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junovrsmp4 · 28 days

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three is not a crowd

5 times Chris walks in on you and Matt fucking + 1 time he gets to join in on the fun

pairing: established!matt x reader, chris x reader, matt x reader x chris

summary: what it says on the tin basically

warnings: THREESOME, PURE FILTH, dick riding, oral (female & male receiving), teasing, edging, over-stimulation, multiple orgasms, squirting, p in v, slight degradation/praising, slight angst, happy ending yay

word count: 6.9K

author’s note: im a whore for both of them. that is all. (also this has plot, and is mostly beta read but i havent slept in hrs so if some mistakes did slip thru my bad

“Hey Matt, have you seen my-” Chris begins to ask as he pushes Matt’s bedroom door open, expecting his brother to either be lazing around in bed or be at his desk, gaming.

What he doesn't expect is the sight he is instead greeted by, of you, Matt’s girlfriend of the last year and a half, astride Matt’s lap, riding his dick while he leans against his headboard, head thrown back and hands grabbing your hips, guiding you, slowly.

Chris is shocked, understandably, and he should just turn around and book it. Instead, he stands frozen, watching the way your head is nestled into the crook of Matt’s neck, your shoulders shaking. If Chris ignores the sound of his own pounding heart, he can almost hear the soft whimpers you’re letting out at each downward thrust of your hips.

At the sound of a soft, deep groan, Chris’ attention shifts to Matt, who has his eyes shut, and his bottom lip pinched between his teeth. There’s something surreal about this scene, seeing Matt, who looks nothing like Chris, but also looks the most like him, fucking this beautiful girl who’s been on his mind for months now.

“Matt…,” he hears you whine loudly against his brother’s neck, and Chris has to grit his teeth, fight against the urge to shove his hands into his pants and fist his growing erection. This shouldn't turn him on so much, hell, he shouldn't even be here right now. He should have run in the opposite direction as soon as he realized what he’d walked in on, but he’s mesmerized by the way you move, your back arching as your hips move back and forth. The slow, sensual, almost hypnotic, movements of your body as you ride Matt’s dick has him clenching his fists, nails digging into his palms and it’s easy to imagine him in Matt’s place as he gets this view of what it might look like to fuck you. Your moans grow louder, and Chris thinks it might be because you’re getting close, and god, he feels so hot underneath his skin.

“Shh baby, didn't you say we needed to be quiet?” Matt whispers against the side of your head. “Can’t have Chris hearing us, can we?”

At the sound of his name, Chris’ heart hammers faster, and he looks up at Matt’s face, only to see that his brother’s gaze was already on him, watching him with a slight smirk before thrusting his hips up, presumably driving his cock deeper into you, making you moan even louder than you already were.

Breaking out of his stupor, Chris stumbles backwards before hightailing it to his room, slamming the door behind him. It takes all of five seconds for him to get his cock out of his sweatpants, furiously jerking off as he leans against his door, biting into the hem of his t-shirt that he’d pulled up over his chest, and only another five seconds before he shoots his cum all over himself.

Chris knows its wrong, wanting his brother's girl. This was never a problem before, because any time he found out Matt liked someone, Chris immediately lost interest. It was the brothers’ code; they never fought over girls, and besides, they always just liked different ones.

You, though…it was hard not to like you, even after he found out Matt had his eyes on you.

Chris remembers the first time he met you, how nice you’d been to him and his brothers, how easily you’d fit into their lives. He’s not going to lie and say he’d wanted you right from the start. It was a gradual thing, slowly creeping up on him before he realized what had gotten him.

You just made him feel so comfortable, and surprisingly, the two of you had a lot in common. But then again, you had a lot in common with Matt, and Nick. And yet, you were so different. You were smart, playful, and so, so kind. You were just the right amount of goofy and serious, and you just, fit well into the dynamic Chris and his brothers shared.

It shouldn't have surprised him when Matt eventually told him and Nick that he was into you and planned to ask you out. It all happened so quickly after that. You and Matt had gotten together and, now you weren't just the new friend that Chris and his brothers were always hanging out with, but his brother's (his brother who was also his best friend, really) girlfriend.

Which is why Chris knows it’s fucked up. Wanting you. And he knows it’s even more fucked up that he wishes he could have a repeat of what happened a few weeks ago when he accidentally walked in on you and Matt. The amount of times he’s jacked off to that memory alone the past few nights is insane, his mind supplying images to create his own version of events where he doesn't run away.

Especially fucked up is the fact that Matt had seen him, had looked cocky that he’d caught Chris watching them, and even that fact hadn’t deterred Chris from chasing orgasm after orgasm to the thought of fucking you, imagining how tight and wet your pussy might be, what it might taste like.

Speaking of the fucker who seemed totally unfazed by recent events, Matt sat across Chris, scrolling through his phone, while Nick sat beside him, editing their latest video. Chris was trying his hardest not to flip the fuck out, but his whole nervous system seemed like it was fried. Nick had already yelled at him twice to stop moving so much because he was apparently jostling the table too much, and Matt had just let out a bemused chuckle without lifting his eyes from his phone the entire time.

Just as Chris was about to get up and retreat to him room, the doorbell rings, before Matt gets a series of texts.

“Oh, she’s here-” Matt says, before shooting out of his chair and rushing to great you at the front door.

“Hey, hey, hey!” your cheery voice rings through the hallway, as you and Matt make your way into the kitchen, and Chris almost chokes on the sip of Pepsi he’d just taken because holy fuck-

You were wearing a short, tight black dress that hugged the lines and curves of your body just right, the square neckline barely covering your chest. His eyes slipped further down to the way the fabric of the dress cinched at your waist, and to the slit at the side of the dress that came up to mid-thigh. That and the combination of tall strappy heels you had on made your legs look…really good. So good that Chris wishes he was between those legs, licking a path up your calf to your inner thighs, leaving bruising kisses to mar the smooth, unblemished skin of your legs, before finally, finally-

Nick hoots just then, exclaiming about how hot your fit looks, pulling Chris out of his daze. He watches as you bask in the compliments being showered onto you by both Nick and Matt now, and can't help but smile at the way you try to hide your blushing face.

So, it’s completely out of left field when he sees you again later that night, sitting on the couch with your hands covering your face but this time it’s to hide the loud moans that threaten to slip from your mouth as you watch Matt kneel in front of you, his mouth pressing kisses into your inner thighs…just like Chris had imagined doing earlier.

It’s ridiculous really, how Chris had been feeling slightly normal after dinner with you and his brothers, because as awkward as he may have been feeling about you and Matt, being around you and his brothers, having good food and just laughing about random shit made him feel really fucking good. Like everything was normal and he wasn't fantasizing about fucking his brother’s girlfriend. Like he hadn't accidentally walked in on them fucking.

Of course it’s just his fucking luck that as soon he’s feeling just that slightest bit of normalcy, he’d decided to go to the kitchen and grab a Pepsi from the fridge at 3 AM, only to find his brother about to eat you out on the couch.

“Matt-” you whine, as your back arches off the couch, one of your hands moving to grab Matt’s hair, the other trying and failing to hold back your moans. “Matt, please- nnggh- stop teasing.”

Chris feels all his blood rush down south and it leaves him lightheaded. The low lighting in the room accentuates the shadows of your body and he can see the muscles in your legs flex as your thighs clench around Matt’s head, trying to get him to move his mouth closer to where you want him. You’re not in the tight black dress he’d seen you in earlier, but in a blue baby tee and black lace-trimmed hipster briefs. There’s an almost imperceptible quiver that wracks through your entire body in anticipation for what’s to come.

Matt doesn't keep you waiting for long. Chris' breathing grows even more jagged as he watches Matt’s fingers push your panties to the side before he runs his tongue flat up your pussy. Chris can't see as much as he’d like to, but his overactive imagination does the job for him, imagining how wet you must be.

