KINKTOBER #2 THE HAUNTED MANOR / Theodore Nott

KINKTOBER #2– THE HAUNTED MANOR / theodore nott

october 3rd MDNI

theodore nott x fem reader

summary: you have some… interesting experiences with theo when you and your friends decide to spend the night in an old haunted manor

warnings: SMUT, toys (use of dildo and vibrator), bondage, humiliation, voyeurism, masturbation, unprotected piv— this is the nastiest smut ive ever written, read at your own risk <3)

words: 5.1k (important: if you want to skip to the smut, scroll until you see the 🌶️ emoji)

a/n: sorry this was posted so late :(

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The crisp October night wrapped itself around you like a cold embrace, the wind whispering through the overgrown vines that clung to the rusted iron gates before you. The abandoned manor loomed in the distance, a decaying relic of the past, its towering silhouette dominating the sprawling grounds.

"Are we seriously spending the night here?" Pansy's voice wavered between excitement and fear as she glanced at the foreboding mansion.

"Of course," Mattheo grinned, his usual cocky demeanor unfazed. "Nothing wrong with a little ghost hunting with friends."

Blaise snorted, smirking. "Yeah, unless we end up as ghosts ourselves."

"Relax, you nitwits. It's just an old house," Draco muttered, rolling his eyes as he pushed open the creaking iron gates.

You shivered, instinctively pulling your cloak tighter around your shoulders. "Theo, are you sure about this?" you asked softly, your gaze flickering to your boyfriend standing beside you. His sharp features were illuminated by the pale moonlight, his hair falling lazily over his eyes. He glanced at you, smirking as his hand slipped into yours, sending a wave of warmth through the chill.

"Don't tell me you're scared," he teased. "It's just an old house."

"You said it was haunted," you reminded him, trying and failing to keep the tremor out of your voice.

Theo's smirk widened. "Rumors. Superstitions. Nothing you need to worry about."

With a playful tug, he pulled you forward, leading you through the rusted gates that groaned ominously in the stillness. The gravel crunched beneath your feet as the two of you made your way toward the manor, its black silhouette growing more oppressive with every step. The air felt heavy—almost alive—with the weight of forgotten magic, or perhaps something far more sinister.

When you reached the massive oak doors, Theo paused, glancing at you over his shoulder with that same teasing grin. "Still want to go inside?"

Your heart hammered in your chest, the oppressive energy of the place thickening the air, but you wouldn't let him see your hesitation. You swallowed hard and nodded, determined not to back down now. Not in front of him.

"Good girl," he murmured, his voice laced with approval.

With a forceful push, the doors groaned open, revealing the dark, decaying entrance hall. The air inside was colder than outside, thick with dust and the scent of mildew. Torn tapestries lined the walls, forgotten remnants of a grandeur long faded.

You groaned, glancing around in disbelief. "Remind me again why I agreed to this?" you muttered, frustration mingling with your mounting anxiety.

Theo led you deeper into the manor, his steps confident as if he'd been here a thousand times. The others followed behind, their footsteps echoing through the grand, dilapidated space. Cobwebs hung from every corner like old lace, and the weight of the silence was almost suffocating. Theo turned to you, extending his hand once more.

"So," he said with a grin, "what do you think? Spooky enough for you? Let me know if you need someone to hold your hand."

You shot him a glare, though the knot in your stomach betrayed your bravado. Your fingers brushed lightly against his. "Shut up. I told you, I'm not scared," you grumbled, though the darkened hallways told a different story.

Your heart thudded in your chest, the mix of fear and his teasing making your pulse quicken. “But I won't lie, there is something about being here that makes my skin crawl," you admitted, barely above a whisper, as you unconsciously inched toward him.

His arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you slightly closer. "I thought you weren't scared," he teased again, though his voice was softer now, almost amused. "Maybe you need a big, strong man to keep you safe after all."

Rolling your eyes, you elbowed him lightly. "I said shut up."

His lips curled into a gleeful smile, clearly enjoying your unease. "Lucky for you, love, I'm here to save the day." With your hand firmly in his, he led you further into the manor, the old floorboards creaking beneath your every step.

The shadows deepened as you ventured further inside, their long, jagged shapes seeming to reach for you. Theo's grip tightened on your hand, offering silent reassurance as the cold stone walls closed in. "We should stick together anyway," he mused, his tone lighter now. "Safety in numbers, right?"

Eventually, the two of you found yourselves in a grand sitting room, the large windows covered with tattered, moth-eaten curtains. Faded portraits lined the walls, their painted eyes tracking your every movement with unnerving accuracy. A cold, dead fireplace loomed at the far end, its once-mighty hearth now filled with lifeless ashes.

"Cozy," Theo smirked, wandering over to a dusty bookshelf. He trailed a finger along the spines of the old books, eyeing them curiously. "I bet there's some fascinating reading material in here."

You snorted, rolling your eyes as you playfully nudged him. "Only you would think about books in a place like this, nerd."

Before he could reply, a loud thump echoed from upstairs, causing both of you to jump. Theo's eyes widened momentarily before he composed himself with a chuckle.

"Probably just the others... or maybe the ghosts," he joked, his hand resting protectively on the small of your back.

With a shared look, the two of you headed back to the foyer, where your friends were gathered, lounging on worn furniture and discussing their next move.

"Well, well, looks like our little explorers found nothing but dust and cobwebs," Lorenzo called from his spot on an aged velvet sofa, a grin plastered on his face. "I say that’s enough sightseeing for now. We’ve got a whole night ahead of us. How about we liven things up with a game of Truth or Dare?"

Theo rolled his eyes. "Truth or Dare? Seriously, Enzo? What are you, fourteen?"

Mattheo chuckled, shrugging. "What else are we gonna do in a place like this?"

"Fine, fine," Theo said, throwing up his hands. "But I’m only playing if there’s alcohol involved." He turned to you with a wicked grin. "Since my lovely girlfriend is feeling so bold tonight, why don't you start us off? Truth or dare?"

You met his gaze, unwilling to back down from the challenge. "Dare," you replied, lifting your chin defiantly. "I'm not afraid of a little challenge.”

A slow grin spread across Theo's face. "Alright, I dare you..." He paused dramatically, letting the tension build. " ...to kiss me. Right here, in front of everyone.”

The collective groan from your friends was almost comical. "That's hardly a dare," you scoffed. "I mean, you are my boyfriend."

"Maybe I just wanted an excuse to kiss you," Theo shot back with a cheeky grin.

You rolled your eyes, but your annoyance couldn't hide the small smile tugging at your lips. "You're such a show-off.”

Without further hesitation, you stepped forward and kissed him deeply, your fingers threading through his hair as your lips moved together. You blocked out the catcalls and whistles from your friends, focused only on the warmth of Theo's body pressed against yours. His hands roamed your back, pulling you closer, and for a moment, the eerie manor and all its dangers faded away.

As you broke apart, breathless, Theo smirked, his forehead resting against yours. "Much better than I expected," he murmured, his tone filled with playful pride.

You blushed, looking away. "Shut up. You got what you wanted."

Theo's low chuckle vibrated against your skin as he nuzzled into your cheek. "Oh, I did indeed," he purred, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. "Now, who's next?"

Lorenzo's mischievous grin widened as he turned toward Mattheo, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Truth or Dare, Riddle. You're up."

Mattheo leaned back, stretching lazily before his dark eyes flickered toward Lorenzo. "Dare, of course. Give me something good."

The game spiraled from there, the room filling with laughter and mock indignation as truth after truth was spilled, and dare after dare was accepted with varying degrees of bravado. Lorenzo had Blaise sprinting across the room in his underwear, Pansy revealing a rather scandalous secret about her latest fling, and Mattheo howling in laughter after being dared to serenade one of the portraits on the wall.

It wasn't long, however, before the attention returned to you, and the smirk on Lorenzo's face sent a chill crawling down your spine. His gaze lingered on you for a beat too long before he spoke.

"Y/N," Lorenzo began, the edges of his grin sharp. "I dare you to go up and explore the attic."

The room fell into a heavy silence, all eyes suddenly on you. Your heart clenched, beating too fast as you turned to look at the darkened staircase leading up to the second floor. The attic? You had barely been able to stomach walking through the front doors, let alone venturing into the bowels of the ancient manor—alone.

"Go to the attic... alone?" you repeated, your voice sounding far smaller than you'd intended. The shadows seemed to press closer, thickening the air.

Theo's fingers tightened around your waist, his familiar warmth grounding you for just a moment. You could feel his smirk without needing to look. He loved this, loved teasing you, loved pushing you to your limits just to see how far you'd go. And you hated that it worked every single time.

"Too much for you, love?" he whispered, his breath hot against your neck. "Because I can always come with you." His voice dropped lower, becoming a rumbling hum that sent a shiver racing down your spine. "Just imagine—us, together, in the dark... how thrilling that could be."

Your mouth went dry as his words sent your imagination spinning. You could feel the others watching, waiting for your response, but all you could focus on was the heat of Theo's body against yours and the way his fingers trailed possessively down your arm.

