#theodore nott drabble

[moscatosin]

Merlin forbid – why did it have to be true. Yes – you’ve got seven evil ex’s. All Slytherin’s. All still infatuated with you in their own unhinged ways...

🖤The first? Draco Malfoy. Blonde, beautiful, bitter and somehow thinks that you’re ‘technically his’ all because you held hands a few times after herbology and he gifted you a necklace with his initials. He monologues before every duel and calls it foreplay. Ugh – he’s pathetic.

🖤Then along came Theodore Nott. Reclusive. The kind of guy who kisses your wrists before he ruins your life. You didn’t ‘break up’, just vanished during the Yule Ball, a little before the second song ended. Poor guy. He keeps a drawer full of your old hair ties, polaroids and perfume bottles. A shrine? No – he says it’s a romantic homage.

🖤The third evil ex – Blaise Zabini; the boy you dated in your ‘it’s not that serious’ era. His problem? Blaise doesn’t do casual. So when you told him that you just wanted to be friends - with the added perk of benefits, he began to emotionally spiral and has ever since.

🖤Lucky number four? Mattheo Riddle. Yeah – that Mattheo. Pure chaos wrapped in leather and smoke. You dated him for a little shy of six months and broke up with him the day after he got your name tattooed on his chest. He’s the kind of guy who still dreams about you and tells you whenever he gets a chance.

🖤After all that – Lorenzo Berkshire. Obsessively charming. Or maybe not charming and just obsessed. You kissed under some mistletoe in Hogsmeade and soon after he was carving your initials into his wrists. He sends letters. Still. Each sealed with blood as wax and with threats written in French.

🖤Pansy Parkinson was next – mhmm, she really was just meant to be an experiment. Painfully hot. Excruciatingly violent. She announced that she hated you and then ended up making out with you one winter’s eve at the back of The Three Broomsticks while ‘Toxic’ by Britney blared throughout the pub. When things ended, she tried to set your dorm room on fire.

🖤Oh and the seventh? Well – that would be Tom Riddle. Not just your ex – fuck, Tom is your mistake. The boy who wanted to own you in the way people own artefacts or pets. Parade you around like the wicked little witch that you are; have you on a leash so should he choose to. You left a piece of yourself behind with him when things ended and ever since, he’s been clawing through universes to try and get you back.

But now – you’ve met Cedric. A boy who is too good, too sweet, too doomed. He claims almost poetically that he doesn’t care about your past. Haha! You almost want to believe the innocent Hufflepuff, and well; you nearly do…

…that is right up until one by one your ex’s start showing up – wands drawn, teeth bared, demanding rematches for another chance at winning your heart. And you?

Fuck.

You’re just trying to keep Cedric alive long enough to figure out if he’s worth dying for.

thank you to @i-await & @ur-local-wizard for letting me run this idea by them xo

[winnie1emon]

✧.* now what happens when you find a frustrated theodore nott on the quidditch pitch...?

theodore nott x prefect!lamb!reader (fem pov)

word count: approx. 2.4k

cw: MDNI!!, smut, dom!theo, innocent!reader, sexual language, praise, piv, fingering, unprotected sex, face painting lmao, slight exhibitionism(?)(on the quidditch stands lol)

a/n: first smut fic like ever i fear... don't bully please </3 + been working on this sleep-deprived, lmk about spelling mistakes :(

"Hey- hey!" you said loudly over the raging music, leaning over your friend's shoulder. "I'm gonna go; got prefect duty!"

Your friend, too engrossed in your house's quidditch victory party after they had beaten Slytherin earlier that evening, gave you a mere nod before realizing you actually said something. "Really? There are other prefects out anyways and you never find anyone. Don't be lame, just stay!"

"No, it's fine. I like walking outside anyways, it's fun," you explained, garnering a rather dismissive wave goodbye from your friend.

You trudged down the corridors searching for the way out of the castle. Curfew was approaching and you were given the task of finding a few stragglers outdoors; a task you most appreciated due to the fact you'd never find anybody and you were usually lucky with receiving ample amounts of good weather.