Chris feels like such a sick perv for still standing there, watching with wide eyes as Matt (his literal brother) enthusiastically licks and kisses your pussy, and he almost wonders how neither of you haven't noticed him yet. Then again, you and Matt seem so lost in each other, and now there’s another ugly thought circling Chris’ brain, one that makes his chest hurt a little.

He forgoes his Pepsi for the night and quietly returns back to his room, cock half-hard, and his heart just the slightest bit heavy.

“Alright, what’s going on with you?” Nick asks him, while his eyes are still fixed on his phone.

He and Chris were sitting on the couch (Chris had been avoiding the section that you and Matt had used during your late night rendezvous), and Chris was idly flipping through his Netflix watch list.

“I don't know what you're talking about,” Chris says with a heavy sigh, slumping further into the couch.

It’s quiet, and the silence makes Chris look up at Nick, who was already looking at him with a curious frown.

“Seriously, what the fuck is up with you?” Nick asks, and he actually looks concerned, which throws Chris off a bit. “You’re usually bouncing off the walls and annoying the shit out of everyone in your nearest vicinity, but lately you've just been, I don't know- I’m like actually worried, did something happen? Is everything okay?”

Chris swallows around the lump that had formed in his throat and takes a minute. To do what, he doesn't know. It’s not like he’s going to prepare himself to tell Nick what he’d witnessed, twice, and how he was feeling about it. Really, how does one go about telling their triplet brother that they’d accidentally witnessed their other brother in an intimate situation with said brother’s partner, not once, but twice, and had enjoyed it, to the point of having nightly fantasies about it?

There were more complicated feelings lurking just under the surface, more than just Chris wanting to fuck you, but he did not have the mental bandwidth to unpack all that, so that was that. It’s not like he had honest to god feelings-

“See, at this point, you would’ve been yapping away-” Nick says, interrupting his train of thought, “-but instead, you’re just sitting there, looking all sad and miserable.”

“Okay, I don't look sad and miserable,” Chris says with a roll of his eyes. At least, he hopes he doesn't. “I’m just tired dude. Haven't been sleeping well lately.”

“Right.”

“What? It’s the truth.”

“Didn't say you were lying,” Nick says, matter-of-factually, in that signature Nick tone that lets everyone know when he isn't buying their bullshit.

“I’m fine,” Chris says slowly, waiting for Nick to stop looking at him so intensely.

“Sure,” Nick drawls out. “You’re also a shitty liar.”

“Fuck you,” Chris grumbles, chucking the TV remote at Nick, who flails to try and dodge it, letting out an indignant squawk when it bounces off his shoulder and falls to the ground.

This, of course, results in Nick throwing whatever was closest to him at Chris, which happens to be an empty water bottle, and eventually they're just chucking it back and forth, cursing at each other in between laughter.

It’s the most relaxed Chris has felt in weeks.

Too bad you had to walk in at that exact moment.

“Hey guys!” you say cheerily, plopping down on the couch, next to Chris. You’d stayed over for a couple of nights now, as you usually do, and Chris should be extremely used to your presence, except he feels his skin prickle as soon as your close to him, close enough for him to feel the warmth radiating off of your skin.

“God, how are you so chipper every morning?” Nick asks, shaking his head with a poorly hidden smile.

You twirl a strand of your hair around your finger, and bit the corner of your bottom lip. “It helps that I wake up to one of the hottest guys ever, and then get to hang out with his hot as fuck brothers,” you say with a smirk, waggling your eyebrows at Nick.

Chris wishes you hadn't just said that because now his mind wanders (more like sprints) to the memory of this morning, when he’d walked past Matt’s open bedroom. He’d heard the telltale sounds of skin slapping against skin, and your voice, whining Matt’s name over and over, which had him stopping right before Matt’s door, eyes wide, mouth agape. This couldn't be happening right? There was no way he’d walked into this situation for a third time.

Chris debates on whether he should just turn back around, go downstairs, out the front door, and bash his head against a tree, or if he should soldier on and just walk past to get to his room.

The sounds were getting to him. His cock strained against his grey sweatpants, creating a very obvious tent. His clothes suddenly felt a size too small, the air around him too thick, and he felt sweat break out on his forehead. He should leave, run far, far away from his house probably, but a sick part of him wants more than anything to see what’s got you moaning this time.

He rounds the corner and is met with a sight that almost has him falling to his knees.

It’s unfair, how incredibly gorgeous you look straddling Matt’s thighs, bouncing on his dick rhythmically, your head thrown back. You’re leaning back on your hands, supported on Matt’s knees, and Chris watches the way your body undulates as you swivel your hips, ribs flaring as your chest heaves. Every gasp you let out is a punch to Chris’ gut, leaving him feeling winded.

You’re so lost in the throes of pleasure that you don't hear when Chris groans out loud, but he knows exactly when Matt hears him, because his head rolls lazily towards him, his hands that had been grabbing your hips tightening, and there’s little to no warning before Matt’s flipping you over and thrusting into you with vigor.

“Does that feel good baby?” Chris hears Matt ask, his voice rough and low. “Tell me how good my dick makes you feel.”

“Fuck, so good, Matt- please, please, please-” your moans turning into whimpers as Matt’s thrust pick up in pace. Chris can tell exactly when Matt hits the bundle of nerves inside you that has you seeing stars because your back arches off his bed, hands scrambling to find purchase. Your fingers clench into the pillow above your head, as you beg Matt to go harder, faster.

Chris’ eyes bounce back to Matt, who’s watching you in awe, and he’s seen that look on his face numerous times before, like Matt can't get enough of you. Chris’ breath hitches, because he wishes it was him, in Matt’s place. Him, worshiping you, making you feel good. He wishes he was the one that was ripping those sounds out of you.

He catches Matt’s eyes just then, and Chris has never wanted to punch him in the face more than he does in that moment, because it almost feels like he’s mocking Chris.

See what I have, what you so desperately want…

Chris holds up a middle finger, directed at Matt and whatever god was up there who’d clearly forsaken him. He had half the mind to just yell but the last thing he wanted to do was embarrass you. So with a scathing look at Matt, and a mouthed fuck you, he walks to his room, the sound of Matt’s laughter the last thing he hears before Chris angrily slams the door and sheds his clothes, pumping his cock to the memory of your voice.

It’s the hardest he’s cum all week.

Chris walks in on Matt pounding you against the wall leading to the garage. At this point, it had to be on purpose. The two of you had to be planning this, because how was it always Chris that ended up walking in on them, and not Nick? Knowing his brother, Nick would’ve gone around voicing his disgust at having caught you and Matt fucking, any chance he got.

So, it had to be on purpose.

Matt’s whispering dirty things in your ear, loud enough for Chris to hear every word.

“You’re so fucking pretty baby-”

“I want to ruin you, want you to feel me for days-”

“You’re such a dirty little slut, aren’t you?” and that has you letting out a particularly loud whine. The next bit Matt whispers into your ear is too inaudible for Chris to comprehend but he can tell how much it affects you, because you absolutely lose it just then.

Fuck this. Fuck all of this.

“Can y’all stick to fucking in Matt’s bed?”

At the sound of Chris’ voice, you look up at him, startled, and it’s electrifying, your stare. Chris sees your eyebrows furrow, your lips, plump from being bitten (by yourself, or Matt, who cares at this point), fall open. Matt’s shoulders stiffen for a second, so Chris knows he’s aware that Chris is right behind them, but the asshole just keeps fucking going. And you, you’re still staring.

“Chris-” you gasp, your nails digging into Matt’s shoulder. Chris thinks you’re going to push him away, scramble to pull yourself together.

You surprise him by pushing back down onto Matt’s cock with even more fervor, your hands moving up Matt’s neck to grab onto his hair, pulling hard.

Chris watches you cum on Matt’s cock for the first time that night, all while your eyes were locked on his.

