lov3notts-recs - Tumblr blog

lov3notts-recs · 2 days ago

Text

"Besides," you continued, finishing up your soup, "we've been holding hands for, like, the past fifteen minutes."

how did this even happen, it’s so cute 😩

"I don't even have a camera or anything." "But I do. Smile."

Theo was blinded by a flash from Mattheo's camera from behind you.

he so quick with it 😭

Theo stopped. The realisation hit him like a ton of bricks.

"WAIT - talk - coffee - yes, Y/N, YE-"

sometimes he really is dense, but that just makes him even more attractive

fml (a Manchild by Sabrina Carpenter inspired fic)

you rope theo into going to a party with you and accidentally fall for his juvenile mannerisms (theo nott x ravenclaw!reader)

a/n - decided to polish this up and publish it in honour of the man's best friend announcement!! I know how controversial the title and cover art has been but i have Thoughts about it if anyone wants to hear them/discuss hehe (I rlly need to stop using this as my sabrina sideblog help) also lets pretend u can actually see shit from alllll the way up in the Ravenclaw towers and the 'decent' joke is (quite obviously) plagiarised from tumblr I think, I did not come up with that lmao

tropes/warnings - fluff, comedy, technicallyyy fake dating? but it's not the focus here

word count - 3.7k

taglist - @kandralice @justme989898 @iamheretoread1234 @allie-sturns @hzdhrtss @friedfreyfries @bushnellswife @rose-of-the-grave @thaliashifts @pariahsparadise @babene-e @fratbrochrisgf @user089167

Theo pushed his hair off his clammy forehead for the hundredth time that morning. He was long overdue for a haircut he kept forgetting about except on mornings like these, when his overly long fringe kept falling in his eyes during the laps he ran with the rest of the Quidditch team around the perimeter of the pitch. It was barely 9 am when most students were still enjoying breakfast. It was far too early for him to already be sweating buckets.

Theo slowed to a stop, pushing his hair back once again as he seriously considered ripping it from his skull. He scanned the pitch. It was barely 9 am, and he could hear the usual faint murmur of students having breakfast in the Great Hall. There was a diffused quality to the light of the cloudy day and the grass was still damp with morning dew. It was peaceful. Typical. Calm.

And yet.

Theo looked around, an uneasy feeling in his gut. Something felt...off. He gently rolled out the ankle he had strained last week, starining his ears. It felt fine. It didn't even ache from the humidity of the morning. He watched his teammates jogging along the other side of the field. The pitch was quiet, but no quieter than it usually was. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, the way they did in Quidditch games when he would sense rather than see a Bludger coming his way.

Mattheo jogged past, pausing briefly.

"Ankle?" he asked breathlessly.

Theo shook his head mutely, still thinking hard to the sound of Mattheo's panting as he caught his breath. Just as he gave up on figuring out the strange feeling, he noticed Mattheo frowning at something over his shoulder.

Theo was beginning to hear a set of quick, light footsteps distinct from the rest of the team's sluggish yet relentless footfalls. He turned and immediately got barrelled over by a blur of white and navy blue, knocked flat on his back with a tongue stuck down his throat.

Blinding sunlight rushed in as the figure pulled away. Dazed, Theo was distantly aware of Mattheo gawking at the sight while someone told him off in a waspish tone. He regained his wits just as Mattheo jogged off, sniggering under his breath. Tentatively, he turned his sight to the Ravenclaw girl peering down at him.

"If anyone asks, we were celebrating our 1-month anniversary last night."

Theo shut his eyes briefly, willing himself not to pass out. There was an awful ringing echoing in his skull. Was this what a concussion felt like? And what was that about a one-month -

His eyes popped open despite the searing pain. "Month?"

The girl gave him an impatient look. "Yes. As far as anyone is concerned, we've been dating for the past month."

Theo gaped at you. He had to be hallucinating. How much pain medication did he take last night?

"We have?"

Her lips thinned into a line.

"I can't tell if you're being purposefully dense," she muttered, sitting back on her heels. Theo propped himself up on skinned elbows.

"You, and I," her silhouette repeated, stabbing a finger between the two of you, "one month."

Theo squinted up at her through the sunlight she wasn't blocking. "W-"

"One. Month." she repeated firmly as she stood, brushing imaginary dirt off her pants. She scanned the pitch casually, appraising the rest of the team with a mildly critical look.

"That is all. Enjoy your laps."

Theo watched her walk off back to the castle, befuddled.

After feeding Madam Pomfrey some fib about running laps the wrong way, Theo had his elbows bandaged up. He was barely in time for Ancient Runes and was too restless to pay attention. By the time class finished, all Theo wanted was to tuck into a warm, comforting lunch, even if it was a little early.

He walked into the Great Hall and there you were, like a bad penny, already halfway through a bowl of soup at the Ravenclaw table.

He visibly winced. You had the gall to look cluelessly concerned.

"Merlin, what happened to your elbows?"

Theo just about had an aneurysm.

"You," he forced out through clenched teeth. "You happened."

You looked genuinely surprised.

"Don't tell me you're still upset about this morning?" When Theo remained stony-faced, you rolled your eyes, turning back to your lunch. "God, that was so three hours ago."

Theo stared at you, speechless.

"Don't you think you owe me some kind of explanation?"

You glanced at your watch impatiently. "Fine. I've got 20 minutes before Transfiguration anyway. Sit down."

He didn't. You cleared your throat anyway.

"So, I have this stupid roommate who will not get off my back about bringing someone to this 80s-themed party her cousin's hosting at Hogsmeade this weekend, because she's convinced I'm still hung up on my ex from 5 months ago."

You didn't sound like you were going to be done anytime soon. Theo reluctantly slid into the seat opposite yours.

"Are you still hung up on your - ?"

You nodded, waving a hand carelessly. "Oh, yeah, totally. The pining - it's a whole thing. Don't worry about that. Anyways, she was going at me again last night, and the only way I could get her to shut up was to say that I was bringing someone. So, obviously, she asked who, and - now this part is kind of your fault - and I looked out the window, and there you were, decked out in your Quidditch gear and whatnot, and I thought you were as good of a choice as any. So I said I was bringing you."

Theo blinked at you.

"You told your roommate you're bringing me to a party I'm only just hearing about."

"Mhm."

"And it's my fault," Theo continued tonelessly, trying to make sense of what you were saying, "for going to Quidditch practice...as part of the Quidditch team."

You shrugged. "Yeah, I 'spose. Anyway, she was like, no way, and I was like, way, and I knew she wouldn't believe me if I said we had only just started seeing each other, so I had to say it was, like, our one-month anniversary. But she was still watching me like a hawk, so I had to spend half the night outside of our room. And I think she could still tell I was lying - "

"Still? Are your lies always this elaborate?"

You looked a little embarrassed. "I might have a bit of a problem with...telling the truth, or the whole truth, sometimes." You tucked a lock of hair behind your ear.

"Anyway, I had to get to you before she did, but you both take Ancient Runes together on Thursday mornings, so I had to catch you before then, so..." you gestured vaguely. Theo raised his eyebrows.

"That's it? She's never seen the two of us in the same room, but my word is enough to convince her we've been dating?"

"Oh, please. She hardly sees me. I've got quite a bit on my plate."

Theo eyed your book bag, bursting at the seams with textbooks and parchment.

"I'll say. When do you even find the time to, er, pine after your ex?"

You shot him a withering look. "Whose side are you on, anyway?"

"Right now? The person who didn't tackle me at eight in the morning."

You rolled your eyes. "I can't believe you're still going on about that," you muttered. "It wasn't even eight."

You continued eating your food while Theo mulled over your story. His mind drifted to your face, to the sharp, strong cut of your nose and the plain, straightforward edge to your words. You had a bit of a problem with the truth, there was no denying that, but something about your story didn't seem fabricated or exaggerated. It was a largely unappealing scenario that would only be too easy to refute, which made it all the more convincing.

Theo tilted his head. Huh. Maybe it was the concussion talking, but you were starting to seem a little less insane. He shook his head, clearing his thoughts.

"Why don't you tell your stupid roommate to pi- erm, go away?"

You glared at Theo.

"Stupid Roommate is my best friend. I would kill for her."

It was like he couldn't say anything right. Theo sighed, massaging his temples.

"...okay. What's stopping me from telling her I don't know you?"

You put on a pained look.

"Babe. You can't be saying those things about your one-month girlfriend."

"You're not my - "

"Besides," you continued, finishing up your soup, "we've been holding hands for, like, the past fifteen minutes."

Theo glanced around at the students filing into the Great Hall for lunch, some of whom were eyeing your clasped hands with interest. He yanked his hand away.

"So good luck explaining that to...literally everyone here." You stood, gathering your things. Theo marvelled at the resilience of your book bag when it didn't split open as you pulled it up to your shoulder.

"I'm off for Transfiguration. See you Saturday at 6."

And when you bent to press a kiss to Theo's cheek, he didn't bother leaning away.

Theo was staring into a mirror, hair slick with gel, trying to fix this cowlick that kept falling right in the middle of his forehead. Around him, chaos ensued.

Enzo was studying a retro muggle video game for his Muggle Studies project and, naturally, Mattheo had to screw with him as much as he could. All the while, Blaise was yelling at them to take their scuffle elsewhere, telling them off for crumpling the plastic sheaves of his good binder. Somewhere in the background, there was a knocking sound. Did ankle sprains cause tinnitus?

Empty weekends like these were always rough, but they were especially so when all four of the boys were cooped up together. The air outside was heavy and sticky with the week-long drizzle that refused to let up, making the walk to Hogsmeade downright unbearable.

Theo shook his head, separating his curls. The knocking got louder. It was definitely real, presumably by someone coming to tell them to keep it down. The cowlick fell stubbornly against his forehead once again. From outside the bathroom, there was a violent crash.

That was it. After multiple warnings and 'don't make me come over there's, Theo had finally reached the end of his fuse. He stepped out of the bathroom.

"Oi! Cut it out, all of you. Mattheo, give Enzo his game back. Enzo, go sit in the corner 'til you've calmed down. Blaise, get over yourself and get a new binder."

The thudding on the door increased in volume.

"And somebody get the fucking door!"

Theo retreated back into the bathroom. The noise immediately ceased. He sighed in relief. Finally, some peace and quiet.

There was a soft knock on the bathroom door.

"Theo, someone's here for you."

Theo fiddled with his hair, only half-listening. "Tell them to go away."

"It's a girl."

"Tell her to go away."

"Are you decent?"

Theo looked up at the sound of the striking voice. He had only heard it a couple of times, and never before this week, but it had the kind of piercing quality that made it stand out in a crowd. He glanced at the clock. You were 15 minutes early.

And too impatient to wait for a reply, apparently. The door swung open to reveal you, dressed in frills and ribbons with gigantic hair, carefully shielding your eyes, next to a shit-eating-grin-wearing Mattheo.

"Is he decent?" you asked Mattheo.

"Morally? Debatable. But he has pants on if that's what you're asking."

You dropped your hand. Your eyes swept his outfit. You didn't look too pleased.

"You're not even dressed yet?"

Theo looked down and scanned the very outfit you were eyeing disapprovingly.

"This is what I'm wearing."

He looked up and caught a glimpse of your face.

"Why? What's wrong with it?"

You looked visibly aggrieved by his fashion choice.

"It's so...boring. I said '80s' and you thought black shirt, black jeans?"

"What's wrong with a black shirt, black jeans?"

"Nothing. Unless you're going to an 80s-themed party."

You stepped away from the bathroom's threshold while Theo frowned over what he had thought was a simple, perfectly acceptable outfit.

"This was the best I could come up w - yeah, sure. Go ahead. Go through my clothes. Turn my wardrobe upside down. Go right ahead. It's not like this is my room. Or my clothes. Merlin forbid I claim an inch of this space as m- "

"Are you done?" You asked, extricating yourself from the recesses of Theo's wardrobe. He couldn't tell if your hair looked more or less frizzy. You held out a frilly, powder blue suit Mattheo had bought him as a gag gift for his seventeenth birthday.

"No."

"Just try it on!"

"Absolutely not."

"Come on, please? I probably won't even like the look of it."

"Brilliant. Then what I'm wearing is perfect."

You gave him a look. "But I have to make sure that I won't like it."

Between his roommates and you, Theo's resolve was worn out. Grudgingly, he changed into the suit. If anything, his cowlick made him look even more stupid in this get-up.

"You look so much better," you chirped happily, approvingly examining the patterned insides of the jacket's pockets. "Don't you think?"

Theo narrowed his eyes at your too-innocent smile.

"I think," he said, "you're wasted in Ravenclaw."

"It's just one night, Theo," you continued, like you hadn't heard him. "I don't even have a camera or anything."

"But I do. Smile."

Theo was blinded by a flash from Mattheo's camera from behind you. He scowled at Mattheo, who was too busy pulling out the printed polaroid. He eyed it with satisfaction as it began to develop. "I always knew this day would come," he murmured.

Meanwhile, you doubled your wheedling efforts.

"Please? For me? The girl who knocked you down in front of all of your teammates and won't hesitate to do it again?"

Theo glared at you. "You're not helping your case, you know."

But you must have been doing something right, because five minutes later, he was waving goodbye to his roommates in the powder blue suit. The two of you walked up to the castle's gates into the Muggle car Theo had rented for the evening. As Theo turned the key in the ignition, adjusting his mirrors and seat, you reached over to fix his hair.

"Don't touch my - " Theo swatted your hand away, warily checking his reflection in the rearview mirror. Shockingly, his cowlick was gone. His hair was exactly how he wanted it.

"Long hair suits you. Did you know that?" you said, following his gaze into the mirror, in that assertive, know-it-all tone of yours, like it was a universally agreed-upon fact that Theo looked good with long hair. Grumbling, Theo shifted the gearstick into drive, turning down the road to Hogsmeade.

"Can I try?" you asked for the sixth time, perched on the boot of the Cadillac convertible. Theo pushed his fringe out of his eyes, feeling the back of his neck grow moist.

"I've almost got it," he replied from somewhere underneath the hood for the sixth time.

You rolled your eyes, fanning yourself with a magazine you had found in the backseat. Halfway to Hogsmeade, the car decided to sputter and choke to a stop. What Theo had initially diagnosed as a five-minute problem had grown into a twenty-minute problem and showed no sign of ending.

“I thought you said it was the carburettor,” you called out, already feeling sluggish in the heat of the setting sun.

“I said I think it’s the carburettor.”

You rolled your eyes.

There was a loud clang, a muffled curse, and an alarming hissing sound. Sighing, you abandoned your magazine and hopped off the boot. You came around the hood to see Theo shaking out his hand, like he had been burned, swearing colourfully under his breath.

While he had the sense to leave his jacket in the car, the front of his shirt was splattered with windshield wiper fluid. A rogue curl had escaped and was now sticking to his forehead. His collar had wilted in the heat, and half of his sleeves were probably crumpled beyond help from where they had been folded to his elbow.

And yet, infuriatingly, he still managed to look good. Good in that maddening, ravenous way where you couldn't decide if you wanted to ditch him on the side of the road or climb him like a tree.

Theo tapped at a knob tentatively with his wrench, dropping it when the knob sparked. You had to physically shut your eyes. He was so pathetic, so hot.

“I'm pretty sure I’ve isolated the issue,” Theo was saying, wiping his hands on a cloth. “Definitely a leak of the, erm, braking fluid.”

You fixed Theo with a look. You narrowed his eyes at him.

“You made that up just now.”

“Did not,” he replied, a little too fast.

“Did so.”

Theo frowned, squinting into the hood. “Just five more minutes,” he mumbled, picking up his wrench again.

You muttered something rude under your breath and pushed him out of the way gently, not that he resisted much. You pushed back your hair and studied the interior of the hood.

"See?" came Theo's slightly whiny voice from somewhere cooler. "There's too many fiddly things, it's impossib-"

You pulled out your wand. After a little trial and error, a few whispered spells, the engine gave a healthy sputter and purred back to life.

You stepped back and closed the hood. Theo blinked.

“Huh.”

“Huh,” you repeated mockingly.

You examined your watch and hurried back to the passenger seat. "Now let's get going before it gets too dark."

"Yes, ma'am," Theo said, climbing into the driver's seat.

You flicked his ear in response. You could see the smile biting into his cheek as he checked his mirrors, not noticing that his cowlick was back with a vengeance.

You looked out the windshield, watching the trees go by as you tried to ignore how you were half in love him.

The party was more fun than you expected. And it did feel a little less lonely having someone to drive you there and back, all the while patiently taking the brunt of your teasing. Theo took you back to the castle, walked you up to your common room with surprising stamina (he didn't run all those laps for nothing, then) and bid you goodnight.

And that was the end of that.

Only, you were realising, part of you didn't want it to end. Against your will, everywhere you looked, Theo kept catching your eye - in the corridors, on the staircases, in the Great Hall, on the pitch. It was his fault, really, taking up so much space with all that height. Taking up so much of your mind with all those lazy half-smiles and crinkled eyes.

A couple of mornings later, Theo was jogging laps on the Quidditch pitch again. His grey shirt was soaked in sweat, his fringe falling into his eyes. The early morning air had that familiar crisp edge and the rhythmic murmur of his teammate's footfalls. Theo slowed to a walk, wiping his face with his shirt, when he felt it - that same pricking at the back of his neck. That same unease. He looked in the direction of the Great Hall warily.

“Stopping so soon?” you called out suddenly, from where you had been watching him in the stands.

Theo startled so hard he almost tripped.

“Fuck - how long have you been there?”

"Long enough," you replied languidly, taking in the endearing rosy flush of his cheeks. You waved Mattheo's Potions textbook in the air as Theo walked towards you.

"You can't be doing that to people with already elevated heart rates," he scolded weakly, taking the book you were holding out to him.

You grinned. “Mattheo’s. Try not to get too much sweat on it.”

Theo nodded. "Thanks. I've been needing to level my bed with something."

You swallowed the smile that threatened to break across your face. Merlin forbid he realised you found him funny. You tried to keep your tone light, casual.

“So… what’re you reading these days? Anything interesting?”

Theo looked a little lost. “Like...books?"

You held back an eye roll. “Yeah, I guess.”

"Oh. I've been re-reading Gatsby lately."

You nodded. “Classic. You should tell me about it sometime, over coffee."

Theo’s brow furrowed.

“You've never read The Great Gatsby?"

You gave Theo a dirty look, unable to maintain your polite veneer. "Of course I've read The Great Gatsby. I just wanted to hear your take on it."

Theo stared at you some more. "You want to hear...what I think, about Gatsby?"

"Yeah, sure." It was almost insulting, really, of how disbelieving he appeared of your good, perfectly innocent intentions.

“Uh… okay?” Theo said cautiously.

You stood, partly disappointed, partly peeved. “Great," you said flatly. "Good chat, then.”

You turned away and started walking back to the Great Hall, kicking yourself. How much plainer did you have to make the invitation?

Theo watched you walk off, still a little confused. He jogged back to the pitch, resuming his laps. What was all that about? You wanted to hear what he thought about Gatsby? Not much, especially in comparison to you. He'd hardly have anything to contribute to the conversation that you didn't already know. Why, the two of you would be better off talking about literally anything else.

Theo stopped. The realisation hit him like a ton of bricks.

"WAIT - talk - coffee - yes, Y/N, YE- "

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lov3notts-recs · 2 days ago

Text

“wrong person” but baby i’m the right one😩

you looked down, seeing his cock in hand. Stroking fast. His bottom lip tucked between his teeth, tugging back a groan he so desperately wanted to let out.

And with that stupid comment and a wink, he left, leaving you with his cum glistening all over your face.

WHERE YOU GOING THEO??? WE AREN’T DONE HERE

“Accidental” dick pic

summary: an “accident” turns into more

warning: not proof read, NSFW, mdni, piss kink, bj, sexual references, nudes

pairing: brothersbsf!theodorenott x fem!reader

word count: 1.2k

a/n: supposed to be working on a part two to another fic but….enjoy!

₊ ˚ ⊹ ₊ ˚ ⊹ ₊ ˚ ⊹ ₊ ˚ ⊹ ₊ ˚ ⊹ ₊ ˚ ⊹ ₊ ˚ ⊹ ₊ ˚ ⊹ ₊ ˚ ⊹ ₊ ˚ ⊹ ₊ ˚ ⊹

Theo was off limits. Completely and utterly forbidden. Why? Because he was your brothers best friend. The brother? Mattheo.

However, that never stopped you two from flirting. Theo’s favorite way to get under your skin was his pet names for you. Pretty girl, Mi amor, Tesoro, the list went on. But those were his favorites.

Mattheo and Theodore were best friends, practically brothers. You knew Theo from birth to now. It was an understatement to say that Theo came over a lot. He practically lived in your house. You never really questioned it though, considering you knew how horrible his father treated him. Besides, your parents acted like you and Mattheo didn’t exist. So what was the harm in having friends over constantly?

Speaking of having friends over, your best friend, Daphne Greengrass was over tonight. You both decided to watch a muggle film in the living room while gossiping.

Theo had already been at the house all day with Mattheo, hanging out in his room. After a few hours you simply forgot that he was there. You hadn’t seen him leave mattheos room so he didn’t really cross your mind.

Daphne had finally arrived, the living room was already set up for her and you both. Blankets, pillows, snacks. The essentials. She got to choose the movie this time considering that last time you got to choose. It was an unspoken decision that you two would switch turns seamlessly.

She chose some romantic film that disinterested you. The title of the fill was something cheesy. What was it? Me and you? You couldn’t remember. She seemed so pulled in by the plot. Nearly on the edge of her seat, so tuned in by the almost nauseating scenes.

You had been scrolling through your phone, not thinking much of it until a notification popped up.

‘Dumbass’ sent you a picture

You chuckled to yourself as you remembered what you put as Theos contact name. He had pissed you off and you wanted to retaliate. After that, it simply stuck.

You clicked on the notification and opened it, eyes widened as far as they could go.

Sitting on your phone was Theodore Notts dick pic.

You had flirted sure, but never sexted Theo!

As soon as your fingers started to type out multiple question marks, he sent another text.

Sorry, wrong person.

Your brows furrowed faintly, wrong person? You knew he didn’t have the courage to talk to girls unless they approached him. Did he have a new chick? Merlin, you hoped not. It was nice being the only girl he talked to.

You were speechless, couldn’t help but stare at the picture. Bloody hell was he well endowed or whatever it’s called.

It was certainly long, but a bit on the thinner side. Whatever he lacked in girth he definitely made up for in length. The tip was a light red, a few drops of precum making it shimmer. You looked closer and noticed he was circumcised. It made you feel a bit better considering the last guy you hooked up with, you had to force him to clean out the gunk. It was extremely gross. But Theo…? He was completely shaved and it looked freshly washed. You never expected that to turn you on, but it did.

He had his hand wrapped around the bottom of his shaft, not quite squeezing. His balls weren’t visible from the angle but you could certainly imagine them. Heavy and filled with cum. He had some slight veins running through the shaft, they only served to turn you on. You only wish you could run the tip of your wet hot tongue over them until you memorized every single one.

You looked back up at the movie. It was at a scene where the brunette girl was shaving the man’s beard. You nearly gagged despite what you were just looking at.

You closed your phone and gave Daphne a soft, yet polite excuse, leaving to the restroom. You got up and walked over the bathroom and sighed when you heard the water running from the sink. You waited a moment or two until the bathroom door opened. There stood Theo, lingering over you just enough to make you have to ever so slightly look up. Your face flushed, his did too until it cracked into a smirk.

He looked…satisfied. Ugh, you could practically see what he had done in there. You arched an eyebrow. No words exchanged, the silence and facial expressions said it all. He lightly grabbed your hand and tugged you back into the bathroom. Shutting and locking the door. Smirking as he tilted his head to the side

“Couldn’t get enough? Had to come see it in person?”

You rolled your eyes as soon as you heard the words spill from his lips

“No, actually. I had to use the bathroom like a normal person. Not jerk off like you.”

He only smirked more, as if you were feeding his ego. It was like it thrived off of insults. You happened to glance down and notice that he really did thrive off insults. His bulging crotch was all the evidence you needed. Before you could comment on it, he spoke

“Ah, so the princess needed to piss? Go ahead.”

It was clear as day he didn’t plan on leaving. Your gaze hardened but you weren’t a quitter. You lifted the toilet seat, pulled your pajama pants and panties down in one go. Sitting on the seat and peed. Your eyes locked on his. You both were too stubborn to leave the bathroom now. You continued to watch his face until you saw it slightly contort into pleasure. Confused, you looked down, seeing his cock in hand. Stroking fast. His bottom lip tucked between his teeth, tugging back a groan he so desperately wanted to let out.

You had been so focused on eye contact you hadn’t noticed him pulling his dick out. You soon finished, stood up to wipe but he forced you back onto the toilet. Smirking down at you as he spoke.

“C’mon, pretty girl. Finish what you started?”

You nearly scoffed at that. You wanted to push him away and tell him how he started it. However, despite it all, you couldn’t deny the wetness dripping from you, and not from your piss.

Before you could say anything, his thumb opened your mouth and swiftly shoved your mouth full of him. He groaned quietly at the feeling of your wet mouth wrapped around him. Your hands immediately found his thighs in a desperate attempt to try to stop the gagging on him. He was definitely lengthy. You gagged around him continuously, yet it only served to turn him on tremendously. After a few pathetic thrusts in your mouth, he pulled out, finishing all over your face as you looked up at him. Almost smiling at the feeling of his warm white liquid decorating your face.

He wiped the saliva off his now slowly softening cock, pushing it back into his boxers and smirking at you. That same stupid satisfied look on his face from earlier. You wanted to bash his face in and kiss it all over at the same time. Just as he was about to slip out, he turned back to you and spoke in a sly tone

“Not too bad, pretty. Although, you might wanna clean up before your brother sees you. Wouldn’t want him seeing how much of a slut you are for his best friend.”

And with that stupid comment and a wink, he left, leaving you with his cum glistening all over your face.

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lov3notts-recs · 6 days ago

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YAYYY ITS POSTEDDD!!! also no need to thank me, the ending was all you!!🙂‍↕️

Theo is so cute with his little treat box 😭

So, you couldn't really blame him if he brought the said cat to his dorm and spent an hour apologizing to it and telling it how much of an idiot he was

literally him

i will need more of this duo!!!😼😼😼

WHO'S CAT IS THAT? — 1.2K words

꒰🍮꒱ ! IN WHICH theodore’s love language is apologizing to cats he thinks are you

warnings/tags ・・[cat animagus!reader], established relationship, theodore emotionally dumping on a cat which is not you, theodore cheating on you with another cat, loads of fluff and embarassed!theodore author's note ・・everyone thank mora ( @lov3notts ) for proofreading and helping me with the ending. ilysm <3

You wouldn’t even consider what happened a fight. It was just a civil exchange of passive-aggressive comments — with a touch of glaring. But apparently Theodore thought differently because when he saw a ginger cat with bright golden eyes staring at him as if he'd personally insulted its entire existence, he assumed the cat was you. In his defense, the look was the same one you gave him when he did something particulary― well, him and, to be fair, you did have a habit of turning into your animagus form after any argument.

So, you couldn’t really blame him if he brought the said cat to his dorm and spent an hour apologizing to it and telling it how much of an idiot he was — which, honestly, you’d been saying for weeks.

He even took out the treat box he kept for you for when you were especially moody, offering the cat a single piece as a peace offering.

The cat sniffed the treat and after giving Theodore a nasty glare, swatted at his hand which caused it to drop.

"Okay, I deserve that. I was a prat. Actually, I am a prat. And I shouldn't have called you mad even though you were acting like it."

That earned him a single slow blink — the kind that might’ve meant "I accept your apology" or "I’m plotting your demise." Honestly, with you, it was usually both.

"I'm guessing you're planning my downfall?" The reply was a full-bodied tail flick to the face, followed by the cat turning around and walking off to sit — very pointedly — with its back to him. Theodore sighed, his head in his hands. "Yeah, that tracks."

The door creaked open, grabbing both his and the cat’s attention. They turned in unison to see Blaise walk in, casually eating an apple. "Hey, you seen Y/N?"

Theodore gestured at the cat who had now taken an interest in staring at the apple and jumped off the bed to rub against Blaise's leg. Blaise frowned. "That’s not her. That’s Derek Avery’s cat."

"No, Zabini. It’s Y/N," Theodore sighed, scooping the cat back into his arms. "See? It even has that round spot she has above her—"

He paused. Blinked. Searched the fur.

Blaise raised an eyebrow at the obviously not there spot. "Yup. That’s your girlfriend."

"Where did the mark go?" Theodore muttered, parting the cat’s fur like it would magically reappear. He rotated the cat until they were eye to eye.

"...You’re not my girlfriend. You’re just some local cat."

As if the cat had just realized its true identity, it scratched Theodore across the face, hissed loudly, and leapt out of his arms.

"I—okay. So that obviously wasn’t her. So where the hell is she?" He asked, turning to Blaise.

Blaise shrugged as he took a loud bite of his apple. "I don't know but what I do know is you’ve been emotionally dumping on Derek Avery’s cat for an hour." He chuckled.

"Oh my god. Stai zitto, Zabini."

"He’s been putting up posters, Nott." He laughed so hard he almost choked on his apple. "He even wrote a letter to his parents."

"Who wrote a letter to their parents?" Pansy asked as she walked in with you.

Theodore froze as he took you in. Blaise’s eyes widened in glee as if he'd just been told he scored an O in Potions.

You were standing in the doorway, completely unbothered, holding a butterbeer and raising an eyebrow at the scene.

The real you.

"You’re not a cat," Theodore said dumbly at which Blaise burst out laughing.

"Not at the moment, no," You said, taking a sip. "Why? And why is Blaise laughing as if he's scored an O in Potions?"

"He’s an idiot," Theodore muttered, shooting Blaise a glare — which only made him laugh harder.

You took one look around the room — the treat box, tufts of orange fur, and even more clinging to Theodore’s shirt — and gasped. "You brought another cat over?" You exclaimed, placing a hand over your heart like the betrayal had physically wounded you. "After everything we’ve been through? Another cat, Theodore?"

"It wasn’t like that," He said quickly, still half-hidden by the door where he had hidden from the embarassment. "I thought it was you!"

“You thought that was me?” You gestured vaguely toward the empty bed like the ghost of the cat was still lounging there in smug satisfaction.

"She gave me the look!"

Blaise, wheezing from the edge of the bed, said, "You know, the one you use when he breathes too confidently."

Pansy chuckled.

You turned back to Theodore, expression utterly scandalized. "So you see a ginger cat with ‘the look’ and your first instinct is to bring it home and give it my snacks from my treat box?"

"That sounds so much worse when you say it like that—"

"It is worse!" You cried, gesturing like you were in a court. "I trusted you! I thought our weird animagus-coded thing meant something!"

From behind the door, Theodore groaned. "Oh my god, I’m never going to live this down."

"I can't believe this." You cried as Pansy reached over to awkwardly pat your shoulder.

"There, there. It's gonna be okay." She smiled at your obvious fake cries.

Theodore in complete panic mode jumped over to you, "I'm so sorry, amore. I swear it didn't mean anything."

"You promise?" You looked up at him through your lashes.

"I promise." He gave you a soft smile, voice a little too earnest for someone still covered in cat fur. "I don’t care how many ginger cats glare at me — there’s only one I ever want to apologize to for the rest of my life."

You stood, arms crossed and chin tilted like a queen preparing to issue her terms. "Fine. I suppose I can forgive you."