Theo's grin widened as he nipped at your earlobe, voice dark with amusement. "What do you say, Y/N? Want me to hold your hand?"

You huffed, pushing away the growing tension. "Shut up," you muttered again, glaring at him in mock irritation, though the playful twinkle in your eyes betrayed the act.

His hand slid from your waist to your lower back, and he leaned closer, whispering, "If you're too scared to go, just say the word. No shame in admitting it."

Your breath caught as his words lingered between you, a challenge wrapped in seduction. You squared your shoulders, unwilling to let him win. You'd spent far too long playing this game with Theodore Nott, and you weren't about to back down now.

"Fine," you said, louder this time as you stepped away from him, brushing his hands off with a deliberate flourish. "But I'm not going alone." You shot him a pointed look. "You're coming with me."

Theo's smirk softened, the gleam of triumph in his eyes unmistakable. "Of course I am," he murmured.

Lorenzo groaned dramatically from his spot on the couch. "Oh, come on, that's cheating! She's supposed to go by herself."

Mattheo chuckled from the other side of the room, shaking his head. "Let them have their fun. At least one of us might get something out of this trip to hell."

Ignoring the banter, Theo wrapped an arm around your shoulders and steered you toward the staircase. The creaking of the old wood echoed through the hall as you ascended, each step a reminder of the isolation waiting above. The air grew colder, thicker, the musty scent of forgotten years clinging to every surface. The hallway stretched out before you, dimly lit by the moonlight filtering through the cracked windows.

Theo's grip on you tightened as you reached the attic door, its old wooden frame warped and splintered with age. He paused, his hand on the doorknob, glancing at you with a raised brow. "Ready for this, love?" His voice was soft, teasing, but there was something darker flickering in his gaze, something that made your stomach flip in anticipation.

You hesitated, the weight of the dare pressing down on you like the air in the old manor, thick and suffocating. But with Theo by your side, that familiar heat spreading through your veins, you nodded. "Yeah."

With a smirk, Theo twisted the knob and pushed the door open with a loud creak.

The attic yawned before you—dark, dust-choked, and thick with an eerie stillness that made your skin prickle. Cobwebs clung to the rafters, and the only sound was the faint rustle of wind outside, whispering through the cracks in the walls.

You took a tentative step inside, the floorboards groaning beneath your weight. Theo was right behind you, his presence a steadying force as you ventured further into the darkness. Your heartbeat thudded in your ears, each step sending a pulse of adrenaline through your veins.

There was a four-poster bed lying in the middle of the attic, as if the people who lived here all those years ago had used it as a bedroom.

Theo, ever the opportunist, moved closer, running a finger along the edge of the mattress.

smut starts around here 🌶️

"This place really does have a certain charm, doesn't it?" He turned to you, a wicked glint in his eye. "Almost romantic, don't you think?"

Before you could respond, he pulled you onto the bed beside him, the springs creaking under your combined weight. His arms snaked around your waist, pulling you close as he nuzzled your neck.

“Romantic? That’s funny. You’re too horny for your own good, Theodore Nott.”

A low chuckle rumbled in his chest as he leaned in, lips grazing your ear. "Guilty as charged, love. But what can I say? You bring out the worst in me."

His hands roamed your body, tracing the curves of your hips, slipping under your shirt to tease the sensitive skin of your lower back. His touch ignited sparks across your flesh, and you found yourself arching into him, craving more.

With a deft tug, he pulled your shirt off over your head, tossing it carelessly aside. His gaze raked over your exposed torso, lingering on the swell of your breasts tucked away beneath your bra before meeting your eyes with a smoldering intensity. "Beautiful," he breathed, voice husky with desire. "Absolutely stunning."

He pulled back for a moment, swiftly running a hand over his face. “I actually, um… found some pretty interesting things of yours the other day. In your dorm.”

Your eyes narrowed, cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and indignation. “What are you talking about?" you demanded, trying to keep your tone steady despite the sudden rush of heat coursing through your veins at the thought of Theo rummaging through your belongings.

Theo's smile widened, an amused glint dancing in his eyes as he reached into his messenger bag. He pulled out a small pink vibrator, waving it tauntingly before setting it on the bedside table. "This little number, for instance," he purred, leaning in closer, his breath hot against your ear. "I must say, it looks quite impressive."

Next, he produced a purple silicone dildo, holding it aloft like a trophy. "And then there's this... rather large toy you've got stashed away. Quite the collection you've got going on here, love." His gaze flicked back to your face, drinking in your reaction with a knowing smirk.

"How do these magic tricks work, hmm? Do they come with instructions, or are you an expert in carnal delights already?"

You felt your face flush even hotter at the sight of your most intimate belongings being waved around so casually. A surge of anger mixed with humiliation threatened to overwhelm you, but you forced yourself to maintain a facade of nonchalance.

"When did you even find those?” you murmured embarrassedly.

Theo's smirk deepened as he watched the play of emotions across your face—the blush staining your cheeks, the tension in your jaw, the defiant spark in your eyes. It was a delicious combination, one that stirred his blood and set his nerve endings alight with anticipation.

"Last week, when I stayed over at your dorm," he replied casually, as if discussing the weather. "I was looking for some cigs in your nightstand drawer while you were in the shower and well..." He shrugged, a picture of feigned innocence. "They just sort of jumped out at me.”

He traced a finger along the length of the dildo, humming thoughtfully before he moved closer, his fingers trailing up your thigh as he sat on the edge of the bed beside you. "Quite the naughty girl, aren't you, love?" He leaned in, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, tongue delving deep to claim every inch of your mouth.

As he kissed you deeply, Theo's hand slid higher, fingers brushing the waistline of your jeans, unbuttoning them before dipping underneath to caress the smooth skin of your inner thigh. His touch was electric, sending shivers racing up your spine as he teased the sensitive flesh mere inches from your core.

"So, tell me, baby," he murmured against your lips, breaking the kiss to trail his mouth along your jawline, nipping at the tender skin beneath your ear. "You prefer this—" He held up the dildo, wiggling it suggestively, “—fake cock when you have the real thing right here, always ready and willing?"

His fingers continued their maddening exploration, inching closer to the heat of your center with each passing second. His thumb rubbed against your clit through the thin barrier of your underwear, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core. You bit your lip, trying to stifle a moan as he continued to tease you.

"I mean, they're cute and all, but nothing compares to the feel of my cock buried deep inside you, does it?" He leaned in, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered. He gestured to himself, his meaning clear. One hand drifted down to palm the bulge straining against his trousers, a silent invitation, a promise of pleasure.

"Is my girl really that impatient, hm?" he mused, a teasing lilt to his voice. "That she can't just wait for her boyfriend to come and fuck her senseless whenever she needs it?"

His fingers slipped beneath the waistline of your pants once again, teasing along the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. Your breathing hitched as his touch grew bolder, fingertips brushing against your clothed sex with feather-light strokes. The ache between your legs intensified, your panties dampening with each passing second.

He chuckled darkly, the sound vibrating through you like a physical caress. "Using these cheap substitutes instead of demanding what she really wants. Why don’t you give me a little demonstration?"

His hand cupped your mound possessively, applying pressure that made you squirm.

You gasped sharply as Theo's fingers pressed against your aching sex, the contact sending shivers racing down your spine. Your hips bucked involuntarily, seeking more friction, more relief from the throbbing need building within you.

“It’s not like that…” you mumbled. “Just… please…”

"Please what?" Theo arched a brow, a mocking tilt to his lips. "You think you deserve real dick right now after keeping secrets from me? After using toys behind my back like some desperate slut?"

He withdrew his hand abruptly, leaving you aching and empty. Rising from the bed, he stepped back, folding his arms across his chest as he leveled you with a stern look. "Strip. Now. Let's see how much of a show you can put on for me."

Theo's gaze raked over your body, his eyes lingering on the swell of your breasts, the curve of your hips. He licked his lips slowly, deliberately, a predatory gleam in his eye. "Come on, baby. Don’t get shy now. Show me what you've been hiding."

You kicked off your shoes, and as you unclasped your bra, he drank in the sight of your full breasts, nipples pebbling under his heated gaze. Lower still, past the dip of your waist and flare of your hips, until your jeans pooled at your feet, leaving you clad in only a scrap of lace.

“Fuck, look at you," he growled appreciatively, palming the growing hardness in his trousers. "Such a pretty little thing, aren't you? All mine to play with."

He relaxed back on a nearby armchair. "Now then, why don't you show me exactly what these toys of yours can do?"

Theo lounged back in the chair, his eyes never leaving you as you stood there trembling, exposed and vulnerable. A wicked grin spread across his face as he watched you with hooded eyes. “Go on then, sweetheart. Show me how you like to be fucked. Pretend I'm not even here."

As you grasped the dildo, he panted softly, drinking in the sight of your hand wrapped around the smooth plastic. He reached down to adjust his bulge, the fabric of his pants bunching obscenely as he watched you remove your panties.

You leaned back, spreading your legs wide in a lewd display, but you didn’t know what to do with the toy in your hand. Not when he was right in front of you.