Chris doesn't like being angry. He very rarely is. And usually, he gets over it really quick.

Which is why it’s shocking to everyone when he gets cold and hostile towards Matt seemingly out of nowhere, and the anger doesn't subside.

It gets in the way of their work. Filming becomes exhausting, and it leaves all three brothers feeling frustrated and annoyed at each other.

It’s in the middle of filming a new car video when it all goes to head. Nick and Matt had attempted to film a video, but Chris couldn’t hold back the jabs at Matt, interrupting him every time he spoke, insulting him for no reason whatsoever, which only made Matt retaliate just as hard.

“That’s it-” Nick yells, his hands pushing his hair out of his face in frustration. “I’ve fucking had it with you two. I’m getting the fuck out of this car and the two of you are going to stay in here and talk. Don’t even bother coming back in until you sort out whatever-” he gestures wildly between Matt and Chris, “-is going on with you two!”

And with that, Nick storms back into their house.

Chris stares out of the window with his arms crossed, seething. He can tell Matt is looking at him, can see part of his reflection on the window, but Chris isn’t going to give him the satisfaction of breaking first.

Matt, much to Chris’ annoyance, was completely calm and collected.

“Chris-” Matt begins to say, but Chris just chucks his empty Pepsi can at him without looking. He hears it clatter against something (the steering wheel, he thinks), before dropping down onto the car floor with a dull thud.

Matt sighs, and Chris wants to yell, because Chris is the one that should be huffing and sighing, he’s the one that’s tired of all this bullshit.

“Are you trying to prove something?” Chris asks, because he never could stay quiet for too long. “Is that it? What the actual fuck Matt?”

Chris had fully turned to face Matt, who at least had the decency to look somewhat abashed now. His face was tinged pinked, and he was fiddling with his rings.

Chris continues. “I don’t know what’s going on in your head, but if you’re just trying to get me to see she’s your girl, I fucking get it, okay? You’ve made that really fucking clear. Did I say or do something to warrant this shit, because if you think I’m out to get her, I’m not, okay? Jesus- do you know how fucking insane-”

“She wants you bro.”

Chris blinks. He opens his mouth, and then shuts it.

“I used to catch her staring at you sometimes, and there were times she’d just keep scrolling through pictures of the two of us together- you and me, I mean- and…I don’t know, she’d have this look on her face.” Matt trails off. He looks at Chris, trying to gauge his reaction so far, but truth be told, Chris was still trying to process what Matt had initially said.

“What…?”

“Look, the two of us are happy together. I love her, she loves me, but I think she…” Matt coughs out, and it’s the first time since this whole thing has started that Chris has seen Matt this awkward. “She’s into you too. She never really told me, but it got pretty obvious after a while. And eventually, I- I started bringing you up, when we- um, yeah. She wants us both.”

Chris starts laughing. Because he doesn’t know what else to do.

“Alright, good prank dude- I’m still so fucking mad at you but-”

“I’m not kidding, Chris.”

Right. Because why would Matt joke about something like this?

“Um…”

“Yeah…”

And that’s how Chris finds himself back in Matt’s room. You and Matt were sitting on his bed, albeit a little far apart, meanwhile Chris had taken a seat in Matt’s gaming chair. Chris almost wants to call the two of you out on the pure torture you’d put him through the past few weeks, but one look at your face has him abandoning that train of thought.

You look so…remorseful. You’re slightly curled in on yourself, like you’re bracing for some sort of attack, and Chris’ heart melts. The last thing he wants is for you to feel upset, so he tries to lighten the mood.

“So, do you just wanna see which one of us has the better dick or-?”

He smiles as you sputter, eyes wide as you finally look up at him.

“There we go,” Chris whispers. “You’re finally looking at me.”

“Chris…I’m so sorry,” you whisper, lips trembling. “God, this is so stupid, why did we decide to tell him-”

“Hey, hey-” Chris chides. “I think I’ve been kept in the dark long enough, actually. I just wish y’all hadn’t used such a weird ass fucking way to tell me.”

“Well, to be fair, she didn’t even know you’d seen us that first couple of times,”

“Oh, god-”

“-And, we kinda assumed you’d take the fucking hint or something.”

“Yeah, I thought the hint was ‘I know you wanna fuck my girl, so I’m gonna make sure you catch us fucking every chance we get so you stay the fuck away’,” Chris says with a raised brow, staring deadpan at Matt.

“Wait, what-” you start, but you’re interrupted by Matt.

“Yeah, he’s wanted to fuck you for a while too.”

And that's how Chris finds himself with a front row view of Matt fucking you, up close and personal. Matt has you on all fours, facing Chris, while he pounds into you from behind, hard and deep. Each thrust punches a high-pitched moan out of you, and Chris watches, enraptured by the way you take it.

Chris watches to his heart's content that night, no longer worried about getting caught, no longer stressed about wanting to fuck you.

Chris watches you fall apart in Matt's hands over and over, and all he can think about is when he can finally have his turn.

+ 1

They’d had to wait for the perfect moment, a night they could be sure none of them would be interrupted.

They'd been planning for this night for a few days now, and it was finally here.

Chris and Matt stand side-by-side in front of Matt’s bed, arms crossed over their chest as they watch you squirm in his bed, their combined attention making you nervous. They’re both barely dressed, Chris in a black tank top and grey sweatpants, the front of which were already tented from his hard dick, while Matt was just in his black boxers. The low lighting of the room made Matt’s rings glisten as he rubbed at the stubble that he’d slowly allowed to grow on his face.

“How are we feeling, baby?” Matt asks you, smirking at the way you visibly gulp. “You ready for us?”

You sink your teeth into your bottom lip, looking up at Chris through your lashes before nodding.

That’s all the cue he needs.

Chris stalks over to you, slowly, climbing over the bed and crawling over you, his hands landing on either side of your head as he holds himself above you. You lay back, your hair fanning around your head on the pillow, your eyes wide as you wait for Chris’ next move.

“Can I kiss you?” Chris asks, wetting his lips, and he doesn’t have to wait long for his answer. Your fingers thread through his hair, pulling at the strands close to his nape, bringing his lips onto yours. The kiss is heady, a wild mess of tongue and teeth, because you’d both been waiting for this, dying for it, and here it was, finally happening.

“Chris-” you gasp, open mouth sliding over the hot skin of his cheek as he lowers his head to the crook of your neck, biting harsh kisses into the skin there, before tracing his tongue across your jaw.

“Fuck, fuck- you smell so good, I need you so bad ma-” Chris blabbers, his brain-to-mouth filter long gone. He vaguely registers Matt settling onto the bed, leaning against the headboard, as Chris kisses a path down your body, laving every inch of skin he can access with nips and kisses. You arch your back as Chris circles one of your nipples with his tongue, sucking on it as he flicks the other. He alternates between kissing and nipping your nipples, all the while, you have an almost painful grip on his hair, pushing your chest harder into his face.

Matt watches your face intently, seeing the way your features scrunch up in pleasure, mouth wide open as you gasp and whine. There’s a small part of him that knows he shouldn’t be so okay with his own brother having his way with his girlfriend, but it’s almost like he gets a 4K view of what it might usually look like when Matt’s the one doing these things to you.

Chris continues his path downwards, fingers hooking into the sides of your panties and slowly, agonizingly slowly, pulling them off of you. Your legs instinctively squeeze shut when the cold air hits your wet core, but Chris’s hands gently pry them open, staring at you in wonder.

“You’re so fucking wet, fuck-” Chris groans, before licking a stripe up the seam where your thigh meets your crotch, so close to where you actually want his tongue.

“Please, please-” you whimper, pushing your hips up closer to his lips, feeling his hot breath fan over you pussy. You hear both him and Matt chuckle, before Chris has his mouth on you, licking the wetness gathered in your folds. All you can hear is the blood rushing in your ears and the obscene sounds of Chris’s mouth as he eats you out like a man starving.