Too comfortable with the usual, you spent most of your patrol time frolicking on the grassy fields and never looked too carefully for any students. You were about to head back inside when you saw the broom shed's door open. Curiously, you peered inside and nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary...

A bit daunted, you closed the door and suddenly saw movement in the corner of your eye. You whipped around quickly, seeing someone flying on the quidditch pitch. You made your way into the pitch, assuming it was some overzealous lowerclassman riding on their broomstick.

As you made your way into the pitch, you realized how large it really was, somewhat awestruck. Hearing a distressed grunt, you turned around and saw the person who was flying, quite a distance away, chuck their broom onto the ground. You hastened over and the image came into view. Their brunette waves became clearer with each step you took and you managed to get their attention.

"H-hey!" You waved. You came to a stop in front of them, slightly huffing as they looked at you acutely. "Theodore, it's curfew in like... oh, two minutes ago."

Theodore raised an eyebrow at your words, seeming as if he had no idea who you were. "What?" he asked you, even though he heard what you said.

"It's past curfew, you can't be here," you said patiently. "What are you even doing here?"

"What's it look like?" he retorted. "Practicing," he added before you could answer his rhetoric question.

"Well... you should practice tomorrow. You already had that game today, you should take a break," you suggested.

He gave you what was probably the most condescending look ever, roaming over your figure. "Yeah, and we lost, princess. Need to practice."

"Don't overwork yourself," you said, your voice tinged with concern. "You were great today, I saw!"

"Mhm, probably cheering on your house, yeah?" he sneered. "Just get lost, I'm not harmin' anyone by practicing, but you're going to tell someone aren't you?" He looked a bit taut and you couldn't help but feel a bit of pity for him. After all, he wasn't the worst player on his team yet he was the only one here practicing, probably losing hairs in the process.

"No, I won't tell anyone," you said quickly. "You look exhausted though. At least sit down." You trailed all the way to one of the tall wooden towers going up to the quidditch spectator stands, feeling the wooden bench poke your thighs. Surprisingly, he sat beside you on your right with a grunt, running his hands through his hair.

Well, now what.

You peered at him in wonderment as his gaze was set straight, admiring his birthmark. Your eyes trailed around the side of his face, looking at his thick, dark brows and then at his slightly unkempt hair. He turned suddenly to face you and you darted your head away, embarrassed. He let out a small scoff, throwing his head down in a smirk.

"So," you started. "You like quidditch?" you asked dumbly. He obviously did... he plays.

"I do," he responded. "When we win."

"You guys almost did," you consoled him, tentatively reaching to rub his shoulder.

Theodore didn't protest, finding the way your palm's touch warmed his shoulder unexpectedly comforting. He looked at your seemingly apologetic face before his eyes wandered down your form, going from your neck and then down to your legs.

"Mm, almost."

Fidgeting with your fingers, you spoke up again. "Yeah, almost! Almost is good!" You reassured him. "Don't beat yourself up-- you're already so stressed." You recalled the instances in class where he'd focus on his work, the times you saw him in the library as you patrolled the halls, and the way he never seemed to hang out with his friends this past week.

"Oh princess," he said, calling you that nickname again, making you turn a light shade of pink. "When has almost winning ever helped anyone? What can I do about the stress? Nothing's going to change if I don't work." He gave a nonchalant shrug, breaking contact with your sorry eyes as he buried his head in his hands.

"Uhm... I mean, do you want help?" You peered at him, wide-eyed and full of pity.

--------------------------------------------------------

And that's how you found yourself sitting on the open quidditch stands, thighs squeezed together with your head downcast as Theodore rubbed lazy circles over your underwear.

"I-I don't really see how this is supposed to help you," you mumbled.

He used his other hand to hold your chin gently, guiding your head to face him. "You think seeing a pretty girl like you lookin' like this doesn't help me?" he simpered. You felt your face heat up from the compliment, shifting your thighs to press against each other some more.

He let go of your chin and you looked down to watch him spread your thighs apart gently. Despite never being his friend, his touch felt familiar, even soothing. In fact, you didn't protest against him, even when you felt him slip your underwear to the side and insert a thick finger into your cunt.