A cruel smile played about his lips as he saw the hesitation in your eyes, the reluctance in your movements. "What's wrong, love? Suddenly shy? You weren't shy when you were fucking yourself silly with these, were you?"

With trembling hands, you brought the toy to your lips, flicking your tongue out, tracing the contours, coating it in saliva. Then, you trailed it lower, over your collarbone, between the valley of your breasts. You circled a nipple with the toy's tip, gasping at the sensation.

"There we go. Now, move it down and start rubbing it against your clit. Nice and slow. I want to see you squirm."

He reclined further into the chair, making no move to join you, simply observing your every move with an air of dark amusement.

You whimpered, feeling exposed and humiliated as you followed Theo's instructions. Your cheeks burned with shame as you brought the dildo to your aching sex, rubbing the slick head against your swollen clit.

You bit your lip hard enough to taste blood, fighting back tears of mortification. But beneath the embarrassment, a spark of arousal ignited, fueled by the knowledge that he was watching you so intently.

Your hips began to rock instinctively, the toy gliding through your wet folds, stroking places that made you shudder and moan quietly. You couldn't meet his gaze, too ashamed to see the smug satisfaction in his eyes.

"That’s my girl… Now, put it inside you where it belongs. Fill up that greedy little cunt.”

With a shaky breath, you aligned the dildo with your entrance, pushing it in gradually. Your walls clenched around the intrusion, and you cried out at the feeling. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you forced yourself to relax, letting the toy sink deeper.

"Fuck, look at you taking it like a good little slut," Theo drawled, leaning forward in his chair to get a better view. He reached down to stroke himself lazily, his thumb rubbing circles over the straining bulge in his trousers.

Reaching for the smaller vibrator on the bed beside you, he tossed it onto the sheets. "Pick it up. I want to hear you scream as you cum all over both of them. Show me how well you can multitask."

Your hands shook as you fumbled for the small device, turning it on with a buzzing whine. You positioned it against your clit, the vibrations sending jolts of pleasure through your core. Your hips rolled faster, the dildo thrusting in and out of your stretched hole in rhythm with the toy's relentless stimulation.

“Come on. Make yourself cum while I watch you rut on that toy like a bitch in heat. I want to hear you moaning like the desperate whore you are.”

Theo's eyes gleamed with sadistic glee as he watched you writhe in ecstasy, your moans echoing off the walls. The obscene sounds of your self-pleasure filled the room, mingling with the creaks of the bed and the soft buzzing of the vibrator.

"That's it, baby. Fuck yourself senseless. Show me just how depraved you can be when you're alone with your filthy toys," he sneered, stroking himself harder through his trousers.

As the pleasure built to a fever pitch, your inner muscles clamped down on the dildo, milking it for all it was worth. With a keening wail, you came undone, your whole body shaking as wave after wave of intense orgasm crashed over you.

"You're so beautiful when you lose control like that," Theo purred.

He sat up straighter in his chair, his eyes burning with a dark hunger as he watched you collapse back onto the bed, spent and panting. "Look at you, covered in sweat and cum... Such a lovely mess."

He rose slowly, unbuckling his belt and freeing his aching cock. It sprang forth, thick and pulsing, already leaking precum. With a wicked grin, he climbed onto the bed, positioning himself between your splayed thighs.

Theo grabbed your wrists roughly, pulling them above your head and securing them to the headboard with silky ropes. He repeated the process with your ankles, spreading your legs obscenely wide and tying them to the footposts.

"Just relax, love. This won't hurt a bit," he murmured, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he bound your wrists above your head to the headboard.

Once you were completely immobilized, he stepped back to admire his work, licking his lips as he drank in the sight of your helpless, exposed body.

"I think it's time I took my turn playing with you," he rasped, trailing a finger along your slick slit. "Open up for me, sweetheart. Let me fill this greedy cunt with something real."

Theo's fingers probed your dripping entrance, circling the rim before pushing inside. He groaned low in his throat at the feel of your velvety walls clenching around him. "Fuck, you're still so tight... Even after all that."

He worked two fingers deep, pumping them slowly as he watched your face contort with pleasure. His thumb found your sensitive clit, rubbing firm circles over the bud. "I bet you'd love to have my cock instead, wouldn't you? To feel me splitting you open, filling you up until you can't take anymore?"

His voice dropped to a husky whisper. "Tell me you need it. Beg me to fuck you raw."

Your chest heaved with ragged breaths, your body trembling from the aftershocks of your intense climax. As Theo's fingers delved into your sensitive flesh, you bit your lip hard, trying to stifle the moans that threatened to spill free.

His words sent a shiver down your spine, the image of him replacing those fingers with his thick, throbbing cock making your pussy clench hungrily. You wanted it, craved the sensation of being stretched and filled beyond capacity.

"Yes," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart. "Please, I need it. I need you inside me."

Theo smirked as he heard your breathy pleas, his ego swelling at the power he held over you. “Such a dirty, needy girl for me, aren’t you?”

With a growl of triumph, he lined himself up, the blunt head of his member nudging insistently at your entrance. In one swift motion, he hilted himself inside you, stretching you deliciously around his thick girth.

"Fuck!" he snarled, pulling nearly all the way out before slamming back in. The bed frame rattled with each powerful thrust, the obscene sound of flesh smacking against flesh filling the room. Theo set a brutal pace, pounding into you with single-minded focus, determined to make you scream.

Theo's hand shot down beside your body, grasping the vibrator. He turned it up to its highest setting, the intense vibrations making your entire pelvis quiver.

"This should really get you going, doesn't it?" he sneered, grinding the toy against your clit with each punishing thrust. "Feeling my cock splitting you open while this thing eats at your poor little pussy..."

His words were punctuated by the lewd slap of skin on skin as he continued to rail into you, his heavy balls slapping against your ass with each brutal stroke. The dual sensations of the vibrator and his cock driving into you relentlessly pushed you closer and closer to the edge.

Your body jerked violently as the vibrator hit full force, the intense vibrations making your clit throb in time with Theo's merciless thrusts. The restraints held you in place, forcing you to submit to every punishing stroke, every deep, grinding push against your cervix.

Pleasure and pain blurred together, the overwhelming sensations threatening to short-circuit your mind. Tears streamed down your face, your vision blurring at the edges as you teetered on the brink of another explosive orgasm.

Your toes curled, your back arching as much as the bonds would allow, trying to take him even deeper.

You cried out, writhing around, the restraints holding you back as he used you mercilessly, tears pricking your eyes. His free hand grabbed at your tits, roughly squeezing them as his thumb flicked over your nipple.

"Don't hold back now, cum for me, pretty girl," Theo commanded, his own climax rapidly approaching.

Theo felt your walls spasming wildly around him, signaling your impending orgasm. He redoubled his efforts, pistoning into you with ruthless intensity as the vibrator buzzed against your clit.

"That's it, baby, make a mess for me,” he muttered, his own release coiling tightly in his abdomen.

Your cry of ecstasy echoed through the room as you shattered, convulsing beneath him in the throes of an intense climax. Theo rode out your waves of pleasure, prolonging your orgasm with deliberate thrusts.

Just as he was about to crest the peak himself, he abruptly pulled out, leaving you empty and aching. With a few quick strokes, he spilled his seed across your stomach and chest, painting you in his essence.

Theo collapsed beside you on the bed, chest heaving as he caught his breath. After a moment, he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you against his side.

"I love you, baby.” He pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, his touch soothing as he wiped a strand of sweat-dampened hair from your face. “Let’s clean you up.” And with a flick of his wand, the white fluids covering you were gone.

“Our friends probably think we’re dead by now, you know. We’ve been up here for so long,” you murmured.

“Darling, I’m pretty sure they’re smart enough to know that the screaming coming from up here wasn’t because of ghosts.”

kinktober taglist: @mattheoriddles-slutt @theeslutintheroom @esmerai-artemis @gigival @cloudyyydayzzz @sn000py @abeoavita @yesiamthatwierd @shaquilles-0atmeal @roseofsharron438 @iouinotes @romantasyreader28 @c3liaaaaa @daenerystorgayren @emma-grace0 @tori-303 @ilovehpb0ys

𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐊𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

Oneshot | Theodore Nott | 🤺⚔️₊˚⊹♡| | Masterlist | Taglist | requests are open

SUMMARY: Theo Nott surprises Y/N with a charming introduction as her "white knight," even though they’ve known each other for years. A flirtatious exchange ensues, complete with a hand-kiss and a few Italian words that leave Y/N unexpectedly flustered.

AUTHORS NOTE: Inspired by an Edit of Seth Cohen lol

The music was loud, the room buzzing with laughter and chatter as students from all houses gathered for a party in the Slytherin common room.

Y/N stood near the fireplace, her smile bright as she joked with her friends. Across the room, Theo Nott watched her, his heart pounding harder than it should have. He'd always admired Y/N from a distance. She had this effortless charm, a way of lighting up any room she entered. But he'd never quite managed to say more than a few words to her. Not because he didn't want to, but because… well, he was Theo Nott, and small talk wasn't exactly his forte.

He took a sip from his drink, trying to muster up the courage. Tonight might be his chance.