It’s almost too much, the way he’s sucking on your clit, before pushing his tongue into you, his face pushed deep, you’re sure he can’t breath. The pleasure builds, heat pooling low in your stomach. You feel Matt’s fingers brush against your forehead, pushing the hair that was starting to stick to it from all the sweat.

“You feel good baby?” Matt asks, tone soft, but his eyes glint dangerously. “One of us wasn’t enough for you, was it? You’re such a dirty girl, wanting me and my brother.”

You whine, head pushing against his thigh closest to your head. Chris laughs, pulling his head back to chime in.

“Greedy little slut, that’s what she is,” he says, cheeks rosy and face glistening from the nose down, his chin absolutely soaking wet. “You gonna cum soon ma?”

You don’t even know what you respond with, just that Chris goes back to eating you out, this time, bringing his fingers to your entrance, sliding one finger, then two, into your sopping wet cunt as he licks random paths across your folds, occasionally circling your clit and sucking on it harshly, all while thrusting his fingers in and out of you, causing you to buck your hips up wildly. Your orgasm, only the first one of the night, is fast approaching, and your thighs clench around Chris’ head. The only warning he gets is a sudden yell of his name before you gush all over his face.

“Did you just- did she just squirt?” Chris asks, eyes wide as he takes in the mess that you’d made. His face and neck were now fully wet, and there was a perfectly round wet spot right underneath you. His fingers flutter over your now slightly puffy pussy, watching your folds quiver.

“Fuck, it’s too much- Chris, wait,” you whine, hands moving to grab Chris’ wrist. He doesn’t stop with his ministrations though, fingers pumping in and out of you, prodding at the bundle of nerves inside you that caused your vision to white out. It was fast, intense, and Chris manages to pull a second orgasm out of you before you’d even managed to catch your breath from the first one.

Chris sits up on his knees, reaching his arms behind him and pulling his tank top off, throwing it behind him. He hooks his arms around your thighs before pulling you down the bed, closer to him, allowing Matt to slot himself behind you.

“Can you turn over for me ma?” Chris asks with a gentle pat against your hip. It takes some effort, your limbs feel loose and languid, but you manage to flip onto your stomach. Hands grab your face, tipping your head up, and you see your boyfriend looking at you with a smirk, tongue peeking out to run across his teeth.

“Enjoying yourself, sweetheart?” he asks, voice like dripping honey with a hint of something razor-sharp. “This everything you imagined?”

“Yes- oh god, Matt- I need you, please-”

“You have me baby,” he coos. “You have me and Chris. That’s what you wanted, right? ‘Cause one dick was never enough to keep you satisfied.”

“Ngghh- please, please, I-” you whimper, mouthing at Matt’s dick through his boxers, startled when you feel a sudden smack against your ass, pain blossoming across your skin.

“If she’s already this cock dumb, I wonder how she’s gonna get when we actually get our dicks in her,” Chris wonders out loud with an amused huff, palming at your ass cheeks as he rubs his clothed dick against it.

You continue begging, your pussy soaking wet and clenching around nothing in anticipation for what’s to come, hips arching off the bed while your back dips low, shoulders tucked between Matt’s spread thighs as you lick him through the only piece of fabric that is keeping you from tasting him, from having his cock fill your mouth.

Chris smooths his palm down your back, making you arch your back even further, before he spreads your cheeks, seeing the way you twitch at being put on display.

“I think she’s waited long enough, hasn’t she?” Matt asks Chris, nodding his head slightly as if to tell Chris to get on with it. Chris doesn’t waste any time pushing his sweats down his thighs, freeing his cock. You turn your head back to try and peek at it from over your shoulder, but Matt has a firm hand on your head pushing you towards his crotch while he pulls his dick out of his boxers. With one hand holding the back of your head, and the other around his dick, Matt slaps it against your cheek, amused at the way you so desperately try and get him to guide his cock into your mouth instead.

Simultaneously, Chris is behind you, rubbing the tip of his dick through your folds, gathering the wetness there. Above you, you feel Matt lean towards his dresser, before rifling through the top drawer and chucking something at Chris. There’s a sound of a bottle cap clicking open, and lube being squeezed out, before you hear the squelch of it as Chris spreads it over his dick.

Later, you’ll think they must have planned this head of time, but both Matt and Chris decide to push their dicks into you at the same time, Matt feeding you his cock, pushing past your lips, applying gentle pressure to the back of your head, while Chris spreads your folds apart and drives his dick into you, the tip catching inside you for a moment, before he thrusts his hips and pushes his dick deeper into you.

“Look at that,” Chris says, smacking the palms of both his hands onto your cheeks at the same time, before kneading at them. “She takes dick really fucking well.”

“It’s like she’s made for it, isn’t she?”

Chris fucks you like he has all the time in the world, savoring the feeling of your pussy clenching around him, fascinated by the sight of his dick disappearing in you at every thrust. You stretch around him so beautifully, and you’re so fucking tight, he wonders how he managed to fit it all in you in one go.

At the other end, Matt watches you with soft affection as you suck on his cock, tears streaming down your face from the exertion on your body and minimal air supply. At every thrust of Chris’ hips, you would get pushed closer to Matt, which would push his dick deeper into your mouth, making you almost gag on it.

You have no concept of time anymore, or where your body starts and Chris’ and Matt’s end. You feel like one big mess of limbs, moving fluidly, with the common purpose of chasing your orgasm. You hear Matt’s groans getting louder above you, and you know he’s getting close. You’re not far behind yourself, but Chris still seems like he’s nowhere close to being done.

Pulling your mouth off of Matt’s cock, you circle your hand around the base of it, before stroking your hand up and down, twisting it around the head. You swipe your thumb across the slit at the top while you tongue at the underside of the head, all while looking up at Matt through hooded eyes.

“Cum on my face, Matt, please-” you beg, mouth slightly open, a line of spit connecting your tongue to his dick. Chris' thrusts are picking up, but you keep your elbows planted firmly on the bed below to keep yourself steady for Matt. There’s a tingle building low in your spine, but you focus on Matt, the way he looks at you with his eyebrows furrowed, bottom lip pulled between his teeth. His hair is a mess, and his body is flushed. The hand he has on your head grips your hair tight, and the other joins your hand in pumping his dick. It only takes a few more seconds of that before Matt lets out a loud groan of your name, spurts of thick, hot cum landing across your face, and you close your eyes as it drips down your face, some of it landing on your tongue.

Matt leans back heavily against the headboard, and before you can register anything, you’re being flipped onto your back, face still covered in Matt’s cum. Your shoulders hit Matt’s chest as Chris crowds against you on the bed, his hands now on the back of your knees, pushing your legs back against your chest, before thrusting his dick back into you.

The sudden shift has you blinking back stars, and this new angle has Chris’ dick brushing against your sweet spot on every thrust, and all you can do is sob at the immense pleasure you feel. Matt circles his arms around you, one hand playing with one of your nipples, while the other moves down your stomach and edges closer to your clit. The tingling sensation grows, and grows, your hands scrambling to find purchase on Chris’ shoulders as he thrusts particularly deep into you before you finally snap, screaming as your third orgasm is ripped from you, the force of it pushing Chris’ cock out of you as you squirt all over him, yourself, and the bed, legs shaking uncontrollably.

You’re fully gasping and sobbing now, the intensity of your orgasm wracking through your whole body. You watch through hooded, teary eyes, as Chris leans over you, furiously stroking his cock as he soaks in the view of you, hot and messy, ruined because of him, before he too eventually reaches his orgasm, cum pulsing out of him and landing high on your chest, across your nipples, one spurt even hitting your chin.

The three of you are a heaping mess of limbs after, all basking in the afterglow of a night well spent, tired, but satiated. Matt and Chris lay on either side of you, stroking whatever part of your skin they can reach, occasionally batting each other’s hands away and pulling you closer to either side, like you’re not all squished together already.

