on his face, as if he wasn’t cancelling all your brain functions using just the power of his hand.

"oh, you are, baby," he murmured as his fingers plunged even deeper, the sloppy sounds of your pussy making his cock throb harder. "i know you are. and you’re gonna prove it, yeah?”

you managed half a nod, your hands gripping the couch, making the old leather squeak under their grip.

"go on then. cum all over my fingers, pretty girl."

mattheo took another drag from the cigarette, the grey cloud swirling in waves around his smug face. his eyes darkened as he watched you lose yourself, the orgasm crashing over you in waves. as your legs trembled, nearly crumpling on the couch and mattheo’s lap, he pulled his fingers out, completely coated in your slickness. he licked it all off, moaning when the taste of you hit his tongue, mixing with the lingering bitterness of tobacco.

"oh, baby, we’re not done." he chuckled, noticing how the heaving of your chest was gradually slowing down, the high slowly clearing out from your mind. his hand moved to the front of his pants, firmly palming his straining cock. "i’m not too sure you’re sorry yet.”