Your mouth agape, you turned to look at him, brows knitting together as he met your gaze with a lascivious smile. You pressed your lips together to try and catch your breath, but it only lasted a few seconds as your lips parted once he entered another digit into you. He moved slowly, not taking his eyes off of yours, drinking in your dazed look.

You felt his pace increase, his fingers going in and out of your now glossy cunt rapidly, and let out a shaky moan which made Theodore's mouth contort in a wicked smile. You threw your head back, looking up at the greying sky. He leaned closer to you, his warm breath hitting your ear as he whispered.

"Feels good, yeah? Feels good to help me decompress hm?" He asked you quietly, having you squirm from his touch. You nodded meekly and let out a small yeah in response.

You had never experienced anything like this before. You were sort of scared, but also excited... maybe a bit confused? ...happy to help?

His touch eventually slowed, his two now-soaked fingers leaving your cunt as he held them up in front of you. Your eyes followed his fingers, your face turning into that of surprise as he brought his fingers into his mouth momentarily.

"So sweet..." he breathed out. "Come on, open up," he slapped your cheek lightly with his clean hand.

You opened your mouth slightly, your eyes looking reluctant.

"Come on, don't be scared," he cooed. You opened a little wider and he gently placed the two fingers on your tongue. You swirled your tongue around slowly, tasting sweet, kind of salty as well, but you weren't sure if that was you or his fingers. Taking in your appearance with his fingers in your mouth, he gave a breathy chuckle. "Cute."

He stood up from the bench with a sigh, taking a step in front of you. "Just one more thing, that okay?" he asked, the corners of his mouth curving into a smile.

"Yeah- yeah sure," you agreed. Even though you were unfamiliar with what you guys were doing, you were just glad you could help him out in some way.

"Good girl. --Has anyone told you how sweet you are?" He leaned forward slightly and cupped your cheeks to tilt your head upwards as you stayed seated on the bench.

"Some people, mhm," you nodded.

"Well, they weren't lying." He complimented you casually, making your stomach lurch in an oddly pleasant way. You adverted your gaze so you could soak in his compliment, your head then snapping up at the sound of a zipper. He gave you a wink that you'd be thinking about for the next week and a dazzling smile that you couldn't protest against.

He guided your legs up off the ground so you'd be kneeling on the stands bench and turned you around, having you facing opposite of the center of the quidditch pitch, towards the castle. Your eyes widened from the circumstances, the risk of being so exposed. You heard him shuffle a little behind you, the sound of his pants going down, boxers following.

You felt one of his cold fingers brush against your skin as he pushed your skirt up, making you shudder. He pulled your sodden underwear down and you heard him take a sharp inhale. His fingers ran over your folds, eliciting a groan from him. "You're so wet... n' you've never done this?" he asked you.

You shook your head, making him sigh.

"And you really want to give this to me?"

"Yeah, I do," you muttered quietly. You didn't care that it was Theodore, you just saw him as someone who needed some help and you were going to give it to them... Oh, who were you kidding? Of course you cared that it was Theodore. The Slytherin that you'd always catch yourself ogling at during the quidditch games, the one you'd stare at in potions, the guy you'd hold the door open for before Charms class.

Seeing no reason to delay his pleasure, Theodore positioned himself between your legs, holding your waist from behind as he pushed the tip of his cock into your ready cunt. You couldn't help the large gasp you let out while he stretched you out. You tried to recuperate momentarily, but he continued to enter you slowly, feeling as if there was no end.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he murmured. He slid in and out of you slowly, picking up the pace over time before you started to let out involuntary moans.

"Theo- Theodore," you huffed out, almost whining. "The castle-- someone could see us," you worried.

His pace becoming incontinent, he brushed off your concern with ease. "No one will, okay?"

Even with his reassurance, you couldn't help but feel sheepish, your anxiety spiking as the thrill got to you.

"Oh my g-god," you moaned. Theodore leaned into your back, head resting on the nape of your shoulder. He snaked his arm on your other shoulder, putting you in a headlock. You brought your hands up to hold his arm, your mind going blank as he started up a relentless speed on you and had his other arm travel down to rub on your clit.