“We should do that again sometime,” you say after a long beat of silence. Matt snorts, eyes closed, but the corners of his lips are quirked up in a small smile.

“Y’all are crazy if you think I’m never fucking you again after I just got a taste,” Chris states. “Besides, I think there’s a lot of lost time I need to make up for, hm?”

After that night, Chris gets to have his turn with you, over and over. Sometimes, Matt is present, and the brothers somehow always turn things into a competition of who can make you cum the quickest, who can make you cum multiple times, who can make you absolutely incoherent by the end of the night.

Now Chris had his own reason for always being so chipper in the morning. It helps that he finally gets to fuck the hottest girl he’s seen, who just happens to also be fucking his brother.

author’s note: i put too much fucking effort into an idea that essentially started as a joke, its gonna be so funny if this flops because i literally stayed up till 4 am twice in a row to write this lmao- anyways, let me know what you think! my inbox is open and waiting for your thoughts (: likes, comments and reblogs r much appreciated <3

taglist 🩵 (comment on my pinned post to be added or removed):

@luverboychris @bigbeefybitch @liz-stxrn @slut4chriss @sturniolosgirl @coochiedestroyer1 @kvtie444 @vschrissturn @hercigaretteblush @fwskullz @m4rriii @anabanana28 @sturniolosange1 @webbersturn @odeezier @johnniesrealwife @freshsturns @marlenafortuna @carolineheartsmatthew @incndescentglow @starniolosposts @urfavgirllyyyyy @mattsturniolosworld @lilyloveschris @sturniozo @lookingformyromeo @heartss4matthewq @lanasturniolo @ezziewinchester @s-s-842 @sturnlova @55sturn @chrisopeningabag

#junovrs writes #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo x reader

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slytherinslut0 · 6 months

Text

MATTHEO RIDDLE- Beg For Me

Chapter Twenty Three-Info:you and Mattheo have been butting heads for months, since you were assigned as his tutor, and one day during a session full of tense bickering, he has enough.

(This will essentially be a toxic book where we are Theos fucktoy. No love here, very minimal fluff.)

Tags: 18+, SMUT, Heartbreak, ANGST AF, Dirty Talk, PIV, Praise Kink, Slight Degradation, Semi-Public Sex.

FIND THE REST OF THE CHAPTERS HERE.

"Hello? Anyone home?"

Emily's voice echoed through the air of your dorm room, her eyes widening in disbelief as she took in your drenched appearance. There you stood, next to your bed, trapped in the labyrinth of your thoughts, most likely looking like you had genuinely lost your ever-loving mind.

At last, you jerked your head up, locking eyes with her. "Apologies, Em...I'm just utterly drained. Honestly didn't even hear you come in."

"Why are you absolutely soaked?" Emily's tone switched to an almost amused drawl, one you could tell she was attempting to suppress. Her eyes narrowed as she assessed your waterlogged state. "Weren't you with Mattheo?"

Your cheeks flushed under her scrutiny, and you shifted uncomfortably before responding. "Yeah," you admitted, your tone slightly sheepish. "It's a bit of a story, really...Malfoy essentially dared me to jump in the lake, and, well, I couldn't resist the challenge."

Amusement twinkled in Emily's eyes as she settled onto her bed, her curiosity piqued. "Well, that's one way to make a splash," she quipped, a playful smirk gracing her lips. "So, spill the details. Is there some progress being made with those arsehats?"

You cleared your throat, a nervous smile playing on your lips. "I'm trying," you confessed, your voice laced with uncertainty. "It's a work in progress, but I think we're getting there, slowly but surely."

Emily nodded knowingly, her lips curving into a smirk. "Well, if anyone can handle a bunch of mischievous daredevils, it's you," she remarked, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "Just be careful, yeah?"

"Of course," you replied, managing a meek smile despite the uneasy knot tightening in your chest. "Where were you tonight?”

Almost instantly, Emily's demeanor shifted, her gaze darting away, fixated on her fingers as she nervously twirled her chapstick. "I, uh...I was with Tom," she stammered, her voice trailing off uncertainly.

A sudden wave of realization crashed over you, leaving you feeling as if you were adrift in a stormy sea. Emily was with Tom?

You blinked, struggling to find the right words. "You-"

"I think I like him," she confessed, the words emerging strained, as if pulled through clenched teeth, her eyes avoiding yours. "I...I think I really like him..."

Her confession hung in the air, heavy with tension, sending shockwaves through your entire being. Your heart pounded in your chest, each beat reverberating in the silence that followed. You stood there, motionless, breathless, your mind trying to grasp the reality of her revelation. What on earth was fucking happening?

Sensing your stunned reaction, Emily hurriedly left her bed, closing the distance between you two. Her eyes met yours, filled with regret and apology.

"I'm so incredibly sorry," she began, her words tumbling out in a jumbled mess. "I mean, on the night of the party, we connected, and we kissed, and I haven't been able to shake those feelings since...I know you and Tom have been seeing eachother for a while, and I've felt terrible about this whole situation...I'm the worst friend, and I can't believe I let it get to this point...I just...I understand if you hate me or never want to talk to me again-"

"Emily," you interjected, your voice breaking through the heavy silence, your shock slowly giving way to a strange sense of understanding. Despite the chaos in your own life, you couldn't muster any anger. In fact, her revelation felt like a bizarre twist of fate, a surreal kind of perfect. "Me and Tom...we were never anything...I've never had any genuine feelings for Tom, not like that anyway..." you confessed, your words hanging in the air. "It's okay, Em...it's seriously more than okay."

Her eyes, brimming with guilt, met yours. "No… it isn't," she murmured, her fingers absently pushing a strand of hair off her forehead. "I just...I feel like the world's worst friend...I've been keeping secrets and hiding things from you...and that's not like us...I genuinely bloody hate myself for this…”

Her words hit you like a sledgehammer, the weight of your own secrets crashing down on you. How could you judge her when you were harbouring your own tangled emotions for Mattheo? Guilt clawed at your insides, a bitter reminder of your own deception, making it impossible to feel anything but empathy for Emily's confession.

Gently, your touch on her arm was a soft plea for understanding. "Em, please be kind to yourself," you implored, your voice carrying the weight of your own inner turmoil. "I'm far from perfect, and I completely understand...you don't ever have to be scared to tell me anything, I'll always be on your side..."

The desire to confide in her about Mattheo tugged at your heartstrings, but a tempest of conflicting thoughts raged within you. You longed to unburden yourself, to share the intricacies of your emotions--yet, doubts clouded your mind.

You questioned the wisdom of revealing a truth that seemed destined for heartbreak; one that was destined to go no where, especially after Mattheo's own cautionary words. The fear of shattering the fragile semblance of normalcy you'd managed to maintain held you back, leaving you caught between the honesty you craved and the security of your well-guarded secret.

"You're the greatest friend...I don't deserve you," Emily released a long sigh, meeting your eyes softly. "Are you sure you're not upset? I swear I'll never fucking talk to him again if-"

"No! No, Emily...I'm not upset," you said, through chuckles. You were upset, but it had nothing to do with her. "I want you to be happy, Em...Dumbledore once told me that if someone makes you feel, let them..."

"Gods, that man could make a bloody brick wall tear up," she breathed, finally cracking a smile, as though you'd lifted a weight off her shoulders. "I have to say though...I just don't know how you didn't fall for him...I mean, his fucking eyes alone had me melting..."

You released a breath, unable to swallow your smirk. Yeah, his eyes were beautiful, but only because they served as a reminder of Mattheo's--whose deep brown pools were nothing other than completely fucking captivating.

"I know," you said, your voice distant, lost in your thoughts as you stared into the distance. "Tom is wonderful," you continued, your words almost a whisper, the syllables heavy with unspoken sentiments. "It's just that, my heart...it wasn't in it."