Y/N’s laugh echoed through the room, pulling his attention back to her. She was mid-conversation with a group of her friends when she said, with a playful smirk, "Honestly, everyone needs a white knight sometimes, don't you think?"

Theo felt a smile tug at his lips. Without overthinking, he straightened up, fixing the sleeves of his shirt as he made his way over to her. His heart raced, but there was a surge of confidence coursing through him. Maybe it was the energy of the night, or maybe it was just… her.

Y/N noticed him approach, her head tilting slightly in curiosity as he stopped right in front of her. The group of friends fell quiet, intrigued by the sudden interaction. Theo met Y/N’s gaze and, with a soft smirk, offered his hand. “Theo Nott,” he said, his voice smooth but with a hint of teasing. “White knight, at your service.”

Y/N blinked in surprise, a playful smile spreading across her lips as she looked at his outstretched hand. Y/N raised an eyebrow but placing her hand in his anyway. “Nice to meet you, Theo Nott, white knight. even though, we've only been going to Hogwarts together for, what, six years now?”

He didn’t miss a beat. Instead of shaking her hand, he leaned down, brushing his lips lightly against her knuckles. His gaze never left hers as he straightened up, still holding her hand gently in his. “Piacere di conoscerti, bella,” he said softly in Italian, his voice low and warm, the words rolling off his tongue effortlessly.

Y/N’s cheeks flushed, the unexpected flirtation catching her off guard. “What did you just say?” she asked, her curiosity piqued by the unfamiliar language.

Theo’s smirk deepened, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “It means, ‘A pleasure to meet you, beautiful.’”

Her friends let out a series of “Oohs,” making her laugh despite the way her heart fluttered at his words. She couldn’t help but smile back at him, shaking her head in disbelief. “Smooth, Theo. Very smooth.”

Theo grinned, still holding her hand. “I’m just stating the truth,” he said softly, his eyes locking with hers in a way that made her stomach flip.

For a moment, the noise of the party seemed to fade away, and it was just the two of them standing there, hands intertwined. Y/N felt a warmth spread through her, something new and unexpected as she realized maybe, just maybe, Theo Nott wasn’t as quiet and mysterious as she’d always thought. There was something deeper there, something that made her want to know more.

“Well,” she said, her voice a bit softer now, “I suppose every white knight needs a damsel in distress, right?”

Theo’s smirk turned into a full smile, his thumb gently brushing over her knuckles. “I'll be there if you need me bella.”

Sleeping after an argument

mattheo riddle x reader

Summary : you decided not to sleep with him after an argument

In the dimness of his room, you sit on the edge of the bed, your heart heavy with frustration. The walls echo with the reverberations of an seemingly endless argument. He stands, a sharp gaze in his eyes, his poisoned words filling the air.

"Why are you always like this?" you ask, trying to contain your own anger. "Your attitude is toxic, Mattheo. It can't go on like this."

He sneers, an ironic smile distorting his face. "Oh, now it's my fault? You're always the victim, aren't you?"

You take a deep breath, trying to calm the flames of anger rising within you. "It's not about being a victim. It's about mutual respect. You can't keep acting this way."

Mattheo approaches, his presence oppressive. "Mutual respect? Funny coming from you. You just criticize me, judge me."

"Because you act disrespectfully! You constantly attack me, and I can't take it anymore."

He shrugs, disdainful. "If you can't take it, leave. No one is forcing you to stay."

The tension reaches its peak. You stand up, facing Mattheo with determination. "Maybe that's what I should do."

The words hang in the air, heavy with consequences. The room is filled with the silence that follows an argument, and you wonder if this confrontation marks the end of something, or perhaps the beginning of a new dynamic.

Frustrated by the atmosphere, Mattheo abruptly stands up and heads to the bathroom, using the excuse of needing to prepare in there to escape the confrontation. You remain in the room, Mattheo's dark look still echoing in the air. The decision not to spend the night in this toxic atmosphere takes hold in you, and you head to the bathroom as well.

Reflecting in the bathroom, you decide to leave the unresolved argument behind and choose not to sleep that night. The idea of returning to your shared room with Pansy becomes a tempting refuge. Exiting the bathroom, you silently slip through the hallway, deliberately avoiding Mattheo's room.

Meanwhile, Mattheo, after anxiously waiting in the bathroom for some time, starts to worry about your absence. Concerned, he knocks on the door, softly calling, "My love, are you okay?" Faced with your silence, he eventually opens the door, discovering that you're no longer there. Regret fills him as he realizes the impact of his behavior.

Determined to find you, Mattheo heads towards the girls' dormitory, disregarding any rules of decency. His only thought is to bring you back to him, suddenly realizing how crucial your presence is to him.

Upon opening the door to your room, he notices Pansy's absence, but you're there, asleep in your bed, hugging a pillow that was supposed to replace him for the night. Mattheo gently removes the pillow from your arms, slipping into its place. He embraces you tenderly, whispering an "I love you" in your ear, realizing the foolishness of the argument. He holds you tightly, hoping that you'll find it in yourself to forgive him despite the hurtful words he uttered.

Hidden strengths

Feeling hurt after being called weak, you make it your mission to prove them wrong only to get hurt in the process. Mattheo luckily knows just how to comfort you and squash the insecurity once and for all. Find the request here! @slytherinslut0 hope you enjoy it pookie! <3 Again seem to kind be incapable of writing something short for requests, enjoy a little angst but mostly fluff in 1.8k. There is a few instances of y/n.

“Please, Y/n has the strength of an ant she’d lose in a fight against a bow truckle.” A chorus of hysterical laughs fill the corner occupied by a bunch of Slytherin males. “My moneys on the twig!” Someone else pipes up, adding their two cents, earning another round of snickers, the sound stinging your heart. 

Weak. Fragile. Frail. The hurtful jabs aimed at your lack of strength, impairs deeply, wrecking your heart like a broken ship. Your absence of physical strength had always bothered you, a scared insecurity that was rooted deep in the family. Both your mother and hers were women of weaker stature, not one for sports lacking the coordination and stamina to keep interest in one. 

The comments had irritated you more than you were proud of, spreading through your mind like a disease for the rest of the day. They festered, growing like a tumor, reaching a point where you felt aggressively determined to prove you were strong, to them or at least yourself. You gathered a list of activities you could take part in to show your strength, which became easily discarded when the most brilliant idea sparked you. 

Who's tougher than a beater? The violent position on the Quidditch team whose job was to defend players from the nasty, powerful and wildly reckless bludgers. Using strength to direct with a blast of force towards the opposition, and there was only one person you wanted to approach. 

Mattheo was easy to spot, his broad shoulders slouched slightly in his meander down the hall, hands shoved in his pockets, his face resonating deep in thought. Making a beeline to catch up to him, your walk turns into a brisk run with determined energy, and you move around in front of him, alerting him of your presence. His eyes flicker up at the sudden obstacle in his path, his eyes lighting up at your company. 

“Mattheo, I need you to teach me to hit a bludger.” The words spit out straight to the point, before he can even greet you, your eyes flickering eagerly watching for his reaction. 

His casual expression contorts with a wrinkle of his brows and he takes in your request, adjusting the way his bag sits on his shoulder. “Ah what?”

“I said I need-”

“I heard what you said.” He raises a hand, interjecting the repetition while he looks you over, expecting to be revealed that you’re pulling his leg. But all he’s met with is an adorable but driven look that has his brows arching in curiosity and intrigue. “What..like right now?” 

You nod. 

He huffs out a quiet laugh and runs a hand through his hair in thought. “Alright, come on then.”

He doesn’t bother asking you why the sudden interest in the violent sport, observing how your usual carefree manner is replaced by a look of utter determination. He makes small talk, an edge of excitement slipping out, happy to just be spending time with you and discussing the intricacies of being a beater. He explains how a bludger works, saving time so the two of you can jump straight into the goal at hand. 

“Clearly you need a level of strength to strike a bludger with coordination, hence why I'm a clear candidate.” He jokes flexing a muscle, enjoying how your focus gets distracted and lingers on his biceps, constricting against his shirt. “But it also takes fast reflexes, a keen eye, and you need a good sense of balance.” His eyes flicker down to you, making sure you’re back to paying attention to the importance of his words. He gives a smile when you nod in understanding. 

Once on the pitch, he discards his bag and grabs the case, withholding the Quidditch balls carrying it with ease a few meters into the middle of the field. He crouches, lifting the box up, grabbing out two bats, handing you one while placing his one on the ground. The reality of what is about to happen tickles his conscience and a moment of doubt flickers, he doesn’t want you to get hurt.

“Are you sure about this?” He asks his voice held with concern questioning, still crouched down in front of the box.

You nod firmly, needing him to get on with it and release the bludger already before you chicken out. “Yeah, do it.”

He finds your determined tone adorable and a hint of pride flushes in him as he nods, flicking the latch and releasing it from its case. He stands moving back quickly as the sound of a low pitched buzzing whirls by him; the bludger flying out of its hold and up into the air. He grasps a bat and pushes gently on your arm to keep you at a safe distance while he prepares to explain the technique.