His shoulders sagged in relief.

"But only if you refill my treat box." You poked his chest lightly. "With the fancy salmon ones. The expensive kind."

Theodore let out a quiet laugh, already reaching for his coin pouch. "Anything else, Your Highness?"

You smirked. "A foot massage. And maybe a sincere letter of apology. Written in verse."

"I’m starting to think that cat got off easy."

"Merlin," Pansy muttered as she looked at you both with a glare or love, you could never tell. "You two are exhausting. Disgustingly cute, but exhausting."

"Thank you, Pans." You smiled at her as she started, "That was not a compl-" but was interuppted by the obnoxious noise of Blaise wailing.

"You two are so cute." He sobbed, "And he has a treat box for you." He cried harder. "I’d tattoo ‘do not feed’ on her if I were you," Blaise added, sniffling slightly. "Right across the fur where that spot is."

You huffed. "Bold of you to assume you’ll ever see me as a cat again."

Theodore, who had spaced out a bit as if in deep thinking, blinked. "Wait. So that wasn’t you in the courtyard last week?”

A beat of silence.

"…No."

"Oh my god," Pansy whispered, scandalized. Blaise burst into tearful laughter as Theodore turned beet red, and you grinned.

"Guess you’ve got some apologizing to do to another cat too."

©iamgonnagetyouback౨ৎ please refrain from copying, translating, or reposting any of my work

#i love having the first look on your stories 🙂‍↕️#theo nott #theodore nott #theo nott x reader #theodore nott x reader #slytherin boys #theodore nott x you #theo nott fanfiction #theodore nott drabble #theodore nott fanfic #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott fic #theodore nott fluff #theo nott fluff

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lov3notts-recs · 18 days ago

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CHASE DAVDENPORT?!? SHUT UPPP OMGGG

i’ve had the BIGGEST crush on him(its coming back)

your hips roll slow and sweet, just once, and he breaks the kiss entirely, dropping his head back with a choked breath.

"chase," you whisper against his lips, voice full of mock concern. "you're shaking."

"don't," he says quickly, eyes screwed shut. "don't move. please."

this whole scene just made me squeal

"i didn't mean to," he gasps, eyes fluttering shut, the heat blooming down his neck giving him away completely. "you were just- you were kissing me. you were on top of me. i couldn't— i tried to hold it, i swear..."

words can’t express how much i need him right now

leona, love. thank you for reminding me of his beautiful man.

helloo… ur acc seems so aesthetic omg i trust u with writing for chase. do u think u could write something small about him coming untouched while u two r making out?

── .✦ chase vs his struggle to control himself…

pairing: chase davenport x fem!reader warnings: 18+ mdni, sexual content, makeout, ejaculation note: thank you for the compliments bb, hope i did your idea justice <3

his lips are so soft it’s stupid.

you’re curled over him on the penthouse couch, knees bracketing his thighs, your fingers tugging gently at the soft hair at the back of his neck. his mouth is hot and hungry against yours, and chase davenport kisses like a man trying to compute pleasure in real time — slow at first, strategic, a little hesitant, until he overloads and melts into you like he’s never been kissed before (which, before you, he hadn’t been).

you feel his hands drift, trying to stay polite, pressed into the small of your back like he’s holding on for dear life. but you shift forward just a little, enough to press flush against him, and that’s all it takes, his fingers flex, digging into your waist.

he gasps into your mouth.

“you okay?” you murmur, lips barely brushing his.

he nods too fast. “yeah. yes. fine. totally fine.”

he is absolutely not fine.

there’s a visible tremor in his thighs beneath you, and you’re not oblivious — you can feel how hard he is through his joggers, how he’s been tense from the second you climbed into his lap, how he keeps trying not to rut up against you like his whole body’s fighting itself.

your hips roll slow and sweet, just once, and he breaks the kiss entirely, dropping his head back with a choked breath.

“chase,” you whisper against his lips, voice full of mock concern. “you’re shaking.”

“don’t,” he says quickly, eyes screwed shut. “don’t move. please.”

you freeze, and then you feel it.

he tenses under you, a shudder running through his whole body like he’s being electrocuted from the inside out. his jaw clenches, lips parted in a soft, desperate moan, and his hands tighten around your waist like you’re the only thing keeping him tethered to the moment.

then he goes still. dead still.

your lips part, confused for a second until it. the slight wetness on his pants, the way his breath is coming in shallow, humiliated little gasps as he buries his face in your neck like he can hide from what just happened. he looks wrecked, like you short-circuited something in his perfect little supercomputer brain.

“oh my god,” you whisper, more stunned than anything. “chase… did you just…?”

he doesn’t answer right away. just swallows thickly and nods against your shoulder.

“you came?” you ask again, just to be sure. “without even—?”

“i didn’t mean to,” he gasps, eyes fluttering shut, the heat blooming down his neck giving him away completely. “you were just— you were kissing me. you were on top of me. i couldn’t— i tried to hold it, i swear…”

you can’t help it. you giggle. a soft, breathless, delighted little sound that makes him whimper.

you grin, leaning down to brush your mouth against his jaw. “you’re so easy, baby.”

“don’t say it like that,” he mutters, face burning so hot it’s radiating. “i’m literally never recovering from this.”

you press your lips to his ear. “that’s okay, sweetheart.”

he shudders again and you sit up just slightly, tilting his chin to meet your gaze. his eyes are glazed, pupils blown wide, skin flushed all the way down his neck.

“next time,” you murmur, smiling sweetly, “you’re gonna wait for me.”

m.list

#i love how touched starved this man is but also being so respectful???#now i have to read more fics about him #he’s such a cutie omg #chase davenport #chase davenport x reader #chase davenport smut #chase davenport x you #chase lab rats #chase davenport x y/n #chase davenport x fem!reader #chase davenport x female reader #lab rats

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lov3notts-recs · 20 days ago

Note

i need stalker theo to come find me in the middle of the night and do things to me hehehe

tw nonconsensual somnophilia. stalking. mentions of drugging.

such a pretty pussy, he thinks to himself as he spreads your legs wide open, giving him the perfect view of your cunt. he’s lucky you’re a deep sleeper, but of course he made sure to help you a little before even sneaking into your room in the first place.

seeing you sleep so peacefully, legs spread and inviting, his self control snaps. he promised himself he wouldn’t do a single thing besides just taking a look. but a little touch won’t hurt. hesitantly, he brings his fingers closer to your cunt, his tongue peeking out slightly in concentration, worried about waking you. you wince a bit when his skin touches yours, his wide eyes darting to your face, and god, you look so adorable with your brows furrowed, making soft noises in your sleep.

slowly, he pushes his digits into your cunt, two at once, as he spreads them open inside you, fully stretching you out. “you feel so tight, angel… so fuckin’ tight.” he whispers to you, his cock twitching in his pants as his breathing grows shallow and uneven, his lip bleeding from how hard he’s biting down on it.

“mmm you know what… maybe you deserve a little more than this.” theo murmurs as he carefully unbluckles his belt with soaked fingers, unable to hold himself back any longer.

#i’d pretend to fall asleep just so he could do things to me #FAWK i’m horny #stalker!theo ♡#tw: noncon #theo nott #theodore nott #theo nott smut #theodore nott smut

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lov3notts-recs · 22 days ago

Text

IM SCREAMINGGGG!!!!!

THERES NEW SCENES?? THE CLIFFHANGER???

i’m so incredibly happy that you finished the rewrite!:)) it’s quite literally my favorite series ever.

i can’t wait for the next part, everything will be NEW SO I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT YOU HAVE IN STORE😝

love you & your writing ♥️

Peonies ; part one [REWRITE]

Pairing: Theo Nott x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 15.8k

Warnings: Unrequited love, jealousy from many ends, the reader is shorter than Theo, and wears a bikini. Theo calls reader fiore. Discomfort/sadness. Reader doesn’t really know how to swim. Brief mentions of blood. There’s for sure more but I’m gonna have to go back and add them!

A/N: Omg hi! This has been a long time coming, and not much has been added, just a couple new scenes and some more details added. Most of the rewrite will be in the second part, but it feels too much to have a 30k+ fic posted in one go. So I’m dividing it up! Since it’s been so long I figured I’d post this to hold you guys over, thank you for being so patient! It’s much appreciated! <3

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

Against your better judgment, you’d fallen hard for Mattheo Riddle. And yet, you were fully aware that nothing would ever come of it.

You’d grown up in the same circles, your families often crossing paths at dinners and parties, but you were never particularly close, barely acknowledging each other in those polished, formal settings. It wasn’t until you both started at Hogwarts that any real friendship formed. Being eleven and navigating the overwhelming experience of a new school was daunting for anyone. When you were both sorted into Slytherin, you naturally gravitated toward each other, being the most familiar thing the other could find.

Over time, you’d been there for him more times than you could count. You were the one cleaning his cuts after a fight, always telling him it was the last time because you couldn’t bear to see him get hurt. Yet, each time he showed up, you let him in with an exasperated huff, carefully tending to his wounds. When he’d appear at your door late at night, eyes dark with whatever was haunting him, you’d silently walk with him, sitting together in the quiet of the common room until the tension in his shoulders finally eased. You’d pretend to be annoyed when he asked to copy your coursework, but in truth, you savored every moment he sat close to you—the way his arm would brush against yours as he scribbled down your notes, the warmth of him, the scent of his cologne lingering in the air. It left you longing for him to stay close just a little longer, even though you knew he never would.

He moved from one fling to the next, a string of one-night stands that never seemed to reach his heart. While you’d never been one of them, you couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like if you were. A stubborn, hopeless part of you clung to the fantasy that maybe, just maybe, he’d one day let you be the one he trusted with more than just a night tangled in the sheets.

Your friends always joked that if Mattheo ever got serious about a girl, it would be you—but you knew the chances of that were painfully slim.

So you were caught off guard when you walked into the common room and saw a girl you barely recognized sitting with your friends. Cozied up in the same armchair as Mattheo. Your steps faltered as you approached, trying to piece together who she was and why she was sitting with your friends and more specifically, Mattheo. It wasn’t that you were opposed to meeting new people, but your group had never once welcomed anyone new. You’d tried, it didn’t go as well as you’d hoped.

“Hey, love.” Enzo murmurs, patting the cushion beside him on the couch. He’s the only one who’s noticed you so far; the rest are absorbed in their heated discussion about the latest Quidditch match. You were never particularly interested in discussing Quidditch—what interested you was watching Mattheo talk about it. There was just something undeniably attractive about listening to his voice when he talked about something that interested him.

You slide onto the couch next to Enzo, your gaze briefly flicking to the girl sitting directly across from you, trying to place her without being too obvious about your stare.

“Hey, Enz.” You say with a soft smile, setting your bag down as you settle onto the couch.

“What’s going on?” You tilt your head toward the girl, and Enzo glances in her direction. She’s not paying attention, her gaze fixed on Mattheo with a lovesick expression, hanging onto his every word.

“I’m not sure,” Enzo replies quietly, ensuring his voice doesn’t carry. “Mattheo just introduced us, and we’re all a bit confused about it, too I think.”

“Oh.” You murmur, and Enzo watches you carefully. He knows about your feelings for Mattheo; he’d have to be blind not to notice.

Enzo leans in closer, and you shift your gaze to him. “Listen, love—”

Enzo doesn’t get to finish before a soft gasp of your name catches your attention. You look over, surprised to see the girl leaning forward with her hand extended. You briefly wonder how she knows your name and if you should know hers too.

You notice that her other hand still has a tight grip on Mattheo.

“I’m Veronica,” she says warmly, her smile never wavering. “Mattheo’s girlfriend.” The way she emphasizes the word girlfriend startles you—it takes a second to register, and then it hits you like a punch to the gut.

Girlfriend. When did Mattheo Riddle start dating?

And why wasn’t he introducing her himself?

You’re at a loss for words, a nauseous feeling curling around you, tightening its grip until you’re not sure you could speak even if you tried. You know you should smile, should tell her how happy you are to meet her. But you can’t find it in you to do so, not when you’d rather be anywhere but here.

You swallow the urge to ask if she’s joking, if she’s hit her head, because Mattheo Riddle isn’t a relationship guy. No one knows that better than you.

Yet, you’re rooted to the spot in stunned silence, your gaze flitting between her hand, now entwined with Mattheo’s, and the soft, content smile playing on her lips.

Your mind races, struggling to process the situation that’s just blindsided you. You always knew he’d never be yours—not in the way you wanted—but hearing it, seeing it laid out so plainly before you, feels like your heart has been ripped from your chest.

You force a smile, so strained it makes your head spin, and you finally take her hand, the gesture automatic and devoid of real warmth. “Nice to meet you.” You manage to say, though the words feel foreign on your tongue.

Her smile widens, and she shifts closer to Mattheo as if silently asserting her place by his side. Your eyes flicker to Mattheo, whose attention is pulled to Veronica as she presses closer into him. You’re not surprised he’s been oblivious to the conversation, or lack thereof, happening next to him. Talk of Quidditch had a tendency to do that to him.

You study his face intently, searching for any hint of his feelings toward her, hoping to find anything that might betray his feelings.

But when you see the way he looks at her—eyes soft, filled with a tenderness you’ve never seen from him before—your stomach churns with a sickening mix of jealousy and heartache.

His eyes meet yours, and he smiles, pressing a kiss to her hair. “I didn’t even see you come in. Glad you’ve met my girl,”he says, the warmth in his voice making your chest tighten.

I didn’t see you. Your stomach lurches at his words.

Clearly not—if you had, you wouldn’t be flaunting another girl right in front of me, you think bitterly.

You glance at Veronica as she nods enthusiastically. “Me too, Matty,” she says, her voice dripping with sweetness. “I’m already so excited for the girls’ nights we’re going to have.”

You can’t tell if she’s genuinely that nice or just putting on a show for Mattheo. “Oh yeah. That would be fun,” you say, forcing a smile that feels more like a grimace. Neither of them notices the unease behind it—they’re too wrapped up in each other, their attention locked in a gaze that makes you feel invisible.

The last thing you want is a girls’ night. Pass the popcorn—oh, and by the way? I want your boyfriend.

No. Absolutely not.

You tear your gaze away, the sight of them together too painful to endure, and instead turn to Enzo. “What the hell?” You mutter, barely managing to keep your voice steady.

“I’m sorry, love, I wanted to tell you before they did.” Enzo whispers, wincing as he gives your hand a quick squeeze. You murmur a soft “It’s okay,” but inside, you’re far from feeling that way.

Desperately, you try to compose yourself, but the effort feels pointless. As your eyes wander, they lock with Theo’s. He’s watching you, his expression unreadable. You muster a soft smile, hoping to mask the heartbreak inside, but he doesn’t return it; he just keeps watching, his gaze heavy with something you can’t quite place.

You manage to stay for half an hour, offering the occasional nod and murmured agreement to feign interest in the conversation. But your mind is elsewhere, detached from the words being exchanged. No one seems to notice your distraction; they’re all too absorbed in their own conversations to catch the distant look in your eyes.

Without realizing it, your gaze keeps drifting back to the couple. Veronica rests her head on Mattheo’s shoulder, and his hand is gently resting on her knee, his thumb brushing softly against her skin. You can’t help but notice how at ease he seems with this physical intimacy—something you’re surprised he’d be so comfortable with.

It took Mattheo ages to grow comfortable with your touch. The first time he came over after a particularly brutal nightmare about his father, he sat hunched over on your bed, eyes hollow as he confessed he kept reliving Christmas break—how his dad had slapped him for something he couldn’t even remember. Something so insignificant. When your hand barely grazed his back, he nearly jumped out of his skin.

It was months before your touch started to soothe him instead of making him flinch.

When Pansy casually asked how Mattheo and Veronica had met, you felt a surge of restless energy. You couldn’t bear to hear that they’d been together for months, falling in love while you remained oblivious, never realizing you never stood a chance. Without thinking, you abruptly stood up, the couch creaking loudly at the force. The sudden noise drew theattention of everyone in the room. All eyes shifted to you, their expressions a mix of surprise and curiosity as they awaited your next move.

“Um,” you winced as the room’s gaze fixed on you, feeling the heat of their attention. “I’m coming down with a migraine. I’m going to bed early tonight.”

Your friends’ voices fade into the background as they shout their goodnights, the words scarcely reaching your ears. You speed through the common room and down the cold, empty hallway, desperate for the seclusion of your dorm. Just as you’ve made it halfway to your room, a firm grip catches your hand. Startled, you spin around to find Theo standing there, his eyes searching yours with a mix of concern and hesitation.

“Fiore,” he says softly, his voice a gentle caress in the quiet hallway. His eyes follow the tears streaming down your cheeks, and you watch through blurry vision as he takes a tentative step closer. “What’s going on?”

You open your mouth to respond but find yourself unable to form the words. The lump in your throat feels insurmountable. Instead, you just shake your head slightly, your tears continuing to fall one after another.

He releases a quiet sigh and says, “Come here.” Without a second thought, you step closer, encircling his waist with your arms while resting your head against his chest. His arms come up to settle around your shoulders, and he gently rests his head against yours. As you press your face into his chest, sniffling softly, he whispers soothing words in Italian, his voice a comforting murmur.

You must have been standing in the cold corridor for fifteen minutes before the distant murmur of approaching students prompts Theo to gently pull himself from you. He takes your hand, his touch warm against the chill, guiding you away from the freezing corridor.

“It’s just you and Pansy, right?” He asks, using his hand to guide you in front of him to let you go ahead and enter your room first.

“Yeah, but she’ll probably stay with Blaise.” You say softly, the strain in your voice revealing that you’ve been crying. Theo doesn’t say anything; he’s long since lost count of the times he’s told them off for leaving the curtains open or forgetting to cast a silencing spell. Instead, he follows you into your dorm, the door clicking softly behind him.

The walls are lined with polaroids of the group, and Theo’s gaze lingers on the numerous pictures of you and Mattheo. Your dark wood desk is topped with a silver lamp and a few textbooks, its surface cluttered with quills and scattered notes. Mattheo’s jersey is draped over the back of your chair, and Theo recalls all the times seeing you wear it at each game. Your teddy, a well-worn bear that Theo recognizes as the same one you bring every year, sits at the top of your desk.

The room feels markedly warmer than the corridor outside, though it might just be because it’s your room.

“You can sit.” You offer. Theo’s eyes move to where you’re perched on the edge of your bed watching him.

You’ve kicked off your shoes and tossed your robes over your trunk. He swallows, his gaze lingering on you. Despite the tear stains on your cheeks, he finds it hard to look away—you’re the prettiest girl he’s ever seen. He’s always thought so.

It’s rare for him to spend time with you alone. Usually, when you’re together, it’s with the rest of your friends. Over the years, you’ve been paired up in classes a few times, but neither of you has ever gone out of your way to be alone together.

He sits down next to you on the bed, deliberately leaving some space between you. For a while, neither of you speaks. When Theo finally glances at you out of the corner of his eye, he notices you staring at a polaroid of you and Mattheo. It was taken at a party celebrating Slytherin’s win. In the photo, you’re perched on his lap, one arm casually draped around his shoulder, the other holding up a cup of whatever you were drinking. Your smile is bright, full of life, while Mattheo’s is more subdued, but there’s no mistaking the way he’s looking at you—content, almost in awe, as you laugh above him.

He was sure you two were going to get together that night—and he nearly drank himself blackout drunk at the thought.

“Hey,” He murmurs. You hum to show you’re listening, but don’t look away from the picture. “You know I’m here for you. In any way you need me.”

You can’t tear your eyes away from the picture at first, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you stare at it. Finally, you let out a sigh and turn to him, “I appreciate that. But how fair would it be for me to vent about your best friend to you?”

It’s the first time he’s ever heard you say anything that hints at your feelings for Mattheo.

“I don’t care about him right now. I care about you.” He says, and you look a tad surprised at his words.

There’s a moment of quiet as you process Theo’s words. He’s always been Mattheo’s best friend, so hearing him dismiss Mattheo like that catches you off guard. You hesitate, not wanting to unload all your feelings onto him, especially since the mere thought of talking about Mattheo and Veronica makes your stomach turn.

“Theo,” you sigh, your voice tinged with vulnerability, on the verge of breaking. He can hear how close you are to tears. “Will you lie with me? If that’s weird, I understand—”

But before you can finish, Theo gently takes your hand, his grip warm and reassuring, leaving no room for doubt. He gives a small nod, silently gesturing for you to lie down, and you follow his lead.

“Where do you want me, fiore?” He asks, his voice soft. You feel a momentary hesitation, your heart stuttering at the tenderness in his tone.

“Um,” you murmur, turning onto your side, feeling the unease settling in your stomach. Not because you feel uncomfortable around Theo, but because this is wildly different for the both of you. “Will you face me?”

Theo doesn’t hesitate. He moves effortlessly, sliding into place beside you. You watch as he slips off his shoes and sets them aside, then settles himself on the bed, positioning his body so he’s facing you. You find yourself holding your breath, acutely aware of how close he is—how you’re sharing the same pillow and could study every detail of his face if you wanted to.

“Why did you follow me?” You ask, and his eyes flicker up to meet yours.

“I got the impression you needed someone.” You don’t say anything to that, just take in his words. It startles you that Theo—someone you’re hardly close with—noticed, instead of Mattheo, who’s seen you at your worst more times than you can count.

“Thank you.” You say, and you cringe inwardly at the way your voice wavers. There’s nothing hiding the sadness in your voice, it’s impossible to mask.

His eyes gently trace your features, a soft concern evident in his expression as he takes in the sight of you, “For?”

“Laying with me. Coming to check on me,” Your voice drops to a whisper and your eyes well up in tears when you think about why you were upset in the first place. “It means a lot.”

Theo lets out a soft hum, his gaze soft as he lifts his hand to gently brush away a tear that slips from your eye. The gentleness of his fingers against your face feels soothing; you’ve never had anyone touch you like this before.

You shift closer to Theo, and for a moment, he tenses, as if unsure of your proximity. The hesitation makes you wonder if this closeness is too much, but then he wraps his arm around you and draws you in, holding you firmly against him. You wonder if it should feel awkward, letting Theo hold you this close when the two of you have never been this close before, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. You let your eyes flutter shut, inhaling his cologne—surprisingly more comforting to you than Mattheo’s—and feeling the warmth of his body through his shirt.

As his fingers move gently over your hair, a calming touch, you rest your head against his chest. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat becomes a soothing reminder that you aren’t alone, and soon you find yourself drifting off, wrapped in the quiet of your dorm.

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

When you wake up, Theo is gone, and you’re not sure if you’re more disappointed or relieved. Given how you feel, you’re leaning toward the latter. Your head throbs with a sharp, relentless ache, and your puffy eyes serve as a reminder of the tears you shed last night.

You’re nearly done getting ready when Pansy slips into the dorm, her brows knitting in surprise as she takes in the sight of you.

Her gaze lingers on the dark circles under your eyes and the slight tremor in your hands as you fix your tie, “I didn’t think you’d be leaving the dorm today.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” You snap, and Pansy raises an amused brow at the agitation in your voice.

“I didn’t think you’d be in the mood to see them.” She heads to her trunk, her current clothes rumpled and clearly in need of a fresh uniform. You don’t need her to spell it out—you know exactly who she’s talking about.

“I left because I had a migraine.” You grit out and she glances over her shoulder, obviously amused and doubtful at your answer.

“Really? A migraine after seeing those two?” Pansy hums, rummaging through her trunk with deliberate slowness, her eyes flicking to you as if gauging your reaction. “They were all over each other last night. Who’s to say they won’t be again today?”

You stiffen at the mention of Mattheo and his girlfriend, your fingers pausing on your tie. The events of last night rushback—Veronica’s hand on Mattheo, the way he looked at her. You feel a fresh wave of nausea but push it down, not wanting to give Pansy the satisfaction of knowing she was right.

“It doesn’t bother me.” You mutter, trying to sound indifferent, though your voice wavers slightly. You force your hands to finish with your tie, pulling it tighter than necessary.

Pansy glances over at you, a flicker of something like sympathy in her eyes, as she drops the amused smirk, “You know you can tell me, right? About how you feel about him.”

You study Pansy, debating whether to finally say what you’ve kept to yourself for so long. It’s only been hours since you basically admitted it to Theo, and now telling Pansy feels like too much—though you’re sure they’d suspected for a while. But voicing it out loud feels like stepping into territory you’re not ready to face.

“What difference does it make, Pans? He’s got a girlfriend now.” You sigh, the sadness from last night seeping into your words. She abandons her trunk, standing up to fully face you, her expression unreadable.

“If it helps, we were all surprised.” She says, her voice unexpectedly gentle. That’s not normally a word you’d use in the same sentence as her name. “None of us had a clue he was sleeping with anyone more than once.”

Your stomach churns further, “I don’t think that really helps, Pans.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” she says, her eyes scanning your face for any sign of comfort. “I could make her life a nightmare if you want. Maybe then she’d decide it’s not worth it.”

“No,” you say, wincing as you stare at the wall, feeling the heaviness of the room. “I want him to be happy, and if shemakes him happy, then I need to accept it. Even if it hurts.”

Pansy narrows her eyes, disbelief crossing her face. “Are you joking? You’d make him happy—”

“Pansy,” you cut her off, frustration making your voice sharper. “I don’t need you to fix this. I just need to figure out how to deal with it myself.”

Pansy falls silent, her gaze shifting as she takes in the raw pain on your face, a flicker of guilt passing over her expression. She heads off to change, leaving you on your bed, the weight of her offer hanging in the air. You sit there, lost in thought, waiting for her to finish getting ready. Despite her nights spent with Blaise, you both always made a point to walk to breakfast together.

When Pansy finally emerges, you both make your way to the Great Hall in quiet unison. The hum of conversation and the steady flow of students around you create a backdrop of normalcy.

“What did you do after you left last night?” Pansy asks, her gaze shifting from the bustling corridor to you.

“Had a good cry.” You reply, trying to keep your tone light despite the heaviness you feel.

Pansy’s brow furrows. “Babes, you shouldn’t have been alone.”

“I wasn’t.” You say, almost reluctantly.

“What do you mean?”

“Theo came back to the dorm with me,” you explain, your voice softer now. “He stayed with me, just… holding me, until I fell asleep.”

Pansy’s eyes widen slightly, and she falls quiet for a moment, “He did?”

You let out a soft hum, and Pansy grips at your hand, her touch both firm and reassuring. Her eyes reflect a mix of concern and guilt as she looks at you.

“I’m sorry,” she says, her voice softening with sincerity. “I should’ve come to check on you instead of leaving it to Theo. I didn’t realize your feelings for Mattheo were this strong. I thought it was a harmless crush, I really didn’t know.”

You shake your head slightly, your gaze dropping to where her fingers clasp yours. “It’s okay,” you murmur, trying to steady your voice. “Theo being there helped more than I thought it would. I’m glad I wasn’t alone.”

Pansy nods, her expression softening. “I wish I’d known,” she says quietly. “I would’ve gone with you immediately. I just thought you needed some space.”

You offer a small, appreciative smile, grateful for her concern. “Thanks, Pansy. It means a lot.”

Pansy pulls you into a warm hug, and despite the heaviness in your chest, you can’t help but chuckle at the unexpected show of affection. When she finally lets go, she takes your hand and leads you toward the Great Hall.

As you make your way to the Slytherin table, your spirits, momentarily lifted by Pansy’s support, are quickly deflated when you see who’s occupying your usual spot.

A heavy weight settles in your stomach as you spot Veronica nestled against Mattheo’s side, her head tilted as she whispers something into his ear. His laughter, genuine and warm, makes your appetite vanish. You decide that you’re not very hungry anymore.

You swallow hard, struggling to keep your emotions in check. Pansy gives your hand a comforting squeeze and tilts her head toward an empty seat beside Theo. Usually, Theo would be next to his best friend with you on the other side sandwiching Mattheo, but today he’s positioned next to Draco across from where he normally would be. You hesitate, not wanting to assume he saved the spot for you, but then Theo turns and offers you a gentle smile—a smile you’ve never seen him give anyone else. As you stand there, he reaches out with that soft smile, his hand extended to gently guide you into the seat beside him.

You settle into the seat beside Theo, and with a resigned sigh, you reach for some food to add to your plate. Even though your appetite is all but gone, you know it’s important to eat. That and you know Pansy would shove it down your throat if you didn’t.

Theo leans in slightly, his voice a low murmur as he meets your gaze. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you woke up,” he says quietly. “I had something I needed to take care of.”

“That’s alright,” You murmur, sending him a quick, soft smile. “Were you able to get any sleep last night?”

Theo hesitates, unsure whether to tell you that it was the best sleep he’s had in a while or simply agree. He settles for a nod, “Uh yeah. I slept pretty well. Did you?”

“As well as I could,” You shrug, “But it was nice having you there.” You send him a shy smile, your gaze dipping back down to the tea you’re stirring, and he struggles to resist the urge to offer to stay the night with you again.

“I meant what I said. I’m here for you in any way that you need me.” You turn towards him, your expression softening as you take in the genuine look on his face. Your lips part, but you can’t manage to get anything past them. The way he’s looking at you makes you nervous.

“Oi! What are you two whispering about?” Theo’s head snaps toward Draco, who is watching you both with a look of clear distaste at the way you were leaning into each other, gazing at one another so intently.

“Nothing.” Theo snaps out, and Draco raises an eyebrow at the sharpness in his tone. A sly grin begins to form on Draco’s face as he opens his mouth to speak, but Theo interrupts with a low murmur that you can’t quite make out. Draco doesn’t say anything, but faces his breakfast with a disgruntled look on his face.

Theo engages in a lively conversation with Enzo and Draco, leaving you content to eat in quiet. However, it’s not long before Veronica’s giggles start to cut through the silence, growing louder with each passing moment. When you finally look up, your heart sinks. Mattheo’s arm is wrapped around her waist, pulling her close as he murmurs something into her ear. She glances up at him, still laughing, and Mattheo leans in, pressing a kiss to her lips.

Overwhelmed, you instinctively reach for Theo’s thigh, your hand gripping it tightly as you try to steady yourself. Theo looks at you, startled by your sudden reaction, but you’re not meeting his gaze. Instead, he follows your line of sight to where Mattheo and Veronica are entwined, lost in their own world.

He drops his fork with a sigh, his hand immediately reaching out to grasp yours with a firm, reassuring grip. His touch is warm as he gently pulls your focus from the scene before you. Theo’s gaze lingers on the tear-brimmed edges of your eyes, his expression concerned. He glances at your friends, still lost in their animated conversation, and feels a pang of relief that they’re oblivious to the devastation written across your face.

“C’mon,” he murmurs, rising from his seat while maintaining a firm hold on your hand. With a quick, reassuring glance, he leans down to grab your bag. “I’ll walk you to class a bit early.”

Without a word, you follow him, casting a glance back at Pansy. You silently mouth ‘class’ to her as she watches you with curiosity from over your shoulder. If your friends notice the way Theo’s hand is intertwined with yours, they make no mention of it.

The moment you’re out in the hall, it feels like you can finally breathe again. A few tears slip down your cheeks, and you cling tightly to Theo’s hand as you walk, finding some comfort in the feel of him. You appreciate how he doesn’t push you to talk or ask any questions, just quietly staying by your side. There’s a relief in knowing he’s there if you need him, without the pressure to say anything.

After a couple of minutes of walking, you squeeze his hand and Theo glances over at you, “I’m not sure how I’m going to do this.”

He squeezes your hand back, “What do you mean?”