Emily's brows furrowed with realization, her eyes darting across your face as though she could read the unsaid words swirling within your irises. "Where is your heart, then?"

Emily's question hung in the air, patiently awaiting your response, but your thoughts were elsewhere, entirely consumed by Mattheo. His captivating eyes, that tousled brown hair, and his infuriatingly complicated demeanor dominated your mind. Despite his dangerous reputation, he had always been your sanctuary--from the way he protected you to the depths of pleasure he led you to, he ignited desires you were hesitant to acknowledge.

Since the day you met him, you had been drawn in, entangled in a web of emotions you couldn't escape. The fear of succumbing to your desires warred with the undeniable pull he had on your heart, leaving you submerged in a sea of uncertainty, unsure if there was a way out of the depths you had willingly plunged into.

Meeting Emily's eyes, you could only confess, "I don't know," your voice tinged with desperation, as if seeking an answer that seemed just out of reach. "I...I have no fucking idea anymore..."

Her face dropped, shock etching lines across her features as she took a few delicate steps back, studying your face intensely. The intensity of her scrutiny made you nervous, your heart pounding so loudly you could almost hear it. You knew she had just realized precisely what the fuck was going on with you lately. You knew she'd finally fucking cracked your code.

You looked away, unable to maintain eye contact, and in a hushed tone, she said, "oh, Gods no...you...he's-he's such an asshole..."

"Yes, he is..." tension gripped your entire being, your body vibrating with nausea as you struggled to find the words. You couldn't bring yourself to meet Emily's eyes, your gaze fixed on the floor as you whispered, "but there's still good in him..."

Emily's eyes widened in disbelief, her shock palpable as she struggled to comprehend your words. "You're going to destroy yourself trying to fix him," she said, her voice edged with desperation. A heavy pause filled the room before she continued, her voice quivering, "He's done terrible things, remember when he sent that poor third year into the infirmary-"

"We've all done terrible things, haven't we?" you shot back, finally looking up at her. The intensity in your gaze matched the fierce determination in your voice. "We're all just sinners judging sinners for sinning differently, but no one ever bloody stops to ask why..."

Your steps were slow, but deliberate, each one echoing with the resonance of your unwavering determination as you closed some of the distance between you and Emily. The intensity in your eyes burned brightly, reflecting the depth of your emotions.

You were acutely aware of how utterly insane you must sound, how irrational and illogical your words might appear to her. Yet, in the depths of your heart, you longed for her understanding, for her to grasp the complexities that lay beneath the surface. You yearned for her to realize that there was a profound depth to your emotions, a truth far more intricate than what met the eye.

"Yeah, maybe he's bad...maybe he's completely fucking terrible," you said, your voice carrying a potent mix of fervor and defiance. "But when he smiles…when I look into his stupid, big eyes...all I see is the good in him..."

A profound silence hung in the air, pregnant with the weight of your words. You gauged Emily's reaction, observing the flicker of disbelief and uncertainty that played across her features.

"I made a promise...to Dumbledore...to myself...to Mattheo," you continued, your voice unwavering, each syllable resonating with unshakable resolve. "A promise that I'd fucking stand by him...that I'd show him patience and compassion...who would I be if I gave up on that?"

"Yeah, but..." Emily's eyes widened, her throat tightening as she struggled to find words to counter your conviction. "He's...he's a monster..."

"He's broken," you retorted, your tone unyielding, the depth of your empathy for Mattheo underscoring your words. "I don't care what happens to me, Em...I am a woman of my word..."

Emily swallowed. "Your heart is far too pure...your heart is going to ruin your future..."

"So be it." You said, flatly, steeling your shoulders as you released a long breath. "I am coming for all the ghosts that have ever haunted him...I am coming for all the demons that twisted his dreams and turned him into the fucking nightmare that he is, and I am going to be theirs, instead."

Without waiting for Emily's response, you brushed past her, your heart racing with anxiety over the fact that you had essentially revealed the truth about your relationship with Mattheo. The weight of your confession hung heavy on your shoulders, but you needed to clear your head. Silently, you made your way out of the dormitory, the echo of your footsteps reverberating in the empty corridor.

The familiar path to the prefects' washroom felt like a lifeline, leading you to the one person who could provide the reassurance you craved. Just as you made your way into the hall, the door creaked open, and a familiar brunette exited, her sly grin sending a shiver down your spine as her eyes met yours. Recognition struck you like a lightning bolt--it was the girl from the library, the one who had been intimately close to Mattheo all those weeks ago. As she disappeared from your view, your stomach plummeted, anxiety tightening into a nauseating knot.

With your heart heavy and anxiety clawing at your throat, you mustered the strength to push open the door. Inside, you found Mattheo, leaning wearily against the sink. His eyes, usually filled with intensity, were dulled by fatigue. His head was bowed, and his shoulders slumped, burdened by the weight of unseen struggles. He remained fully dressed, his appearance reflecting the weariness that mirrored your own inner turmoil.

"What was that?" you questioned, your voice trembling, and your chin quivering with vulnerability, your eyes pleading for an explanation that might soothe the turmoil within. "I thought we were okay?"

The sight of that girl leaving the washroom shattered the reassurance you had desperately sought. Doubts consumed you, racing through your mind like a storm. Had your recent fight driven that big of a wedge between you and Mattheo? Was he seeking solace in someone else's company because he was done with you? The questions multiplied, suffocating you with uncertainty. Your voice emerged as a cracked whisper, breaking the tense silence that hung between you both as Mattheo slowly met your eyes.

"Are we ever bloody okay, Raven?" His voice, laced with a tinge of exhaustion, fell flat, his eyes dark and cold as they bored into you. The endless depths of his gaze seemed impenetrable, hiding any flicker of emotion that might have offered solace. "I'm not even sure what you're going on about, truthfully,"

"The girl," your voice wavered, your vulnerability laid bare, "the same one from the library all that time ago...I just saw her leaving."

Mattheo grumbled irritably, the tension in the room palpable as he pushed off from the sink with a heavy sigh, his movements betraying his exasperation. He spun around, the muscles in his jaw clenched, his eyes stormy with frustration as he leaned back against the counter. His arms crossed over his chest defensively, his entire posture radiating a mix of annoyance and defiance.

"That girl is nothing to me, Raven," he declared, his voice low and gravelly, the words carrying a hint of irritation as he tried to emphasize his point. "Nothing at all."

You desperately wanted to believe him, to cling to his words like a lifeline, but doubt gnawed at your insides, poisoning your thoughts. After everything that had transpired between you, after your last fight, and the way he was acting now, you couldn't simply brush it aside.

"Nothing, huh?" Your voice grew firmer, laced with a mixture of hurt and skepticism. "So it's just a coincidence that you two were alone in here...and that she was grinning ear to ear when she left..."

Mattheo blinked, his surprise evident as he processed your words. This jealousy was uncharacteristic of you, a stark deviation from your usual composed self. His features contorted with a mixture of confusion and frustration, his eyes narrowing and jaw clenching in response to your accusation.

"Do you think I fucked her, Raven?" His words hung in the charged atmosphere, heavy with hurt and disbelief. Each syllable cut through the air, a searing venom that struck your heart like a dagger. "Do you actually fucking think that low of me?"

The raw pain in his eyes mirrored your own, a painful reflection of the trust that had been shattered between you, the wounds now gaping wide open, begging for resolution.

"You don't trust me..." Mattheo's expressions hardened further, his eyes blazing with a mixture of frustration and hurt. The room seemed to shrink around you as he pushed off from the sink, his movements deliberate and forceful, closing the distance between you before you could react. "You don't fucking trust me, do you?"

You tensed, every muscle in your body coiling like a tightly wound spring, bracing for the emotional storm that was about to engulf you. Mattheo stopped abruptly, his instincts sensing your reaction, his intense gaze locking onto yours. Your breathing became shallow, your chest constricted, and time seemed to stretch into eternity as you stood there, suspended in the moment.