“Right, so it’s coming back now. Make sure you grip the bat firmly and prepare to swing at the last second.” His voice drops off as the bludger locks targeting on you and Mattheo, and he propels his arm forward with a force that echoes a loud whack across the field at first contact.   

He grins, watching how the bludger accelerators away, loving the adrenaline the violent sport brings him. “Alright alright, it’s coming back. You think you’re ready?” He’s speaking quickly but clearly, needing confirmation you're prepared as well as himself to remain focused in case he has to jump in.

Watching how easily Mattheo could bat the bludger away has you gripping the bat harder in anxiety, questioning your ability in yourself, realizing you may be a way in over your head. But you’re still determined, driven by the need to prove yourself. Nodding you replicate the positioning Mattheo had shown, sweaty hands grip the bat and your eyes stay trained on the rapid blasting bludger that's now redirected back towards the ground.

With a desired concentration, you swing with two hands and all your might at the whizzing bludger; the bat connecting, smashing it high away from the two of you. Mattheo’s yell of excitement regains your focus, “Atta girl!!” 

The look of pure pride illuminates his face with a shit-eating grin that sends a flurry of vibrating flutters to your chest. The satisfaction that ruptures through you makes you drop the bat in overjoyed enthusiasm, becoming giddy that you had done it. 

He watches the pure delight overtaking your body and distracts him from the shooting bludger boomeranging back. The powerful iron ball whirls at light speed and crashes, colliding hard against your arm. There's a loud snap and you wail upon impact. Mattheo’s eyes widen at your cry of pain and he seizes his wand quickly. “Immobulus!” 

The bludger falls to the ground with a thud and he moves towards you, panicked, “Shit. Shit, shit c’mere.” He’s cursing himself with guilt for being distracted by your cute reaction, now crouching down beside you, assessing your limp arm. “Fuck, that’s definitely broken. Come on, we gotta get you to the infirmary.” Your earlier triumph is washed away with the continued tears that spill, Mattheo’s arm around your waist hurriedly helping walk you to the medical wing. 

After the small fussing from Poppy skeptically scrutinising Mattheo as he defensively explains it was a bludger that injured you and not himself. She relaxes, muttering a small note of approval that he brought you straight here, wisely aware that he deals with his own injuries alone. 

Skillfully, she casts Brackium Emendo, a healing incantation that, if done incorrectly, can cause the backfiring of removing bones. She instructs you to wait the mandatory twenty minutes before you can be dismissed. Mattheo’s frantic, guilt-ridden apologies fill time up till you’re able to shut him up with forgiveness, and the space falls quiet between you two. 

“So, you gonna tell me what this is really about, then?” Mattheo speaks again, addressing the elephant, sensing your sudden shame and defeat. He’s feeling grateful that you’re all fixed up and you’ve stopped crying, though his heart aches in guilt for his getting you hurt.

Sighing with embarrassment, your head drops mumbling, “I wanted to be strong for a day.” The insecurity stays planted despite having actually achieved your goal. Though you no longer felt proud, it had taken all your might and in the end you had still got hurt and cried, and it had made you feel weaker.

Mattheo barely catches your words and pulls in a face of confusion. “Strong?” It's clear he doesn’t understand your predicament. You may not have been physically the strongest person he knew, but you were strong to him in many other ways. “What's going on? Y/n.” He reaches out to comfort you, angling your chin up to meet his eye. 

“I’m sick of being weak. I overheard people making jokes about how fragile I am.” Your voice is strained trying to keep your tears back as you admit the truth to Mattheo. His brown eyes display a hue of warmth that encourages you. 

His expression turns sour at your words. “Who the fuck said that?” His grip on your chin tightens. “Cuz it's bullshit y/n. You’re immensely strong.” 

You pull your face away from his grip, not believing him. “You’re lying.” 

He moves his body around the bed, positioning his face so you can’t ignore him, speaking with a softer tone. “Hey hey, I'm not. Not all strength is physical. Have you seen your brain, the shit you come up with for assignments? You’re determined as hell. Look at you today! You handle that with resilience, took on the challenge, and you succeeded”

He reaches out and grabs your hand this time, startling you by the confident comfort. He can feel his heart racing as he keeps talking. “I was so proud, you smashed that bludger.” He watches a smile creep on your face and he mirrors it. “And I know right at your heart, it's as strong as a deeply rooted tree. Even if you get knocked down, you’ll always regrow and build yourself up even stronger.” He squeezes your hand. “It's one of the reasons I like you.”

Your head snaps up, comprehending his admission. “You like me?” 

Mattheo stands up and makes himself comfortable on the bed beside you, “course I do, and your lack of physical strength has never bothered me. I like all the qualities you already have.” 

Your heart swells, the insecurity shrinking smaller to the size of a speck under the weight of Mattheo’s comfort and care. With quick thinking you launch forwards, squeezing him into a tight hug enthralling a hearty chuckle from himself. He reciprocates, throwing his arm over your shoulder and snuggling you tightly into his side, “does- uh this mean you like me too?” There's a hint of nervousness in his tone, a creeping fear you don't feel the same. 

A shit-eating grin of your own appears, lighting up your face as you nod. “Yeah yeah I do.” Snuggling into his side at the reality of what's occurred, and how a simple mistake has led to something wonderful. 

“Oh thank fuck..” He lets out a sigh of relief, his hand caressing your arm in gentle motions. “I'm so glad, and I don't want you getting hurt again...So maybe just stay in the quidditch stands from now on though, yeah.” 

Pizza's Deliveries | Pizza's 1k | General Masterlist

𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐌𝐞, 𝐌𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞?

fluff |Mattheo Riddle | 💙🫂🦋❄️| Masterlist | Taglist | requests are open

SUMMARY: Y/N decides to test Mattheo Riddle's dedication during Quidditch practice by calling him, expecting to leave a voicemail. To her surprise, he answers on the first ring, pausing his training just to talk to her, proving that for him, she always comes first.

AUTHORS NOTE: Based on a scene in Red my lips by Lila Herron

The sun was beginning to set, casting a warm glow over the Hogwarts Quidditch pitch as Y/N sat by the lake, her fingers idly playing with her phone. Tom’s words from earlier echoed in her mind.

"Mattheo won’t answer if he’s at Quidditch training," he had told her with certainty. "His phone will be in his locker or shoved into his bag, and believe me, he won’t hear it until hours later."

Y/N knew that Mattheo was passionate about Quidditch; it was one of the things that made him so captivating to watch.

But today, something in her wanted to test it. She wasn’t even sure why she reached for her phone.

Maybe it was to prove Tom right, or maybe she just missed hearing Mattheo’s voice. Either way, she opened her contacts, scrolled down to his name, and pressed the call button.

She expected it to ring, maybe even go to voicemail. She was ready to hear that automated message and laugh to herself about how silly she was for interrupting him.

But the phone rang just once before she heard the line click open.

"Hello?" came the deep, unmistakable voice on the other end. The familiar sound of wind rushing past broomsticks and distant cheers filled the background.

Y/N’s breath caught in surprise. "Mattheo?"

"I like seeing your name show up on my phone," he replied smoothly, his voice low and warm despite the noise around him. It was like the world had stopped for him, even though she could hear the chaos of training in the background.

Y/N blinked, glancing down at the time on her phone. "Wait… aren’t you at Quidditch practice?"

There was a slight pause, then a soft chuckle. "I am."

As if to prove his point, she heard the distinct whoosh of someone flying by on their broomstick, followed by a distant shout. It sounded like Theo Nott.

Y/N shook her head in disbelief, leaning back on the grass. "Wait, did you actually pause training just to answer my call?"

Mattheo’s laughter echoed through the phone, and she could imagine the smirk that must’ve been playing on his lips. "You called, so I answered."

Her heart fluttered at his words, warmth spreading through her chest as she imagined him standing on the pitch, surrounded by his teammates, holding up a hand to quiet them just so he could speak to her.

"But I didn’t want to interrupt you," she said softly, suddenly feeling a little guilty. "Tom said you never answer when you’re training…"

"Tom’s right," Mattheo replied, and she could hear him shifting, maybe stepping further away from his team. "I usually don’t."

"Then why now?" she asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.

There was a moment of silence on the other end, as if he was debating how much to reveal. When he spoke again, his voice was a little lower, more intimate. "Because it’s you, Y/N. I don’t care if I’m in the middle of training or dueling with a dragon. If you call, I’ll answer."

Y/N’s face flushed, her heart racing at the sincerity in his voice. She felt the corners of her lips tug up into a smile, her earlier nerves completely forgotten.

"You’re going to get in trouble with your team," she teased lightly, trying to hide how much his words affected her.

Mattheo chuckled again, the sound sending a shiver down her spine. "They can wait a minute. You’re more important."

Before she could respond, she heard Theo yell in the background. "Oi! Riddle, get off the phone! We’ve got a game to win!"

Mattheo’s voice was playful as he called back, "Yeah, yeah, I’ll be right there!"

"Go," Y/N laughed softly. "I don’t want to be the reason you lose."

"I’d rather lose the game than miss a call from you," he shot back with ease, making her heart skip a beat.

