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theo gets turned on when you sit on his lap

it starts off casual. you’re settled into his lap in the slytherin common room, his arm heavy and possessive around your waist, your back pressed to his chest. he looks calm to everyone else, unreadable as always, but you can feel the way his fingers twitch against your side every time you move.

you shift a little closer, adjusting your position, and that’s when you feel it. hard and insistent beneath you. his body goes rigid. his jaw clenches.

you tilt your head up to look at him, lips parting to whisper something teasing, but the look on his face shuts you up instantly. his eyes are dark, blown wide with want, his teeth digging into his bottom lip like he’s holding himself together by a thread.

“don’t,” he mutters under his breath, low enough that only you hear. his grip tightens at your waist, almost painful, like he’s anchoring himself. “don’t move. please.”

your heart kicks up. because he’s aching, aching in a way that’s so obvious now it makes your stomach twist hot. his thighs shift under yours, restless, his breath shaky as it fans against the side of your neck.

the others around you laugh about something, completely oblivious, and you realize he’s barely hanging on.

“fuck,” he breathes harshly, burying his face against your shoulder to hide the sound. “you’re killing me.”

and when you glance down, you see the way his knuckles whiten where he grips your waist, the subtle grind of his hips you know he can’t control anymore. he’s desperate, aching, his whole body begging for relief, and you can feel every ounce of it pressed into you.

his lips brush your ear, voice wrecked, broken. “we need to go. now.”

he’s got that look in his eye again. lazy, smug, just a little too knowing. like he can read every thought off your face and he’s taking his sweet time ruining them one by one.

“what?” he murmurs, soft lips brushing your jaw, “you don’t like when i take my time?”

his hips roll slow, deep, maddening. you clench around him without meaning to and he groans low, proud of himself. always is.

you try to push your hips up to meet him, to chase more. faster, harder, something, but his hand is already there, pinning you down by the waist.

“mm-mm,” he hums, almost sweet, “told you, baby. slow tonight. wanna feel you fall apart real gentle for me.”

you whimper, frustrated, fingers digging into his shoulders. he just smiles, all dimples and arrogance, like this is his favorite kind of torture. because it is. because you always get so needy when he’s like this. all whiny and wet and pissed off.

“that little pout’s not gonna help you,” he teases, mouth dragging down your neck. “you know i’ll keep going like this ‘til you’re crying for it.”

and fuck, you almost do. the drag of him is perfect, too perfect. every slow, deliberate stroke has your thighs shaking, heat curling in your gut, and he hasn’t even touched you anywhere else yet.

“lorenzo—” you gasp, voice breaking, “please.”

he leans in close, nose brushing yours, breath hot as he says, “please what, baby? you gotta tell me.”

you glare at him, or try to, but your body betrays you, grinding up into him, desperate. and he loves it. smirks like he’s already won. because he has.

“that’s what i thought,” he mutters, pressing in deep, hips grinding slow and heavy like he’s got nowhere to be. “just relax. let me take care of you.”

you hate how good it feels. hate how he knows your body better than you do. hate that he’s right, slow’s gonna break you faster than anything.

and lorenzo?

he’s gonna enjoy every second of it.

theo needs u to be quiet

theo had you pressed against the dusty shelves, his hand clasped over your mouth as he buried himself deep inside you. the library was silent except for the quiet creak of old wood and the muffled gasps slipping past his fingers.

"gonna have to be real quiet, baby," he murmured against your ear, his voice low, teasing. "unless you want filch to find you like this. bent over, taking my cock like a good girl."

your fingers clutched at the bookshelf, nails digging into the wood as theo thrust into you slow and deep, making sure you felt every inch. his free hand slipped under your skirt, gripping your thigh before dragging up to press against your stomach.

"can feel me right here," he muttered, pressing down slightly, making you whimper into his palm. "so fucking tight. you like this, don't you? getting fucked where anyone could walk in."

you nodded desperately, eyes rolling back as he picked up his pace, each stroke knocking the breath from your lungs.

"shh," theo smirked, his own breath hitching as he felt you clench around him. "keep quiet for me, baby. don’t wanna get caught, do you?"

but with the way he was fucking you, deep, relentless, making your legs shake, you weren’t sure how long you could hold it in.

theo + morning wood

the sun barely filters through the curtains, casting a golden glow over the room. the soft hum of the world waking up outside contrasts with the warmth of the bed, the slow rise and fall of theo’s chest against your back.

he stirs before you do, his arm tightening around your waist, pulling you closer. his breath is hot against your neck, lazy and deep, still half-asleep as he presses himself against you.

you feel it immediately—hard and heavy against the curve of your ass, the unmistakable proof of his morning arousal.

a smirk tugs at your lips. “already?” your voice is thick with sleep, teasing, but you don’t move away.

theo groans, nuzzling into your shoulder, his voice rough and gravelly. “can’t help it.” his hand slides under your shirt, fingers tracing slow, lazy circles against your skin. “you’re warm. soft. always feel so fucking good.”

his hips roll forward, just enough to make you shiver.

you press back against him, just to tease, but the way his grip tightens, the way his breath hitches, it flips something inside of you.