"I want to..." your voice wavered, a fragile whisper barely audible in the heavy silence, carrying the weight of your longing and doubt. "But...I just...can't, when there you are...directly in front of me, still so fucking far away..."

You took a moment to study his features, the turmoil in his eyes, the tension in his jaw, and the vulnerability that flickered beneath his anger. His chest rose and fell with every ragged breath, as though his heart was laid bare before you.

"A man with a shield for a heart, and a sword for a tongue," you continued, your voice a fragile thread weaving through the charged air. "How do I confide in that?"

Mattheo's eyes softened, just slightly, the storm within them giving way to a glimmer of sincerity. In that moment, he shed every ounce of hesitation, closing the space between you with an urgency that spoke volumes. His hands found your face, cupping it gently, forcing your eyes to meet his. The intensity in his touch, the tenderness in his gaze, told a story of its own.

"Raven...do you think I fucking care about anything other than you?" His voice, once sharp with frustration, now held a raw, earnest sincerity that cut through the lingering doubts and insecurities. "You're the only one I need...you're the only one that keeps me high..."

Your heart thundered in your chest, the sound echoing in your ears like a war drum, each beat reverberating with the intensity of his touch. His palms, warm against your cool skin, sent waves of heat through every inch of your body, cocooning you in a haze of desire and vulnerability. You blinked, your eyes unable to tear away from the depth of his stare.

"But?" you dared to whisper, your voice barely audible amidst the charged silence, the lump in your throat growing with each passing second. "I know you aren't finished, I see it in your expression..."

He stiffened, his hands slowly falling from your face, the loss of his touch leaving a void. His gaze, dark and intense, traced a path from your eyes down to your lips, the unspoken longing palpable between your bodies. The pain that hung in the air was almost tangible, the emotions that coursed through both of you reaching a fever pitch.

"When you close your eyes...when you think of this...of us, what do you see?" He whispered, his voice a mere breath, the words hanging in the air like a delicate thread. "Do you see a future, Raven?"

The question slammed into your lungs like a sledgehammer, stealing the very air from your chest. You had never truly considered what was going to happen at the end of the school year, but it was evident that he had, his eyes haunted by the uncertainty of the future.

You sucked in a lungful of breath, trapping it there, the oxygen feeling suffocating against the weight of his question. "I...I don't know..."

"Exactly," he murmured, his voice as soft as a breeze, but carrying the weight of an entire universe. "Something's telling me we're running out of time here, Raven...I always said I'd never deserve you, and I meant that..." he paused, averting his eyes only for a moment as he threaded an unsteady hand through his hair. "If we keep this going...something's bound to give...I can't let you throw away your future for me..."

You stalled, pain rushing through you. This whirlwind of emotions felt like a chaotic storm, each moment with him a battle between your hearts, oscillating from fiery arguments to heartbreaking distance. The constant push and pull had left you emotionally battered, but this time, the pain cut deeper than ever before.

"No...Mattheo...I..." your voice stammered, trembling with the intensity of your emotions. "I would much rather be nowhere with you, than somewhere without you..."

He stiffened, his entire being seeming to freeze in response to your words. "No, Raven, come on...don't fucking say that," he hissed, his voice laced with desperation. "You will not throw away your future for me...for whatever this is...you have to know that is fucking insane..."

"Mattheo, why?" you whispered, your voice breaking as you took a step closer, your heart aching with the weight of his decision. "Why are you doing this...I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry for everything I said...I didn't-"

"It's not about that," he cut you off, his tone soft yet resolute. "It's not about any of that. We both know this only ends in blood...why prolong it...I’d never be able to live with myself if I ruined everything you’ve worked so hard for…”

Your chest ached, a visceral pain that radiated through every fiber of your being, your eyes darting all over his face as though seeking solace in the contours of his skin, as if something tangible could save you from this nightmare. He was right. Of course, he was absolutely fucking right. There was nothing you could say to deny his words, the harsh reality of your situation hanging heavy between you.

"I know you're right Mattheo," gently, you brought a trembling hand up to his face, your thumb brushing over his cheek as you cupped the side of his head, your own head tilting slightly as you glimpsed his lips, whispering with a vulnerability that laid bare your soul. "But even if it's meant to fall apart...I still fucking want you..."

"I know," he murmured, his breath warm against your skin, his lips hovering just millimeters from yours. "I fucking know..."

"I'm scared as bloody hell, Mattheo..." you continued, your fingers digging slightly into his skin, his hands seeking refuge on your hips as he pulled you closer against him. "I'm fucking terrified to want you, yet here I am anyway..."

"I'm scared too, Raven..." he confessed, his voice barely audible, pulling you impossibly closer, your bodies melding into one another. "Godric fucking forbid I ever admit it..."

His lips brushed against yours, soft and tender, a delicate touch that held the weight of a thousand unspoken words. In that moment, you knew, without a shadow of doubt, that you two were one and the fucking same. He was more yourself than you ever were. Whatever your souls were made of, his and yours were intertwined in an indescribable connection.

"Give me this before you go..." you whispered, your free hand gripping his shirt for dear life, your voice laced with desperation and longing. "Please..."

Mattheo pulled back slightly, his eyes scanning your face, searching for any sign of hesitation or uncertainty. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," without a moment's hesitation, you nodded, your eyes locked onto his, your conviction unwavering. "I'm sure."

In an instant, he pulled you back into him, his lips crashing onto yours in a searing kiss, the intensity mirroring the state of your crumbling relationship. His hands, strong and sure, quickly slithered up your sides, finding the buttons on your shirt.

Simultaneously, your trembling fingers mirrored his movements, undoing his shirt with a fervor that matched his own. The kiss deepened, your mouths melding together in a desperate attempt to drown out the world, seeking solace in each other's touch as you shed the barriers between you. The passion between your bodies consumed every ounce of your being, a wild, untamed force that pushed back against the chaos threatening to tear you apart.

As soon as the two of you were freed of your uniforms, Mattheo pulled back, his gaze intense, his eyes smouldering against your skin as he urged you to your knees in front of him. Without a word, you obeyed, staring up at him with a widened gaze, tracing the features of his face and chest that you admittedly loved so fucking much. Mattheo's eyes were doing the same, flickering over your curves, the swell of your breasts, the flare of your hips, until finally, they came to rest between your legs.

“You’re fucking beautiful…” he brought a hand up to your chin, tilting your head back to bring your eyes to his, the pad of his rough thumb tracing over your bottom lip, tugging it down slightly before releasing it. “Don’t you think I’d chose some other bitch over you ever fucking again.”

Breath evaporated as he dropped down to his knees in front of you without warning, directing you to lay back, your head resting on a stack of clean towels.

The cool tile of the floor made your back arch and your body shudder as Mattheo loomed over you, his fingers tracing delicate patterns over your thighs as he hovered mere inches above your skin. Each touch was soft, almost reverent, as though he was worshipping every inch of your body. As he leant down to kiss you, his lips were tender yet demanding, his tongue sweeping over yours in a fierce, fiery embrace. You groaned into his mouth, your hands finding his hair and gripping tightly, until he broke the kiss and began to move lower.

His eyes travelled down your neck, reaching your chest where your breasts rose and fell with each exasperated, eager breath. His mouth descended upon one of them, suckling and teasing with skillful precision, making your head dizzy with burning need. It was as though he was worshipping at a sacred alter, paying homage to the very essence of your womanhood, his nails digging into your skin, chaining you to him with more restraint than any bloody shackles ever could.

His tongue traced spirals around your nipple, sending little shocks of electricity straight through to your core, and you mewled, back arching into him and grip tightening in his hair, silently begging for more. As expected, Mattheo delivered, lavishing attention on each peak in turn, flicking his tongue, sucking, and teasing until you were practically crying for release.