“Seeing them together,” You mumble. “It fucking sucks.”

“I’m sorry, fiore.” He speaks softly, wishing he had the right words to offer, some way to tell you how to get over someone. But the truth is, he’s still trying to figure it out himself.

“Will you help me get over him?” Theo’s steps falter slightly at your question, his heart aching at the helplessness in your voice. He swallows, the meaning of your words sinking in. You don’t seem to realize what it sounds like you’re asking him for.

He glances at you, unease settling in his stomach, “How exactly?” He briefly considers the fact that whatever you ask of him could make him fall for you more. But as long as it meant you were happy.

You hesitate, your gaze dropping to the floor as you search for the right words. “I don’t know,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “Just… be there, I guess. Help me forget about him. Distract me.”

Theo nods slowly, his mind racing. He wants to say something, to offer more than just his presence, but he knows that pushing too hard might make things worse. Instead, he gently squeezes your hand again, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in a comforting rhythm.

“I can do that,” he murmurs, his voice steady despite the nerves inside him. “I’m here for whatever you need.”

You offer him a small, grateful smile, and he can see the hint of sadness still lingering in your eyes. It breaks his heart, but he pushes those feelings aside. Right now, what matters is helping you heal, even if it means hiding his own growing feelings for you.

As you continue walking, Theo keeps you close, his hand never leaving yours. And though he doesn’t say it out loud, he silently vows to do whatever it takes to make you smile again, even if it means keeping his own heartache hidden in the process.

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

By the time you reach your dorm, exhaustion weighs heavily on you. You’ve spent the entire day with your head down, avoiding any sight of Mattheo and Veronica. The silence between you and Mattheo feels foreign; it’s the first time you’ve gone a whole day without speaking to him, and you’re unsure if he even noticed your absence.

Unfortunately, you share several classes with both Mattheo and, evidently, Veronica. The sound of her laugh has become something you never want to hear again.

You kick off your shoes, fatigue weighing heavily on your limbs as you move towards your bed. As you pass your desk, something catches your eye—a bundle of red flowers sitting on top of your books. You pause, your curiosity piqued, and approach the desk. With a gentle touch, you lift the bundle, revealing vibrant red peonies. Their rich color stands out against the soft light filtering through the window, and their subtle, sweet fragrance fills the air.

Your eyes catch a note nestled among the flowers. You bite your lip to hide a smile as you read his messy handwriting: your name followed by a simple heart.

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

Last night had been brutal. Sleep barely touched you; your mind was flooded with images of Mattheo and Veronica, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth. The thought of them together was unbearable—it made your head throb and your stomach churn. You hated it. Hated how it made you feel. But no matter how tightly you shut your eyes, your thoughts wouldn’t quiet. So you gave up on rest entirely, dragging yourself out of bed before the sun had even risen, hoping that a book might be enough to distract you from the images popping up in your head.

It was quiet in the common room—so quiet, you weren’t sure it would be enough to drown out the rancid thoughts circling your head. But you sat down anyway, curled up beside the fire with a blanket draped around your shoulders.

Reading ended up helping, so much so that you didn’t even hear anyone come in. You nearly jumped out of your skin when, out of the corner of your eye, you caught someone sitting in the chair beside you.

“You scared me.” You mutter, shooting him a look as he keeps his eyes fixed on the fire in front of him.

“Didn’t mean to,” Mattheo mumbles, finally glancing over at you. “What are you doing up?”

“I couldn’t sleep,” you say with a shrug, praying he won’t ask why. “I’m guessing it’s the same for you?”

He sighs, and you know the answer right away, “The usual.”

The words rise in your throat, begging to ask why he didn’t come to you—but you swallow them down, because deep down, you already know the answer. That was someone else’s job now.

So instead, you stay quiet—he’s never been one to talk after a nightmare. He prefers silence, sitting with it, letting it settle while he works through whatever’s clawing at him.

“I haven’t seen much of you.” You murmur after a good ten minutes of silence. It’s not easy to focus on reading when the person you’ve missed so achingly is sitting right in front of you. It was hard not to say anything—you’d barely made it through a page of your book, too distracted by stealing glances at him. You always thought he looked his most beautiful like this—hair tousled, eyes heavy with sleep. It was a kind of vulnerability only you were ever allowed to see.

He sighs, leaning back in the chair as his hand threads through his hair. “Been busy. You know how it is.” The smirk that tugs at his lips makes your stomach twist. You don’t know how it is—not really. You’ve been too busy waiting around for him to find out.

“Oh,” you choke out. “Well, maybe this weekend we could do something? It feels like it’s been ages since we’ve done anything.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, and your spirits lift for a second. “I’ll have to check in with Veronica first, though.”

“Check in?” You repeat, a frown tugging at your brow.

“I don’t want her thinking I’m neglecting our relationship, you know?” He explains, and you swallow down the scoff that threatens to leave your lips. Like you’re doing with ours?

“Sure, I understand.” You say, but you really don’t. But you have no right to voice that. He’s in a relationship now, and you have to learn to respect that.

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

It’s well past midnight when a knock echoes at your door. You sigh, adjusting your shorts as you reluctantly crawl off your bed, leaving your notes sprawled across the covers. As you swing the door open, you find Theo standing there, his gaze lifting from the floor to meet yours. A hesitant smile plays on his lips, as if he’s unsure whether he’s welcome at this late hour.

“Hi.” You greet him with a mix of confusion and warmth, offering a sweet smile. You pull the door open wider, and Theo’s gaze briefly flickers over your tiny sleep shorts and oversized shirt before he meets your eyes again.

“Pansy’s at our dorm.” He says, his voice soft.

You let out a quiet laugh, “I know that.”

He hesitates, searching for the right words. “I just thought... maybe you wouldn’t want to be alone tonight.”

“Oh,” you say, surprised, your lips parting as you glance over your shoulder into your room. Theo’s heart races, a wave of panic surging through him as he mentally scolds himself for not holding back. Offering to stay the night with you felt impulsive, but the moment he saw Pansy enter his dorm, his thoughts had gone straight to you.

“Shit,” Theo shifts uncomfortably, running a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs, the words tumbling out before he can stop them. “I just—when I saw Pansy, I couldn’t help but think you might need someone tonight. But if you’d rather be alone, I can go.”

After you asked Theo to help you get over Mattheo, you wondered if it had been too much to ask of him. But to your surprise, you’ve spent nearly every day of the past three weeks with Theo. You knew he had his own worries—between school, Quidditch, and the pressure from his father. But the morning after you asked for his help, he was there.

You never expected him to put so much effort into helping you move on from Mattheo, but you couldn’t be more grateful.

You hadn’t seen much of Mattheo since that early morning you’d run into him in the common room a couple of weeks ago. He’d been wrapped up with Veronica—you’d really only caught glimpses of them around the castle now and then, and the boys hadn’t stopped grumbling about their mate being stolen. It bothered you more than you cared to admit. You missed your best friend, even when you were agitated with him. Still, you were doing your best to respect his relationship, which meant spending more time with the group—minus the new couple. As it turned out, the distraction was a welcome one.

“No,” you quickly respond, a smile spreading across your face as you reach out and grasp his hand, gently tugging him inside. “I’m glad you came.”

Theo visibly relaxes at your touch, allowing you to gently pull him into the room. As the door clicks shut behind him, sealing out the quiet corridor, his initial hesitation melts away. He takes in the familiar surroundings of your room, which, despite being a bit messier than usual, feels even more comforting in the warm, dim light with you.

He swallows his disappointment as you release his hand to clear your bed of scattered notes. Standing there awkwardly, he tries to keep his gaze focused, making an effort not to let his eyes drift down your legs as you lean over to pick up the last piece of parchment.

After you place everything neatly on your desk, you turn to face him, leaning casually against the edge with a soft smile. “Are you okay with sharing my bed again?” you ask, your voice light but sincere. “Or if you’d prefer, I can sleep in Pansy’s bed so you’ll have more room.”

Theo bites his tongue, fighting to keep his voice steady and avoid sounding overeager. He doesn’t want more room; what he wants is to wake up with you pressed close against him, just as he did weeks ago. This time, though, he’s determined to stay and enjoy the feeling of you in his arms.

He clears his throat, “Your bed is fine.”

“I was actually about to head to bed before you knocked, but I can stay up if you wanted to do something.” You offer, your voice gentle and inviting.

Theo shakes his head slightly, a faint smile tugging at his lips, “Thanks, but I’m pretty wiped out from practice today.” He admits, and you can hear the exhaustion seeping through his words.

“You should’ve gone to bed at your dorm, you would’ve been asleep sooner.” You say with a slight frown as you notice just how tired he looks from the day.

“No,” He shrugs. “I wouldn’t have been able to sleep knowing you were here alone.”

If your heart could have melted, it would have done so right then.

Theo’s eyes hold yours for a moment longer before he glances away, almost as if he’s embarrassed by his own admission. You press your lips together, trying to hide the giddy smile threatening to break through. The idea that he cared that much for you made your insides flutter, warmth spreading through your chest.

Pushing away from the desk, you walk over to your bed and pull back the covers. Theo watches as you crawl in, adjusting the pillows before looking back at him. The unspoken question hangs in the air—are you going to join me?

He hesitates, slowly dropping his bag at the foot of your bed before moving closer to the edge. He’s slept in a bed with a girl before, but this feels wildly different. You make him nervous, and he has no idea how to hide it when he’s this close to you.

You settle into the covers, the mattress dipping slightly under your weight as you shift, and watch as Theo does the same, kicking off his shoes and slipping under the covers beside you.

Once the lights are off, silence settles between you, not at all uncomfortable. The only sound in the room is the soft rustling of sheets as Theo shifts beside you. You lie on your side, trying to make out his form in the darkness as your eyes slowly adjust. You can tell he’s lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling, lost in his own thoughts.

“I appreciate everything you’ve done for me over the past couple of weeks.” You say softly, and Theo turns his head to look at you.

“Yeah?”

You hum, reaching out your fingers to brush against his hand, and he takes it without hesitation, his grip warm and reassuring, “Yeah.”

It’s become a habit in the last couple of weeks—intertwining his fingers with yours. He would grab your hand every time he noticed your discomfort around Mattheo and Veronica. And at some point, you just started reaching for his hand yourself. You liked the warmth of his palm against yours and the way he’d brush his thumb over the back of your hand.

“You know I don’t mind, right? Spending all this time with you has been nice. We never really hung out much, just us two.” He says softly.

You nod, feeling a warmth spread through your chest at his words. “Yeah, I know. It’s been nice for me too,” you admit, your eyes meeting his in the dark. You both fall into silence, and it doesn’t take long before you drift off to sleep, your hand still clasped in his.

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

Panic hits as you suddenly realize the time—you’re running late. By now, you should already be at breakfast.

“Theo,” you whisper urgently, trying to shift out of his hold. The sheets are tangled around your legs, your back pressed firmly against his chest. His arms are locked around your waist, holding you close, and he’s not loosening his grip. His body is warm against yours, and even as you try to move, his grip tightens slightly, like he’s not ready to let go just yet. “Theo.”

“Fiore,” he murmurs, voice rough with sleep, and you freeze at the sound of that deeper, morning rasp. “Quit moving.”His grip tightens just enough to keep you still, his breath warm against the back of your neck.

“We have to get up,” you huff, trying to slip out of his arms, but Theo just pulls you back against him, his hold firm. “We’re late.”

“We’ll just skip.” He mutters, his voice still low and groggy. The idea is tempting—staying wrapped in his warmth instead of braving the cold corridors—but you sigh inwardly, knowing better.

You’d grown used to Theo’s small gestures of affection over the past few weeks, and you’d been just as affectionate in return. But waking up tangled in his arms like this felt different, more intimate. You were certain that once Theo fully woke up, he’d be a little sheepish about how closely he was holding you now.

“We really can’t,” you sigh, trying once more. “We need to get going—” Theo grumbles in response, finally loosening his grip and releasing you. A triumphant smile tugs at your lips as you slip out of bed, quickly heading to get ready. You racethrough brushing your teeth and pull on your uniform, skipping any attempt at fixing your hair in the rush. By the time you step out of the bathroom, Theo is standing by the bed, just finishing the last button on his shirt, looking just as disheveled as you feel.

You hurry Theo out of your room as he finishes brushing his teeth, and he complies, adjusting his tie as you both sprint toward the Great Hall. Just before joining the bustling breakfast crowd, you grab Theo by the arm, pausing to smooth down his disheveled hair.

“Is it a mess?” He asks, watching you closely as you stand on your toes to thread your fingers through his hair in an attempt to fix it.

“Just a bit,” you smile, stepping back on your heels and giving his hair a final nod of approval. “How’s mine?”

“Pretty,” Theo responds immediately, his gaze lingering. “I’ve never seen your hair like this before.”

You bite the inside of your cheek to stifle your smile at his compliment. You had let your hair fall naturally, and his reaction makes you feel unexpectedly warm.

You mumble a shy “thank you” before leading the way into the Great Hall, Theo trailing close behind. His cheeks are still tinged pink from the way your fingers had grazed through his hair, and he’s quietly grateful you haven’t seemed to notice. However, his relief is short-lived when he catches Draco’s eye, who immediately notices the pink tint and raises an eyebrow in amused surprise.

As you make your way to the table, Draco leans back in his seat with a smirk, raising an eyebrow. “Well, well, if it isn’t the lovebirds gracing us with their presence.”

“Fuck off.” Theo grumbles under his breath as he lets you slide into your new seat before settling in beside you. Ever since your usual spot had been taken, you’d claimed the one next to Theo, and not just in the Great Hall. You found yourself gravitating toward him in class, the common room—anywhere you could. It had become a newly formed habit, one that neither of you seemed keen on breaking.

“I should’ve figured that’s where you disappeared to last night,” Enzo says with a knowing smirk. “You two have been spending an awful lot of time together lately, haven’t you?”

You really had. Theo had taken to meeting you outside your last class of the day, content to walk around the castle or by the lake, just so you could avoid witnessing Mattheo and Veronica together. You had learned he was the perfect study partner—far more patient than Mattheo, who would get restless after twenty minutes and start pleading for a break. He seemed to remember every little detail you shared, from how you took your tea to the smallest quirks about yourself.

He’d been so attentive to you that you overheard some girls in the year below talking about how Theo Nott was no longer single.

Theo gives him a flat, unimpressed glare, clearly not in the mood for Enzo’s comments, “Yet again, fuck off.”

“Well, have you two got anything to tell us?” Blaise prodded, a smug grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. He was teasing, sure—but there was a hint of hope beneath it, a quiet wish that the two of you would finally admit to being together. Theo was the happiest Blaise had ever seen him, and he knew it had everything to do with you. It always did.

Theo looks up from serving himself breakfast, shooting Blaise a sharp, warning glance. He could handle the teasing from the boys himself, but he didn’t want you to be caught in the crossfire, especially if it made you uncomfortable.

“No.” Theo replies flatly, his gaze flicking to you. You return it with an amused, yet sympathetic smile. Unconsciously, a soft, faint smile tugs at his lips, a detail the boys are quick to notice.

“Are you sure? Because—” Blaise starts but is quickly interrupted.

“I think you two would be perfect together,” Veronica cuts in, her voice dripping with an overly sweet tone as she flashes a saccharine smile. “Don’t you think so, Matty?” she adds, glancing over at Mattheo with a raised eyebrow.

Your eyes meet Mattheo’s for a fleeting moment, and he holds your gaze. You barely registered them, so absorbed in the boys’ teasing of you and Theo. And honestly, you’re still unsettled by what he said the other day—his comment about not wanting to neglect his relationship with Veronica. What about your friendship? Was that something that was okay to neglect?

Clearly, as much as you tried to shake it, there was still some bitterness there.

For just a moment, there’s something unreadable in his gaze—something that makes your heart falter—but it vanishes as quickly as it appeared.

“Yeah,” he agrees, his gaze shifting between you and Theo while Veronica cozies up to him, resting her head on his shoulder. “You two would be.”

A knot tightens in your stomach, and your appetite evaporates. The lightness you’d felt just moments before vanishes, replaced by a heavy weight. Even though you knew Mattheo didn’t have feelings for you, hearing him so openly agree with the idea of you with Theo stings more than you expected.

As long as you’d known him, Mattheo had never been in a serious relationship, let alone had a girlfriend. Now that he was with Veronica, it was painfully clear that you were never truly an option for him. If you had been, he would have made a move. You had dropped hints for years, and his playful flirting had always kept your hopes alive.

But maybe that’s all your relationship was ever meant to be—a friendship with a hint of flirtation. If that’s the case, you needed to move on. Fixating on a guy who now had a girlfriend was a losing battle. If you weren’t careful, you might risk losing the friendship you valued so much.

You’re so caught up in your thoughts, pushing the food around on your plate, that you don’t even hear the chatter of your friends going on around you. It isn’t until Enzo tosses a grape at you that you glance up, “Are you coming tomorrow?”

You immediately know he’s referring to the Quidditch match. You’d missed the last game, which had surprised everyone, but you weren’t in the right head space to watch Veronica cheer for Mattheo.

You nod. “I planned on it.”

“Good,” Pansy interjects matter-of-factly. “I missed having you there.” You offer her a smile, but it falters when you see Veronica nudge Mattheo. He clears his throat and turns to you, his expression unreadable.

“Speaking of the game,” Mattheo starts, his voice slicing through the breakfast chatter. “I need my jersey back.”

Your brows knit together in confusion, and it takes you a moment to find your voice, “I don’t understand—”

“My jersey,” Mattheo repeats, his gaze steady as he watches you. “I need it for tomorrow.”

“Did something happen to yours?” You ask, caught off guard. You’d always kept one of his jerseys while he kept the other. It had become a sort of tradition between you.

Mattheo hesitates momentarily, a flicker of something like regret crossing his features. “No, it’s just... I need it back now.”

“Oh.” You say softly, your voice barely more than a whisper. Veronica’s eyes dart between the two of you, her brow knitting in irritation as she takes in the way Mattheo’s gaze lingers on you.

Theo’s eyes watch you with careful intensity. And when he catches the flash of hurt in your expression, he reaches out and intertwines his fingers with yours beneath the table, his touch reminding you that he’s there if you need him. You squeeze his hand back immediately.

“I’m wearing it,” Veronica interjects, her tone bordering on something nasty. “I’m his girlfriend. It would be a bit strange if you kept wearing it.”

Your gaze flickers to hers, and a familiar twist of dislike coils in your stomach. You hadn’t been her biggest fan when you first met, but you’d tried to make an effort. That morning, after seeing Mattheo in the common room, you’d even asked Veronica if she wanted to hang out. You told yourself it was a healthy step—getting to know her might help you understand what Mattheo saw in her. Maybe if you saw why he’d fallen for her, it would be easier to let go. The feelings you had for Mattheo? Those were going to be long gone soon.

But she’d barely spared you a glance, tossing a dismissive look over her shoulder before slamming her book shut and rising to face you, “When I said we’d have a girls’ night, I didn’t actually mean it.”

Your lips parted, confusion knitting your brows. “It doesn’t have to be a girls’ night,” you offered, trying to keep your tone light. “I just thought maybe we could grab lunch—just the two of us, or even with Mattheo, if that’s more comfort—”

“I don’t have time,” she cut in sharply, lifting her books in emphasis. “Besides, tonight’s date night for Matty and me. It’d be weird if you tagged along.”

You bit back the retort—“I didn’t say tonight”—deciding her tone said enough. You’d tried, but her attitude had made things crystal clear. You didn’t like her—and nothing was changing that.

Your friends exchange glances, their confusion palpable as they watch Mattheo allow Veronica to speak to you with such disdain. They’ve seen him start fights over someone supposedly speaking badly of you, so this new passivity is surprising. Enzo’s eyes widen in disbelief, and he mouths a quick ‘what the hell’ to Draco, whose puzzled expression mirrors his own.

Everyone, except Mattheo it seems, has noticed that Veronica has gone from bright and friendly to curt and possessive over the past few weeks. At first, everyone agreed she seemed sweet—confused about how she ended up with Mattheo, but sweet nonetheless. But the longer the relationship went on, the more Veronica’s personality seemed to shift. It became clear she wasn’t a fan of them, especially not you.

When you remain silent, Veronica sighs impatiently, “Did you hear me—”

“Yeah, I get it,” you snap, your frustration evident. You turn your gaze back to Mattheo. “I’ll give it to you later.”

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

You spent all your classes obsessing over returning Mattheo’s jersey, and no matter how hard you tried, it was getting under your skin. It wasn’t just any jersey—it was the one Mattheo had given you, the one you’d worn countless times. His new relationship with Veronica had stung, but this felt even worse. Maybe it was because taking back the jersey felt like a tangible sign that Mattheo was serious about Veronica, and it drove home the reality of how much things had changed.

Logically, you understood why it was reasonable. Having another girl wear your boyfriend’s jersey would be uncomfortable, and if the roles were reversed, you’d feel the same way. But knowing that didn’t make it any easier. You found Veronica irritating, and the thought of giving up something that meant so much to you—both the jersey and Mattheo—was unbearable.

By the time you made it to your dorm, you were in a foul mood. The plan had been simple: stay holed up all day and hope that, by tomorrow, you’d be completely over Mattheo Riddle.

You’d barely been lounging on your bed for ten minutes when the door burst open. “Get ready, we’re heading down to the Black Lake,” Pansy announced the moment she stepped inside. You glanced up to see her toss her bag onto the bed before rifling through her clothes like she hadn’t just disrupted your entire plan for the day.

“Sorry, this is what I’m doing for the rest of the day.” Pansy looks up and quirks an eyebrow at you—an unmistakable This? Really? written all over her face

“It’s not. I told the boys you were coming.”

“Why?” You ask, annoyance flickering through your veins.

“Because you’ve been in a mood since breakfast and you need a distraction,” she says, tossing a black bikini onto her bed before heading over to your side of the room to dig through your wardrobe. “Besides, it’s nice out, and I need a tan.”

“A mood? Did you not hear him? He wants his jersey back!” You snap, sitting up in bed and flinging your arm toward the garment draped over the back of your chair.

“I know, babe,” Pansy says with a sigh. “But what’s the point in arguing? It’s not going to change anything. His girlfriend already doesn’t like you, and if you push it, you’ll end up seeing him even less.”

She barely spares you a glance as she goes through your clothes, and your stomach sinks. You’ve hardly seen Mattheo as it is—but the thought of not speaking him at all? That’s the last thing you want.

It’s not long before you’re spreading out your towel and sinking down beside Pansy. She’s already reclined, sunglasses balanced on the bridge of her nose, a satisfied sigh slipping past her lips as the sun warms her skin.

“I needed this.” Pansy hums, and you glance over at her.

“I think it’d be a lot more relaxing if they weren’t here.” You mutter, your gaze flicking to where Mattheo sits behind Veronica, obediently rubbing sunscreen on her back as she directs him like a puppet.

Pansy cracks one eye open, follows your line of sight, and groans. “They weren’t supposed to be. Mattheo must’ve overheard the guys talking about it.”

Your jaw tightens as you watch him finish with her shoulders, leaning forward to press a kiss to her neck. She lets out a high-pitched squeal of his name, and suddenly, you regret not fighting harder to stay curled up in your dorm.

“Would you just relax?” Pansy murmurs, sliding her sunglasses down to eye you properly. She gives your t-shirt a light tug, then pinches at the hem of your shorts. “Take these off—you look like you’re melting.”

Something sharp about how it must be your anger, is on the tip of your tongue. But Pansy adjusts her sunglasses and rolls onto her stomach, clearly signaling the conversation is over.

You sigh, glancing over at the boys seated a little ways from Mattheo and Veronica. It’s obvious from their expressions that they’re talking about them. A part of you bristles instinctively, ready to defend Mattheo—but you shove it down before it can surface.

Theo’s eyes are locked on Mattheo, anger simmering just beneath the surface as he watches him drape himself over Veronica—right in front of you. It’s all Theo’s been able to think about these past few weeks: keeping you distracted, keeping your eyes on him. Because if you’re looking at him, maybe you won’t notice just how completely enamored Mattheo is with a girl that isn’t you.

He doesn’t get it—how Mattheo could have you as an option and yet choose someone else. It drives him mad, keeps him up at night. Because if he were in Mattheo’s position, there wouldn’t be a choice to make. It would be you. Always.

He’s so focused on his thoughts that he barely registers Enzo nudging him.

“Huh?” He mutters, distracted, but his words catch in his throat the moment he follows Enzo’s subtle nod toward you. Wrapped in a cherry-red bikini, shoving your denim shorts down your thighs, completely unaware of the way the sight knocks the breath out of him.

His irritation simmers into something else entirely—something heavier, something that sparks low in his stomach.

A low whistle sounds beside him, and Theo’s head snaps toward Draco, who’s shamelessly smirking in your direction. “Salazar, I love the view on days like this,” he drawls.

Irritation flares hot in his chest, and without thinking, Theo snaps, “Shut the fuck up,” before pushing to his feet and heading straight for you.

He doesn’t have much of a plan when he gets to you—just knows he’d rather not sit there while the guys keep eyeing you like that.

“Fiore.” He greets, and you blink up at him through your sunglasses, taking a second to admire him. Exposed skin and defined biceps completely short-circuit your brain, and it takes a moment to catch up. Pansy shoots you a look at how long it takes you to answer him.

“Theo,” you hum, and his lips twitch into a smile. Pansy’s eyes flick between the two of you before she pushes herself up, calling over her shoulder that she’s going to say hi to Blaise. You watch as she saunters over, drops to her knees beside him, and leans down to press a kiss to his lips. Blaise, lying back without a care in the world, welcomes it, while Draco and Enzo groan dramatically, muttering that the two of them need a room.

You giggle quietly to yourself, amused by your friends, as Theo settles onto the towel Pansy abandoned. For a moment, the two of you sit in silence, gazes cast toward the Black Lake, letting the sun warm your skin while birdsong fills the space between you. With Theo beside you, the tension in your chest begins to ease. You’re just about to sink back into the towel when another one of Veronica’s shrill calls of Mattheo’s name cuts through the peace, grating in your ears.

You let out a soft sigh, drawing Theo’s attention. He glances over at you, then follows your gaze to where Mattheo sits behind Veronica, still murmuring something in her ear as she leans back against him.

“Do you want to swim?” Theo asks, then immediately winces at how blunt it sounds. He wishes his brain didn’t short-circuit every time you were near—that he could string together a sentence without sounding like he’s forgotten how to speak. Around you, he feels like a third year all over again. There’s a flash of relief when your eyes finally shift to him.

You glance toward the lake, hesitation written all over your face. “It looks freezing,” you say, trying to keep your tone casual. You’re not about to admit you suck at swimming—it’s easier to pretend that it’s just too cold.

He huffs a quiet laugh. “It won’t be that bad.”

Still unsure, you give him a shrug, and Theo pushes himself up, holding out a hand for you to take.

“That water’s gonna be freezing!” Blaise calls after you, and you shoot Theo a look that clearly says told you so.

Threading your fingers through Theo’s feels almost jarring—jolting in a way that catches you off guard. It’s a little unnerving, knowing all your friends are watching as you walk hand in hand, though it’s not like they haven’t already noticed how inseparable you and Theo have become. Still, there’s a flicker of satisfaction when, out of the corner of your eye, you catch Mattheo turning to watch the two of you walk toward the water. For once, his eyes aren’t on Veronica—they’re on you.

You stop a few feet from the edge, eyeing the water warily before taking a slow step back, a sweet smile tugging at your lips as you glance up at him.

“You know what, I’ll gladly watch you swim by yourself.”

Theo casts a look of disbelief your way, “You walked all the way down here with me just to turn me down?”

You shrug, an amused smile tugging at your lips. “I think you’ll survive on your own.”

“No, I really don’t think I will.” His voice is playful, but there’s a glint in his eye as he steps into the water, holding out a hand to you.

You wrinkle your nose and shake your head. “Get Enzo to come out there with you.” You turn, ready to call for Enzo, but you don’t get the chance.

Theo wraps an arm around your waist, the other slipping behind your knees as he effortlessly lifts you off the ground.

You let out a startled shriek, arms instinctively flying around his shoulders. “Theo!” you gasp, breathless with surprise and laughter.

If your friends hadn’t been paying attention before, they definitely were now. A few whistles and teasing cheers ring out from the group, but you can’t tell who they’re from. You’re too focused on Theo, clinging to him with a mix of panic and laughter.

“If you drop me…” You warn, tightening your grip around his shoulders as he wades deeper into the water.

“I’m not going to drop you.” He says with a low chuckle—and just as the words leave his mouth, the cool water brushes your back, pulling a startled squeak from your lips.

“I’m serious! I barely know how to swim. No one ever taught me, and I cried so much every time my parents dropped me off at swim lessons that they just gave up.” You confess quietly, eyes flicking nervously to the water lapping around Theo’s knees before finally meeting his gaze.

To your surprise, he doesn’t tease. Instead, he chuckles softly, shaking his head as he adjusts his grip, gently shifting you until you can wrap your legs around his waist. Your arms loop securely around his neck, and he gives you that soft, familiar smile. The one he saves only for you. It was quickly becoming one of your favorite things.

“I’ll just keep holding you then. How’s that sound?” You nod, eyes drifting over his sun-kissed skin and tousled waves. He looked beautiful like this, devastatingly so.

“As long as you don’t drop me, I’m okay with that.” You murmur softly, and Theo’s smile shifts—gentler now, quieter. His eyes flick down to your lips, so quickly you almost convince yourself you imagined it.

Because there’s no way Theo Nott would be thinking about kissing you.

That just wasn’t possible.

You watch him closely, heart ticking faster as his eyes slowly trace your face. Goosebumps rise along your skin when his hand glides down your side, over your hip, then settles firmly on your thigh.

“Theo.”

“Hm?”

“What are you doing?”

He glances at you, eyes glinting with something unreadable.

“Adjusting my grip,” he says casually. “Wouldn’t want to drop you.”

It’s a bullshit excuse. He didn’t need to adjust his grip—he was holding you just fine. And maybe it was wrong, but he wanted a reason to let his hand skim over your skin, to feel what it would be like to touch you the way he would if you were his.

You don’t seem to care though.

You hum in understanding, and without thinking, your fingers drift up to toy with the soft strands of hair at the nape of his neck. Theo watches you closely, eyes tracing every detail of your face—committing it to memory, unsure when he’ll get to have you this close again.

“I was wondering—”

“Mattheo!” The shout cuts through the air, and Theo flinches at the sound of Veronica’s voice, wincing as a splash of cold water hits his back. Instinctively, he pulls you closer, turning his body to shield you from the spray.

“Fuck, Mattheo,” you grumble, shooting an irritated look his way. “That’s freezing.” It’s not that cold, but you’re annoyed. He’s your best friend, he knows all about your failed attempts at learning to swim and how much you really, really hate having water splashed on you.

“Sorry,” he says with a shrug, though he doesn’t look the least bit apologetic. His eyes flick briefly to Theo, then drop, as if he can see right through the murky water to where Theo’s hand is gripping your thigh.

“You’ve got Theo to keep you warm,” he says, nodding toward him. But his eyes stay locked on yours. There’s a sharp edge to his voice, one Theo doesn’t miss. It’s subtle, but it’s there, like the sight of you in Theo’s arms is bothering him more than he wants to admit.

Theo feels the subtle shift in your body—the way you tense slightly in his arms.

Veronica calls his name, and after a brief hesitation, Mattheo finally tears his gaze away from you and swims toward her. But your mood has already soured, and all you want now is to retreat to your towel and dry off.