"Mattheo," she whispered, her voice softer now, feeling her emotions start to swirl. "You're ridiculous."

"And you love it," he replied smoothly, his voice teasing but filled with warmth.

She couldn't deny it. "Yeah, I do."

"I’ll see you later, alright?" Mattheo said, and she could hear the smile in his voice, the affection that laced his words.

"Yeah, later," Y/N replied, her heart full as she ended the call.

As she tucked her phone back into her pocket, she couldn’t stop the smile that spread across her face. Tom had been right—Mattheo normally wouldn’t answer during training.

But for her, he always would.

KINKTOBER #3– SUNKEN AND SPELLBOUND / mattheo riddle

october 8th breath play , slight blood play , outdoor intimacy

part one part two

mattheo riddle x fem reader

summary: mattheo’s drawn to the siren he met at the black lake. so drawn, in fact, that he’d let her claim him.

warnings: siren!reader, reader mostly takes control, unprotected piv, blood play, breath play, reader kind of almost drowns mattheo a few times (he’s fine), outdoor sex, oral (m receiving), 18+ content

words: 5.5k (smut starts after a little bit of plot)

a/n: sorry this was posted a day late…. anyways i’d appreciate if you read part 1 first!!

navigation kinktober masterlist

Recklessness was not unfamiliar to Mattheo Riddle; it was practically second nature. It clung to him like a shadow, a constant companion in his pursuit of the unknown. But as he plunged into the icy, unforgiving depths of the Black Lake, even he felt the weight of his decision.

The cold pierced his skin, seeping into his bones as the Black Lake swallowed him whole, its inky depths tightening around his chest like a vice. Yet, the deeper he sank, the more alive he felt. The water muffled the world above, leaving only the beat of his heart and the pull of something darker, more magnetic, beneath the surface

The biting chill clawed at his skin, but none of it mattered—not the cold, not the darkness surrounding him—because you were right there, your presence burning like a beacon in the depths.

You stared at him in disbelief as he floated in front of you, your mouth slightly open as if you hadn't expected him to follow through. But he had. Of course he had.

He surfaced again, shivering but with no regrets as he stared at you. Your eyes widened in shock as he swam closer, the cold surrounding him but doing nothing to diminish the heat burning inside him.

“What the hell are you doing?” you whispered, your voice barely audible, laced with both awe and fear.

“I’m here,” he said, closing the distance between you, his breath coming in ragged gasps as the cold tightened its grip on him. “I’m with you.”

You stared at him, and for a moment, he thought he saw something break in you, a crack in the armor you wore so tightly. But before he could say anything more, before he could reach for you again, you moved.

With a soft gasp, you dipped beneath the water, disappearing into the depths as though trying to escape him, trying to protect him from the monster you believed yourself to be. Mattheo’s heart clenched as he watched you go, the water swallowing you whole.

But he didn’t stop. Without hesitation, he plunged beneath the surface after you, the icy cold stealing his breath as he kicked down, following the faint shimmer of your form in the dark water. His lungs burned, the pressure building with every second, but all he could focus on was the blurred outline of you just ahead.

And then, suddenly, you were there. His hands found your waist, pulling you to him, your bodies suspended in the dark water. His eyes were closed in on your tail, your pearlescent skin, as if he couldn’t believe such a vision of beauty could ever be real. You stared at him, wide-eyed, your chest rising and falling as if you couldn’t believe he had followed you this far.

For a heartbeat, neither of you moved.

And then your lips were on his.

The world around him dissolved. The cold, the darkness, the water—none of it mattered anymore. The only thing that existed was the press of your lips against his, the taste of salt and cold, the electric connection that surged through his veins like fire.

It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t soft. The kiss was desperate, hungry, filled with the kind of longing that felt like it had been buried for centuries, waiting to be unleashed. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer as the water swirled around you both, the world above forgotten. His lungs screamed for air, but he didn't pull away. He couldn't. This was everything he'd been waiting for, everything he hadn't even realized he needed.

But as the need for air clawed at Mattheo’s chest, a panic began to unfurl. The world around him blurred, the darkness closing in. He pressed one final kiss to your lips, a silent promise hanging in the air, before he tried to pull away, desperation coursing through him.

But you didn’t let him go.

In an instant, the heat of the moment shifted. Your grip tightened around his wrist and he felt you pull him deeper. The instinct to fight surged within him, battling against a rush of fear. He thrashed against you, confusion mixing with dread. This wasn’t the girl he had kissed moments ago—the one who had seemed so vulnerable, so full of life. No, this was something else. This was your true nature, and it terrified him.

With a surge of adrenaline, he brought his hand to your face, desperate to reach the girl he knew was still there beneath the surface. Your eyes flickered for a moment, the predatory gaze breaking, revealing a glimpse of terror and guilt. But it was fleeting, lost in the depths of your siren instincts.

The realization crashed over him, mixing with the burning sensation in his chest. You were fighting against it, battling your own nature, but he could feel you slipping further away. He thrashed harder, panic flooding his system as he tried to push past the instinctive fear that clawed at him.

Then, as if you sensed his desperation, your focus shifted. The guilt flashed in your eyes again, and you acted instinctively. You wrapped your arms around him, propelling both of you upward, your strength overcoming his flailing movements.

When you broke the surface, Mattheo gasped, lungs burning as he inhaled the fresh air, each breath like a lifeline. He could feel you beside him, but the panic lingered, a raw edge of terror.

With a sudden burst of power, you pulled him forward, your body gliding through the shallows. You dragged him onto the muddy shore, tail splashing against the dirt as you clumsily crawled onto land. Mattheo lay gasping, his breath ragged as he fought to calm the storm of emotions within him.

“Why?! Why would you do that?!” you screamed, your fear for him coming out in anger. “You could have drowned!” you continued, the anger spilling over. “You could have died!”

Mattheo's chest heaved as he struggled to find his breath, his heart pounding with the remnants of panic, but there was no regret. He felt it as sure as the ground beneath him—solid and real—just like the girl lying beside him, your chest rising and falling with rapid, shallow breaths. The damp earth clung to your skin, your once-sleek tail now replaced by legs, though they shimmered in the dim light, pearlescent scales still clinging to your thighs as if they, too, couldn’t fully let go of the water.

You looked wild, like you belonged to the night itself, hair wet and clinging to your face. Slowly, he dragged his gaze up from your scales, following the soft curve of your legs and up to your face, the moonlight casting delicate shadows across your features. You were otherworldly—beautiful in a way that words couldn’t capture, a creature that belonged to the deep, dark waters. But you were also something more, something terrifyingly human in this moment, lying beside him in the dirt, torn between two worlds.

You didn’t look at him, your breath still uneven as you stared at your legs, your hands brushing across the silvery scales as if you could wipe them away, banish them along with the instincts that had nearly overtaken you. He could see it—the guilt, the fear of what you’d almost done. Of what you still could do.

He shifted, dirt sticking to his damp clothes as he sat up, still watching you with a mix of awe and something deeper, something that twisted in his chest. He didn’t want to look away—couldn’t look away.

Your eyes flickered toward him then, and for the briefest moment, something vulnerable and raw flashed across your face. It was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by a hard edge of anger, but Mattheo had seen it. You were terrified—not of him, but of yourself.

“I’m fine,” he finally said, voice rough but steady as he tried to calm you, to reassure you. But the words did little to ease the tension in you. You weren't fine. Neither of you were.

Your lips parted again, your breath shaky, but you didn’t speak. Not yet. Instead, you pushed yourself up, knees sinking into the dirt, and turned your gaze back to the lake, your expression torn between longing and dread. The water still called to you, still tempted you to return. Mattheo saw it in the way your body tensed, the way your fingers curled into fists.

“You don’t have to go,” he wanted to say, but he held the words back, unsure if that was what you needed to hear. Slowly, you moved. You turned back toward him, your eyes locking onto his.

“You shouldn’t have followed me.” Your voice was quiet, hoarse, but it carried a weight that hit him square in the chest. “You don’t understand... what could’ve happened.”

He swallowed hard, his throat still raw, but his gaze didn’t waver. “I don’t care.”

Your brows furrowed, frustration flashing in your eyes, but underneath it, he could see the fear—the guilt eating away at you. “You don’t get it, Mattheo. I could’ve killed you.”

“But you didn’t.”

Your hands curled into the dirt at your sides, knuckles whitening as you fought whatever battle was raging inside of you. “I almost did.”

He leaned forward, his hand reaching out to touch you, but he stopped just short of your skin, waiting. “But you didn’t.”

Your gaze snapped to his, wide and desperate, as if you didn’t know whether to push him away or pull him closer. “Why did you go in the water?” you whispered, your voice cracking. “Why do you keep coming back?”

“Because I can’t stay away from you,” he said, and his voice was so quiet, so raw, that he barely recognized it as his own.

Your breath hitched, your eyes searching his, something fragile breaking apart between you. Mattheo leaned closer, the dirt beneath him grounding him as he closed the distance between you. He could feel the warmth radiating off you, a tantalizing contrast to the cool night air. Your eyes widened slightly, but there was no fear in them, only a mixture of uncertainty and something that felt like yearning.