"Shh, shh," he whispered. "Now they will see us if you don't quiet down, yeah?" You nodded in agreement, understanding that you mustn't be loud. After a few minutes of biting back your moans as he drilled into you, he positioned you to lie on your back, on one of the benches. You complied and allowed him to reposition himself into you.

"F-fuck!" You mewled, unable to contain yourself in the new position.

"Shh, shh, shhh..." he shushed you once again, covering your mouth with a large hand as the other held both of your legs against his chest. "Be quiet for me, okay? You can do it," he murmured into your ear, leaning forward to kiss your cheek.

You nodded slowly as you looked up at him when he pulled his head away from you. "Good... so good."

So entranced by his eye contact, your brain drowned out the sounds of his cock going in and out of your sopping cunt, forgetting all about your precarious surroundings.

You felt the knot in your stomach begin to unravel and you knew that your orgasm was nearing. You clawed at Theodore's hand that was on your mouth and he let go, allowing your ragged gasps to float out into the air.

"You okay?" he asked you. "You close?" He couldn't help but smile endearingly at your state, horribly disheveled, biting your own lip to keep yourself from attracting attention.

"Mm," you nodded weakly, feeling your legs begin to shake. As you came undone, you felt him slow down, letting out groans of his own. You bit down on your lips harder and you could feel tears creeping into your eyes as you felt overloaded with sensations. He pulled out of you with a light pop and stepped towards your head.

He had his cock a few inches above your face and looked hesitant before asking, "May I?"

You honestly weren't very sure of what he was requesting, but you let out a soft yeah, being surprised once he spilled onto your face.

Your lips parted into an o-shape as you squinted slightly. After one last drop, you ran a finger on your cheek, observing the mark he left on you trailing down your finger. He dropped his hands to his side and crouched down to be face level with you. He cupped your face with his hands as he ushered you to sit up.

"You're a sweetheart, so nice of you to help," he praised. Even though he had just done things to you that you'd never even been brave enough to imagine an hour prior, you couldn't fight back the bashful look on your face.

"Of course," you whispered. "Do you feel better?" you asked, pulling your underwear back up.

"Yeah, yeah I do," he chortled. He leaned forward, pressing a kiss on your forehead.

You saw the sky darkening by the second and looked out the pitch. "Oh! Someone's coming!" you exclaimed.

He gave a mischievous smile that you could stare at for days, planted a quick kiss on your lips, and grabbed your hand to stand you up, brushing ur skirt down to cover your behind.

"Then let's go."

―――――――――ʚ♡ɞ―――――――――

[nottsangel]

Theo making his strokes deliberately so the headboard bangs against Ron's wall to make sure he knows what’s going on 👀

tw voyeurism.

thud. thud. thud. theo’s bed slams into the wall with each harsh thrust, your knees pinned to your chest under the weight of his body. he supports himself on one forearm right beside you, while other hand cradles the top of your head, protecting it from banging against the headboard.

“teddy—” you gasp when the tip brushes against your sensitive g-spot, not even registering the loud thumps against the wall over your own moans. but theo does— in fact, he knows exactly who’s listening on the other side on the wall. and not just listening.

ron has a clammy hand wrapped around his leaking cock, the other fisting the sheets in desperation, as he softly whines your name. his brain turns to mush as all kinds of vivid, filthy scenarios rush through his mind— you riding him, sucking him off, stroking his cock with those pretty hands… he doesn’t even know what to focus on. the steady rhythm of the headboard combined with your lewd moans make his head spin and his mouth run dry.

theo, on the other hand, is focused on only one thing— making as much noise as possible. because what he’s doing to you here in his bed? ron can only dream of it. it makes him feel proud, cocky, self satisfied. it strokes his ego in ways he wouldn’t want to admit. and he doesn’t need to, because his fucked out girlfriend hasn’t got a clue.

he leans in, soft lips brushing against your ear as he pushes your legs even higher, practically folding you in half, before whispering just a single word, “louder.” his thrusts grow frantic yet calculated, hitting all the right spots at a brutal pace. not even a second later, loud, pornographic cries spill from your lips, and he smirks in pride and satisfaction.

god, you’re always such a good girl for him. that’s right— just for him. and ron? poor guy only has his right hand, because he’ll never get to experience you the way theodore can.