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

You barely slept, spending most of the night replaying every possible scenario of how returning Mattheo’s jersey might go. Your mind wouldn’t settle, not after watching him and Veronica at the lake, circling each other in the water, sharing quiet conversations. Every so often, if you were lucky, you caught a glimpse of Mattheo pressing his lips to hers.

You were grateful for your sunglasses, hiding the tears gathering at the corners of your eyes. You weren’t sure if it was jealousy or frustration—or a painful mix of both.

Whatever it was, it sucked.

By the time you got back to your dorm after a day full of classes, you were wound so tight you feared you might snap.

You dreaded going to the game. The thought of returning the jersey was uncomfortable, and the idea of seeing Mattheo with Veronica made it even harder to face.

What you hoped for most was a moment alone with him, to talk without Veronica hovering nearby. But after yesterday, you knew the odds of that were slim. Watching her draped all over Mattheo at the lake had been enough proof. If today was anything like that, you wouldn’t get a second alone with him.

You considered skipping the match entirely. However, you and Pansy had made plans to sit together, and you’d also promised Mattheo you’d return his jersey. As much as you wanted to avoid the situation, you knew you had to go.

You were so irritated as you snatched Mattheo’s jersey off the back of your chair that you hadn’t even noticed the red peonies and green jersey sitting on your bed at first. It wasn’t until you tossed your bag aside and went to fix your hair that the unexpected sight caught your eye.

Your eyes landed on the familiar green jersey, the back facing up so you could clearly see ‘Nott’ stitched in bold, unmistakable letters. A smile tugged at your lips, your earlier frustration fading as you reached for the flowers, their soft petals brushing against your fingers. Carefully, you lifted them, already picturing them in a vase on your desk.

There’s a card tucked between the blooms, and you smile at Theo’s handwriting: Fiore—wear this for me tonight?

Suddenly, the idea of going to the match didn’t seem so miserable anymore.

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

“Finally!” Veronica calls out the moment she spots you, her voice laced with impatience. “I was starting to think you weren’t going to show up in time.” She stands outside the boys’ locker room, arms crossed like she’s been waiting for ages.

You resist the urge to roll your eyes, “I told Mattheo I would be here.”

“I know,” She says, her tone short, before sticking out her hand expectantly. “I can take that.”

You hesitate, wanting to wait and give it to Mattheo yourself, but you know she’ll be the one wearing the jersey tonight. It feels pointless to hold onto it any longer. With a reluctant sigh, you hand it over, and Veronica’s lips curl into a triumphant smile as she takes it from you.

“Thanks.” She chirps, instantly brighter now that she’s got what she wanted. You watch as she slips the jersey on, and a slight bitterness creeps into your chest at the sight of it on her. She finishes adjusting the jersey and looks up, sending you a smug smirk that makes your stomach twist.

It’s incredibly frustrating to watch her once-sweet attitude crack and crumble right in front of you—while Mattheo remains completely oblivious. You don’t understand it. Besides being his friend, which lately hasn’t meant much, there’s no reason for her to dislike you. Yet she does, and you can’t figure out why.

Sure, you were close with Mattheo, but if the jersey was any indication, she had no real reason to worry.

You were nothing but a friend to Mattheo, even though you desperately wished that wasn’t the case.

She eyes the jersey you’re wearing, quirking an eyebrow as if she’s about to say something snide. You brace yourself, waiting for the comment, but then her face lights up as her attention shifts to something—or someone—behind you.

You turn just as she brushes past you, wrapping her arms around Mattheo’s neck and pulling him down for a kiss. The sight makes your stomach roll, and you quickly avert your gaze, unable to bear watching them. Her giggles fill the air, loud and lovesick, a blatant declaration that he’s hers now.

“Whose jersey are you wearing?” Your eyes snap over to Mattheo, who has one arm around Veronica’s waist as he looks at you curiously. Her arms are tightly wrapped around his neck, and she looks frustrated that his attention is on you.

“Mine.” You glance over and see Theo approaching, a flicker of relief washing over you. A genuine smile spreads across your face, and before you think it through, you wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him into a hug. He looks momentarily surprised but quickly gathers himself, encircling your waist and holding you firmly.

You lean back slightly to meet his gaze, your voice softening. “Thank you for the flowers. Again.”

A warm, gentle smile blooms on his lips, the kind he reserves just for you. “Anytime, fiore.”

A moment lingers between you, where your eyes lock and soft smiles play on your lips. But the spell shatters at Veronica’s excited squeal of Mattheo’s name. You clear your throat, gently pulling away and offering Theo a fleeting smile, even though you sense his disappointment at the loss of your warmth.

Your gaze drifts toward Mattheo, who leans in to press a kiss against Veronica’s lips, a pang of longing twisting in your chest. You exhale slowly, then look back at Theo. “Are you nervous?”

“Not really,” he replies with a casual shrug, though you catch a flicker of something beneath his calm exterior. “But if I do get nervous, I’ll just search for the pretty girl wearing my name.”

Your lips part in surprise at Theo’s bold flirting, a playful spark igniting in your chest. You try to mask your smile, but it’s no use—Theo sees right through you, a knowing grin spreading across his face as he revels in your reaction.

“Good luck. I’ll wait for you after.” You lean in, nearly whispering as you press a kiss against Theo’s cheek, but in your nervousness, your lips brush against the corner of his mouth instead. The contact sends a spark of warmth through you, but before he can react, you pull away, leaving him to watch you walk off, the letters of his last name boldly displayed on your back.

He stands there for a second, staring after you, but as he turns to leave, he catches sight of Mattheo, who is watching you with an intensity that makes his heart sink.

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

You’re exhausted. Keeping track of both Mattheo and Theo is proving to be more tiring than you anticipated. You’re used to focusing solely on Mattheo during the game, but tonight, your attention keeps shifting to Theo.

“Are you even listening to her?” Pansy scoffs, jabbing you in the ribs.

The unexpected nudge jolts you from your thoughts, and you turn to her, puzzled. “What?”

“Veronica. Are you paying attention?” Pansy glances over, raising an eyebrow.

You shake your head, “No. I didn’t even realize she was sitting nearby.”

“Listen to her. She’s been bragging about Mattheo.” That catches your attention. You follow Pansy’s finger as she points, and your gaze lands on Veronica a few rows ahead. As you focus, her voice cuts through the noise of the crowd, loud and unmistakable, carrying clearly despite the distance.

“Do you even know how long I waited to get him?” Veronica’s voice rises above the noise, smug and self-satisfied. You glance over just in time to see her gather her hair into a high ponytail, making sure the name on her back is fully visible. “Honestly, the effort was exhausting,” she adds with a dramatic sigh, as if she’s endured a great hardship.

The girls around her practically explode with excitement, bombarding her with questions—how did she do it? How long did it take? What’s he like? Their voices blend into a high-pitched buzz, and you roll your eyes, feeling the irritation build as you turn your attention back to the match, hoping to tune them out.

Pansy nudges you again, her voice low and insistent. “Keep listening.”

“No.” You grit out.

Pansy sighs, “Why not?”

You exhale sharply. “Because I really don’t want to hear her go on and on about him anymore.” The bitterness in your voice is hard to hide, but you don’t care. You’re too tired of hearing his name on her lips.

“You’ve barely listened!”

“It was enough for me.”

“There’s something off about the way she talks about him,” Pansy pushes, leaning in to try and catch your eye, but you continue looking forward and watching Theo. “I don’t like it.”

“I mean, I don’t either. But I’m not going to keep listening in.”

“Why?” Pansy cries out incredulously, gaining the attention of some people around you.

“Because I’m supposed to be getting over him, and I don’t think listening in as his girlfriend talks about him will do that.”

“But what if something’s off? What if she’s blackmailing him or something?” Pansy asks, before she gasps and turns to face you fully. “What if he’s dating her to make you jealous?”

“Do you really think Mattheo Riddle would allow someone to blackmail him? And secondly, I don’t think that’s the case.”

“You never know. I always thought he had feelings for you.”

“Pansy. This is what I’m talking about,” You snap, sending a warning look to your best friend. “Mattheo can take care of himself, you and I both know that. There’s no way I’ll ever get over him if I start making up theories about why he’s with his girlfriend. Veronica’s…. something else, we know that, but that doesn’t mean she’s not with him for a genuine reason.”

Pansy exhales in frustration, adjusting in her seat as she finally turns her attention to the match. “Alright, I get it. I’ll just share my theories with Blaise from now on.”

A smirk tugs at your lips as you imagine Blaise enduring the same conversation, likely rolling his eyes in exasperation, “Fine by me.”

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

Thanks to Theo’s swift catch of the Snitch, Slytherin secured the win, and the stands erupted in cheers. You’d screamed so loudly in celebration that you’re certain he heard you, even from across the pitch. The thrill of the moment filled you with energy, and you felt a surge of pride as he glanced your way after the catch.

You were eager to congratulate him, but held back, letting the others swarm him first. Instead, you were leaned against the wall outside the locker room, waiting for a moment alone with him. As you stood there, it wasn’t long before your mind wandered. You found yourself watching him from afar—his chest still heaving from the intensity of the match, hair tousled and damp with sweat. There was something about the way he looked after a game that had your thoughts trailing off in a completely different direction.

It brought you back to yesterday—the way he looked, water glistening on his skin, fingers running through his damp waves, and eyes crinkling as he smiled at you. The memory sent a rush of heat straight through you.

Had Theo Nott always been this gorgeous?

When he turns and catches your eye, you fully expect him to give the usual ‘wait a minute’ gesture, like Mattheo always does. But instead, to your surprise, Theo pushes straight through the crowd. In an instant, he’s in front of you, pulling you up into his arms. You let out a shriek of his name through laughter, completely caught off guard by the sudden hug, his embrace warm and tight as if he’d been waiting for this moment all along.

“You did so good!” You cry out as he sets you down. When he grins at you, it’s almost enough to make you swoon; the sight of post-match Theo is something you hadn’t realized you’d been missing. The blend of adrenaline and joy radiating from him leaves you momentarily breathless.

“It’s because you wore my jersey,” he shrugs, a teasing glint in his eyes. “I didn’t get to say it earlier, but you look really good in it.”

You nearly melt, “Does that mean I get to wear it at the next game?”

“Please do, love,” he says, his tone suddenly softer, the endearment dripping with warmth like honey. There’s a sincerity in his gaze that sends a flutter through your chest. “You make it look far better than I ever could.”

You don’t get the chance to respond as Enzo suddenly appears by his side, rambling on about something animatedly. With a quick tug, Enzo pulls Theo away, but not before he glances back, shouting over his shoulder about how he’ll see you later.

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

“Y’good?” Theo looks up from the fire, his gaze shifting to Blaise, who’s now standing beside the couch. The flames had been the only company he’d had for hours. It was late—he couldn’t say exactly how late—just that the common room had emptied long ago, and he’d been sitting there long after everyone else had gone to bed after celebrating their win.

“Yeah,” Theo sighs, his eyes drifting back to the flickering flames. “I’m good.” His words are hollow, almost as if he’s trying to convince himself. Blaise watches him for a moment, studying the tension in his posture, before quietly sitting down in the empty space beside him. Neither of them speaks, both of them watching as the flames dance.

Blaise leans back, glancing at Theo before breaking the silence. “You don’t look it,” he says, his voice calm but direct.

“Just thinking.” Theo just shrugs, his shoulders barely lifting, the gesture heavy with indifference. Blaise watches him for a moment, waiting, giving him the space to say something more—but the silence stretches.

“About her?”

Theo’s reaction is answer enough. He exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair with a tired frustration. For a brief moment, he pauses, elbows resting on his knees, his head cradled in his hands.

He drops his hands slowly, lifting his head to glance over at Blaise, his eyes tired, “When am I not?”

Blaise smiles slightly at his words. He’s known for years that Theo liked you—it was impossible to miss. From the moment Mattheo introduced you, Blaise vividly remembers the way Theo looked at you, as if his breath had been knocked from his lungs.

He was completely undone by one glimpse of you.

And if that hadn’t been enough of a giveaway, the little things Theo did for you over the years certainly were—grabbing your favorite sweets from Hogsmeade when you couldn’t make the trip, offering help before you even had to ask, his gaze always seeking you out no matter how crowded the room. It was undeniable, even if Theo never spoke it aloud.

“Listen, mate,” Blaise begins, casting a quick glance at Theo, gauging his expression before continuing. “Do you think this is a good idea?”

“What?”

“Helping her get over Mattheo while you’re in love with her yourself.” Blaise’s words hang in the air, and Theo’s jaw tightens instinctively, a storm of emotions flickering across his face.

He wants to deny that he’s in love with you, but deep down, he knows it’s pointless. The truth is unquestionable; he’s been drawn to you for years, but these last few months have sent him falling even deeper.

How was he ever supposed to get over you when every moment only pulled him deeper? The way your fingers slipped so easily into his, like they belonged there, the soft curve of your lips as his thumb traced gentle circles over your skin. How sleeping over in your dorm had somehow become routine—he was sure Pansy was staying with Blaise on purpose to give him space with you.

It’s why he hasn’t left this couch in hours, struggling with the weight of his feelings. The realization hits him hard: he’s completely fallen for you, and he’s trapped. Because in your eyes, he’s just a friend, and that thought feels like a punch to the gut.

“She asked me to, and I can’t say no to her,” Theo replies, his voice laced with a mix of frustration and resignation. “I’ve never been able to.”

“You’re going to get yourself hurt if you’re not careful.” Blaise warns, his tone serious.

“We’ve long passed that point.” Theo sighs.

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

The knock at your door isn’t much of a surprise—you figured that as soon as Pansy left to meet Blaise, Theo would come knocking. It had become part of your routine over the past month. In fact, he had become the person you saw the most.

Walk to the Great Hall? Sit by Theo. Evenings in the common room? Always with your friends, sat beside Theo. As soon as Pansy disappeared to the boys’ dorm, that was Theo’s cue to show up at your door.

He was so deeply ingrained into your life that it was almost hard to remember what things were like before him.

“I think this is a record—” You begin with a grin, flinging open the door—only for your smile to falter.

It’s not Theo.

Mattheo stands there instead, a split lip and a bruise blooming across his cheekbone in deep shades of purple and red. It looks painful, and you wince at the sight of him.

A disbelieving scoff escapes him. “You were waiting for him?”

One hand braces against the doorframe as he glances over his shoulder, like he’s expecting Theo to come around the corner. “Can you two do nothing without each other?”

“Do you need something, Mattheo?”

He turns back to you, the bitterness in his expression fading as he lifts his fingers to wipe at the blood on his lip. It smears more than it cleans, and you scrunch your nose slightly in distaste. A month ago, you would’ve pulled him into your dorm without hesitation—but now, you’re angry with him.

It’s on the tip of your tongue to tell him to fuck off, that it’s no longer his business who you’re waiting for. Not when you’ve barely seen him, and every attempt to talk has been ignored. Ever since that day at the lake, he’s been even more distant than before. And if he so much as looks like he might breathe in your direction, Veronica is there, tugging him away. It’s mind-boggling. Up until now, you hadn’t let yourself believe it, but maybe this really is how your school year ends—with you and Mattheo no longer friends.

“I got into a fight—” You cross your arms over your chest, giving him a deadpan look.

“—and I just couldn’t bring myself to go to the infirmary. Not when this has always been your job.”

There’s a part of you that bristles at him calling it your job to take care of him, but you know he’s right. After every fight, he’d show up at your door, and you’d patch him up as best you could. But things are different now, and it doesn’t feel right to take care of him when he’s all but disappeared from your life.

“It’s not my job anymore. Not when you have a girlfriend.” You move to shut the door, but Mattheo shoots his hand out, stopping it before it can close.

“Love, please.” Your stomach lurches at the way the nickname rolls off his tongue—directed at you this time. “I need your help.”

You hesitate, staring at him for a long moment, weighing just how stupid of an idea this might be. But Mattheo’s pull on you—his presence, his voice, the familiarity—is still too strong. With a sigh, you step aside and swing the door open before gesturing to your bed.

There’s not a whole lot you can do besides blot his lip with a clean cloth and apply some cream to the bruise on his cheek, but it’s always seemed to work for him. By the time you’ve dampened the cloth with warm water and gathered what you need, Mattheo is already settled on your bed, staring at the wall of polaroids.

It’s different now. And something bitter churns in Mattheo’s stomach as he takes in the changes to your photo wall. Some of the pictures of the two of you have been replaced, now filled with snapshots of you and Theo. One shows you curled into Theo’s side, grinning widely at the camera as you squish his cheeks together with your hand. Another captures you sandwiched between Theo and Enzo, all three of you wearing sunglasses and flipping off the camera.

But it’s the photo of you and Theo at the lake that makes his chest tighten. Your legs are wrapped around Theo as he holds you up in the water, he’s smiling at the camera, and you’re pressing a kiss against his cheek. You’re wearing that red bikini—the one that had knocked the air from his lungs the moment he saw you in it. He remembers how stunned he was, how he’d nearly forgotten Veronica was beside him until she slapped his arm and muttered something sharp.

“She needs a bigger size,” she’d said. “It’s too tight on her hips. I should give her one of my old ones.”

He hadn’t said a word, but the way his eyes stayed locked on you had said enough. He didn’t agree—he thought you were perfect.

“What’d you get in a fight over?” Mattheo’s eye shift over to you, settling down onto the bed next to him and showing him the cloth, a warning you were going to touch him before bringing the damp, white cotton to his lip. Mattheo sucks in a breath and watches as you focus on cleaning the cut.

“Nothing important.” He mumbles, careful not to move too much for you.

“Clearly, it felt important to you.” You hold up the blotchy, red-stained cloth as proof.

He sighs, “It wasn’t.”

You glance up at him, but he’s staring off to the side, jaw tight, and you decide to let it go. You know him—if he got worked up enough to start a fight, then it meant something to him.

The room falls quiet as you work, the silence stretching between you. Still, your mind spins, trying to piece together what could’ve pushed Mattheo far enough to throw punches.

“Why didn’t you go to her?” You ask softly.

Mattheo’s face stays blank, and for a moment, you wonder if he even heard you.

“It’s just—” he starts, then pauses. His gaze finally lifts to meet yours, and something shifts in the air. The way he’s looking at you now—it’s different. Intense. It sends your pulse into a quiet frenzy. “It wouldn’t be the same.”

“It shouldn’t be the same,” You murmur, correcting him. “We’re just friends, but it’s different with you and her.”

“I know, I know.” He mumbles, drawing in a deep breath.

You set the cloth aside, watching him carefully as you reach for the cream. It’ll only take a couple dabs on his cheek andhe’ll be good to go—but still, you move slowly. Selfishly, you want to stretch the moment. He hasn’t been this close in weeks. You haven’t really heard his voice in what feels like forever.

Not when he’s talking to the boys. Not in passing in the corridors. That doesn’t count. Not like this.

“Do you like her for me?” He asks, and you inwardly sigh.

“I haven’t given it much thought.” You reply, dabbing the cream gently onto the bruise as he watches you.

You keep your focus fixed on the task—too careful, too precise—because meeting his eyes feels too intimate. Too dangerous.

“The boys always said it would be you.” He says quietly.

Your hand stills for a moment, eyes flicking up to meet his, uncertain.

“About what?” You’re stalling, hoping to have more time to process.

“Who I’d end up with.”

“Oh,” you murmur, voice barely above a whisper.

How are you supposed to respond to that? Tell him you’d hoped for the same? That you’d heard the boys say it, more times than you could count—and every time, you let yourself believe it a little more.

Hoped that maybe, if they said it enough, he’d start to believe it too.

“Did they ever tell you that? That they thought you’d end up with me?”

Your voice falters, your hand falling to your lap as you stare at him. You’re too close—far too close. You need him out. Away from you. He has a girlfriend.

But then he says your name, soft and low, and you freeze.

Your mind is screaming at you to move, to stand up, to tell him it’s time to go.

But you don’t get the chance—because there’s a knock at your door and just like that, the moment is gone.

Please, please, please consider reblogging and/or commenting. It keeps me motivated to continue writing and reblogging spreads my work! 🤍

#IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONEEE #theo nott fic #theo nott x reader #theo nott imagine #theo nott fanfiction #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott fic #theodore nott fanfiction #theo nott x fem!reader #theodore nott x you #theo nott #theo nott angst #theodore nott angst #theodore nott fluff #theo nott fluff

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lov3notts-recs · 1 month ago

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RETURN THE FAVOR (Pt. 2) // e. berkshire

RATING: R / 2.7K WORDS

Enzo Berkshire x Fem Reader Insert

+ SUMMARY - *Read PART 1 HERE!* You get back at Enzo for leaving you alone in that abandoned classroom, only, this time, you’re the one calling the shots.

+ WARNINGS - Oral (m!receiving), bondage, magic used as gag, semi-public sex, edging, slightly dubcon (previously established boundaries), handjob, dom!reader, sub!Enzo, fem!reader, reader insert, language, not fully proofread (lmk if I missed anything!)

+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -

run for the hills - Tate McRae

- - -

The next time you saw Enzo Berkshire, he was leaning nonchalantly against one of the stone benches in the western courtyard. One leg was crossed over the other—ankle perched cockily atop the opposite knee; his elbows were resting behind him on the table; and his head was tilted backward, exposing his throat to the sun.

In any other situation, you’d find him devastatingly attractive and be dragging him by the tie to the nearest lavatory and having your way with him. But now, there was hell to pay.

You waltzed over to him, keeping the way he’d left you—in bindings and exposed in an open classroom—in the forefront of your mind. He would become acquainted with the burning familiarity of that sensation very, very soon.

“Enzo,” you said, stopping in front of him and his group of friends. A sickly sweet smile spread across your lips.

Four pairs of eyes found you—some expressions were curious, some lustful, some impervious. But none of their overly confident faces could pull you from your current goal, not even Enzo’s.

“Can I speak to you in private?”

“I’m sure we could set something up later,” he shrugged, crossing his fingers nonchalantly over his stomach. Though he tried to conceal it, you could see the smirk building on his face.

The friends scattered around him seemed to cover their laughter, some better than others. You bit back your anger with a clenched jaw and tongue pressed between your teeth.

“No, I need to talk with you now,” you spat. When he didn’t move a second time, you walked over to him and selected the back of his collar between your clenched fist. You yanked him up by his uniform shirt, much to his disapproval.

His friends shouted protests here and there, but you were already Disapparating and whooping away, Enzo’s shirt still tightly clutched between your fingers. Past the air swirling around the two of you as you traveled to your desired destination, you could feel Enzo’s fingers still fighting against yours.

When the air around you stopped and solid ground stood beneath your feet again, you took a deep breath and swallowed down the nausea that rose in your throat. Disapparating always made you a little sick to your stomach.

You released Enzo, and he fell to his knees on the rough stone ground. He groaned and caught his balance with his hands on the old floor.

“Hey! What the fuck?” he snarled, quickly getting to his feet and brushing the dust off his hands and trousers. “If you ever pull anything like that again, I’ll—”

“Enzo,” you interrupted. “Shut up.”

He scoffed. “Don’t tell me to—”

You whispered pieces of a spell under your breath and watched as the magic did its part. A chair from the corner of the same empty classroom he’d left you in skidded up behind him at record speed. It clipped the back of his knees, forcing him off balance and into the chair. Before he could yelp, two dark cords of smoke wrapped around him and the chair. One secured his hands to the arms, and the other secured his feet to the legs.

You struggled not to smirk as you watched the spell work.

“Alright, I get it. I’m sorry for—” His voice was cut off by the last cord wrapped around his mouth and secured his jaw to prevent any more annoying quips. His eyes seemed to widen as he realized he wasn’t getting out of this.

“En,” you said softly, beginning to approach the convergence of the wooden floorboards to the stony ground he sat upon. “I told you I was going to return the favor. I didn’t know when I’d be able to, but it’s payment time, baby.”

You stopped just before him, arms crossed, knees nearly brushing his secured ones. His eyes watched you through their eyelashes. His eyebrows were ever so slightly furrowed as if he were trying to remain stoic but was ever so slightly nervous. You knew him well enough to know that he was aware of your persistence. He knew you weren’t going to back down until you’d sought out your revenge and were satisfied.

Your fingers crossed the threshold between the two of you and slid through the strands atop his head. You pushed his head back and forced him to look right at you. He grunted against the restraints, trying to fight you but obviously failing.

“Are you ready to apologize?” you asked. He was unable to say anything, but his eyes burned through you like a flame.

You whispered another spell that locked the classroom doors with a thudding sound that echoed through the grand room.

When you turned back to him, he was more nervous now. His knuckles were white as they inconspicuously pulled against the cords, and his eyes glanced around wildly.

Your fingers gently placed against his jaw, caressing the freshly shaven skin there. His eyes fluttered ever so slightly as your hands traced a line down his neck and chest before stopping at the first set of buttons on his uniform shirt. You slipped it through its eyelet and watched as his eyes trailed over your face.

Just like always, his painfully domineering personality began to melt away when he was put in this kind of situation.

When all of the buttons were unfastened and his shirt was set apart, you pulled the two pieces over his shoulders. The tie still done around his neck hung loosely over his naked chest. You selected it and slowly wrapped the fabric around your knuckles until it was tight in your grip. Suddenly, you yanked him forward by it, revelling in the way his eyes widened at the sensation.

“Seems familiar?” you whispered. His eyes looked away, groaning in annoyance. You yanked the tie once more, forcing him to look back at you. “Keep your eyes on me, baby. Okay?”

He did nothing, just stared back, trying to intimidate you. But he wasn’t exactly in any kind of position to be trying to intimidate you. Annoyed, your hand dropped between his legs and cupped his hardening core. You squeezed a bit too hard and watched as his eyes fluttered and a muffled groan left him. He jerked at the sensation, his legs clenching together as he tried to push your hand away.

“Look at me,” you demanded, your voice never elevating above a gentle breeze. His eyes found yours again, only this time his nervousness was evident, and pleasure had begun to invade his expression. Beads of sweat collected along his hairline, and his cheeks flushed. His eyes flickered with curiosity.

You released him before kneeling before him. His eyes watched your every move. Slowly, you began to unbutton his pants. At your touch, his hips bucked up in an attempt to elicit more pressure. At this, your hands abruptly pulled away from him, much to his dismay.

You whispered another spell and watched as a fourth smoky cord appeared around his hips, securing them in place just above his waistline. He groaned frustratedly, jerking as much as he could against his restraints.

“Don’t test me, Berkshire,” you smirked before continuing to undo his pants. Before long, his belt was undone and his trousers were split open just at the top, revealing his gray, fitting briefs.

Your fingers ghosted over his clothes core, watching as his eyes rolled to the back of his head and his hips still tried to rock against you to no avail.

“What should I do with you?” you murmured. “I hadn’t thought this far ahead.”

His eyes found yours again. Though you’d hardly done anything, he looked wrecked. His hair, newly mussed from your hands, hung messily across his sweated forehead. His eyes were lidded yet desperate, begging for some form of release of pressure.

“I could just leave you here without giving you anything,” you suggested. “That would be a perfect way to get back at you.”

He all but whined at your words.

“What do you think?” you asked, glancing up at him. Wordlessly, you willed the cord around his mouth to release for just a moment. He took a deep breath, his lips swollen from the pressure.

“Please, I’ll do anything,” he whined. “I’m sorry for what I did, baby. Please don’t leave me here—”

The cord appeared back in its previous position.

“Well, that’s no surprise. I knew you’d say that. That’s not helpful,” you shrugged.

You pretended to think for a moment more, your fingers idly brushing across him here and there. Every contact your skin made with him sent a jolt of pleasure through his body.

Suddenly, you gasped, snapping your fingers. “I know!”

You got to your feet and, in an overly exaggerated show, grabbed your wand from the table next to you and pointed it at him.

His breath came out in short, panicked breaths as he waited for the curse about to hit him. After what he did to you, it wouldn’t be surprising for you to just turn him into an animal for the week. He braced for impact, eyes clenched shut.

His clothes slid themselves down—his shirt sleeves pooled around his bent elbows, and his pants and briefs slid down to his knees. He was now perfectly exposed to you without you having to do any heavy lifting.

He appeared painfully hard. The sweat that had pooled along his hairline began to slowly slide down the side of his face. You smiled.

“I think I’m going to suck you off until you come, okay?”

His eyes became a bit unreadable, almost like he was expecting something a bit more. There was still the chance you’d leave him tied here and leave, but you seemed in an unusually good mood today, so maybe he’d get lucky.

You dropped to your knees again and collected him into your hands. He moaned aloud at the sensation, finally getting to be touched. His hips stuttered against their restraints, his knuckles clenching and unclenching against the arms of the chair.

His head fell back against the chair, exposing his throat to the air. As you continued to jack him off, you pulled yourself up to kiss along his neck and chest. Here and there, you sucked deep purple bruises into his flesh, marking him for later. His muffled noises never stopped.

Finally, you dropped back down and took him into your mouth all at once, no build-up. He all but screamed into his gag. You smirked around him as your nose brushed against his stomach. You began to slide your tongue along the bottom of him as you retracted your head, hollowing your cheeks. He groaned deeply as each inch was removed from your mouth.

When your lips were just barely circling the tip, you counted to three in your head before taking him all the way back in. Just the way he liked it—when he was like this anyway. Slow and torturous. He’d never admit it, but he always came ten times faster this way than when he was fucking your face.

As you continued your work, you kept your hands on his bare thighs, feeling for that telltale sign that he was getting close. His muscles would tense and tense and tense before beginning to shake. Typically, he was coming a few seconds after the shaking started.

So when his thighs started to vibrate, you pulled your mouth off of him.

His eyes widened, and he groaned aloud. He looked down at you, pleading silently.

“I’m sorry, were you almost there?” you teased. “Did I stop too soon?”

He nodded frantically until you placed your lips back onto him. His eyes fluttered again, his head tilting back to appreciate the sensation once more.

Then his thighs were tensing and tensing, and then he was shaking, and you were stopping again. He was all but crying now, legs shaking where they were able. He was so close, and you knew it.

Sweat dripped from the underside of his chin. “More?” you asked innocently. He nodded again.

This cycle went on four more times. You told him you wanted ten almosts out of him before you were going to let him get there, and, as bad as he wanted it, he wouldn’t back down from a challenge. Though his cheeks were beyond flushed and he huffed deeply, he was determined not to cum until you reached the tenth time.

Once you were there, you took him all the way to the back of your throat and went much slower than the last time. You allowed him to feel every swipe of your tongue as long as he could before his legs began to shake again.

You retracted your head once more, and he groaned as if he’d been scandalized. If he could speak right now, you were sure he’d be rambling about how you’d only said ten times. But, to cut him off, your hand wrapped around him and began pumping him at a deadly pace.

His muted complaints died in his throat as you worked him closer and closer until he was finished across his uncovered chest. He was grunting exhaustively with each spurt of release. When he was completely done, his head hung loosely over his chest.

He heaved tiredly.

“Wow,” you said, breaking the silence. “I can’t lie, that was pretty impressive. Maybe next time we can go for twenty.”

He groaned in annoyance, still trying to catch his breath. His body was slumped against the chair, at least as much as it could be with every part of him being secured upright.

Merlin, he was a sight. All fucked out and ruined, exposed and secured, with his spend spread across his chest and stomach.

“I’m proud of you, darling,” you said, leaning up to speak into his ear. “I didn’t think you’d make it the whole time.”