He captured your lips again, his heart racing at the sensation, the intoxicating taste of you lingering on his tongue. He couldn't shake the thrill that coursed through him, the twisted attraction that tugged at his core.

You had almost drowned him, and yet here he was, completely captivated. It was almost sickening, how easily you pulled him in. The girl who haunted his thoughts, the one he barely knew but felt closer to than anyone else.

"I want you so fucking bad, Y/N," he breathed against your lips, the words spilling out before he could hold them back.

Your breath hitched, eyes flickering with a mixture of surprise and something deeper, something that resonated within him. "Mattheo..."

"You're so fucking beautiful, you don't understand,” he mumbled desperately, a man reduced to a pathetic mess of need. "I can't stay away from you. I can't. You haunt me.”

The truth of it crashed over him like a wave, pulling him under once more. You were a siren, and he was lost in your song.

"Let me have this," he urged, voice low and intense, a plea wrapped in desperation. "Just for tonight."

"I don't want to hurt you," you whispered.

"I trust you," he replied, his conviction strong. It was a risk, he knew that, but every moment spent away from you felt like torture. "I won't let fear stop me."

The night was eerily still, save for the soft rippling of the Black Lake lapping against the shore. The weight of your lips on his made Mattheo's pulse hammer against his skin. You were intoxicating, your every breath, every touch, pulling him deeper into your web.

Your control over him was palpable. Mattheo was used to having the upper hand, used to getting what he wanted, but not here—not with you. Your kiss was laced with dominance, your siren nature swirling in the air between you, wrapping around his limbs like invisible chains. You toyed with him, your lips a whisper away, teasing him with just enough contact to drive him wild but never fully giving him what he craved.

When you finally pulled away, the cold night air rushed between you, making the heat of your body even more tantalizing. Your fingers, delicate yet undeniably strong, trailed along the back of his neck, sending shivers down his spine. He leaned forward again, wanting more, needing you closer, but you held him back, a small smile tugging at your lips.

You leaned in close, your breath brushing his ear. "Do you trust me?" you whispered, your voice a soft, dangerous melody.

"I... I do," he breathed, the words slipping out before he could think. He wasn't sure if they were true, but something about you-wild and untamed-made him powerless to resist.

Before he could react, your hand pressed against his chest, and with a forceful shove, he was falling backward into the freezing water. The shock seized his lungs, the icy grip of the lake wrapping around him. His mind screamed for air, but before he could surface, you were on him, pushing his upper body down into the shallow water.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, and you kissed him fiercely beneath the surface. The cold water closed in from every angle, heightening the heat of your lips against his.

Every nerve sparked with sensation, the icy water and the warmth of your body creating a whirlwind of contrasts.

But then the burn in his lungs began. He tried to pull away, desperate for air, but you held him there, hands tightening, nails grazing his scalp as you deepened the kiss. A thrill coursed through him, mingling with fear, as his body struggled beneath you, thrashing against the weight of your grip.

And just when he thought he couldn't take it any longer, you pulled him to the surface.

He gasped, breaking through the water, chest heaving as he sucked in air. But with the fear ebbing, something else took its place-a need, an aching want for more. He wanted you. All of you.

Your voice, soft and hypnotic, drifted to his ears. "I told you I could be dangerous," you whispered, your lips grazing his ear like a secret only for him.

He turned, breath still shaky, but his voice steady. "Then be dangerous," he growled, hands already reaching for you again.

Your eyes darkened with something untamed, and a wicked smile curved your lips. Without warning, you shoved him back under the water. This time, he didn't resist.

When your lips claimed his again, it was a collision of heat and desperation, a kiss that left no room for gentleness. He matched your ferocity, his teeth grazing yours, tongues battling as his need for air warred with his need for you.

When he surfaced again, he was met with your soft laughter-low, teasing, full of dark delight. "You're reckless, Mattheo," you teased, eyes gleaming. "What would you do without me?"

"Maybe I wouldn't need saving if you let me breathe," he shot back, the tension between you palpable.

"Do you want to breathe?" you challenged, your voice dipping into something more sensual. "Or do you want to drown?"

A slow grin spread across his face, his gaze locking onto yours with an almost obsessive hunger. "Both," he whispered, his voice rough with desire. "I want to drown in you."

He surged forward, crashing his lips into yours. His hands roamed over your body, rough and insistent, nails digging into your skin. You responded in kind, your claws extending, raking through his shirt and leaving lines of crimson across his chest.

Pain mixed with pleasure, every sensation more vivid in the cool water. He shuddered as blood began to trickle from the fresh cuts, staining the surface of the lake. You licked your lips, eyes gleaming as you eyed the crimson marks with a predatory hunger.

"You taste exquisite," you purred, your tongue flicking out to lap at the wounds. He groaned, head falling back, every touch sending fire through his veins.

Your hands traced the lines of his body, lingering on the fresh marks, each touch claiming him, marking him as yours. When your lips found his again, they were tinged with the taste of his own blood, the mix of salt and copper intoxicating.

You pushed him back onto the bank, your body pressing down on his, pinning him beneath you. Your hair fell like a curtain around him, the world disappearing, leaving just the two of you-raw, primal, and connected.

You kissed him with a hunger that was more than physical, a need that was both possessive and intimate. He held you close, his fingers tangling in your hair, anchoring himself to you as you devoured him.

When you finally pulled back, leaving him gasping, you trailed your lips down his throat, pausing to nip at his pulse. "You're mine," you whispered against his skin, the words vibrating through him. "Every breath, every drop of blood... it's all mine."

Then, slowly, you shifted, fingers deftly working at the fastenings of his trousers, your gaze never leaving his, the connection between you deepening with every beat of his heart.

Mattheo gasped, his breath catching in his throat as your fingers grazed over the hardness straining beneath his trousers. His chest rose and fell in quick succession, eyes locked with yours, the promise of what was to come thick in the air. There was a tenderness in the way you teased him, your claws leaving faint, stinging trails on his skin-not meant to hurt, but to remind him he was yours.

"I want you to beg," you whispered, your lips hovering over his, your words filled with more emotion than threat. "I want to hear you ask for me."

His chest tightened at your touch, not just from the sensation, but from the overwhelming need for connection. There was a flicker of something in your eyes— something more than lust. Slowly, deliberately, you hooked your claws into the waistband of his trousers, peeling them away from his body with excruciating slowness. The cool night air brushed over his exposed skin, but it wasn't the cold that made him tremble.

It was you.

You looked at him, really looked at him, your eyes drinking in every inch of him like he was something to be cherished. Your fingers, delicate yet firm, wrapped around his aching length. The featherlight touch had him arching into your hand, but you kept your movements maddeningly slow, savoring every reaction as though it mattered.

"Please..." Mattheo's voice cracked, his pride crumbling under the weight of his desire. But more than that, there was something in his tone—something raw, vulnerable. “Fuck,” he whispered

A smile tugged at your lips, but it was softer this time, touched with affection. "Oh, I intend to," you murmured, leaning down to press a kiss to his thigh. Your lips lingered there, warm and gentle against his skin, the contrast to your earlier dominance making his heart pound harder.

You lavished attention on his tip, circling your thumb around his slit as he found the urge to thrust up into your fist.

“Give me more,” he choked out, his voice raw with need and desperation. “Please.”

His breath hitched when your mouth finally hovered over him, the warmth of your breath against his sensitive flesh sending shivers down his spine. But when you took him in your mouth, he felt like he was about to implode.

Mattheo's hands fisted in the dirt, his body going rigid as he fought the instinct to push you deeper, to lose himself in the wet heat of your mouth; but you were in control.

Mattheo threw his head back with a guttural moan, his hips jerking involuntarily as you bobbed up and down his length. The wet heat of your mouth engulfed him, your tongue fluttering along the underside, hitting that spot that made his vision go white.

Your mouth moved with practiced precision, and every flick of your tongue sent him spiraling deeper into pleasure. He could feel the tightness building in his stomach, the desire overwhelming him as he fought to maintain his composure. He didn’t understand how you seemed to know him, know his body, in a way no one else ever had.

His voice came out ragged, filled with more than just desire. "You have no idea what you do to me."

"You're so fucking perfect," Mattheo breathed, the words slipping out before he could catch them, raw and unfiltered. His eyes fluttered shut as you continued your slow torment, his body tightening with every teasing stroke. He could feel himself teetering on the edge of bliss, so close to losing control-until, with a wicked smile, you pulled away.

The cold air hit his overheated skin, a sharp contrast that left him gasping. His eyes snapped open, meeting yours as you simply looked up at him with that maddeningly innocent smile.

"You don't get to finish yet," you whispered, amusement lacing your voice as your hand moved lazily over him, keeping him right there on the edge, denying him the release he craved. It drove him wild.

"Y/N..." His voice was hoarse, rough with desperation, but you only laughed softly, leaning down to press a kiss just below his navel, your lips brushing against his skin like a promise.

"You'll take what I give you," you commanded softly, and the words sent a shudder through him.