“gonna take care of me?” his lips brush against your ear, voice barely above a whisper, thick with sleep and want.

your stomach flutters, heat pooling low in your belly as you reach back, guiding him between your thighs. he groans at the wetness waiting for him, hips rutting against you with more urgency.

“fuck, baby—”

he doesn’t even bother pulling your underwear off, just pushes them aside, the head of his cock sliding through your slick folds, teasing.

you whimper, pressing back against him, and that’s all it takes, he sinks in slow, stretching you open inch by inch, a low groan rumbling in his chest as he buries himself to the hilt.

“shit,” theo exhales, his forehead pressing against your shoulder, his fingers gripping your hip so tight you know you’ll feel it later.

he doesn’t rush. doesn’t need to.

his thrusts are slow, deep, lazy, like he’s savoring the way you feel around him.

your fingers clutch the sheets, your breath hitching with every roll of his hips. “theo—”

he hushes you, lips pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses to the side of your neck, his free hand sneaking under your shirt to palm at your chest.

“feels so good like this,” he murmurs, voice thick with sleep and pleasure.

you can only nod, your body melting into his, the slow drag of him inside you sending sparks down your spine.

he groans, his pace faltering for a moment as your walls flutter around him, his hips pressing flush against yours.

“love waking up like this,” he mutters, biting down on your shoulder, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing slow, teasing circles. “gonna let me make you come, baby?”

you can only whimper, nodding frantically, and theo chuckles, his hips snapping just a little harder, his fingers working you just right.

and that’s all it takes.

pleasure crashes over you, white-hot and dizzying, your whole body tensing as you come undone around him.

theo groans, burying himself deep, his own release following right after, his body trembling as he spills inside you, warm and thick.

the two of you lay there, tangled up in each other, his arm still wrapped around you, his breathing slowing as he presses a sleepy kiss to your jaw.

“mm,” he hums, smirking against your skin. “best way to wake up.”

you huff out a laugh, still trying to catch your breath.

“better get used to it.”

mattheo takes care of u

mattheo’s hands are gentle as they work the shampoo through your hair, fingers massaging your scalp in slow, soothing circles. the warm water runs down your back, the scent of vanilla and something faintly musky filling the air—his shampoo, because he insisted on using his.

“you always make such a mess of yourself,” he murmurs, amusement lacing his voice. his knuckles graze the back of your neck as he tilts your head slightly, making sure he gets every bit of soap worked in.

you hum, eyes fluttering shut, sinking deeper into the bath. “m’not that bad.”

mattheo chuckles, pressing a kiss to your temple, fingers still combing through the suds. “you’ve got ink on your wrist, sugar. and… is that flour on your cheek?”

your lips twitch, but you don’t argue. instead, you lean into his touch, letting him take care of you. he rinses your hair slowly, using his hands to pour the warm water over your head, careful not to let it drip into your eyes.

when he’s done, he strokes a wet strand away from your face, his dark eyes soft as they take you in. “there,” he murmurs. “all clean.”

you smile up at him, tugging him down by the collar of his shirt. “you take such good care of me.”

his lips curl into a smirk as he brushes his nose against yours. “someone’s gotta keep you in line.”

you laugh, pulling him in for a kiss, the water sloshing slightly as you move. mattheo doesn’t mind. if anything, he’s already thinking about how he’s gonna get just as messy as you.

theo loves when u scratch his back

theo’s always been quiet in bed, low groans, shaky exhales, the occasional curse murmured against your skin. but when your nails drag down his back? that’s when you get a reaction.

his jaw clenches, a sharp hiss slipping through his teeth as he thrusts deeper, harder. “fuck—do that again.”

you do, digging your nails in just enough to leave faint red trails along his skin, and his head drops to your shoulder, breath hot against your neck.

“merlin—” his voice is rough, wrecked, and you feel the way his muscles tense beneath your touch, like he’s barely holding on. “you tryna kill me, sweetheart?”

you smile, pressing your lips to his temple. “you like it.”

he doesn’t deny it. just groans, shoving his face into the crook of your neck as he fucks into you, desperate, chasing that high.

and when he finally comes, his back is covered in thin, angry lines, evidence of just how good you made him feel. evidence he’ll still feel tomorrow. evidence he’ll want again and again.

theodore nott

theo loves when u scratch his back

theo + morning wood

theo needs u to be quiet

theo gets turned on when you sit on his lap

mattheo riddle

mattheo taking care of u

blaise zabini

lorenzo berkshire

lorenzo wants it slow