You pressed a gentle kiss to his sweaty hair before pulling away and looking over you. As much as you’d like to bundle him up and fall asleep with him in your dorm room, you still had a lingering aspect of revenge to exact. You sighed.

“Well, I wanted to take you back to my room, but that’s too bad,” you shrugged. “I’ve got a couple more classes to attend, and this wouldn’t be fully satisfying unless I left you here.”

At that, his head popped up, and he was more alert. He shook his head, begging for you not to leave him. You knew that, technically, this was much more unfair for him as he hadn’t used music to tie you up, but you had to do what you had to do. He was an asshole and he was going to learn his lesson.

“When you get free, come back to my dorm and I’ll make sure you’re well taken care of.”

He grunted against his restraints, trying to plead with you not to leave him there.

“If you’re not in my room by nine tonight, I’ll come check on you, okay?” You said, crossing your arms. “I think you’ll be able to get out before, though. I think.”

You looked around the room as if making sure you were all done in here. A glance down at the watch around your wrist told you it was just ten minutes until your next class started.

“Ah, well, I’ll have to head off,” you said, flashing your watch toward him. “I’ve got to get to Potions. One more tardy and Snape might take some points from Slytherin.”

You were entirely too casual about this whole thing, and it was driving Enzo absolutely insane. You were trying your hardest not to giggle over the situation, but you knew that would just make him angrier.

“Come and see me when you get loose, okay? Love you!”

Then you were Disapparating toward your next class. The last thing you saw was Enzo’s wide eyes begging you not to go. And once you were whooshing to the dungeons, you finally let the giggle you’d been holding in out.

That’s what you fucking get, Berkshire.

- - -

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#to be read

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lov3notts-recs · 1 month ago

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BROOKE!!!!!! the way i’ve missed your writing😭😭

first off the summary?? god it gave me flashback and the way my chest hurt just reading it🥲

i was screaming “please save him, please save him, please save him” the whole time while reading this

"That would've been..." He swallowed, voice barely audible. "Fatal."

yes it WASSS, that scene was so traumatic & for what!!!

i’m so glad this was a happy ending <333 i’ve missed this cutie

a fraction of a second I calvin evans

pairing: calvin evans x fem!reader gif credit. @avadaniels summary: one morning walk. one wrong step. wc: 1.9k warnings: spoilers for lessons in chemistry!!! fix it fic. fluff. elizabeth and calvin are friends. he just takes the dog on his runs. ooc calvin. self indulgent. reader can put hair in a ponytail. excessive use of em dash’s. not sorry. not beta needed a fic asap.

a/n: i’m rusty asf. i have risen just for this man. watched this knowing his fate and still bawled my eyes out. and there’s little to no fics of him so i came out of hiatus just for this. wrote this with a migraine and zero sleep. If you enjoyed, please reblog or comment!

You almost didn’t go on your walk that morning.

And that was unusual.

Rituals were your anchor — carved into muscle memory, reliable as clockwork. Every morning, without fail, you followed the same routine. It kept your mind quiet, your breath steady, and the chaos of the world at bay. Wake up at six. Dress in your usual uniform: long sleeves, a pair of shorts, and worn-in tennis shoes. Brew a cup of coffee, sip it slowly in the kitchen’s early light. Out the door by six-thirty.

But yesterday had been… a mess.

A long, cruel string of bad luck stitched tightly together, like the universe was testing your patience just to see when you’d snap. It started out fine, your morning had gone as usual.

Then the moment you stepped into work, it all unraveled. Your boss was irritable and short-tempered. The students were wild. The parents were worse. Every person you encountered seemed determined to chip away at your sanity, and by the time you made it home, your nerves were shot.

You’d sighed in relief, hoping for a simple evening. Something easy, maybe leftovers, maybe quiet. But when you opened the fridge, a sour stench hit you in the face. Everything was spoiled. Mold bloomed across forgotten containers. The milk had separated. It wasn’t until later that you realized the power had gone out sometime during the day. Long enough to quietly sabotaging your dinner without warning.

So you’d settled for dry cereal eaten straight from the box, too tired to be frustrated, and gone to bed praying that Saturday would be kinder.

It took a full-body groan to get yourself up that morning. Not graceful, not motivated, but determined.

You dragged yourself out of bed, shuffled into the bathroom, and went through the motions. Coffee brewed. Shoes tied. Hair pulled up.

Despite everything, you stepped out the door right on time.

Saturday mornings had that effect. Fewer cars on the road, fewer people out. Some neighbors were taking the luxury of sleeping in, while others sat quietly on porches, coffee cups in hand, soaking in the early calm. It felt peaceful. Still.

The trees blocked most of the morning sun, casting cool shadows across the sidewalk, but the light that managed to filter through made everything look soft and golden. Birds chirped lazily overhead, filling the silence without breaking it.

You started your usual light jog, somewhere between a fast walk and a slow run. Enough to get your heart moving, never enough to sweat too much. The breeze was just enough to keep the warmth from feeling heavy.

You smiled and waved at the few neighbors you passed — the older couple watering their flowers, the woman with the tiny terrier who always barked once and then got shy. At the corner, you slowed to a jog in place, glancing both ways before crossing, your shoes tapping softly on the cement.

Then, rounding the next block, you saw him.

Your “running friend.”

You didn’t know his name. Didn’t know the name of the dog either. You couldn’t have picked him out of a crowd if he wasn’t mid-stride with a leash in hand. He was always at least a block ahead — sometimes farther — nothing more than a figure in motion, as consistent as the sunrise. But today, for once, he was on the same sidewalk as you. Close enough to see.

Maybe he was running late. Maybe he was just pacing himself. Either way, he was there — present, not just a blur.

You slowed instinctively, letting your gaze rest on him. His stride was smooth, strong. A small, involuntary smile tugged at your lips. You’d never admit it aloud, but you had a quiet sort of crush on him. The harmless kind that bloomed over time without invitation. Despite the fact that he didn’t know you existed, you found comfort in him. He was part of your routine too.

As you trailed behind, you noted his usual complete lack of situational awareness. He was entirely focused on the dog — a goofy, floppy creature with far too much energy and a mind of its own. The man laughed softly as the dog tugged at the leash, and you nearly laughed too, your own amusement catching in your throat.

He slowed further as the dog resisted, clearly engaged in a battle of wills. You could hear him muttering to the animal, coaxing or teasing. And the sound of his laughter, low and unguarded, made your chest flutter.

You didn’t mean to stare, but he was so much clearer now. His face, the exact curl of his hair, the way sunlight framed the edge of his profile. If you weren’t so tense, so on edge, you might’ve committed it all to memory.

He had reached the corner, still laughing, still tugging at the leash playfully. The dog was resisting, digging its paws into the sidewalk, body leaning away from the curb like it knew something. The man chuckled and gave the leash a gentle tug, still coaxing. But you saw it: the collar starting to slip. A subtle shift. A warning.

“Come on, Six-Thirty. We’ve done this a hundred times.”

But something felt wrong. Goosebumps rose along your arms. A strange, cold prickling crawled up your spine. Your gut clenched with a quiet panic you couldn’t name yet. It was instinctive, that buzzing pressure before something snaps.

His voice was still playful, unaware, calling to the dog. But your eyes flicked to the side, and there it was a bus —going faster than it should in a residential area.

You didn’t think. Just picked up your pace, walking faster almost running now.

Time fractured. Everything slowed. The leash pulled taut.

The collar slipped free. The dog lurched back. And he — your “running friend” — stumbled backward into the street.

You didn’t scream just lunged. Your fingers closed around the soft fabric of his sweatshirt, yanking him. The force was messy, desperate. Enough to rip both of you off balance.

The ground slammed up into you, unforgiving and solid. He landed half on top of you, his head knocking into yours, his elbow digging into your side with a startled grunt.

The bus tore past a split second later. Inches. The bus missed him by inches.

You lay there, breath caught in your throat, your lungs fluttering with panic. Everything shook — your hands, your chest, your legs — as adrenaline surged like wildfire through your veins.

For a moment, the world was still. Colorless. Soundless.

Then it came rushing back, like a wave crashing into shore.

The dog barking in the distance. The fading screech of the bus’s horn as it disappeared around the corner. The blood roaring in your ears. The rapid beating of two hearts. Two still-beating hearts.

You blinked up at the sky, the narrow slice visible through the branches above. Your body ached, but you couldn’t move yet. Not until the shock wore off.

Then a shadow crossed your vision. He hovered above you, face coming into focus. Curls tousled, cheeks flushed, lips parted in disbelief.

His eyes were wide, shocked, breathless, and locked onto yours. “Are you okay?” he asked, voice raw and dazed.

You nodded slowly, still catching up.

He stayed frozen over you, bracing himself with one arm planted awkwardly on the pavement, the other still resting across your side. His breathing was sharp — shallow and fast — matching yours beat for beat.

Neither of you moved. Neither of you could.

“I…” He shook his head slightly, curls bouncing as he tried to process it. “I didn’t see it. I didn’t hear it. I—”

“I know,” you said softly, your voice steadier than you expected. “I did.”

His gaze snapped back to yours. Something in it shifted, a spark of awareness. Not just that you’d saved him, but that you’d been there. That you’d been close enough to notice what he hadn’t.

You felt your fingers still tangled in the fabric of his sweatshirt and slowly let go, your hand falling limply to your side.

You both rose slowly, a little awkward, a little shaky.

Calvin stood first, unsteady on his feet. His hand trembled slightly as he offered it to you, the shock still echoing through his limbs. That close to death did something to a person. You took his hand, let him help you up, and tried not to focus on how warm his grip was.

“That would’ve been…” He swallowed, voice barely audible. “Fatal.”

“No kidding,” you said, exhaling with a weak laugh.

He turned to look at you fully, concern creasing the space between his brows. “Are you alright?”

“Besides a minor headache, possibly bruised ribs, and some back pain?” You gave a tired smile. “Yeah. I think I’ll live.”

He breathed out a half-laugh. “Good.”

“And you?” you asked, eyes narrowing on the way he shifted his weight, like the ground still wasn’t quite steady.

Calvin turned to glance at the road again — the spot where it nearly ended for him — then back at you. “Well,” he said, still dazed, “I’m not splattered across the pavement, so I’d say so.” He tried for a smile. It almost worked.

You nodded. Your own heart had finally started to slow. And now, up close, you could really see him — not the blurry figure half a block ahead, not the running stranger with a dog — but him. Up close, he looked exactly how you imagined and nothing like it all at once. Handsome in an understated way. Kind eyes. Disheveled, flustered, completely real.

“I’m Calvin,” he said. “Calvin Evans.”

You blinked at the name. It was familiar, vaguely. You’d probably seen it somewhere in class, heard it whispered at a dinner party you half-listened to, but none of that mattered right now.

“I’m… still catching my breath,” you replied, giving him a small, sheepish grin, as you gave him your name in return.

He said your name quietly like he was committing it to memory. His voice was low and gravelly, from the shock, or maybe the adrenaline still working its way out.

“Thank you,” he said. “I can’t—I mean… just—thank you.”

You gave a small nod, your smile growing just a little. “I’m just glad I got to you in time.”

His brow lifted, like he hadn’t quite considered it that way until now. A pause followed — then something softened in him. “Well… I suppose I was meant to be late today.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” you said. “More like… I’m glad I didn’t skip my walk. Kind of a butterfly effect situation.”

That made him pause. His lips parted slightly, and something flickered in his eyes. “The butterfly effect isn’t technically-” He stopped, catching himself mid-explanation. A breath passed between you. Then he smiled. “You’re right. The butterfly effect.”

He looked over at Six-Thirty, who had stopped to sniff a patch of grass, tail still wagging like nothing had happened.

“Would you… want to walk with us?” he asked, voice quiet. “I think I’d feel better not being on my own right now.”

Your heart skipped once, then settled.

“I’d like that,” you said.

“And if I’m not being too forward… maybe breakfast after? Or coffee?” He rubbed the back of his neck. “To thank you properly.”

You looked at him, earnest and exhausted and standing here, alive. And somehow, you didn’t want the moment to end.

“You don’t have to,” you said, “but yes. I’d like that too.”

©voidsxntry2025

#calvin evans #calvin evans x reader #calvin evans fic #calvin evans x you #lessons in chemistry #lewis pullman #calvin evan’s #calvin evans x y/n #calvin evans fiction #calvin evans x fem!reader #lewis pullman fic #lewis pullman x reader

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lov3notts-recs · 1 month ago

Note

that’s all i gotta say

miliary!theo taking you whilst you're asleep bc he's been out on service for so long and just can't hold back.

-☄️

tw nonconsensual somnophilia

“theo… what… what are you—” you slur, still half asleep as theo slowly thrusts himself in and out of your cunt. you’re confused, disoriented, tired, squinting through heavy eyelids to see him on top of you, a predatory gaze in his eyes.

“shhh… just go back to sleep, sweetheart.” he purrs, his hand gently stroking your hair, yet maintaining that same, lazy pace. it feels strange, waking up to his cock deep inside you, and you then notice you’re soaking wet, causing you to furrow your brows.

“but why—”

“just needed to feel you, yeah? i’ll be quick.” he cuts you off again, his voice strained and rough as he’s focused on chasing his release, head thrown back and his arm tightly gripping the sheets, accentuating his biceps.

“missed you so fuckin’ much, princess. missed all of you— your sweet voice, your pretty face, your tight pussy. fuck” the bed creaks beneath you with each thrust, the sounds filling the room along with his low grunts. there’s nowhere to go with his weight pinning you down, trapping you completely.

“i love you so much.” he hisses through gritted teeth, but you’re frozen. still, you don’t push him off. you don’t tell him no. in fact, you feel guilty for not wanting it. he’s been away for months, fighting. protecting. providing. making sure there’s food on your plate and a pretty handbag around your arm. so you part your thighs just a bit wider and moan his name like the good, obedient girlfriend you are.

#tw: sonmophilia #military!theo ♡#MY FAVORITE KINK EVERRRRRR #giving or receiving #🫦

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lov3notts-recs · 1 month ago

Text

are you an angel sent from heaven?? this was SO GOODD

“now go show my best friend everything i just thought you”

IM LITERALLY ON MY KNEES OMG

CHECK YOUR WINDOW ₊˚⊹ ᰔ

⌗ ┆ word count: 10k+

⌗ ┆content: perv!theo, boyfriend!mattheo, cheating & betrayal, strong language, heavy sexual content. if you don’t enjoy my content, there’s no need for you to stick around, i’m not responsible for what you choose to engage with. for @pilupotter ᰔ

⌗ ┆ summary: check your window, he’s at your window: caught in the mess between jealousy and obsession, theo begins to have a crush on the one person he knows he can never touch: his best friend’s girlfriend. but everything changes the night he sees you with mattheo through the window, a view he was never meant to witness.

♫ — ❝ check your window, he’s at your window. ❞

╰› navigation.⌇m.list.⌇my au’s .⌇other song lol.

THEO HAD NEVER KNOWN the ugly emotion of jealousy. it was an unfamiliar feeling to someone like him, one that belonged to other boys, boys who had to fight for attention, compete for power. jealousy, after all, only creeps in when you see something you want but believe you’ll never have. that had never been theo’s reality.

from the moment he could speak, if he pointed at a toy in a shop window, his father’s gold handled it before he even asked. if he admired a rare piece of jewelry in passing, it was in his room by nightfall. no explanations. possession had never been a question, it was an expectation. even people, in their own strange way, came to him. at school, if he decided he wanted someone’s company, it was only a matter of time. he never pleaded, never played the fool to earn friendship. he watched, waited, and the chosen eventually fell into his circle. whether from fear, or fascination, it didn’t matter. they came.

his father had shaped him this way. the elder nott would speak in a tone that meant more to theo than a shout. “there’s a difference between being loved and being feared,” he told theo once, as they stood in the drawing room. “when people hear the nott name, they do not smile. they do not speak it softly. they whisper it. that is power. power isn’t loved. it is obeyed.”

theo was like a cloth wiping down a table: soaking up everything his father said, holding onto it all until the next time he needed it.

so no, jealousy had no place in his chest. not when he’d been raised not to envy, but to expect. not when the world had always shown him that if he desired something, it would eventually belong to him.

mattheo was the only one who didn’t fear theodore, his closest friend, most would say. even back when they were in school, people used to joke they were glued at the hip. they told each other everything. from the girls they slept with, in detail, to family stuff. nothing was off limits.

when mattheo got kicked out of his father’s manor and showed up at the nott’ manor asking for a place to crash, no one was surprised when theo’s father said yes. the place had plenty of guest rooms, and mattheo had always been like a second son to the old man. leaving him homeless on the street would’ve been unthinkable.

"helloooo, girl next door,” mattheo whistled under his breath, leaning forward slightly as he peered out of the window. theo was scrambling through the mess on his desk, trying to find a quill beneath piles of parchment and books. at the sound of mattheo’s voice, he paused, head snapping up. with a furrowed brow, theo walked over and came to stand beside his friend. his gaze followed mattheo’s, settling on the window that overlooked the neighboring manor. it sat a little further out, though one window in particular caught their attention.

directly across from theodore’s was your room. your light was on, the sky outside had already started to darken into deep blues and purples. from where they stood, they could see just enough: the curve of your shoulder as you walked past, the way your curtains shifted with the breeze. "oh yeah," theo muttered, looking away. "the new neighbor my father was talking about." watching someone through their bedroom window, even unintentionally, felt intrusive to theo.

“didn’t think to tell me?” mattheo asked, he watched you move around your bedroom, opening boxes, pulling out books and folded clothes. your hair slipped over your shoulder as you bent forward, revealing the line of your bare neck. “sorry,” theo sarcastically replied from beside him, arms crossed loosely over his chest. “didn’t think you’d care about us getting a new neighbor.”

“i didn’t.” mattheo tilted his head, shifting a little closer to the glass. “now i do.”

you had no idea you were being watched, placing a few things on the windowsill before turning toward the bed, where a white towel was laid out. mattheo’s gaze followed your hands as they reached for the hem of your shirt, lifting it slowly, inch by inch. you were probably getting ready for a shower.

a cold water bottle came flying through the air, smacking mattheo square in the cheek. “stop watchin’ the girl, will you?” theodore snapped. “you look like a fuckin’ creep.” mattheo flinched only slightly, caught off guard, then turned his head slowly, the corner of his mouth curling into that annoying smirk. he rubbed the side of his face where the bottle had hit but didn’t look the least bit remorseful.

“jealous?” he drawled, cocking a brow. theo didn’t answer right away. he turned back to his desk, sifting through the mess like he hadn’t heard the question. a few crumpled pieces of parchment were swept into his hand and tossed into the nearby bin. “you’re still the love of my life, theo,” mattheo added, leaning back against the window frame. “there’s no need to be jealous.”

theodore let out a dry snort, not even turning around as he casually flipped him the middle finger. “and if she catches you staring at her while she’s taking off her shirt?” theodore said, looking over his shoulder. “might as well tattoo ‘pervert’ on your fuckin’ forehead and let the whole neighborhood know.” mattheo just shrugged, biting the inside of his cheek as he glanced once more toward the window.

“don’t know,” he said. “some girls love that shit.” theodore exhaled sharply through his nose. he was done. done trying to reason with a walking hormone in human form. “get to bed,” he muttered, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “you’re speaking with your dick again.”

mattheo chuckled, stepping closer to theo and giving him a playful shove to the chest. it wasn’t hard, more of a nudge, but it earned a shove right back.

that shove earned mattheo’s full attention: a harsh push to theodore’s shoulder that made him stumble back a step. without hesitation, theo shoved him again, harder this time. mattheo huffed. he’d always been a sucker for a good play fight, the kind that started as a joke but never stayed that way for too long. and the second theodore turned his back to brush him off, mattheo lunged.

he tackled him around the middle, dragging him down to the floor. the impact sent theodore crashing onto the floor with a thud, his back hitting the wooden floor beneath it as a grunt escaped his chest. “you fucker-” theodore cracked, trying to twist out from under him. but mattheo was already trying to pin him, arms locked around theodore’s shoulders.

in the fight, theo shoved at mattheo’s head with one palm, trying to push him off. his fingers caught the side of mattheo’s head, forcing him sideways — too far. the motion sent mattheo’s skull colliding with the edge of the desk beside them.

“asshole,” mattheo muttered under his breath, he rubbed the spot where his head had hit the desk, slowly pushing himself up before giving theodore a light kick in the ribs with the toe of his shoe before disappearing out the door with a dramatic slam that rattled the frame.

theo rolled his blue eyes and stood up. mattheo had been living at the nott manor for nearly six months now, but he still spent more time in theodore’s room than his own. no matter how many guest rooms the home had, he always ended up across theo’s bed, in his desk chair, or raiding his bookshelf.

theo thinks it’s because his room has always felt more like home than anywhere else. when they were kids, they rarely hung out in the guest rooms. those spaces were too too quiet, meant for people who didn’t stay. theo’s had history. it had laughter ghosting into the walls, secrets in the closet. back then, when life felt fresh, before things got complicated, before people started drifting: they all used to cram into his room without a second thought.

pansy would sprawl across his bed, flipping through magazines and rolling her eyes at draco’s ‘girly’ commentary. blaise would sit on the floor, leaning against the dresser, legs stretched out. enzo always found the window seat, sketchbook in hand, not listening to the talk around him.

mattheo was everywhere. on the bed, on the floor, by the door. moving constantly: he was trying to soak in every second of it. theo’s room held their shared growth. the jokes, the fights, the long talks that happened when the lights were out and no one wanted to be the first to fall asleep. even now, theo can still hear the echoes of it when he steps inside. maybe that’s why he feels more at peace there than anywhere else: a place with the memory of his happiest days, when they were all together.

theodore walked over to the window, and reached for the curtains, he hated sleeping with them open. the way outside lights bled into his room always messed with his sleep, casting odd shapes on the walls and waking him up at stupid hours.

just as he grabbed the fabric, something caught his eye. you had just stepped out of the shower, the steam still curling around you. a towel was slung loosely around your body, clinging to your damp skin, the fabric darkened in places where water still kissed your flesh. your hair was wet, heavy with moisture, dark strands sticking to your shoulders and framing your face.

theodore paused the moment he saw you. he watched, completely helpless as a bead of water traced a slow path down the slope of your collarbone, disappearing beneath the edge of your towel.

he swallowed, feeling the back of his throat burn, blinking twice as if to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating. every instinct in him choosing between looking away out of respect and drinking in the sight of you: wrapped in nothing but a bit of fabric.

the towel slipped from your body, falling to the floor soundlessly. theo’s breath hitched the second the fabric fell, revealing every inch of your bare skin. his lips parted without him realizing, gaze caught immediately on your breasts: perfectly perky—and pierced. the silver flash of the jewelry against your skin made his head spin.

he should’ve looked away. fuck, he knew that. he should’ve snapped the curtains shut the moment he saw you walk in, dripping wet from your shower, towel barely clinging to you. he should’ve thrown himself into bed, buried his head under the covers, forced himself to pretend he hadn’t seen anything.

you didn’t bother getting dressed. still naked, you crossed the room without a hint of shame, water on your skin as if you were dipped in moonlight. with a small hop, you climbed onto your bed, body completely exposed from where theodore stood frozen by his window. he watched you move, comfortable in your own skin. the way you shifted around on the mattress, adjusting your pillows, tossing them this way and that way without a care in the world. you were putting on a show without even realizing it, every twist of your hips, every stretch of your arms offering him a new angle to memorize, to burn into the back of his eyelids forever.

once you finally settled, your back sank into the sheets, muscles relaxing into the mattress. the soft cloth cradled you, hugging every dip and curve. theo’s chest rose and fell unevenly, unable to look away as your pierced nipples stood tight and hard, pointing up toward the ceiling. the silver jewelry small and beautiful on you.

you trailed your right hand down, fingertips dancing lazily over your breast, nails scratching slightly across the sensitive skin. lower and lower you went, dragging those fingers over the smooth, freshly shaved skin of your lower stomach, your body arching just slightly into your own touch.

he could see everything: the way your breathing deepened, the way your thighs shifted apart the ever so slightest, welcoming yourself home. with a roll of your wrist, you dipped your hand even lower, your index finger brushing gently over the swollen mound of your clit.

theo couldn’t move, couldn’t even think as he watched you spread yourself out across the bed, knees bent and falling open, giving him a full view of everything. your skin practically glowed, a leftover dampness still clinging to your body. your fingers, those delicate fingers moved lazy strokes over your clit. his stomach tightened painfully, a low heat coiling in his gut. he watched as you dragged the tip of your finger in circles, the movement so soft it was almost teasing yourself, building your own tension.

you tilted your head back slightly, letting your teeth sink into your bottom lip. he didn’t know if you were trying to muffle your sounds or if it was some subconscious need to savor the pressure, but either way, it didn’t matter. all thoughts that made sense abandoned in favor of the desperate need flooding his body.

everything he was feeling, every throb of want, every spike of lust, every dizzying pull toward you seemed to rush straight down to his dick, swelling painfully against his sweats. you moved, hips rolling up into your own touch, adding more pressure. with the kind of slowwww that made theodore’s vision blur at the edges, you pushed a finger deep inside yourself. “mmph…”

the sound you made punched the air right out of theodore’s lungs. it wasn’t loud, but it didn’t need to be. whether you had meant it to be heard or not, it banged through him, making his entire body clench and his cock harden so fast it hurt. he squeezed his eyes shut for half a second, trying and failing to gather himself. but the second he opened them again, you rewarded him with an even filthier sight.

another finger joined the first, stretching you wider, making your hips rock slightly against your hand. you moved them in and out, out and in, fingers disappearing into the heat of your pussy, coated in the evidence of your own wetness. theo’s ears were ringing, too consumed by the sight of your hand moving, of your body writhing slightly against the sheets, of your thighs trembling as you fucked yourself open.

your eyebrows pulled together, forehead creasing in that beautiful, desperate way as your pleasure built. gasping sounds slipping free without a hint of restraint. the movements of your fingers grew faster, your hips subtly chasing every stroke, your thighs trembling with the effort to stay open. theodore’s eyes devoured you. every detail. every breath.

he noticed everything: the way your right breast, slightly pressed to the side by the movement of your arm, causing the piercing threaded through your nipple to poke out at a perfect angle. theo felt a an aching need crash through him, a hunger to have it between his teeth, to feel the cold shock of metal against his hot tongue, to suck and tug and soothe until you were gasping even harder beneath him.

his hand gripped the windowsill so tightly his knuckles turned white. he stared hard, breath fogging up the small corner of glass before him, matching the uneven, shuddering breathing of yours. every squeaky whimper, every hitch of your hips, every sound of your fingers plunging deep into your own body buried itself into his mind.

you came with a cry, legs quaking around your hand. your face softened in the aftermath, a look of pure bliss taking over your beautiful features: lips parted, lashes fluttering against flushed cheeks.

with a violent jerk, theo closed the blinds, the snap of the cord sounding too loud in the silence of his room. he stumbled back a step, chest heaving, staring down in disbelief at the painful boner against his sweats. he dragged a shaking hand through his hair, cursing under his breath. he felt like a damn teenager again, seeing boobs for the first time on a crumpled magazine page he wasn’t supposed to have.

“you think she’d like this?” mattheo asked, holding the dress up between his fingers. he rubbed the fabric between his thumb and forefinger, raising an eyebrow. “she’s always fuckin’ talking about wanting dresses with this kind of fabric. all soft and shit.”

it had become a routine, one theo never spoke about, even to himself. every day, he found his feet carrying him to the same spot: the window in the far corner of his room, the one that offered a perfect view into yours. from there, he could see you through the soft cover of curtains that you always forget, or maybe just didn’t care, to close.

most days, you were alone. reading, usually. sometimes curled on your side with a blanket pulled up to your waist, the bedside lamp illuminating your face. other times, you were cross legged in the center of your bed, a book propped open against your knees, mouthing the words silently as your fingers absentmindedly traced the dog eared page corners. sometimes, you’d bring a friend over, usually a girl with a laugh too loud. you’d lounge across your bed together, heads bent over the edge of your bed, your body loose with comfort.

theodore would watch. you’d become his obsession without even trying. he told himself it was nothing. that it would pass. that if he just kept watching from afar, the pull in his chest would ease. but it never did.

what made it so much fucking worse, what twisted the blade in deeper, was the guilt. not just the guilt of watching you when he shouldn’t have, but the guilt that grew the day he saw you kiss someone else. the day he realized it wasn’t just someone.

it was mattheo. theo hadn’t known. not even a hint. mattheo told him everything, or so he thought. they’d been friends for years, bonded by too many fights and drunken nights and secrets they weren’t proud of. every hookup. every fling. every girl who’d passed through mattheo’s bed had been a joke, something to laugh about the next morning.

not this time. theodore had been standing at the window like he always did, eyes drifting toward your room. you were sitting cross legged on your bed, a paperback open in your lap, your hair loose and slightly messy like you’d just woken from a nap. you were turning a page when the door to your room opened, and theodore’s heart gave a confused lurch: mattheo stepped in. like it was normal. like it was his place to be.

theo had watched, body frozen except for the slow tightening in his jaw. mattheo didn’t say anything. as if he didn’t need to. he just crossed the room with that confidence he always carried, tossed his hoodie on the chair by your desk, and leaned down. as if this was a routine, pressing his mouth to yours in a kiss that was far too comfortable. your hands slid up into his hair and kissed him back, like you’d done it a hundred times before.

theo just stood there, staring with furrowed brows. the silence of his room made everything worse, the way your lips moved, the curve of your smile against mattheo’s mouth. he watched as his best friend slid his hands beneath the hem of your shirt, slowly pushing the fabric upward, revealing the bare of your waist, the lump of your breasts, the metal piercings theodore had spent countless nights dreaming about tasting with his own tongue.

and when mattheo came back from your house that night, theodore couldn’t stop himself from prying. working around the edges of the conversation like trying to defuse a bomb without knowing which wire to cut, asking the kind of casual questions that wouldn’t make him seem desperate to know.

eventually, however, mattheo cracked. laughing under his breath, running a hand through his curls: told theo that the two of you had been sneaking around together for about five weeks now, slipping in and out of each other’s beds, pretending the fire between you wasn’t setting blaze to everything it touched. and just like fuckin’ that, theodore felt stupid.

he sat there, nodding along like an idiot, pretending to find it funny, pretending he wasn’t shattering apart piece by piece inside. because all those nights he’d been standing at his window, staring at you like some fool, you’d already been his. mattheo’s hands had already mapped the curves theo could only dream about touching; his mouth had already tasted the skin theo ached to claim.

of course. of course that was why your curtains were drawn most nights now, blocking theo out.

regardless, even after theo found out you were dating mattheo, the acknowledgment hadn’t been enough to pry him away from that damn window. it should’ve been. god, it should’ve been. but how could he stop? you were still there, every day, existing just on the other side of the glass. gorgeous. the thought that you belonged to someone else now, that you were mattheo’s, should’ve made it feel wrong. and it did. it absolutely did. but that shame came with something addictive. the twisted thrill of watching something he could never have, of seeing you laugh or stretch or curl beneath your sheets in the early morning, knowing you were his best friend’s girl.

“no clue. you’re the boyfriend,” theo muttered, eyes scanning the hang of a sundress mattheo had plucked from a display rack in some dress shop. a pale blue thing, the kind of dress that would fall just below your thighs and hug your waist. theodore didn’t want to picture you in it, but of course, he did. he could already see it: you standing barefoot in your bedroom, spinning just slightly in front of the mirror, fingertips brushing down the fabric. or worse—he imagined it sliding down your shoulders, puddling around your ankles as mattheo stepped toward you with that smirk he wore when he knew he was about to get lucky.