ੈ♡˳

[ahqkas]

♯ JEALOU$Y ; theodore nott

PAIRING! theodore nott x fem!reader

SYNOPSIS! an unexpected situation catches you off guard in the heart of florence and your boyfriend reveals a side of him you’ve never seen before (based off this req.!!)

WARNINGS AND TAGS! fluff, jealous + italian theo, translation of foreign language + lmk !

WORD COUNT! 1.3k

NOTES! he’s so fine when he’s jealous❕

HARRY POTTER MASTERLIST!

© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified

THEODORE NOTT WAS FAR FROM HAVING A SHORT TEMPER (UNLIKE HIS BEST FRIEND) BUT THAT DIDN'T MEAN HE WAS NECESSARILY CARELESS. Sometimes, jealousy wrapped around his heart like the snake representing his house, squeezing and picking at the muscle, giving it wounds for blood to shed from.

And every time he tried to push those feelings aside, they came back even stronger than before in a crashing wave full of raw emotion. He felt like a puppet on a string that was pulled tight by the cruel hands of jealousy. His actions were no longer his own.

The summer sun bathed the picturesque streets of Florence in a warm, golden glow, casting a honeyed hue over the ancient city. Cobblestone pathways, worn smooth by centuries of footsteps, stretched along the bustling streets. Each turn revealed a new delight: charming cafés with wrought-iron tables spilling onto the sidewalks, historic landmarks standing as silent reminders of the past, and vibrant marketplaces bursting with life and color. The air was rich with the scent of blooming flowers, mingling with the earthy aroma of aged stone and the tantalizing whiff of fresh espresso. The fragrance was an intoxicating blend, making every breath feel like a taste of paradise. The sounds of Florence added to the sensory feast: the melodic chatter of locals and tourists, the clinking of glasses and cutlery from the outdoor restaurants, and the distant strains of street musicians playing heavenly tunes on their violins and accordions.

Florence, in the embrace of summer, was absolutely beautiful. It was a place where history and romance intertwined, where every corner held a new discovery, and every moment was a celebration of the beauty of life. The city's magic lay not just in its landmarks, but in the way it made you feel — alive, enchanted, and eternally in love with the world around you.

You walked hand in hand with Theodore, your fingers intertwined in one as you explored the enchanting city. This vacation had been his idea, a chance for the two of you to escape the pressures of Hogwarts and immerse yourselves in the beauty and romance of Italy. Theo's Italian heritage made the trip even more special; he was eager to show you the places that held a special place in his heart.

As you wandered through a bustling street, you paused to admire a street artist's breathtaking paintings. The vibrant colors and detailed brushstrokes captured the scenery of Florence in ways that made the city's beauty stand out even more, and you found yourself lost in the artwork. Theo had stepped away momentarily to get you both something to eat from a nearby stand, leaving you alone but content. The hum of the city buzzed around you, voices of people blending with the occasional strum of a guitar.

While you were engrossed in the art, a group of local boys approached, their laughter and chatter filling the air. They were handsome and confident, their flirtatious smiles and easy charm unmistakable. One of them, with dark, curly hair and a mischievous grin, stepped forward, clearly intent on catching your attention. His eyes sparkled with interest as he gestured towards you.

"Sei molto bella." ("You are very beautiful.")

You blinked, a bit taken aback. Although you had picked up a few phrases during your time with Theo, your grasp of the language was far from fluent. You understood enough to know that he was complimenting you, but the exact words of meaning escaped you.

Before you could respond, another boy joined in, his tone equally playful. "Vuoi venire a fare una passeggiata con noi?" ("Do you want to go for a walk with us?")

You felt a flush rise to your cheeks, both from the unexpected attention and your inability to respond. Your eyes darted around, hoping to spot your boyfriend. You were feeling increasingly uncomfortable, unsure how to extricate yourself from the situation.