Something in him snapped. With a growl, Mattheo flipped you onto your back, his larger frame pinning you beneath him. His breath came hot and fast against your cheek as his intense gaze locked onto yours, the air between you charged with unspoken challenge.

"You think you can toy with me? Make me beg, then deny me?" he growled, the words low, full of dark promise.

You smirked, leaning back as the moonlight caught the delicate scales still faint on your legs, your eyes flashing. "You think you're in control here, Mattheo?"

His grin was predatory as he grasped your wrists, pinning them firmly above your head. "Let's find out," he murmured, his voice dangerous, sending a thrill through you. He relished in the way your body responded to his touch, the way your breath hitched, your lips parting in surprise.

With deliberate slowness, he leaned down, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. "You've been playing games, love... but now, it's my turn."

You gasped, your heart pounding as his grip tightened, pinning both your wrists above your head. The thrill of helplessness, mixed with the burning desire coursing through you, made your pulse race. "Please," you whispered, the word slipping from your lips before you could stop it.

Mattheo's dark eyes gleamed with satisfaction. "You'll have to be more specific," he teased, savoring the sight of you-flushed, desperate, teetering on the brink.

"Don't make me say it," you mumbled, but his smile only grew, his lips brushing against yours in a tantalizing near-kiss. The tension between you felt like it could snap at any second.

"Tell me what you want," he urged softly, his voice like silk, smooth and coaxing. "Beg for it."

Your heart warred with your pride, but the aching need between your legs won.

"Please... I need you inside me. I need to feel you."

His eyes darkened, satisfaction rolling through him as he released your wrists, his hands sliding down your sides with deliberate slowness, savoring every inch of you. In one swift motion, he flipped onto his back, pulling you on top of him.

"Take what you need," he rasped, his voice thick with desire.

Your hands trembled as you reached down, feeling his length throb against your palm. With a slow, deliberate motion, you tugged your panties to the side and guided him to your entrance, teasing both of you with the anticipation.

Mattheo's low groan reverberated through the night air, his fingers gripping your hips as he felt your heat envelop him. "Fuck... you feel incredible," he breathed, his eyes locked on yours, a fire burning in their depths.

Slowly, inch by inch, you sank down onto him, the delicious stretch and fullness making your head spin, both of you caught in the intensity of the moment.

Mattheo's grip on your hips tightened as you sank down fully, his thick length filling you completely. For a moment, you both savored the intimate connection, reveling in how perfectly your bodies fit together.

Then, you began to move, rolling your hips in a slow, tantalizing rhythm that made his head spin.

"F- fuck," he breathed, his eyes dark with desire as he watched you ride him. "You—god, you're perfect."

With every thrust, he bucked up to meet you, driving deeper into your slick heat. The intoxicating sensation of being filled by him made you crave more, and you quickened your pace, chasing that elusive peak of pleasure.

"Oh, fuck... you feel incredible," he groaned, his hands roaming over your curves, tugging your bra down to tease your nipples and squeezing your ass. Each rough caress ignited a fire within you, and you could feel the coil of pleasure tightening in your core.

Suddenly, he surged upward, pressing soft kisses along your neck, whispering apologies for the bites he left behind.

But you broke away, a playful glint in your eyes. "You want to play?" you purred, your voice sultry and inviting. "Let's see how long you can hold your breath."

With that, you pushed him underwater, testing his limits as you continued to ride him, denying him air.

Beneath the surface, Mattheo's body went rigid, panic flaring in his eyes. But even as desperation clawed at him, the pressure of your sex against his throbbing cock sent jolts of pleasure through him, heightening his desire despite the urgency of his situation.

His mind raced, desperate for a way to breathe, but the overwhelming sensations stole his willpower. As the need for air grew unbearable, he surrendered, succumbing to the intoxicating pull of your body.

Just as his vision began to blur, signaling blackout, you finally pulled him up. He gasped for air, clinging to you like a lifeline. "Shit, Y/N," he panted, voice shaky with relief and lingering arousal. "You're going to kill me."

Mattheo's chest heaved as he gulped in air, heart racing wildly. "You're insane," he gasped, a mix of awe and disbelief coloring his tone.

"Absolutely fucking insane."

Yet even as he spoke, he knew there was nowhere else he'd rather be than right here, lost in the depths of your daring game.

His hands slid up your slick skin, resting on your hips as he pulled you flush against him, grinding his hardness against your aching core. "I told you a million times. I’m not scared of you.”

A wicked smile curved your lips, your eyes sparkling with mischief. "That’s why I like you," you purred, tracing a finger along his jawline before gripping his chin firmly.

With a sudden yank, you wrenched his head back, exposing the delicate column of his throat. Your teeth sank into the tender flesh, marking him as yours, and he let out a guttural moan, the pain blending seamlessly with the pleasure radiating between you.

"You wanted me to be dangerous, didn't you?" you taunted, nipping and sucking at his pulse point. "Is this what you imagined?"

Mattheo could only whimper in response, his cock twitching inside you as you found a particularly sensitive spot.

"No," he managed to choke out, voice strained with a heady mix of pain and ecstasy. "It's better. So much fucking better."

Mattheo's hands gripped your waist tightly, his nails digging into your skin as he fought to retain control. But with every wicked twist of your hips and sharp nip of your teeth, his resolve crumbled, surrendering to the relentless waves of pleasure crashing over him.

"More," he pleaded, his eyes wild and desperate. "Please, Y/N. I can take it."

His desperate plea ignited a primal hunger within you, a desire to push him further and test the limits of his endurance.

With a feral growl, you released his throat, your mouth trailing down to his collarbone, biting and sucking the soft skin there. You quickened your pace, riding him with abandon, your inner walls clenching around his pulsing cock.

Mattheo arched beneath you, a hoarse cry escaping his lips as he neared the edge.

"Fuck, Y/N! I'm gonna-"

You silenced him with another brutal bite, your teeth sinking deep enough to draw blood. The coppery taste fueled your frenzy, driving you to ride him harder, faster, determined to prolong his pleasure.

A wicked smirk curled your lips at his plea, and you obliged with sadistic delight.

Gripping his hair, you forced his head back, exposing more of his throat to your merciless attentions. Each bite left its mark, and you reveled in the way his body trembled beneath you.

"Look at you," you purred, voice laced with disdain. "So weak, so desperate."

Mattheo's face twisted in a blend of pain and pleasure, tears welling in his eyes as he struggled to process the overwhelming sensations. "I'm not—mmnph… not weak. I'm just—fuck! Letting you have your fun."

You leaned in closer, your hot breath ghosting over his ear. "Is that so? Then why do you look like you're about to pass out?"

He shook his head, fighting through the haze of pleasure. "Because you're torturing me," he groaned, a hint of admiration threading through his voice. "Not because I'm weak."

"Whatever you say. Keep telling yourself that."

As if to emphasize your point, you resumed your relentless pace, riding him with renewed vigor. The wet slap of flesh echoed through the air, punctuated by Mattheo's ragged gasps and moans.

Suddenly, his hips bucked erratically, fingers digging into your skin hard enough to bruise as his orgasm crashed over him. "Fuck, Y/N!" he cried, back arching off the dirt, waves of pleasure consuming him.

But you showed no mercy, riding him through the aftershocks. The sensation of his pulsing cock combined with the overstimulation of his release was almost unbearable, yet you persisted, driven by an insatiable need for your own peak.

"Shut up," you snapped, pushing his head back under the water when he tried to speak. "I'm not done with you yet."

Mattheo's mind spun as you rode him mercilessly, ignoring his spent state. The water filled his lungs, darkness creeping into his vision, yet he clung to consciousness, enduring the exquisite torture.

His body jerked beneath you, overwhelmed by the relentless friction and the knowledge that you wouldn't stop until you wrung every last ounce of pleasure from him. Despite the desperation, a twisted thrill surged through him at the sheer depravity of it all.

He could feel you tightening, your movements growing erratic as you neared your own climax. The thought of bringing you over the edge fueled his fading strength.

You gasped through gritted teeth, your pace frantic as you chased your release.

Mattheo felt your walls clenching around him, pressure building to a breaking point.

With a final, brutal thrust, you slammed down onto him, crying out as your orgasm tore through you. Your body convulsed, milking his spent cock for every last drop as you ground against him.

Even as the waves of pleasure ebbed, you remained impaled on him, your weight pressing him into the dirt as you caught your breath. Mattheo lay there, dazed and utterly spent, wondering if he'd ever be able to move again.

As you slowly regained your breath, your heart still racing from the intensity of your release, you looked down at him. The moonlight danced on his skin, illuminating the wild, desperate hunger in his eyes. There was something intoxicating about the way he gazed up at you, as if you were the only thing that mattered in that moment.

“You meant it,” you whispered, brushing a damp strand of hair away from his forehead. “When you told me that you weren’t afraid to drown”

His breath came in ragged gasps, and the truth hung in the air between you. “No,” he admitted, voice hoarse. “Maybe I just want to be near you, guppy.”

That drew an unexpected, breathy laugh from your lips as you stared down at him, trying to process that he was real.

“Don’t call me that,” you mumbled.

“Whatever you say, guppy.”

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