“have to get it for her,” riddle said, holding the dress up. “she’d look fuckin’ amazing.”

theo stayed quiet. watched as mattheo strutted up to the front desk, tossing the dress gently onto the counter. the woman behind the register gave a soft smile, eyes flicking up to riddle. theo could make out the exchange from a few steps back, hearing the cashier ask, “for your girl?” with a teasing smile. mattheo’s curls bounced as he nodded and said something that made her giggle. some stupid line, no doubt.

theodore had never been the jealous type. anything he wanted, he got, usually without even having to ask. but people always want what they can’t have. and theodore wanted you. wanted you soooo badly in a way that ate at the open places inside him he hadn’t even realized were empty.

mattheo strolled back, confidence in every step, a small black bag dangling effortlessly off his ring finger like it weighed nothing, catching on the silver rings he always wore. his grin was all teeth. “let’s go,” he said, tilting his head toward the street. theo didn’t trust himself to speak, not when his head was a hurricane of thoughts that had no business being there. he kept his hands shoved in his pockets, eyes on the ground, his jaw tight as he tried to walk off the jealousy clawing at his ribs. it was stupid, he knew.

by the time they reached home, the sky was a shade of indigo. theo didn’t wait around — the front door had barely clicked shut behind them when he was already climbing the stairs two at a time, footsteps heavy on the wood. he didn’t even glance back.

mattheo didn’t follow. turning on his heel and heading right back out the door, toward your place. theo caught it from the top of the stairs: the quick jingle of keys, the door creaking open again, the soft click as it closed behind him. theo stood there, hand still on the banister, lips parted like he might call out — tell him to wait, to stay, to go fuck himself. but nothing came out. what was he going to say anyway? don’t go see her? mattheo would’ve just laughed. that cocky laugh that always made theo feel two inches shorter. he’d say something like, “jealous?” with that tilt of his head, and then walk out anyway. so theo let him go. let him take that damn bag of whatever he bought you, let him walk right into your space, right into your home, into the warmth that wasn’t his to want.

who the hell was theo to protest? he went straight to his room, peeled off his jacket, and crawled under the covers fully clothed. the sheets were cool against his skin, but it didn’t soothe anything. the drinks he’d had earlier sat heavy in his stomach — not enough to make him dizzy, but enough to make everything feel just a little off. he hoped they’d knock him out. that sleep would come quick.

it didn’t. he lay flat on his back, one arm flung over his eyes to block out the thoughts, but they came anyway. he counted the cracks in the ceiling. focused on the soft tick of the old clock on his dresser. on the way the wind brushed against the window, rattling the glass every so often.

"mm... ugh."

theodore jolted upright, ears straining like an animal catching the faintest scent of a target. had he heard that right? he thought he was imagining it, but then he heard it again, clearer this time. “yes… augh, yes…” desperate.

he would have known those sounds anywhere. those pretty little squeal of a moan that slipped from your mouth. he’d spent many nights pressed against the windowsill, watching you with your curtains drawn open just wide enough, seeing the way your body moved beneath your own touch. each quiet gasp, each whimper had been burned into him. engraved so deep inside his mind that even now, with nothing but the sound of your voice to guide him, he could see it all: the way your lashes fluttered, the way your fingers moved, the way your back arched off the mattress as you chased your own pleasure.

theo tossed aside his blanket and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. pushing himself up with his arms, he began walking toward the window. it was already open, though the curtains were drawn. grabbing them at the center where outside light peeked through, he yanked them open.

your bare back faced the glass. mattheo lay stretched out beneath you, his dark curls a mess against your pink silk pillows, his chest rising and falling in uneven breaths. your nails: painted a perfect, glossy white, the edge of your french tips scratched lightly over the broad of mattheo’s chest, leaving red trails. every movement you made was sluggish, lifting your hips, rolling them with a rhythm that made mattheo’s fingers dig deeper into your skin, leaving bruises theo could already see forming along your hips.

his best friends hands clutched you, urging you to move faster, so much harder, needing more.

you leaned down, your spine arching in a curve, and pressed a line of tongue mouthed kisses along the side of mattheo’s neck: hungry kisses that spoke of intimacy theo had never been allowed to taste. he watched you part your lips against mattheo’s throat, tasting the salt on his tan skin, heard the low groan mattheo let out as you continued to ground your hips down.

theo bit down so hard on his own cheek he tasted blood. his cock was hurting against his sweats, but he didn’t dare move, didn’t dare breathe, terrified he’d miss a second.

mattheo’s hands slid from your hips to the plush of your ass. his fingers digging into the meat, squeezing with a grasp that made your body jolt slightly against him. with rough strength, mattheo lifted you just enough to adjust the angle between you, guiding you down again. until you took every inch of him, your bodies fitting together like two broken pieces of the same shattered thing.

theo saw the way your head tipped forward, a moan falling from your lips: the sound sooo soft, vibrating against mattheo’s throat where you kissed him, your lips dragging across his pulse point. fingers curled against mattheo’s chest for balance, the rock of your hips as you rode him faster.

mattheo’s cock drove into you, the swollen head bumping against your g-spot with each thrust.

theodore could see it, could feel it, just by the way your body reacted. every time you lifted your hips, your thighs quivered, your back arching in those beautiful little spasms you couldn’t control.

but frustration simmered just beneath the heat because you were facing away from him, the smooth curve of your back blocking the view he craved most: he’d always loved watching the way your pierced nipples caught his full attention, how the metal glinted as your chest rose with every breath. and now it was hidden from him, kept secret while mattheo got to touch it, taste it.

each grind of mattheo’s hips had your body jolting forward, theodore knew, knew that the thick veins along his best friend’s cock were dragging against your squishy walls, stroking you just right. the way your body melted against his, the way your mouth parted in gasps said everything. your wetness coating him, making every thrust sticky, the lewd squelching sound loud enough that theo could almost hear it through the damn glass.

theo’s dick was throbbing painfully against his jeans, hard as fuck. he hated himself for it. hated that he couldn’t look away. hated that you were right there, split open for someone else, and he couldn’t touch you.

a sound clawed its way from theo’s throat as he shoved his hand into his pants. the first cold brush of his fingertips against his cock tore a choked gasp from him, body jerking against the window. he wrapped his hand around himself in a punishing hold, stroking, as if he could tear the want out of his body by force alone.

“fuckin’ look at yourself,” theodore heard mattheo. you whimpered, head falling back, the ends of your hair grazing over his best friends thighs.

theo fisted himself harder, his eyes on the curve of your back to your golden hoops — in his mind, he saw it clearly: the tattoo beneath your right breast, the one he wanted to mouth, to bite, to worship until you sobbed his name. he imagined it was his cock buried deep inside you, his hands tangled in your hair, your voice breaking as you screamed for him.

that alone made the coil inside theo snap: a release that yanked a whine from his throat. his fingers pinched instinctively, milking every last pulse of hot, desperate seed into his palm. his body jerking against the windowpane, trembling as wave after wave of pleasure ripped through him. the glass against his forehead blurred and fogged with his stuttering breath, but he barely noticed, lost to the absolute high of it.

however, he was instantly flooded with embarrassment at how quickly he had come, all from just the simple sight of his best friend and you.

“oh, come on, nott. it’s my girl’s fuckin’ birthday,” mattheo said, annoyed. pleading as he leaned heavily against the edge of theo’s bedroom window, arms crossed tight over his chest. his chocolate eyes moved between his friend and the view just beyond the glass, where you sat at your vanity, running your fingers through your hair. “pansy and her girlfriend are already there,” he continued, yanking his head toward the sound of laughter and music starting to rise.

“draco, enzo, blaise—everyone’s waiting. it’s going to be weird as fuck if you don’t show up.”

theo didn’t look up. he remained at his desk, wiping it down with a soft cloth like he did nearly every evening. no matter how often he cleaned, it somehow managed to look messier by the next morning. what mattheo didn’t say, but knew, was that theodore’s desk sat in the perfect spot, positioned just below the large window that framed a direct view into your room. from where he stood, theo could see everything. the setup wasn’t intentional, it had been that way since before either of them could remember. his desk had always been there, longggg before he realized what that window actually offered.

“don’t feel like it,” theodore replied, barely looking up from where he was running his cloth in circles across the surface of his desk. “barely even know the woman,” he added with a shrug.

he didn’t know you, not in the way people usually mean when they talk about getting to know someone. he didn’t know your favorite color, or what kind of movies you liked, or whether you bit your nails when you were nervous. but he knew what your body looked like beneath soft silk and tight cotton. he knew the way your lips parted and your head tilted back when you were chasing pleasure, whether it was under someone else’s touch or your own. he’d never heard your voice in conversation, but he’d heard it in squeaky moans carried through open windows.

mattheo exhaled loudly, dragging a hand down his face before turning back toward the window. “exactly,” he said, gesturing toward the sight of you. “you don’t know her. so m’trying to fix that. my two favorite people don’t even know each other, theo. that’s messed up.” that made theodore pause. he turned his head, giving a sideways glance at mattheo. his best friend wasn’t even looking at him, his gaze had returned to the window, locked on you.

curious despite himself, theo followed his best friend’s line of sight. you were sitting at the edge of your vanity chair, legs crossed, applying a final coat of lip gloss. your hair was half up, curls falling down your back like warm honey. the dress you wore, silky where it hugged your hips: the one mattheo had bought for you last week.

you looked gorgeous. too stunning. and somehow theo’s eyes weren’t drawn to the usual things. his attention caught on the tiniest details: the shimmer of body oil on your collarbone. the way your earring swung each time your head tilted. and, because he couldn’t help it, the outline of the piercings on your breasts, barely visible through the thin material of the dress, but justtttt enough to be noticed if someone was looking closely.

“not in the mood to party anyway.” the words were simple, tossed out casually as theo leaned back in his chair, fingertips tapping lightly against the edge of his desk. but the second they left his mouth, mattheo’s head snapped around like he’d been slapped. “not in the mood to party?” he repeated, disbelief in his voice.

mattheo had known theo since they were kids, since scraped knees to the stolen bottles of alcohol behind the castle. if there was one thing he could count on, it was that theodore nott never missed a party. not for exams, not for breakups, not even for detention. the boy lived for chaos, for loud music and dancing girls and a drink in each hand. so this didn’t make sense. “who are you, and what the fuck did you do to my best friend?” he asked. “seriously, tell him i want him back.”

nott rolled his eyes but couldn’t stop the small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. he shook his head and stood up slowly, stretching before he leaned his weight against the desk. “i’m serious,” he said. “go have fun with your girl. it’s her fuckin’ birthday, just tell her i said happy birthday, yeah?” but even as he spoke, even as he tried to sound uninterested, theo’s eyes wandered back to the window. back to you. still seated at your vanity, fastening the tiny clasp of a necklace around your neck, brushing the curve of your collarbone as you adjusted it.

theo couldn’t go to that party. he wouldn’t. if he saw you and mattheo together, up close, arms around each other, eyes locked in that way that only couples do. he wouldn’t be able to handle it. he’d pretend, obviously. theo was good at pretending. he’d lean against the wall with a drink in hand and wear that handsome grin. but the whole time, he’d be watching you. watching him with you. watching you with him. it would tear him apart.

you were already irresistible when seen through a window. but up close? with that perfume he’d caught traces of in the hallway? with your laugh in his ears instead of muffled through glass? he’d lose his mind.

mattheo bit the inside of his cheek. he hated this. hated the feeling of walking away from something that was supposed to be fun, that was supposed to include everyone he cared about. he and theo had done everything together since they were eleven: first smokes, first fights, first girls, first heartbreaks. there wasn’t a memory worth keeping that didn’t have nott’s name scribbled somewhere in the corner of it. and now, on a night that mattered. his girlfriend’s night, your night, mattheo couldn’t help but feel wrong leaving him behind.

however, mattheo knew better than to argue. if theo said he didn’t feel like partying, then dragging him out would be a lost cause. the fucker was more stubborn than anyone he’d ever met. once he was set in a direction, you’d break your legs trying to turn him around.

letting out an exhale through his nose. “alright,” mattheo said finally, turning toward the door, disappointment dragging at his voice. “if you change your mind, the party’s next door. you know where to find us.” theo gave a nod, already turning his back on his best friend. behind him, he heard the sigh mattheo always gave when he was pretending not to care, followed by the slow creak of the bedroom door opening, closing, then fading footsteps down the hallway.

the moment he knew he was alone, theo turned around. he didn’t even try to hide it anymore. his gaze went straight to your window.

you were standing now, having just risen from your vanity chair. the hem of your dress settled around your thighs as you reached for your perfume, spritzing a small cloud into the air before stepping through it, letting it kiss your skin.

your hands smoothed down the fabric of your dress once more as you took a final look in the mirror, brushing a curl of hair behind your ear. theo watched as you grabbed your little clutch bag. paused at the frame for just a second, looking back, maybe to check your reflection one last time, maybe just thinking—and then disappeared from view.

of all the people theo could’ve become obsessed with, why did it have to be you? why did it have to be his best friend’s girlfriend? the one girl he couldn’t have, the one person who should’ve been completely off limits. obsession didn’t even feel like the right word anymore. it was deeper than that.

when this all started, when theo first saw you touching yourself, you weren’t even with mattheo. he remembered that night vividly: down to the way you were lying back, lips parted, chest rising and falling with every desperate sound you let out. your hand was slow between your thighs, and the look on your face was tattooed into his mind permanently.

what if he’d moved first? what if he hadn’t stayed silent, hadn’t given mattheo time to get close to you? would you have looked at him the way you look at his best friend now? would you have let him touch you until you were trembling, maybe even crying from how good he’d make you feel? would you have let him ruin you in all the ways he dreamed of?

oh, could’ve, should’ve, fuckin’ would’ve. but the most twisted, most fucked part of it all: theo had only grown more obsessed after finding out you and mattheo were together. he couldn’t explain it. something about seeing the two of you wrapped up in each other, giving and taking pleasure so lovingly, cracked him open in ways he didn’t even want to name.

just like mattheo had said, his two favorite people. you and mattheo: two people theo is utterly obsessed with — had found each other. the two people theo loved to watch, to crave for, had somehow ended up in a relationship.

god, he loved it. he loved when his best friend came back smelling like you: the sweetness of your skin, raw scent of sex still sticking to him. he loved knowing you had made mattheo feel so good that he’d finally settled, finally stayed in a relationship.

theo loved it. loved that if it couldn’t be him wrecking you, worshiping you, making you come on his cock so deliciously, at least it was his best friend. if he wasn’t the one making mattheo’s eyes flutter shut in pleasure, you were. he tried to deny it — every part of him convinced that he was just jealous because mattheo had you. but the truth was more twisted: he was jealous because you had mattheo too.

theo blinked hard, over and over, as if it would somehow erase the thoughts that had taken inside his mind. thoughts so bizarre, so fucked, they didn’t even feel like they belonged to him. his chest felt tight, his skin too hot. he pushed himself up from his desk chair, the legs scraping roughly against the wood floor, and stalked toward the bathroom. he slid open the shower door with a clatter, the sound echoing in the tiled space, and twisted the faucet on full blast toward freezing cold. the pipes making a shuddering sound as he tore at his clothes: stripping his shirt off over his head, kicking his pants down in one tug, leaving a trail of garments behind him like he couldn’t get them off fast enough.

the moment he stepped beneath the icy spray, the shock of it hit him instantly. theo hissed through his teeth, bowing his head as the water tickled down his overheated skin, soaking his hair, dragging goosebumps across his frame. he leaned a palm against the cold tile, his other hand curling briefly into a fist at his side as he forced himself to stand there, to let the freezing water do its brutal work.

the arousal he’d gotten, just from the vivid thought of his two favorite people tangled up in pleasure, so good for him — fucked him up.

he stayed there longer than necessary, shampooing his hair, scrubbing his body hard enough to turn his skin red. as if he could wash the images out of his mind along with the sweat from his skin. when he finally shut off the faucet, the silence was instant. water dripped from his hair, trailing down his spine as he reached for a towel. he wrapped it low around his hips, the cotton scratching at his skin, and wiped a hand across the fogged mirror without bothering to really look at himself.

he grabbed a handful of cotton swabs, poking one into his ear, not yet swishing it around. with the other hand, he reached for his toothbrush, squeezing a quick line of mint toothpaste across the bristles before jamming it into his mouth.

theo stepped back into his room, still brushing his teeth, however: he stopped dead in his tracks. the sight before him instinctively made him stumble back a step, his heel catching on the edge of the rug. the toothbrush slipped from the corner of his mouth, hanging awkwardly. “what ttthe—” he mumbled, his voice barely hearable through the toothpaste foam.

he spun around and rushed back into the bathroom. the faucet screeching as he turned it back on with clumsy fingers, quickly bringing his mouth down to gather water. he swished, then spat it out, gripping the sides of the sink to steady himself for a second before straightening up. his eyes searched his reflection in the mirror, as if to confirm he wasn’t losing his grip on reality. then he stepped back out into his room.

you were standing near the foot of his bed, wearing that dress, it looked even more stunning up close. one thin strap had slipped down your shoulder, exposing more skin that seemed intentional… or maybe it was intentional. you tilted your head slightly. “rude of me not to announce myself, i know,” it was the first time he'd heard your voice in a complete sentence, and he was already captivated by it. “but you were in the shower, and i didn’t want to interrupt.”

theo just stared at you, his brain struggling to catch up. he blinked once. then again. and again, expecting you to disappear like some strange dream.

his voice came out lower than usual, cracking embarrassingly. “where’s matt…heo?” his gaze darted briefly around the room, expecting his friend to appear from behind the curtain or the closet door. if you were here, then surely mattheo couldn’t be far behind.

“he actually sent me,” you said, lifting the keys you still had clutched awkwardly in your hand, as if they somehow validated your presence. “said you… uh… had condoms.” theo almost chuckled at how shy you got just saying the word condoms. sweet thing. if only you knew how much he had already seen, how much he had already imagined. his blue eyes dragged over you, barely suppressing the smirk that tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“yeah?” he exhaled, turning away, crossing the room. his towel sat low on his hips, the damp fabric wrapped around the cut of his waist. every step he took made it shift dangerously. you stayed frozen by his bed, trying very hard not to look: failing miserably.

theo crouched down in front of his dresser, yanking open the bottom drawer. it creaked, revealing a mess of old things: wrinkled shirts, an empty box of mints, and underneath it all, a few leftover condoms from an ex-girlfriend.

he grabbed three without thinking, large hands checking the slim foil wrappers, and walked back toward you. the condoms dangled casually from his fingers as he extended his hand out: just close enough for you to reach. your hand was halfway there when theo snatched them back.

“you know how to put them on, right?” you lifted your gaze up at him through your lashes, lips parting slightly like you wanted to say something but couldn’t quite find the words. and theo, all bare in front of you, save for the thin strip of towel slung dangerously low around his hips. the shape of him barely covered the way your thighs instinctively pressed together.

you shook your head. theo could’ve groaned at the sight. he already knew, obviously. knew you and mattheo didn’t use condoms, his best friend had always been stubborn about it, even back at school, bragging about how he hated the “killjoy” of it. the number of plan b boxes theo had seen mattheo toss into his bag over the years only confirmed it: it was even worse now that he had you.

regardless, knowing it was your birthday, theo was certain mattheo wasn’t going to stop at just one round. not a fuckin’ chance. shit, knowing his friend, he’d probably go as many rounds as the number you were turning, determined to fuck you until you couldn’t even remember how old you were.

these were mandatory.

“want me to show you?” theo asked, the words slipping out before he could think better of them. he knew. fuck, he knew — this could either go insanely wrong or exactly how he’d fantasized a hundred times in the guilty corners of his mind. the moment the question was said, your pretty lips parted, eyes blinking up at him with disbelief. theodore couldn’t blame you, your boyfriend’s best friend had just asked if you wanted him to show you how to put on a condom.

silence pulled between you. theo’s stomach twisted, a thread of doubt shredding through the daze of heat blurring his mind. he thought about taking it back, covering it up with a laugh, pretending it was a joke, anything to save face.

“yes,” you breathed. so sickly sure. the single word dip into him like a match to gasoline.

theo’s pulse pounded loud in his ears as he moved to sit on the edge of his bed. he ran a hand through his damp hair, pretending to be okay, but every nerve in his body was tickling. he gestured for you to sit beside him, hand loose in the air, but his entire body felt tense. you obeyed without hesitation, shy as you perched on the mattress next to him. so fucking obedient. so fucking tempting.

he let the towel fall from his hips with a flick of his fingers, letting it pool on the bed. your breath caught. fully bared in front of you, was theo’s dick: an angry red at the tip, straining up at full attention. all from the simple sight of you sitting there, looking so shy and sweet in that little dress mattheo had bought you.

you swallowed, throat bobbing with the effort. your body shifting almost unconsciously on the bed: thighs pressing together, hands clenching into the fabric of the comforter beneath you. you couldn’t stop looking at him, at all. that gorgeous, heavy heat standing between his hips. theo’s mouth tilted into a smile at your reaction, but his voice stayed rough around the edges, when he said, “don’t open it with your teeth. could accidentally rip it. then it won’t work.”

you nodded, completely focused on him. on what he was doing. on how he was doing it.

he tore the wrapper open with his hands, the foil crinkling. he plucked the condom from the packet, letting it spread slightly between his fingertips. “it’s a little wet,” theo murmured, his accent peaking through due to nerves. “you have make sure it doesn’t slip through your pretty little fingers.” the way he said it, your pretty little fingers, made your entire body hot. you couldn’t tear your eyes away as he lined the condom carefully with the head of his cock, making sure it was angled just right before slowly rolling it down.

the latex slapped onto his skin, catching every vein, every impossible inch that had you pressing your thighs even tighter together. “just like that.” you bit down hard on the inside of your cheek to keep from making some humiliating sound right there on the bed. your hands squeezed tighter in your lap, thighs trembling from the effort of staying still.

“can i… can i try?”

theo was about to nod, maybe crack a joke about grabbing a banana or something less dangerous, but you shook your head quickly, moving forward on the bed before lifting a manicured hand to stop him. “i mean… on you,” you said. “can i try… on you?”

theo genuinely thought he was on the verge of passing out. your words ricocheted around his mind, hitting every nerve. his heart was pounding so loud it was all he could hear, he wondered if you could hear it too. nott gobbled down his saliva, fingers a little shaky now as he grabbed one of the extra condoms from where he’d tossed them on the bed. his hand brushed yours when he passed it over, your manicured nails scratched slightly against the rough pads of his fingers as you took the foil packet from him.

he forced himself to move, peeling off the condom he’d already put on, tossed it into the small trashcan by his desk.

you tore open the foil carefully, trying not to rush, your bottom lip caught between your teeth in concentration. when you slid the condom out, you held it up between your fingers. “you weren’t wrong,” you said, giving him a shy glance from under your lashes. “it’s… really wet.”

his cock twitched, visibly, at the sound of your voice, at the sight of you sitting there so pretty. you turned slightly to face him, holding the condom between your fingers. theo had to clench his fists into the mattress to stop himself from reaching for you. you were so close now that the scent of your shampoo mixed with the smell of latex was starting to become theo’s new favorite scent.

he observed, almost in slow motion, as you lined the condom up with the tip of his dick, so carefully he found it cute. and started to roll it down over him.

the first brush of your nails against his cock had theo’s thighs tensing, an involuntary jerk of his hips that he quickly bit back. you were trying so hard to be gentle, to be careful, your eyes flickering up to his face every few seconds for approval. “like that?” you whisper, voice barely hearable over the ringing in his ears. you were so close that when you tilted your chin to look at him, the slightest movement brought your face right near his: breath sweet, brushing across the tip of his nose. theo thought he might actually lose his mind. his dick throbbed against your palm, and it took every control he had not to thrust into your hand and wreck every bit of innocence still in the room.

“just like that,” theo rasped. he cleared his throat roughly, trying to ground himself, to wrestle back the thin shred of control slipping through his fingers. he was about to hook a finger under the rolled latex and slide it off, end this insanity before it went any further. when your hand shot out and stopped him, fingers brushing his wrist.

“wait,” eyes wide and questioning, locked onto his. “what about… if it’s filled?” you asked, cheeks flushing at the bluntness of your own words. “how do i remove it without any of the… juices spilling inside me?”

thrown off by how sweetly filthy that question sounded coming from your mouth. theo licked his lips slowly, mind racing, what to do. because the images flashing behind his eyes were downright dirty. he should have just explained it easily — but instead a far darker thought came to mind a sick, sick thought. one he didn’t have the power to resist.

theo reached out, his fingers brushing along your bare shoulder where the strap of your dress had slipped down. he caught the strap between two fingers and lifted it gently, sliding it back into place, his knuckles skimming your heated skin in the process. the soft prickle raising across your skin in visible waves. his fingers stayed a second too long, memorizing the warmth radiating off your body, before he forced himself to pull away.

“i’d show you… but it’s more of a visual lesson.” a smile tugged at your mouth, and you leaned in, just enough that theo could see the lust in your eyes. “good thing i’m a visual learner.” the condom still slapped over his cock stretched as he grew even harder. something he hadn’t thought physically possible until now.

“oh, i believe you,” theo muttered, he nodded toward the two empty condom wrappers on the mattress, to show how very serious you both were taking this ‘lesson.’ he adjusted himself on the bed, settling more toward the middle to give you both more room. “let me just-” he started, reaching for himself, intending to stroke his cock and mimic how the condom would fill. however, before his fingers could even brush his hardened dick, you stopped him.

“i have a better idea,” you said, syrupy sweet. “to get the full experience.” theo blinked at you, confused, until you rose up from where you were sitting beside him. you swung a leg over him, straddling his hips, and his heart just about stopped.

the thin material of your underwear brushed over the sensitive head of his dick, and theo had to bite back a sound. a pathetic noise that scratched up his throat. he could already feel it, could already feel himself on the verge, and you hadn’t even taken him inside yet.

“always have to be sure…” theo’s voice weakened. you gave him a look, that sexy look and slipped your fingers down between your legs, hooking into the side of your panties. you dragged the fabric aside, exposing yourself to him, and theo’s mouth actually watered.

you reached between your bodies, your hand wrapping around the base of him. theodore nearly jolted at just that, your fingers, so warm wrapping around him. “for learning purposes,” you said softly, locking eyes with him. for learning purposes. you lifted yourself up a bit, lining him up with your entrance, and theo could barely believe this was real. he was finally going to touch you, finally going to make you feel so unbelievably good, just like he’d imagined far too many times. then slowly, soooo slowly, you started to sink down.

the head of his red, angry dick disappeared into the squishy walls inside you. theo whimpered instantly, an embarrassingly wrecked sound that slipped out through his nose and clenched teeth. this was the same position you’d been in when he watched you and mattheo through the window, your back to him, making his best friend fall apart under your touch. only now, you were on top of theo, and he could still smell your boyfriend on your skin. he could still smell mattheo on you.

he wasn’t sure which he loved more: the scent of you on mattheo… or the smell of mattheo left on you.

your palms laid flat against theo’s chest for balance, hips rolling in waves that had both of you gasping, lost in the feeling. his hands roamed your body, thumbs sweeping over the curve of your waist, the full bulge of your breasts. his hands traced lightly over the ink just beneath your right breast, the red cursive spelling angel against your skin.

what an angel, riding him like your boyfriend, his best friend, wasn’t just next door. throwing a party in your honor. “feel fuckin’ amazing…” theo breathed against your skin. “my best friend had all this to himself?” his words dissolve into kisses and biting sucks against your pierced nipples, leaving trails of swollen, purpled marks. you moaned, arching into him, shoving your breast deeper into his mouth. he groaned as he sucked around the metal, loving the taste he had only ever dreamed about. it was even better than he had imagined, shocking against his tongue.

even up close he could still taste the traces of your boyfriend’s cologne clinging to your skin. the thought should have disgusted him. however, it made him impossibly harder.

theo sits up, caging you against him in a bruising hold, his arms locking around your body so tightly you can barely breathe. he holds you there, crushing you to his chest as he thrusts up into you, giving you everything. your hands fly to the back of his neck, fingers tangling in his hair, dragging him even closer to your chest as he continued to drive into you.

“keep hitting right th—ugh…” your words broke off in a choked moan, the sentence dying on your tongue. theo didn’t need to hear the rest; he already knew. he obeyed immediately, adjusting the angle of his thrusts, jabbing into the spot inside you that made your body jolt. you tried to keep moving, hips grinding down against him in desperate circles, but every time the thick head of his cock nudged that sensitive spot: you faltered, legs trembling around his waist. theo caught you when you slumped forward, letting your head drop onto his shoulder as you whimpered. his arms curled around you, holding you steady while he kept thrusting up into you, meeting your weak movements halfway, guiding you through the waves of pleasure crashing over your body.

every breath you took fanned across his neck as you clung to him. you hadn’t even bothered warning him that you were about to come, you couldn’t find the words, and he didn’t need them anyway. he could feel it.

the way your walls sucked him in, squeezing him tighter. even through the condom, he could feel the rush of your release, dripping down all over his cock. theo cursed under his breath, losing his rhythm as his own orgasm hit, his body pushing against yours. hips lifting up into you one last time, deeper than before, as he spilled into the condom with a groan muffled against your shoulder.

for a while, neither of you moved, the only sounds in the room were your heavy breathing. theo pulled out of you, the latex still slapped against him gleaming with your juices. but instead of letting go, he wrapped his fingers tightly around the base of the condom. “first,” he said, voice still recovering from the aftershocks, “don’t just yank it out like you usually do.” he demonstrated, pinching the tip of the condom carefully between two fingers to trap the contents inside. “always pinch the tip,” he instructed, “or you’ll make a fuckin’ mess.”

“then,” theo murmured, eyes locked on yours, making sure you were paying attention. his fingers gripping the base of the condom, not letting a drop escape. “slowly roll it down,” he instructed. “keep your grip tight at the tip.”

you watched, still catching your breath, as he demonstrated for you: rolling the condom down his still softish cock inch by inch. you could see the way his knuckles tensed slightly with the control he forced himself to maintain, ensuring not a single drop spilled.

when the condom was finally off, theo pinched the tip again for extra caution, lifting it between two fingers. you caught a glimpse of it, full of everything he was going to pour into you. theo twisted the open end into a tight knot, sealing it shut before tossing it casually into the nearby trash can with a flick of his wrist.

only then did he turn back to you. your back sprawled out across his bed, hair wild against his dark sheets, skin covered in sweat. fat purple hickeys scattered down your neck, your chest, your thighs. theo stood for a moment, just drinking it in, the gorgeous sight of you, the mess of you. the way you looked destroyed and beautiful under his touch. part of him, a greedy part, wanted to take a picture, to keep you like this forever, ruined by him with the scent of his best friend on you.

instead however, he let himself hover over you, one hand brushing your cheek. “happy birthday, by the way,” voice almost too soft for what they’d just done.

he lowers himself, mouth trailing a path down your throat, across your collarbone, tongue lapping up the thin sweat he left behind. you exhale through your nose, blinking down at him through post-orgasmic daze. “you’re obsessed,” you whisper, voice wrecked.

