(a/n — this has been sitting in my notes for like 2 months lol. it's super short and i'm not very proud of it but here it is anyways...)
you allow your eyes to traverse across his features; unbridled anger swirls in his eyes and his jaw is so tightly clenched that you're sure it must hurt. he was shouting, you'd surmised, though his words were nothing but background noise to you as you continued your boundless journey of weaving through your enemies features.
you're broken from your reverie when his tone shifts an octave lower. "merlin y/n, are you even listening to me?" his voice drips with venom as he peers down at you. he's towering over you and you find yourself wishing desperately that you were taller.
"oh yeah, of course i was. i particularly liked the part where you referred to me as... what was it?" you take a dramatic pause as you pretend to rack your brain for the words he had spoken earlier. your eyebrows raise in mock realization, "oh yeah.. an attention seeking whore. don't know how i could've possibly forgotten that one," you let out a humorless chuckle.
he scoffs at your words and slowly walks closer to you, the height difference becoming more prominent with each steps he takes. "yeah well, maybe if you weren't so desperate for attention, i wouldn't have called you that."
you stare up at him in defiance, allowing his intimidation to spur you on further, "don't make me laugh, riddle. you're with a new girl every day. besides, why the fuck do you even care?"
he smirks, "been paying that close attention to me, have you? that why you were all over that guy? trying to make me jealous?" his voice is laced with cockiness and you have no control over the loud laugh you let out.
surprise flashes in his eyes at the sound of your laugh— it's gone as soon as it appears, but you l still notice it. you suppose he's not used to being laughed at by members of the female population— stuck up prick.
your laughter simmers down. "you really are amazing you know that, riddle?" you stare up at him, your tone shifting to a more serious one, "you seriously think i was flirting with him to get to you?"
you let out an incredulous scoff.
"merlin, riddle, it's a fucking party, i was having fun," you let out an exasperated sigh, "unlike you, or any of the girls that choose to associate themselves with you, i actually possess an ounce of self respect. if i flirt with a guy it's because i want to"
"so what? you flirted with that guy because you... like him?" he's simmered down a bit, though his tone is just as harsh.
you can't help but let out a smile, it's far from kind, but it's a smile nonetheless, "who's the jealous one now, matty?"
it takes one second for him to bridge the gap between you and another to press you against the wall. the look in his eyes is feral, he looks like a starved animal and if you didn't have as much pride as you did, you think you'd admit that the way looked down at you scared you a little.
"mattheo—"
your words are cutt off by the press of his lips against yours. it's harsh and raw and there's nothing gentle in his movements when he presses himself further into you and attacks your lips with more ferocity than he's ever shown you in the six years that you've spent bickering with him.
you want to push him away, you think. you want to knee him in the groin and scream at him for touching you this way. you want to claw at his skin till it starts— did he just bite your fucking lip?
you have control over the moan you let out at the feeling of his teeth puncturing your skin and mattheo fucking growls. the sound is guttural and downright animalistic and the feeling of it reverberating against you has you letting out an embarrassingly high pitched moan. all thoughts about pushing him away vanish and you reciprocate his kiss with vehemency that rivaled his own.
the kiss is sloppy and saliva-filled, his hands are all over your body and he's gripping you so tight it almost hurts. heat is rushing through your entire body and you have no control over yourself when you buck your hips into his.
he groans— loud. you have no time to revel in the feeling of it against you though, because his touch is gone faster than you can blink.
he takes an immediate step back from you and against your better judgment, your body follows his own like a moth to a flame.
"y/n, please," he practically croaks out before you can get too close to him— he sounds pained, as though he's forcing himself to keep his distance from you.
"what's wrong?" you can't help the slight quiver in your voice, "did i d—"
"y/n," he cuts you off
you look up at him, your eyes are pleading— you want to kiss him again, feel his hands on your body, you want him press you against the wall and ravage you.
"do you not... want me?" your voice is soft and you pray he doesn't hear the quiver in it.
you think you hear him whisper something along the lines of, 'fuck it', but before your brain can even comprehend his words, he has you slammed against the wall.
—end