"Matty...please…" you whispered as his lips moved lower, tracing a path of heat toward your sex. "There's no time...someone could come in..."

"Eager girl..." Mattheo hummed, smirking against your skin. "Told you you'd love the way I fuck you."

Unable to suppress it, you smirked at his normal arrogance as he pulled back slowly, your eyes following his every move as he freed himself; letting loose that delicious, familiar groan from deep in his throat as he pumped his shaft a few times, his gaze darting over your body, desperate and writhing beneath him--each meticulous movement he made causing an insatiable tingle within your core.

"Mhm," you murmured, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth as your hands grazed over his strong biceps, feeling the muscle tense and contract beneath your touch. "That's what I love...the way you fuck me..."

Mattheo blinked, meeting your eyes, a wicked smile creeping across his lips as he processed what you'd just said. The underlying message in your words went unspoken despite their intentions hanging heavy in the air, and without a word, he slid his free hand down between your legs, shifting your panties to the side before he gently teased and swirled over your clit, making you moan out his name without even realizing it.

"My filthy little girl..." the anticipation was almost unbearable, you were fucking dripping for him and he'd hardly even touched you. "Always so fucking eager for me…”

Inching forward, he aligned himself with your core, leaning down over you, a strong arm taking purchase beside your head, caging you beneath him. As he pushed inside you, the stretch was unlike anything you'd ever fucking felt--the lack of foreplay resulting in a sensation unlike anything else, a perfect blend of agony and ecstasy, as if he was stretching you open and shaping you just for him.

You whimpered softly, doing your best to muffle your noises as Mattheo pushed deeper and deeper, pausing for a moment once he'd fully seated himself inside your heat, giving you a second to adjust to his thick, throbbing length--his eyes never once left yours, his gaze drilling into you as he assessed your reactions, only breaking the eye contact to press a soft kiss to your forehead.

"So fucking tight...fuck-you feel so fucking good..." Mattheo growled lowly, his voice thick with lust--your walls clenching and relaxing around him simultaneously. "Such a good girl, Raven...feel yourself adjust for me, baby."

His voice had a hypnotic effect on you, calming your racing heart and making you focus solely on the feelings coursing through your body. The pain was gone, a mere figment of your imagination as you revelled in the closeness of your bodies, his hot skin on yours, breathing eachother in, your mind reeling with the thoughts of this being the last time--something you'd both said many times before.

But for some reason, this time felt different. This time felt real.

"Fuck me, Matty..." you whispered, nails digging into his back as if trying to anchor yourself to this moment, to him. "Fuck me like you're going to lose me."

"Fuck...am I, Raven?" Mattheo groaned in response, meeting your eyes with an intensity that took your breath away, slowly beginning to increase his pace to your desires. "Am I going to fucking lose you?"

Mattheo's thrusts became harder and more aggressive as his movements grew more frenzied, his mind getting lost in the haze of lust swirling between you. The sounds of his skin slapping against yours filled the room, matching the sound of his heavy breathing, a whirlwind of emotions coursing through the air.

"N-no, Matty..." you choked, feeling the pleasure building within you like a storm waiting to break. It was almost too much, and you found tears on the verge of exploding from your fucking eyes. "You couldn't...even if you tried..."

"Fuck...I know..." he hissed, the words forced through gritted teeth as he met your eyes, your nails certainly splitting the skin on his back, shredding it raw. "I always know exactly how you feel when I'm deep inside you like this...those eyes don't fucking lie..."

You gasped, the words unable to form as Mattheo pulled out almost completely before slamming back in, hitting that deep place inside your body that made you cry out in toe-curling pleasure. His face was twisted into an intense frown, growling in concentration as he fucked you harder, faster, hitting places you didn't know possible.

"You love this cock, don't you?" Mattheo growled, knowing full well the answer. "You're so fucking wet for me."

"Oh...yes, I do-" you squealed, burying your reddened face back into the crook of his shoulder, pleasure ricocheting through every ounce of your body as his fingers slid down your stomach, quickly teasing over your clit. "Fuck-Matty...oh..."

"You want to cum for me, pretty girl?" he growled, nibbling at your earlobe as he shifted his position, drilling deeper into you. "Let me feel you..."

"I-I want..." the words wouldn't form. Nothing would articulate inside your brain. Yes, you wanted release, but that's not what you were trying to say here. You wanted him, you wanted this, you wanted all of it, never to end. But as he swirled your clit with rough, aggressive strokes, your brain was mush, succumbing to nothing but his touch. "I-I want you...in...I-"

"I'm in you, Raven..." a grunt when he slammed into you--his voice tight, strained, almost pained, lips pressed against your temple. "I'm so fucking deep in you..."

Another shift, and he was striking your cervix with every thrust--and the pain was enough to pop the balloon in your chest. Tears streamed down your cheeks, the pending heartache and insecurity finally breaking through the dam of emotions you had kept bottled up for months. The weight of it all was too much, overwhelming you in a tidal wave of despair. Mattheo's movements remained unyielding, his pace unfaltering, but he was swift to kiss away your tears, his own breath hitched in anticipation of the climax that was about to consume both of you.

"Oh-fuck...Matty..." only a few more thrusts, and you were there, teetering right on the edge of coming undone. “Oh…”

He growled. “Cum for me angel…fuck-“

"Yes-yes, fuck..." you keened, dragged through your climax without question, euphoria tearing through you as your walls pulsed and milked his cock.

He groaned, gripping you tighter as he poured himself into you, hips bucking until the only sensation left was sweaty, heaving, post-orgasmic rapture. And despite that, you held each other, unwilling to move, unwilling to let the other person leave the safety of the embrace.

It was a long moment--long after your breathing had returned to normal, long after you'd both dripped sweat onto each other's skin--before he moved, rolling off of you, gaze roaming your figure. You wiped your damp cheeks with the back of your hand, not daring to make eye contact with him as the two of you slowly began to redress, an awkward silence filling the air.

After both of you had regained modesty, Mattheo’s eyes locked onto yours, his unspoken emotions echoing in the intensity of his gaze. Without uttering a single word, he pulled you into him, his arms enveloping your body, holding you with a grip that felt as if he never wanted to let go, suffocating your lungs in the best way possible. As his hand moved to cup the back of your head, his fingers intertwining into your hair, you felt his throat bobbing against your temple as he swallowed, his vulnerability laid bare in the gentle caress of his touch.

“That girl,” his voice was a low murmur, as though he feared shattering the fragile moment, “she asked me to the masquerade this weekend…I said no.”

You chewed your cheek, your fingers clinging onto his shirt with force, your voice trembling as you responded, “You should go...it might be good to redirect the attention off of us…your friends seem suspicious.”

“Oh, they are…” he chuckled, his hand absentmindedly petting your hair, his touch comforting and reassuring. “But I told Nott to ask you, and only Nott, so if any of the others approach you about it, let me know.”

Your cheeks burned at the revelation, his laughter vibrating through your body, your heart skipping a beat in response. “You told Nott to ask me to the masquerade? Why?”

“He’s the only one I trust not to be a fucking pig,” he replied, his tone flat and honest. “Pretty sure Zabini or Malfoy would try to get you under them before the night even started.”

You huffed, a smirk playing on your lips as you pressed against his chest. Taking a moment to revel in his scent, his cologne, his body heat.

“Is this really it for us, Mattheo?” you murmured, your voice laced with a hint of desperation. “I mean…am I just supposed to be your friend, now? Your mentor? Your tutor?”

“Maybe we just take a break, hm?” he suggested, his voice dropping, his gaze softening as he met your eyes. “Maybe just until the suspicion dies off…until we both have had some time to cool down.”

“I…okay,” you said, your eyelids fluttering as he released you, the weight of the situation sinking in. “I can work with that.”

The acceptance in your voice was laden with bittersweet resignation, a temporary reprieve in the face of an uncertain future.

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Chapter 24->

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