“of fuckin’ course i am,” he mutters, almost resentful, like somehow it’s your fault he’s like this. when his mouth reaches the curve of your breast. he stops, catching on the silver piercing on the tender peak. “fuck…” he breathes. his mouth falls open, tongue flicking over the metal before he seals his lips around it, sucking it into the heat of his mouth. his free hand cups your other breast, thumb rolling over the second pierced nipple, the barbell clicking under the pressure.

he devours your chest, leaving trails of saliva and bruises like signatures across your skin. dark red and purple marks blush over the soft bump of your breasts, around the delicate piercings, down to the fragile skin just above your ribs.

you sink your nails into his hair, yanking sharply when the overstimulation becomes too much. he looks up at you then, lips all swollen. “now go show my best friend everything i just taught you.”

#admittedly yes #i desperately need more of perv!theo #how’d mattheo going to react to the hickey-#theodore nott x you #theo nott smut #theodore nott smut #slytherin boys smut #slytherin boys imagine #fanfic #theodore nott x fem!reader #theo nott x you #theo nott smutt #theo nott drabble #theo nott imagine #theodore nott one shot #theodore nott fanfiction

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lov3notts-recs · 1 month ago

Text

THIS IS THE CUTEST STORY EVERRRRRR

ONE CUP OF COFFEE. theodore nott

( master list )

IN WHICH… Theodore Nott can’t stand the idea of actually falling in love but he finds himself questioning his choices after a series of rather comforting conversation with a Hufflepuff.

“Do you hate me so much that you can’t stand having one coffee with me?”

Warnings: Smoking, mentioning of throwing up, mentioning of weed, swearing here and there, mentioning of hooking (pretty tame for a Theodore Nott fic tbh)

—

“One coffee. Black. No milk or sugar. Make it hotter than usual.” Theodore Nott wasted no time in repeating his order to the worker behind the counter. A new coffee shop had opened inside of Hogsmeade and in the Slytherin’s opinion, their drinks were better than any muggle one.

He tossed a few golden coins onto the table before walking away and taking a seat in a deserted corner. He liked to be away from people because despite being part of a popular Slytherin group and partying often, he wasn’t a social person.

The quiet lulling of muggle songs played around in the cafe, bouncing off the walls. Theodore pulled his turtle neck up higher, covering his bare skin from the cold air. It nipped at his slim fingers and he wished he had taken a pair of Draco’s Dior gloves now.

The rusted bell attached to the door dully rang as someone else entered. The cafe wasn’t too crowded. There were a few other students scattered here and there but not many people were willing to freeze just to grab a coffee.

Melted snow dripped off Theodore’s boots as his observant eyes followed the actions of the newcomer. He couldn’t tell what house she was in because she was wearing all white, but she definitely wasn’t a Slytherin. The girls clad in green and silver had a certain aura; an unfriendly, poisonous, and addictive one.

This girl radiated off sunshine and daffodils and basking in the warmth of a crackling fire. Theodore guessed she was in Hufflepuff because she had a certain charm to her bright smile.

“One cinnamon chai latte.” She ordered, kindly handing the cashier a few coins. She was practically the opposite of Theodore.

“Name?” The cashier asked, much comfortable in her presence as opposed to the Slytherin who sat a few feet away.

“Y/N.”

Her name jogged Theodore’s memory. She was the girl Lorenzo had been paired with in herbology. It was quite a long and dragged out assignment so whenever Lorenzo wasn’t hanging out with his friends, he was with her.

Theodore subconsciously sat up straighter and leaned forward to get a better look at Y/N. Lorenzo described her as a pretty and bright girl with a warm perspective on life. Instead of saying “what’s the worst that could happen?” She always said “what’s the best that could happen?”

Theodore was somewhat impressed by how positive a person could be.

He didn’t notice he had been staring until Y/N turned her head, innocent E/C eyes burning holes into his. Theodore almost jumped. He quickly adverted his gaze, clenching his jaw.

Out of the corner of his vision, he could see Y/N sit at the table beside him. She sat with her legs oddly crossed and her body was turned so she could look at him.

“Theodore Nott, right? Enzo’s friend?” Her voice was gentle, like a meadow full of daisies and glittering ponds of water.

Theodore thickly swallowed before he nodded. “Yeah. Lo’s talked about you. You were his partner for potions.” The brunette had never heard anybody call Lorenzo by Y/N’s nickname, but maybe that was because he didn’t allow anybody to call him that. Unless it was Y/N, of course.

The poor boy was smitten with her during fifth year but he shyly backed off when he realised he had too much competition. To this day, Draco was still trying to convince him to man up.

“He talked about me?”

“Only once or twice.” Theodore lied through his teeth. He may be a tease, but he refused to out his friend.

“The assignment we did was so annoying. I’m glad I had him as my partner. If it was anybody else, I would’ve gone mad.” Y/N signed and a small laugh slipped past her pink-tinted lips.

“You practically saved his herbology grades. Lo is smart but his plant knowledge is in the negatives.” Theodore huffed in amusement, his mouth curving into a sly smirk.

“He’s good with everything else, though.” Y/N uttered. Out of the whole Slytherin group, Lorenzo, Draco, and Pansy had the highest grades. Blaise couldn’t care less; he still scored pretty high but grades weren’t his whole life. And Matteo and Theodore, the players they were, didn’t even bother studying for exams.

“Black coffee.” The barista suddenly called out, making Theodore realise he had never given the worker his name.

“That must be your’s.” Y/N said, nodding over at the steaming drink. She smiled, which almost set Theodore’s heart alight. It was already drowning in gasoline and her damn grin may as well be the flaming match. “Theo?” She waved a hand in front of his face as he spaced out.

“Huh?” Finally, his blank eyes shifted to stare at her.

“Your coffee.” Y/N reminded him.

“Oh. Right. I’ll see you later.” Theodore was quick to stand up and grab his drink, the paper cup burning the palm of his hand.

“See you later, Theo!” Y/N called out, not seeming to notice his uneasy mood.

Theodore sped walked out of the coffee shop, holding a hand to his chest. His stomach sank as dread overwhelmed him.

Him and Matteo were like two peas on a pod. They shared the same habits too, like drinking their sorrows away and smoking until their lungs burned. And let’s not forget their infamous reputations as playboys. Theodore Nott didn’t do relationships so he refused to let a soft Hufflepuff change his mind.

Despite shoving down whatever warm feeling he felt when he was next to Y/N, Theodore couldn’t help but crane his head in search for a certain flash of H/C hair.

“Black coffee. Extra hot.” He muttered absentmindedly to the same cashier who had served him a week before.

“Name?” She asked, bored eyes gazing up at him.

“Theo.” He quickly replied, turning his head again when he thought he saw Y/N. He felt disappointed when it wasn’t her. The worker seemed to notice.

“Are you looking for that Hufflepuff you were talking to last time?” She questioned, arching a thin brown eyebrow. Theodore glanced down at her name tag that read Eulia.

“No.” He quickly denied her inquiry, wrapping his long Slytherin scarf tighter around his bare neck.

“She comes in every week around this time. She’ll be here soon.” Eulia said, glancing over Theodore’s shoulder to take in the growing line. She cleared her throat, reminding Theodore of where he was.

As usual, he threw some coins onto the countertop and walked away to the same table he sat at before. His head perked up when he heard the sound of familiar laughter.

Y/N walked in, waving good-bye to her Ravenclaw friend. “The usual, Y/N?” Eulia asked, already typing her order into the monitor.

Y/N practically bounced over to Theodore, taking a seat in front of him. “Hey, long time no see. I thought I’d see you at school but I guess not.”

“I was busy.” Theodore lied. In truth, he had been hauled up in his dorm and listening to Draco rant about Pansy.

“Doing what?” Y/N innocently tilted her head to the side, genuinely curious.

Theodore, as blunt and brainless as ever, blurted out the first thing he could think of. “Weed, drugs, and smoking.” He wanted to bash his head into the table. What kind of response was that?

Yes, he used to do all those things but he had toned it down. The only addiction he had was smoking now.

“I don’t know why I said that. It was the first thing that popped up in the mind.” He admitted, scratching the back of his head.

“I’m not judging you, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Y/N laughed, “By the way, your cigarettes are about to fall.” She pointed to the packet that was lazily shoved into Theodore’s pocket. He quickly caught it.

“I don’t do weed or drugs anymore.” He uttered, “Just so you know.”

From the coffee machines, Eulia rolled her eyes. “Coffee for Theo. Cinnamon chai latte for Y/N.” She called out, placing the drinks down.

Theodore quickly stood up. “I’ll get them.” He offered, not waiting for a response.

“Smooth.” Eulia said as he grabbed the drinks.

“Cut me some slack. I’m used to hooking up with toxic girls, not chatting over coffee with a sweet Hufflepuff.” Theodore lightly scoffed.

“So, Theo, what do you want to do when you graduate?” Y/N asked as soon as he sat back down again.

He shrugged. “I don’t know.” In all his years of Hogwarts, he had never thought about it. “What about you?”

“I want to open a bakery.” Y/N said like she had been waiting the question to come up.

Theodore raised his eyebrows. “You like baking?”

“Yup! I’ll bake you something next week. Do you like chocolate?”

“Who doesn’t?” Theodore only knew one person who didn’t like chocolate, and that was Pansy. But to be fair, she had gotten food poisoning from spiked chocolate in third year.

It was safe to say that she spent most of that day hunched over the toilet while Matteo held back her hair and Lorenzo gently got her to drink water, which she threw up too but it’s the thought that counts.

“Great! I have to go now. I’m meeting up with another friend. See you at school, Theo!” Y/N effortlessly chugged her scorching hot drink. She slammed the cup against the table, grinning.

“What the…” Theodore was still trying to process what had just happened as he watched Y/N run out of the cafe and into the arms of her friend

The next week, Y/N arrived earlier than Theodore. He had been held up by Blaise, who was curious as to why he was visiting the same coffee shop three times in a row.

Theodore entered the store after managing to shake Blaise off. He shoved his hands into his pockets, shivering despite the atmosphere being warm.

Eulia, who seemed to be on duty every day, had already made his drink and placed it in front of Y/N. She was too busy doodling on his cup with a permanent marker to notice his sudden appearance.

“Cute outfit.” He said as he sat down, the legs of his chair scraping against the tilted floor. Y/N’s face visibly lit up at his small compliment. Theodore observed her pink sweater with little bows sewn on it and her short white skirt with fleece leggings lining her legs.

“As promised, your cookie.” Y/N slid the box over to Theodore, smiling. “I would recommend heating it up. A warm cookie is better than a cold and hard one.”

“Do you bake often?” Theodore asked, taking the box and letting it rest on his lap.

“I try to bake as much as I can. I like helping the house elves too.” Y/N began to fondly talk about her love for baking and as much as Theodore tried to focus on her words, his gaze wandered to a suspicious group huddled in the opposite corner.

Once Theodore looked past their dark sunglasses and large coats, he recognised them as his friends. He saw Draco shove past Pansy and he surely pointed at Y/N then at Theodore before slapped his hands together.

Theodore stared at him, puzzled. And it showed as he furrowed his eyebrows and frowned. Y/N didn’t seem to notice his wavering attention, much to his relief.

“Do you want to bake together sometime, Theo?” Y/N asked, bringing him back to their conversation. He felt a little guilty because he hadn’t heard another word of what she had said.

“Sure. Though, I don’t think I’d be much help. Matt and I tried making edibles once and we messed that shit up.”

From behind Draco, Matteo glared at Theodore. It was your fault, he mouthed. He wasn’t lying, Theodore had gotten just about every ingredient in the recipe wrong.

“Edibles?” Y/N tilted her head to the side.

“Weed brownies.” Theodore elaborated, “But that was last year. I don’t do that anymore, remember? I only party and smoke.”

“I know. You told me.” Her eyes crinkled when she smiled. Y/N’s gaze flickered to his packed of cigarettes that always looked like it was about to fall out.

“Would you like to come to a party with me?” Theodore asked, leaning forward. There was one in the Slytherin common room next week. Normally, people from other houses weren’t invited but if you had the right connections, you’d be let in.

“Parties aren’t my thing. I… don’t like the vibe. You know?”

“That’s fine. You ever tried smoking?”

“No. Cedric offered to teach me but I declined.” Y/N frowned at the lost opportunity.

“I’ll teach you.” Theodore said a little too quickly. He cleared his throat. “I mean, you keeping me company wouldn’t be so bad.” He grabbed his packet, sliding it across the table. “These are my good ones. Keep ‘em and whenever you’re having a bad day or just wanna have a smoke, find me. I’ll light one for you.”

From across the room, Matteo lightly gasped. Theodore never ever shared his good cigarettes with anyone, not even him.

“Really?” Y/N picked up the worn-out box, staring at it.

“Yeah. I gotta get going. My friends are probably wondering where I am.” Theodore, once again, lied through his teeth. He knew his friends had questions and he didn’t want to keep them waiting. He stood up, feeling Pansy’s gaze burn a hole through him.

“Enjoy the cookie!” Y/N exclaimed, grinning and waving him off.

Theodore smiled. “I’m sure I will, love.” He walked out of the cafe, his friends following close behind and bombarding him just like he had predicted.

“You clearly have some sort of feelings towards her.” Panay said as she poked the brunette beside him. All throughout breakfast, Panay had been trying to get Theodore to admit his growing affection for Y/N. He denied it every time.

“I don’t.” He said for the third time, leaning down to stuff some bacon into his mouth. As he quickly chewed, his gaze flickered to Y/N.

“You’re looking at her again!” Pansy exclaimed, huffing. “It’s so obvious you like her!”

“Where’s Lo and Draco?” Theodore changed the subject, realising the two boys were missing.

“You can’t change the topic. You like her and you know it.” Unfortunately for Theodore, Pansy was persistent. Maybe a little too much.

“Theo likes who?” Lorenzo tilted his head to the side in curiosity. The whole group, even Blaise who laughed at awkward situations, froze.

Nobody responded for a moment before Blaise put down his fork. “Y/N. He likes Y/N L/N.” Theodore glared at the boy, wondering why on hell he’d even tell Lorenzo the truth.

“… Oh.” Lorenzo didn’t say much as he sat down, glancing over at Y/N. “You’re not going to break her heart, right?”

“I don’t like her. End of conversation.” Theodore groaned, taking a huge gulp from his goblet.

“I don’t believe you.” Lorenzo uttered, pointing his fork at Theodore’s eyes, “Your eyes say it all. You keep looking at her every minute and when you do, your eyes soften.”

Pansy snickered, nudging Theodore. “Told you.”

“If you don’t like her, then you wouldn’t mind if someone else asked her out, would you?” Matteo piped up.

“You aren’t her type.” Theodore immediately replied, scoffing.

“We’re practically the same, Theo. If I’m not her type then you aren’t. She’s pretty and all but I don’t date. That guy, on the other hand, seems like he does.” Matteo pointed over to a Ravenclaw boy approaching Y/N. The whole Slytherin group watched as he nervously asked her something and when she slowly nodded, his face lit up.

Theodore clenched his hands into fists. “Did he just ask her out?” He seethed, clenching his jaw.

“You don’t like her, remember? You shouldn’t care.” As usual, Matteo had that same infuriating smirk on his face. “Anyway, what are we doing for the party tonight?”

Theodore had forgotten all about it. He faintly remembered Y/N saying parties weren’t her thing. Did she like guys who didn’t party? That Ravenclaw boy looked like he didn’t. Is that why she said yes?

“I’m not doing. Not really my thing.” He uttered, shrugging. His friends looked at him in disbelief.

“Not your thing?” Matteo stammered, “Mate, the only thing you do is party! What’s gotten into you?!”

“He’s trying to turn into Y/N’s ideal type.” Pansy snickered, “He knows he isn’t the blueprint and he can’t see her with anyone else so he’s improving himself.”

“Respect, bro. But what about Izzi?” Matteo motioned to the Slytherin girl down a few rows who was Theodore’s favourite hookup.

“I don’t care about her.”

“What about the drinks?”

“I need to cut my alcohol intake.”

“Smoking? You can’t give up smoking! You’re addicted!”

“Y/N has my cigs. When she wants to learn, I’ll teach her.”

“And if she never wants to learn?”

“Then I won’t pester her. Not smoking for a while might do me some good.” Theodore on the brink of giving up smoking for some girl was a huge deal.

Matteo leaned over to Draco, “Is he sick?”

Pansy lightly snorted and she teasingly grinned, “If you mean lovesick, then yeah.”

To be honest, Theodore didn’t even know what he was doing. His head tried to convince him to return to the common room and drink like he usually did, but his heart said no.

That’s how he ended up in the courtyard, enjoying the fresh breeze.

“Theo?” An all too familiar voice called out. He practically spun around, facing Y/N. “I thought you’d be at your party.” She stared at him, confused.

“I’m taking a break from all that.” He said. Y/N silently sat beside him on the stone bench.

“I still have your cigarettes if you want them.” Y/N said, handing the packet over. “I thought about it and I don’t think I want to smoke just yet.”

“Thanks, love.” Theodore took the box, shoving it into his pocket without hesitation. Normally, he’d take one out and light it up but tonight was different.

“So, that Ravenclaw boy.” Theodore drawled. “He asked you out, huh?”

“Hm? Oh, Rowan? Yeah. I only said yes to be nice though because he helped me with some work last year.”

“You’re too kind, love. You need to know your boundaries.”

Y/N’s cheeks heated up at the sound of his endearing nickname. “I can’t say no now. It’ll just be one date then I’ll say it didn’t work out.”

“What if he wants a second date? What will you do?” Theodore moved closer to Y/N so he could feel the warmth radiating off her body. His heart jumped at their close proximity.

“Then I’ll tell him I don’t want one.” Y/N whispered, staring up at Theodore with those gentle eyes he liked so much.

“I liked your cookie, by the way.” Theodore slowly smiled, “It was good.”

“I’ll bake you a few more next time.” Y/N beamed. “I’m trying a new recipe for a brownie so I’ll give you one too!” Theodore smiled as she jumped into another rant about baking. This time, he could actually listen without being pestered by his friends.

Theodore, as usual, walked into the cafe around the same time he usually did. Eulia spotted him and subtly waved. “Has Y/N come in yet?” He asked.

Eulia hesitated before she pointed over at Y/N and Rowan. Theodore visibly deflated. He knew Y/N was only being nice to the Ravenclaw but he still felt a twinge of sadness.

“I’m sorry, Theo. If it makes you feel better, she hasn’t looked like she’s enjoyed the date. She looks much happier talking to you.” Eulia handed him his coffee.

“Right.” He sat down at a nearby table, glancing over at Y/N every so often. The slight pang in his heart reminded him of why he never dated in the first place. He quietly cleared his throat, deciding that whatever butterflies he felt for Y/N had to be drowned.

He stood up and Y/N immediately caught his gaze. She smiled and waved when Rowan wasn’t looking, but Theodore ignored her. Slowly, she lowered her hand.

As Rowan ranted on about how Ravenclaw was the best house, Y/N couldn’t help but think of what she had done to possibly anger Theodore. So much that he ignored her when he usually enjoyed her small smiles and secretive waves. She blocked out Rowan’s voice, frowning. He couldn’t grab her attention like Theodore could.

If only she knew that Theodore was simply trying not to fall in love.

Theodore avoided her for the rest of the week. Whenever she tried to approach him, he’d walk away. Even his friends were puzzled. After another failed attempt of trying to talk to Theodore, Pansy placed a hand on her shoulder.

“We’ll talk to him.” She said.

“I don’t know what I did wrong. He’s been acting so moody all of a sudden.” Y/N sighed and pouted.

“Maybe he’s on his period.” Matteo snickered at his own joke but immediately stopped when nobody else laughed with him. “I mean, Theo hasn’t had a good drink, fuck, or smoke since Monday. And all he did on that day was smoke for five minutes before he got caught.”

“I thought he liked doing all those things. Why’d he stop if it’s just going to make him grumpy?” Y/N murmured, playing with the hem of her blouse. Matteo and Pansy exchanged a glance, knowing they shouldn’t expose Theodore so early.

“He’s just being unreasonable. Don’t worry, we’ll get through to him.” Matteo grinned, his eyes flickered to the box in Y/N’s hands. “More cookies for him?”

She nodded. “Could you give this to him? It might make him feel better.” Matteo lowly hummed, taking the box. He and Pansy walked off after Theodore, muttering to each other about what could possibly be wrong with their friend.

“Theo.” Matteo called out as they entered the Slytherin Chamber. They found him sprawled out on the couch, a burning cigarette in his mouth. “Y/N made you cookies.”

Theodore looked at the box in Matteo’s outstretched arms. “I don’t want ‘em.” He said with a lazy flick of his hands.

“But you said you love her cookies. Jeez, dude, what’s gotten into you?” Matteo scoffed as he grabbed one, shoving it into his mouth. “If a girl made me cookies like these, I’d fall in love.”

“That’s the problem!” Theodore exclaimed loudly. “I’m Theodore Nott, Hogwarts resident fuck boy. I don’t do relationships! But Y/N- Y/N is making me feel things I shouldn’t!” He groaned, pulling at the ends of his hair.

“That’s the problem?” Pansy huffed, taking a seat beside him. “Theo, look at yourself. You haven’t partied in ages, you haven’t drank, you haven’t had sex with any other girl since last month. And you haven’t been smoking up until now! If you’re willing to stop all that shit for Y/N then you obviously like her!”

“What if I’m just concealing it, huh? What if I haven’t changed and if I date Y/N, then I hurt her? I don’t care about any other girl’s feelings but Y/N, fuck. I don’t want to hurt her.”

“Figure your feelings out then decide what you want to do. Easy peasy.” Matteo shrugged, eating another cookie. Theodore clicked his tongue, snatching the box out of his hands.

“It better be easy or I’m going to smoke all your favourite cigs, Matt.”

Matteo was lying. It was not easy to figure out how he felt towards Y/N. Every time he got close to her, he changed his mind last minute and rushed off. It earned him some weird looks but he couldn’t care less.

“Have you even slept lately?” Matteo questioned, slamming a cup of coffee in front of Theodore. He groaned.

“Do I look like I’ve slept?” He muttered, glowing at Matteo.

“Like a baby.” His friend teased, cruelly laughing. Lorenzo glanced over Theodore’s shoulder, clearing his throat.

“Y/N’s coming this way.” He whispered, kicking Theodore.

“What?” He looked around, panicked. Y/N was indeed walking towards him. He grabbed his coffee, splashing it onto Matteo’s wrinkled blouse.

“Yo! What the fuck, dude? That’s hot!” Matteo seethed, resisting the urge to peel his wet shirt off. Some girls hoped he would.

“Sorry, Matt. It was an accident. I’ll help you clean up.” Theodore tried to play his stunt off as an accident while practically dragging Matteo out of the hall.

“Okay, seriously, what was that all about?”

“I needed an excuse to get away.”

“So you spilled hot coffee on me?!”

“I would’ve let you do the same.” Theodore glared at his friend as he sat down and slumped. “She’s everywhere. How is she so social? I can’t get away from her.” He ran a hand through his messy hair.

“Have you been running away from Y/N this whole time?” Matteo questioned, arching an eyebrow. “It’s hilarious to imagine you running away from a girl.”

“Shut up. I’m processing things.” Theodore sighed.

“Just talk to her, Theo.” Matteo lightly nudged his leg, “What else can you lose? You’ve already lost your dignity.”

It had been a few weeks since Theodore had returned to the coffee shop. But finally, he strutted through the doorway with his usual uncaring demeanour.

Someone else entered as Theodore stood in the middle of the room, taking in everything he had missed about this cafe.

“Theo?” Y/N asked, peering over his shoulder. “I haven’t seen you in a while.” He stiffened and slowly turned around. “Are you having a coffee?”

“I’ve already had one, actually. I was just seeing if this place had changed.” Theodore wanted to walk away but he couldn’t tear his gaze away from Y/N’s eyes.

“Well, there’s no harm in having another one, right? It’s on me.” Y/N smiled at Eulia, “One cinnamon chai latte and…” She thought for a moment, glancing over at Theodore, “You’ve already had a coffee so one cream latte as well!”

Y/N paid and brushed past Theodore.

“Kiss her.” Eulia hissed, harshly poking Theodore’s shoulder.

“I’m not kissing her.” Theodore replied back in a hushed whisper.

“Theo, you coming?” Y/N called out, looking over her shoulder.

There was barely anybody in the cafe and even if there was, Eulia would’ve ignored their drinks to make Y/N and Theodore’s.

Theodore reached out to grab his but Y/N was quicker. She grasped both drinks, smiling at him. “We don’t have to be back at school for a while so let’s sit here.”

Theodore nervously followed behind Y/N to their usual table. He sat down, rigid and stiff. He saw his cup and glared at Eulia, who laughed. She had written a message on the cardboard, kiss her, and Theodore was quick to cover it.

He looked out the window, almost jumping with joy when he saw Matteo. “Oh! Matt! I need to talk to him! Sorry, Y/N. I’ll see you later!” He ran out of the cafe, crashing into his friend.

“Matteo! Quick! Do something!” Theodore shook his friend, urging him to create a distraction.

“Is this about Y/N?” He asked.

“She’s in the coffee shop- don’t look!” Theodore shoved his friend.

“And you need me to something stupid?”

Theodore eagerly nodded but was unprepared when Matteo pushed him forward and down a snowy hill. “Theo! Sorry! My hand slipped! I’m coming!” Matteo yelled out in a fake worried voice as Theodore rolled and got a mouthful of snow.

Y/N watched their strange interaction as she sipped on her drink. “… He didn’t call me love like he usually does.”

Y/N hummed to herself as she slipped on a pair of mittens and took out a tray of cookies. She placed the hot metal tray on the counter, the smell of baked goods wafting through the air.

She poured herself a cup of light coffee and sat down, swinging her legs. She lifted her head when she heard the sound of quiet swearing and smelled the scent of cigarettes and cologne.

“Theo?” She asked, tilting her head to the side. It was silent for a moment before the boy sheepishly pushed the kitchen doors open.

“I was looking for a snack for Pansy. She’s not feeling well.” He looked around, staring at everything but Y/N.

“I would offer her a cookie but she doesn’t really like chocolate, does she?” Y/N circled her finger around the rim of her cup, “Would you like some coffee? I made it myself.”

Theodore found himself sitting across from her against his will. He watched as she poured him a cup, softly smiling.

“Thanks.” He stammered, grabbing the white mug and gulping it down.

Y/N’s eyes widened. “Careful! Isn’t it hot?”

Theodore slammed the cup down, ignoring the burning sensation on his tongue. “No.” He wheezed, his vocal cords threatening to give up on him, “I’m fine. Tastes great.”

“You’ve spilled some.” Y/N said. She leaned forward, pointing at his collar. His top two buttons were undone and hot coffee trickled down his skin. “That must hurt. Here, let me help.”

Y/N dabbed a tissue against Theodore’s collar and he flinched as her fingers came in contact with his exposed skin. She noticed, peeking up at him through her lashes.

“Do you hate me so much that you can’t stand having one coffee with me?” She asked, taking a small step back.

“What?” Theodore choked. He didn’t hate her, quite the opposite to be honest.

“You keep running away from me. And you left me in the cafe the other day. And you didn’t wave back. Do you hate me?”

Theodore hated how he could see her E/C eyes glass over. He fiddled with his mug, tapping his nails against the porcelain.

“I… have to go. Pansy needs me.” He stood up, leaving without another word. He was doing what he did best; running away from his problems.

With Theodore out of the picture, Y/N felt lonely. She dug around in her pocket, confused when she fished out a cigarette. “Oh… it must’ve fallen out.” She murmured.

She was on her way to the cafe, but not to meet up with Theodore. The day after he had walked out on her, again, a Gryffindor had approached her and asked her out. She said yes in hopes this date would be better than her date with Rowan.

Spoiler alert, it wasn’t. In fact, she felt like it was worse. Y/N stared at her cup as the boy beside her talked on and on about his love for quidditch.

“What’s your hobby?” He suddenly asked.

“Baking.” Y/N answered absentmindedly.

“Oh, that’s kind of boring. Quidditch is better, don’t you think?”

Y/N resisted the urge to sigh. Theodore never insulted her love for baking.

“Do you do anything else?” The boy questioned.

“I study.”

“Jeez, you really are boring. You wanna come to a party with me? I know a guy who’ll hook us up with some coke.”

“No thanks.” Y/N rested her cheek in the palm of her hand, watching the clock closely so she could dart away as soon as the date was over.

Someone suddenly pulled up a chair in front of Y/N. “Coke is boring.” Theodore uttered, “Baking is better.”

Y/N tried to conceal her smile since she was still upset with him, but when he winked at her, she couldn’t help it.

“What are you doing here, Nott?” The Gryffindor sneered.

“I’m here to thank you for keeping my girl company.” Theodore grinned, showing off his pearly white teeth. “Now, if you’ll excuse us.” He grabbed Y/N by the wrist, tugging her out of the cafe.

“Why do you choose the shittiest guys to go out with?” Theodore asked.

Y/N lightly huffed. “It’s not like I mean to. At least they don’t walk away from me when I’m trying to talk, though.”

“You still upset with me, love?”

“You hurt my feelings, Nott.” Y/N pulled out the lone cigarette, shoving it into Theodore’s hand, before hurrying off.

He quickly placed it between his lips and lit it. “Let me explain, love!” He exclaimed, chasing after her. He breathed out a mouthful of smoke.

“Okay. Then explain.” Y/N folded her arms over her chest.

“What? Here? Now?” When Theodore saw the unamused look on Y/N’s face, he sighed. “Fine, but this is going to sound stupid.” He took another hit from his cigarette, needing all the courage he could get.

He took a deep breath. “I think you’re wonderful person and I didn’t want to risk hurting you so I tried to distance myself but that backfired and I was trying to process my feelings because I’m Theodore Nott. I don’t do relationships. But you made me want to give it a go so I got scared and that made me do stupid shit like spilling coffee on Matt or running away or allowing Matt to push me down a hill.”

Y/N furrowed her brows. “What are you trying to say?”

“I like you, Y/N! I like the way you smile and the way your eyes light up and I like how you look and me and how fond you are of baking! I like how you take the time to make me cookies because it makes me feel special! You treat me so differently from other girls and that’s how I know you aren’t just around for a hook up! I like your perfume and your hair and your outfits and the way you skip when you’re happy and how you read classic Muggle books because you want a cute teen romance!”

“You noticed all of that… about me?”

“How could I not? You have such a charming aura and I can’t stand it because no matter how much I try to deny it, I like you.”

“You really like me?” Y/N knew about Theodore’s reputation and she’d be lying if she didn’t feel the same way. But what if he was just toying with her?

“I do.”

“Okay then. Hug me!” Y/N exclaimed, confident he was joking. Theodore shrugged before embracing her tightly. “Uh… hold my hand!” He intertwined their fingers without hesitation. “Kiss me!” Y/N was sure he wouldn’t do it but when he leaned down and pecked her lips, she froze.

“Are you done? There’s a lot more things I’d do for you, Y/N.”

“Are you sure you like me? Like, really? Because what if we get married and you decide you don’t like me but we already have two kids and a cat together? Who will keep the cat? Or will we have shared custody over it?” Y/N spoke so fast Theodore could hardly understand her.

“What about the children?” He asked, tilting his head to the side.

“What about the cat, Theo?”

“I really do like you, Y/N. Believe it or not. I’m willing to give dating a try… if it makes I can date you.”

“Please don’t break my heart, Theo.”

“I won’t.”

“Can we finally drink coffee together without you running off?” Y/N questioned, which earned her a small chuckle from Theodore.

“I won’t run away this time, love. I promise.”

#theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott x you #theodore nott fluff #theo nott drabble #theodore nott drabble #theodore nott fanfic #theo nott fanfic

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lov3notts-recs · 1 month ago

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we want to on be treated right & somehow we’re spoiled?😭 god forbid a girl has standards

theo saying the right things and the right time<3

“you want to be spoiled?” he whispered, sliding your shirt fully over your head. “Let me spoil you, cara mia. Let me worship you”

SCREAMINGGGG

ღ spoiled

Pairing: theodore nott x reader Word Count: 1.8k words Summary: Theo was convinced you'd never look his way—until a Hogsmeade date leaves your heart bruised and angry. Now, Theo's done hiding his feelings... And ready to ruin every man who ever made you feel unworthy. Warnings: 18+; mdni; fem!reader; reader's hair is described to have waves; reader is explicitly referred to as a woman; swearing; fingering; sweet/dirty talking; praise; italian nicknames; female-centric nicknames (sweet girl; pretty girl); oral(f!receiving); dry humping if you squint; penetration; unprotected sex (wrap your willy before you get silly!); not proofread; let me know if i missed any! A/N: i saw this and thought of him. and ofc i had no choice but to write this.

♫ swim by chase atlantic.

Theodore Nott was absolutely convinced of two tings:

1. He was absolutely, irredeemably in love with you.

2. You didn’t feel the same.

It wasn’t your fault. He didn’t expect you to notice the way he turned every page in Potions book every time Slughorn asked a question, just to catch a glimpse of your approving smile when he got something right. Or how he’d always sit near you in the Common Room, hoping you'd accidentally lean into him again. Or that he kept chocolate-covered strawberries enchanted cold in his dorm because you once said they were your favorite.

But today?

Today was hell.

Because you were out in Hogsmeade. With Matteo Riddle.

Theo watched you go, wearing that pretty white sundress that drove him feral, cheeks flushed with cold and excitement. You'd smiled at Matteo—soft and uncertain—and Theo had nearly cursed a hole through the stone wall when the git offered you his arm.

Now, several hours later, the dungeons had gone quiet. Theo was seated in his usual chair by the fireplace, a book open in his lap, but his eyes kept reading and re-reading the same paragraph for nearly half an hour.

He felt you come in before he could even look up—the shift in the room, the weight of your presence like a familiar pull in his chest. He glanced up. Froze.

You looked… wrecked.

Not outwardly. Your hair was still pinned back in those perfect waves cascading down your back, your gloves still neat. But your eyes were glassy, your lips pulled into a tight line.

Something inside Theo cracked.

You didn’t even look at him when you passed. Not until you reached the couch and dropped onto it like your bones had given out.

He closed the book. “What happened?”

You blinked at the fire. “Nothing.”

“Doesn’t look like nothing.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

Theo sat forward, elbows on his knees. “If it upset you, then it matters.”

You hesitated. And then, as if some wall broke, you whispered, “He said I was spoiled.”

The words dropped like a dead weight between you.

Theo blinked. “Spoiled?”

You laughed, bitter and low. “Matteo said I expect too much. That I’m used to people giving me everything I want. Called me demanding.” You swallowed, suddenly small. “I didn’t think I was asking for much. I just thought he would open the door for me.”

Theo stood. Walked over slowly, then lowered himself to the rug in front of you, his long legs folding easily beneath him.

“He said that because you wanted him to treat you right?”

You didn’t answer, but your silence screamed yes.

Theo’s hands curled into fists against his thighs. “You’re not spoiled.”

You opened your mouth, but he cut you off.

“And even if you were—what the fuck is wrong with being treated like you matter?” His voice was sharp now, but not at you. “Wanting nice things, or softness, or someone to care doesn’t make you selfish. It makes you human.”

You stared down at him, something fragile in your expression.

“I like pretty things,” you murmured. “I like flowers, and thoughtful letters, and someone walking on the street-side of the pavement. That’s—”

“That’s not spoiled,” Theo said, voice low. “That’s you knowing your worth.”

A beat of silence. The fire crackled.

And then you said, very softly, “Why do you always say the right thing?”

His gaze locked with yours. “Because you deserve to hear it.”

Your breath hitched.

Theo reached up, brushing a lock of hair behind your ear. His fingers lingered just a little too long. Your skin felt like it might combust under his touch.

You leaned in. A little. Barely.

Theo swallowed hard.

“Opening doors for a woman—and especially a woman like you—it's a privilege. Matteo’s a fucking idiot if he doesn’t realize that,” he said, voice thick. “And if he doesn’t know how to spoil you…”

You raised a brow. “Yeah?”

His lips curled slowly. “Then let someone else try.”

Your heart stuttered. “Who?”

Theo didn’t answer. Not with words.

He just stood up, leaned forward, and kissed you.

It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t desperate. It was everything else — aching, gentle, reverent. Like he was memorizing your mouth with every slow brush of his lips. His hands settled on your waist, steadying you.

You sighed against him — and that was his undoing.

He deepened the kiss, one hand sliding up your back, the other cradling your jaw like you were made of silk. You tugged him down onto the couch with you, your legs parting instinctively to let him slot between.

And then the kiss turned hungry.

Theo pulled back just long enough to whisper, “Can I?”

You nodded.

He was on you in seconds, mouths hot and eager, hands tangled in fabric and hair. His lips moved from your mouth to your neck, sucking a mark just below your jaw.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he murmured, teeth grazing your throat. “Let me take care of you.”

You gasped when his hand slipped over your legs, cool fingers dragging up your thighs. Your hips arched instinctively, grinding up against him.

Theo groaned. “Shit—don’t do that unless you want this to end fast.”

Your voice was a breathless whisper. “Then slow down.”

His eyes burned.

“You want to be spoiled?” he whispered, sliding your shirt fully over your head. “Let me spoil you, cara mia. Let me worship you”

You whimpered. Every brush of his fingertips made your nerves light up. He kissed the inside of your wrist, your brow bone, the top of your head.

“You deserve silk sheets and moonstone rings,” he murmured, voice like velvet. “Someone to remember your favorite tea and put warming charms on your slippers.”

Your breath hitched. “Theo—”

“And,” he added, crawling back up your body, his hands framing your face, “you deserve someone who makes you come so hard you forget your own name.”

The retort forming on your lips dissolves into a moan when Theo’s large hands wrap around your thighs. You could feel how hard he was through his trousers, feel the restraint trembling in his muscles as he held himself back.

“This infernal thing,” Theo whispered, his fingers working their way under the hem of your sundress, brushing your core. “You drive me insane every time I see you walking around in this tiny little thing.”

You whimpered, unable to form words as he begins to rub gentle circles over your clit through your panties.

“Say it, vita mia,” he breathed, eyes dark. “Say you want me.”

“I want you,” you said, hips arching into his touch. “Please, Theo—”

He groaned, kissing you like he’d been starving for years. “I love the way you say my name.”

He pushed your panties to the side—not all the way, just enough to give him access to your aching core. Theo liked the control, the knowledge that he had you right where he wanted.

“You’re so beautiful,” he muttered, lips grazing your collarbone, fingers toying with your clit. “Fuck, you have no idea.”

You gasped when he tugged the cups of your dress down, his mouth immediately descending on your breasts.

Your hips shifted, needy friction building, but Theo caught your movement.

“Patience, sweet girl,” he whispered. “And you shall be… rewarded.” He said, punctuating the last word with a slow thrust of one of his fingers into you.

“Fuck, cara mia,” he groaned, as he began to move his hand in and out of you, slow, gentle, teasing. “You’re so wet already. Is this all for me?”

You nodded breathlessly. “Please…”

Theo smiled like he’d just won a war. “That’s more like it.”

His hand pulled away from you, and he gripped your thighs, spreading them apart, settling on his knees in front of the couch before lowering his mouth to your core. The first pass of his tongue had you arching off the couch—slow, teasing, maddeningly thorough. Theo ate you out like he was starving, with long, lazy strokes, then focused on your clit, flicking and circling until your breath hitched and your hands flew to his hair, tugging.

“T-Theo—!”

“That’s it, pretty girl,” he muttered between licks. “Let me hear you.”

He slipped a finger back inside you—then another—curling them perfectly as he sucked your clit again. Your legs trembled, his hair soft between your fingers. Heat gathered in the pit of your stomach, coiling tighter and tighter, pressure threatening to snap.

“Theo I’m gonna—!”

Theo moaned against you, the vibration of it sending you over the edge. You cried out, back arched, thighs squeezing around his head as you came hard—stars behind your eyes, pulse thudding wildly.

When you opened your eyes again, Theo was staring down at you with pure reverence in his eyes, his pupils blown wide, hair a mess from your fingers.

“I could do that all night,” he muttered, leaning up to kiss your lips, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. “But right now, I need to be inside you.”

Your hands fumbled at his trousers as he shoved them down, revealing a length that had you clenching around air.

“You’re sure?” he asked, voice cracking with restraint as he settled between your thighs, lined up and ready but still holding back.

“I want you, Theo,” you whispered, dragging your pussy over his throbbing length in a way that had him letting out a shuddering breath in your ear. “Please.”

He didn’t make you ask twice. He pushed into you slowly, watching your face the whole time — the way your mouth parted, the breath you caught, the way you held onto him like he was the only thing keeping you grounded.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he groaned. “So fucking perfect.”

Once he was fully inside you, Theo pressed his forehead to yours, holding still as you adjusted. Then he started to move—slow, deep thrusts, each one angled just right, dragging moans from your lips with every roll of his hips.

The way he filled you—like he was made you—had you gasping his name.

“I’m not going to fuck you,” he rasped, lips brushing yours. “I’m going to ruin you for anyone else.”

And he did.

He worshipped every inch of you—Theo sped up, pinning you wrists above your head with one hand, the other wrapped around your throat, holding you to his gaze as he fucked you harder; whispering praises against your skin like a man possessed. “That’s it, pretty girl. Take it all—good girl.”

When you came a second time, it hit you in waves—Theo coaxing you through it, his hips rolling against yours. “Shhh, baby, I know, I know. I’ve got you, cara mia. I’ve got you.”

And when he finally fell apart—your name on his lips, voice cracking, forehead pressed to yours—it was with a reverence that left no room for doubt.

You were his. And he had always been yours.

taglist !

@belovedenzo

#spoil me all you want bb #theo nott #theodore nott #theo nott x reader #theodore nott x reader #slytherin boys #theo nott smut #theo nott smutt #theodore nott smutt #theodore nott oneshot #theodore nott x fem!reader #theodore nott x y/n

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lov3notts-recs · 1 month ago

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i already knew this was going to be a good one by how long the warning list was😵‍💫

"BEARS. i am scared of bears. actual animals that are in this forest."

"just har har back at-"

"oh my god, is that-"

"i told you to back-"

"is that why you're so bitchy?"

i can help you with that

"were you mid-stroke?"

this was funny for no reason , i actually giggled

"all this just from jerking me off?"

i mean

"what if i eat you out, hm? will you be a good girl for me?"

YES!!!!!!

finally, after a couple more seconds, with a guttural moan, he too came, spilling his release inside his boxers.

filthy, pathetic, and so so hot.

the visuals. THE VISUAL I GOT OMG. i need him so bad

"come tomorrow too." oh?

i will steal condoms from mattheo and fuck you all night, amore." your breath hitched.

".. and the next night." your legs instinctively parted.

“... and the next night" your cunt was already pulsing with need.

my legs parted like the red sea.

may need a part 2 where we get our world rocked by theo🙊

pitch a (his) tent

synopsis. when your brother mattheo brings his new girlfriend on the annual boys-only camping trip, you're invited along to balance out the dynamic. everything’s fine... until your old tent gives out, forcing you to share one with the only person staying alone — theo nott. insufferable yet maddeningly hot theo nott. let’s just say… they should be making warning signs of him too, not just of bears.

pairing. brother's bsf! theo x reader

content/mdni. fem! reader, brother’s bsf! theo, very mean! theo, switch! theo energy (he's losing it), pent-up! theo, pussy-drunk! theo, messy-eater! theo, enemies-to-lovers tension, allusions to male masturbation, handjob (assisted), clit stimulation, oral (f receiving), dry-humping, cum play, allusions to overstimulation, allusions to edging (m receiving), dirty talk, pet names (amore, good girl), p in v implied but doesn’t happen, smut with ton of plot, one freddy fazbear joke

word count. 4k

a/n. hello, honeybuns! as promised, i came back to theo, specifically brother’s best friend! theo. this fic is also part of the first week of @acourtofchaos ’s event (although i am late oopsi). let me know what you think about this theo piece! feedback and reblogs are deeply appreciated!

the harmonious sounds of the crickets were the only hums spilling over the camping grounds. the joyous laughter and the ongoing chatter of daylight toned down little by little, falling prey to nighttime, vanishing entirely.

four tents were pitched around a put-out campfire, all jet black and covered by a thick layer of drowsiness. one lonely tent was perched farther from the cluster, partially hidden behind a sturdy tree.

a glowing beam of light emerged from one of the four tents, hauntingly hovering — fast yet quiet — towards the isolated one.

some might say that was a forest spirit, making its appearance at midnight to prowl around the mortal word.

some, against such meager fairytales, would suggest the yellowish orb to be but a tiny firefly, aimlessly flying around the camping grounds.

you would confirm that it was actually the light of your portable lamp, dangling from your hand and swinging according to the whim of the forest’s chilly wind. and the trajectory was not arbitrary — even before you’ve emerged from your tent, you decided to stick to the quickest route towards nott and his secluded shelter.

your feet, clad in simple flip-flops, crushed the dry dirt of the pathway, stepping with swiftness through the cold air of the night. the distance between the tents was not that far, yet your pajamas and your almost bare feet were not enough to protect your body from the temperature change.

hurrying your pace, you finally arrived before nott’s enclosure.

no inside light pierced through the thick material of the tent, a clear signal that theodore may be asleep. soft murmurs could be heard here and there, but you were not sure those came from inside.

you stretched out your arm by reflex, pushing the lamp forward, closer to the tent, trying somehow to see what theodore was up to. however, the additional light did little to nothing, making only the dirty green colour of the tent more vibrant; the inside was still a mystery.

“n–nott?” you whisper-yelled his name, testing the waters, still hoping he was awake.

it would make your life so much easier.

your call and the silence following it made the entire moment feel eerie. you were suddenly more aware of your singular existence in the middle of a sleeping forest.

the air felt harsher, cutting into your lungs. the light of your lantern was suddenly too bright, blindingly so. urgency spiked throughout your body, making goosebumps appear all over your skin.

fuck it, you will wake him up.

reaching out your free hand, you tightly gripped the outside slider of the zipper. and, with a final intake of air, you dragged it in the opposite direction, slowly revealing the entrance.

but it immediately flew away from between your fingers, fastly separating half the length of the zipper’s teeth.

“what the fuck is wrong with you?”

theodore's voice boomed in your ear, hitting you before his dishevelled appearance did. his voice sounded exhausted, although he did not seem to have been sleeping before your intrusion. yet, his visible grimace and his hand shooting upwards to shelter his eyes from your stupid lantern gave away the fact that he has been staying with the light off for a while.

“umm, i-”

“put that shit away, will ya’?”

his words were harsh and rude, thrown at you with no second thought. that's usually how he is when it comes to you; your brother’s best friend barely holds back, and if he must restrict his vocabulary, he colours his speech through intonation.

intonation showcasing annoyance and displeasure.

“yeah, yeah, my bad.”

you mumbled a half-hearted apology as you flipped off the switch of the lamp, the light slowly dimming in your hand until there was no more.

your surroundings were yet again swimming in darkness, and your eyes — not yet accustomed to the lack of brightness — seem to betray your disadvantage in the face of nott.

“what do you want?”

you could barely distinguish his silhouette, the contour of his body slightly blending in with the shadowy insides of the tent. you could see, however, the way his tent was partly open, a sign you were unwelcome in his vicinity.

that and his venomous words. he clearly wanted you gone.

you sucked in a breath, hammering down your ego, and carefully answered theodore.

“my tent’s ripped. didn’t notice until now–”

“and? the fuck do you take me for? bob the builder?”

oh, his patience was wearing thin. with your vision slowly adapting to the darkness, you registered the way his hand dragged the slider back down by a quarter of the length, wishing to separate the two of you for good.

“wait, wait.” panic surged into you and your hands jumped out instinctively, clutching theo’s fingers, stopping his movement altogether. your lantern long forgotten, dropped somewhere on the dirt path. “i can’t sleep there.”

“oh, please. you think a ghost will eat you?”

theo bit back at your reasoning, poking fun at the silly horror stories the group told right before bed and mocking your childish fear.

you can insist all you want, he doesn’t care.

his other hand ushered yours away to prove his stance, pulling the slider further down.

“you’re so ugh–” you were using all your power to stop yourself from kicking the supports of his tent and have it collapse over him.

“BEARS. i am scared of bears. actual animals that are in this forest.”

“just har har back at–”

“can i please stay in your tent?”

please. you never say please to him. please, thanks, and sorry are three words you’d never redirect at him unless you were extremely desperate.

and, shit, you seem to be needing to share his tent by the way you’ve swallowed up your pride and begged.

“fine. hop in.”

he does it for mattheo, he convinced himself as he pulled back the slider, revealing the full width of the entrance for you. he does it so your brother won’t rip his skin off if something does happen to you in your ripped tent.

yeah, that’s the only reason.

you slowly crawled into the tent, careful not to touch anything in your wake; theo seems to be in a bad mood, and you did not want to aggravate the situation further. so you propped yourself at the opposite side of him, sitting with your legs crossed one over the other, observing how he zipped back up the entrance.

you were now irrefutably stuck in a small tent with theodore nott.

after securing the slider, theo turned around to locate you. and when his eyes landed on you, all stiff and unmoving, he just sighed and slapped his forehead with his own palm.

“i hope you won’t stay like that all night.”

“like what?”

“like a creep, watching me sleep.”

“a creep? what do–”

“just lay down and sleep.”

theo issued his command and moved away from the topic at once, crawling back to his sleeping bag and sliding right in. ignoring you. even if you tried to continue the discussion, him turning his back towards you was enough evidence he did not want to interact with you more than necessary.

“okay, okay.”

you still answered him, sighing with exasperation at his bitchy attitude.

why was he so irritated tonight? indeed, theodore nott was not a big fan of yours, but his patience was never this fragile. maybe you angered him during the day? you don’t really remember talking to him at all though, more interested in spending time with mattheo’s girlfriend away from the boys.

the reasons behind his shitty behaviour will remain a mystery, as theo seemed to be adamant to go to sleep. you conceded too, finally laying down, closer to the edge of the tent, taking a similar sideway position as him.

the tent was warmer than yours, no rupture disturbing the temperature of the insides, yet the lack of covers did make your body curl into itself and seek more warmth. you did so for a few minutes, twisting and turning from side to side, searching for the optimal position.

theodore seems to be aware of it all as a long exhale emerged from his side of the tent. all loud — exaggeratedly so — and purposeful, acting as a warning, as a replacement for a verbal complaint.

you bit down on your bottom lip, hoping you were just reading too much into it, and shifted the position of your legs again. the loud whoosh sound of your pants across the tent material resonated around the entire shelter.

“move one more time and i am kicking you out.”

he spat the threat at you in a heavy tone, seriousness latched onto every word of his. he even betrayed his initial position and turned around to prove it, facing you for a third time that night.

“i am not doing it on purpose.” you hissed back at him, encircling your arms around your torso and pushing your knees further into your stomach, hoping he will realise cold was making you so restless.

“oh, so your body moves on its own?”

sassiness. mockery. rage.

“i am cold.” you blatantly stated, more of a whisper than a fully articulated sentence.

this will soften his resolve, right?

“not my problem.”

no.

you huffed out a shaky breath, curling tighter into yourself. your body was visibly shivering against the cool air, air that was sneaking underneath your pajama and pinching at your skin. you did not dare to spoke another word to him, certain his coldness will only worsen your situation; so, trembling into yourself deeper and deeper, you hoped your body will just heat up on its own.

silence stretched between the two of you, heavy and palpable. you paid theo no mind, completely averting your gaze from his emotionless face and closing them with an unspoken wish for sleep.

“fuck, fine. c’mere.”

your head snapped immediately at his words, your eyes locked in on theodore in an instant. “what?”

“you won’t sleep otherwise, right?” he muttered, reaching for the edge of his sleeping bag and pulling at the zipper just enough so you could slip in. “just– get in.”

your heart stuttered, nerves, confusion, and something else colliding inside you. carefully, you inched closer to him, joining him into the sleeping bag as instructed.

it was cramped. too cramped.

it was obvious the sleeping bag was made for one person only. yet you couldn’t complain. wouldn’t complain.

your thighs shifted against his, pajama pants brushing against pajama pants, and your chest pressed against his arm. the space between you two was almost non-existent, your bodies mushed under the too-small sleeping covers.

it was so strange, but it felt so good.

a sigh of pleasure slipped past your lips as your body soaked in the warmth of the sleeping bag and of theodore’s body. unconsciously, you even drew closer into him, dipping your head towards his clothed chest and–

“back off, weirdo.”

his hand emerged from underneath, pressing against your forehead and regaining some distance between the two of you. your upper body might have been pushed away towards the edge, but your lower body was strongly opposing theo by latching your legs to his own and keeping your ground.

“but you’re warm.”

“i don’t offer cuddles, so stop– ugh”

his complaints were interrupted by a deep loud groan. you would have said you hit a nerve with your forwardness, and that was his reaction.

but no.

you hit something else, something in the nether regions — your knee aimlessly nudged between his thighs in your attempts at trapping him, brushing against his cock.

his hard cock, if you were to be specific.

“oh my god, is that–”

“i told you to back–”

“is that why you’re so bitchy?”

you suddenly had a moment of epiphany: theodore nott was so irritated by your arrival because you ruined his jack-off session.

“you’re so weird, geez– ah.”

you kneed him again, this time applying more pressure to his cock. you did it to stop his mindless ramble, but also to see that raw reaction again. to see how his lips parted, quivering in pleasure, to see his annoyed eyes roll back at the slightest touch.

to feel how his shaft twitched against your leg.

“were you mid-stroke?”

oh, you were so taking advantage of his weakness, taunting and humiliating theodore for his previous actions. yet, your knee never stopped its ministration, shifting around his cock and applying just enough pressure to take theo’s breath away.

“and because of me, you didn’t finish?”

“f–fuck.”

his hand dropped completely from your head, slipping down your body and sliding right over your problematic knee. and with a harsh thug, he removed your leg altogether, forcing it in the opposite direction.

any sort of control you had over him disappeared.

“i really hate you, y’ know?”

he was angry. really angry. his hand on your knee was strong, pushing at your leg hard enough to hurt. the muscle stretch indeed burned, but so did his eyes. they were focused on your face, part of his gaze wishing to light you on fire and turn you to ashes, part of it to ignite a similar flame within you.

“give me one good reason why i shouldn’t throw you out, hm?”

his beautiful orbs betrayed him, but his tongue still spoke in lies.

he managed to captivate you fully, and for a moment you did not register his question. you only stared back into his eyes, forming a link with the hidden yet burning desire in them. that blazing lust was pouring out of his gaze straight into yours, only to slowly expand all throughout your entire body.

you were submerging in undeniable arousal, and his big hand pressing into your knee was keeping you underneath it all.

“i can help you out.”

so charmed by your own unwavering stare, theo did not registered the movement of your own hand, slowly creeping down his pajama top and sliding downwards to the band of his pants. your fingertips, still cold from theo’s negligence, dipped underneath the waistband in no time, only stopping their trail when reaching his cock.

“s–shit, fuck.”

his cock was heavy and hot in your palm, trembling at the mere contact with your cold fingers. his hips jerked upwards instinctively, his cock slotting deeper in your grip. it was all wet and sticky, covered in precum and what you assumed was theo’s own spit from before, so his shaft glided along your palm nicely.

“so cold, damn.”

a shaky exhale joined his remark, puffed against the crown of your head, as you slowly started to stroke him.

“told you so.”

you merely retorted, smirking against his clothed chest, allowing your hand to pick up a lazy, teasing rhythm. now it was the perfect time to torture him, carefully twisting your wrist and applying more pressure to the underside of his cock, or shamelessly thumbing at his weeping slit.

theodore couldn’t even complain, his tongue caged by a plethora of grunted moans and nonsensical babbles. his incoherence betrayed him, and so did his hand, leaving your poor knee alone and slapping itself on your ass.

with fingers spread out across your pants, he grabbed with vigour your left buttcheek.

“shut it.”

he growled low in his throat, all his pent-up frustration and need vibrating through both of your bodies. his hand was becoming greedier and greedier, groping and squeezing your ass at every harsh tug on his cock. and you had no mercy, sliding your hand up and down his shaft, with so much dexterity.

but when you dipped your other hand lower to his balls, fondling them at with a gentle touch, he too dipped his fingers into your pajama pants.

“oho, what do we have here?”

his warm fingers dragged downwards along your skin, smacking your ass one last time and, finally, dipping lower to your cunt. the tip of his digits pushed underneath your thong, all slutty and wet against your pussy, parting your sloppy fold with a single calculated stroke.

“dirty fucking girl.”

you moaned against his chest loud, unrestricted, taken by surprise by theo’s lack of hesitation at exploring your messy cunt. you could feel his fingers brushing up and down your slit, swimming in your arousal and collecting as much of your wetness as possible.

“all this just from jerking me off?”

he was taunting you, grinning like a little devil into your hair, somehow forgetting how needy and touch-starved he behaved just minutes ago.

you would have reminded him, really, but you couldn’t form one single coherent word as his fingers pressed down harshly on your clit.

“so so needy.”

tight little circles followed soon, his fingers toying with your little bundle of nerves to his heart’s content. theo finally found your irrefutable weakness — as long as he played with your quivering pussy, you were less annoying.

“i kind of like you like this.” theo mused, humming against your head as he peered down at your face. “look at me.”

you were less annoying and more obedient. you immediately listened to his command, raising your gaze up to his eyes, looking at him with your glassy orbs, so full of lust and desperation. your lips were caught between your teeth, already bruised and bullied in the process of quieting down.

but your tiny whines were loud enough for his ears to pick up.

you were so fucking cute.

“is that what it takes, huh? all i have to do is toy with your cunt to keep you in check?

his hand sped up, flicking your clit with the pad of his fingers. your hand on his cock stilled a while back, so overwhelmed by your own pleasure, but theo seems to not care about his release right now.

“what if i eat you out, hm? will you be a good girl for me?”

“theo! good god, yes.”

and here it was, your beautiful cracking voice, finally making its appearance after a good period of only moans and whimpers, accepting theodore’s proposal in a heartbeat. your pleading eyes were a nice touch to it all, making theo conform to your wishes without additional fuss.

“no takebacks.”

it’s all he says, like a warning, before retracting his palm from between your legs. and what he does next makes another glob of arousal gush out of you.

theodore nott removed his hand and directed it towards his mouth to lick it clean.

to lick it clean.

your wetness was all over his lips and tongue as he diligently lapped up all the stickiness from his hand.

“please, god. pleaseplease–”

“yeah, amore, i got you.”

pulling his fingers away from his mouth with a squelching pop, theo then completely discarded the covers of the sleeping bag, throwing the piece somewhere to the side.

“on your back, let me see that pretty pussy.”

you conformed to his words immediately, plopping yourself on your back and even discarding your pants and panties in the process. the garments joined the forgotten covers, the ones you’ve craved since the beginning of your intrusion.

but warmth was no longer important now, as you were practically burning with lust underneath theo’s predatory gaze.

his hands joined your knees again, applying enough pressure to part them away and create a passage for him and his hungry mouth. and no great effort was needed, your legs complying and allowing theo to finally see the mess between them.

“fuck, you’re soaking wet.”

his voice was gritty, disbelief laced with something darker, something feral. he was no longer mocking you — his gaze was locked between your thighs like a starved man, as if the gates of heaven have opened at the same time as your legs.

theo pushed your knees a bit more, just enough for him to slot himself between them. and you gasped as you felt his warm breath fanning over your pussy, your hole twitching in anticipation.

“spread wider for me, amore.”

you didn’t hesitate — again. your thighs stretched further apart for him, your muscles burning yet again from the pressure. but this was something you could handle for the sake of ultimate pleasure.

“fuckin’ perfect.” he muttered briefly and then–

his mouth was on your cunt.

his slippery tongue licked a long stripe from your pulsing entrance to your hard clit, savoring every drop of your arousal just like he did with his hand. your hips jerked upwards into his face, chasing his mouth — yet his arms immediately snaked around the upper part of your thighs, locking you in place and making you take every single flick of his tongue, every single kiss to your swollen pussy.

and when he sucked your clit in his mouth, between his plush wet lips? you sobbed.

“theo– that feels so good, fuck.”

your fingers clutched at his hair, tugging at his messed-up curls, needing something to hold onto as pleasure washed all over you. and that only made him delve into your cunt more, groaning in between your folds and making such vibrations travel straight to your clit.

your enjoyment was clear from miles away, but so was his. if you got extremely wet from fisting his cock, theo also got excruciatingly horny from licking your pussy. his hips were grounded into the sleeping mat, humping the surface in desperation as he lapped at your core.

he has been edged for quite some time now, and he was no longer patient.

he too needed to cum.

“always wanted to eat this pussy.”

theo was so pussy-drunk, god. you would have never in a million years expected theodore nott to announce between slurps and kisses how much he’s dreamed about your cunt.

“y–yeah?”

“yeah. i knew you’d have the tastiest fuckin’ cunt.”

his clothed cock was moving faster against the mat, the wet squelches of theo messily making out with your pussy being joined by the swish-ing sounds of the two materials colliding.

he was definitely close, and so were you.

“this” and he placed a kiss right against your clit. “haunted me all day.”

“shiiit… w–why?”

“your dress was so goddamn see-through, and fuck–”

theo was already picking up the pace, his tongue working harder to make you cum at the same time as him. his fingers even joined in, pulling your pussy lips apart for him to feast better on you, while his nose continued to poke and prod at your bundle of nerves.

“had a boner all fuckin’ day.”

and there it was. the full story on why theodore nott was jacking off before bed and why he was so irritated by your mere presence in his tent: he was affected by you all day and you had no idea.

“‘m sorry, ‘m sorry, ‘m so– ughh.”

you had no time to give him a warning, retorting to weak apologies as you creamed all over his face and tongue. thighs clamming around his head and convulsing from the immense pleasure.

theo, your brother’s best friend, just made you cum in his tent, on a camping trip with all of your close friends.

and that wasn't all.

“ah, shit, wait, wait.”

he didn’t stop.

no, no, no.

theodore continued to lap at your pussy, slurping up all of your release as he continued to jut his hips into the sleeping mat. and, finally, after a couple more seconds, with a guttural moan, he too came, spilling his release inside his boxers.

filthy, pathetic, and so so hot.

he pulled away from your pussy only after his own hips stabilized, moving up from the ground and away from between your legs. his face was wet, incredibly so, yet he was smiling bigger than ever.

with glistering lips and blown-out eyes, you expected theo to say something meaningful about the entire ordeal.

but alas, he was still the idiot friend of your brother.

“someone did eat you. but it wasn’t a bear.”

“oh, shut up.”

you were so done with him and his idiocy. if it weren’t for your shaky legs, you would have kicked him in the shins by now.

“what? you make a tasty meal.”

“nott, stop! you–”

“come tomorrow too.”

oh?

“i will steal condoms from mattheo and fuck you all night, amore.”

your breath hitched.

“… and the next night.”