Just as you were about to attempt a polite but awkward decline, you heard Theo's voice, sharp and commanding. "Ehi, lasciatela in pace!" ("Hey, leave her alone!")

The transformation in him was startling. Theo, usually so calm and composed, had a fierce intensity in his eyes. He stepped between you and the group of boys, his posture protective, his expression a stormy mix of anger and determination. The easygoing demeanor he often sported was replaced by a fierce warning.

His broad shoulders squared, blocking the boys' view of you completely, creating a barrier that was both physical and emotional. The bright warmth of the sun seemed to dim in comparison to the fire that burned in Theo's gaze. It was as if a switch had been flipped, transforming him from the gentle, sweet boyfriend you knew into a guardian ready to defend the owner of his heart and soul.

The boys, who had moments ago been brimming with confidence, raised their hands in mock surrender, laughing nervously. "Calmati, amico. Non volevamo causare problemi," one of them said, trying to diffuse the situation. ("Calm down, friend. We didn't want to cause trouble.")

But Theo wasn't having any of it. Each word was a blade of a dagger, cutting through the casual flirtation of the boys, leaving no room for doubt about his intentions. "Non vedete che non è interessata? Andatevene prima che mi arrabbi davvero." ("Can't you see she's not interested? Walk away before I really get angry."). His voice was low and menacing as he continued in rapid Italian, his words too fast for you to catch but clearly effective in making the boys rethink their approach. They muttered a few apologies before scurrying away, casting wary glances over their shoulders.

Theo turned to you, his eyes softening instantly as he took in your bewildered expression. The fierce protector you had just witnessed melted away, replaced by your sweet boy you knew so well. "Are you okay?" His hand found yours, fingers intertwining in a comforting touch.

You nodded, still a bit shaken. "I'm fine. They were just . . . I didn't understand what they were saying," you admitted, feeling a bit embarrassed.

Theo's lips curved into a reassuring smile. "They were trying to flirt with you," he explained. "But don't worry, they're gone now."

You managed a small laugh, the tension easing out of your body. "I figured that much," you said, your voice lightening. "Thank you, Theo."

He stepped closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his side. The warmth of his embrace and the steady beat of his heart were instantly calming. "I'm sorry if I scared you," he murmured, his breath brushing against your hair. "I just couldn't stand the thought of them bothering you."

You looked up at him, your eyes meeting his. The fierce protectiveness in his gaze had melted into something softer, more tender. "You were amazing," you said honestly. "I've never seen you like that before."

Theo's smile widened, a hint of pride in his expression. "Well, I can't help it," he said, his tone teasing but sincere. "You bring out the best in me."

As you continued your walk through the beautiful streets of Florence, Theo kept you close, his arm securely around you. The incident with the local boys faded into the background, replaced by the joy of being together in such a magical place. The city's charm and Theo's unwavering affection made you feel like you were living in a dream.

Later that evening, as you sat together at a cozy café, sipping on rich Italian espresso, you couldn't help but feel grateful for Theo. His protective nature, his deep love for you, and his ability to make you feel safe and cherished were all things you treasured deeply. As the sun set over the Florence skyline, painting the sky in brilliant hues of pink and orange, you leaned into Theo, feeling utterly content.

In that moment, with the world bathed in the soft glow of twilight, you knew that no matter where you were, as long as you were with Theo, you were home.

[nottsamor]

2 in one — theodore nott & mattheo riddle

summary : they knew they had to have you at least once, and so they did.

authors note: i GENUINELY hate this but wtv

"shitt look at her, takin' us so well." mattheo chuckled lowly, hands gripping onto your hair as he pushed your head deeper to take his cock fully inside your mouth. theodore groaned, head falling back as his hands were holding onto your hips, moving his hips against your own. "she is, isn't she? such a fuckin' slut for us." one of his hands slapped your ass.

you whined against mattheo's cock. he hissed, pushing your head deeper. "shh, shut the fuck up. don't need you to talk." he grumbled under his breath. "She's so tight, man." theo gritted his teeth. one of his hands went around your waist, meeting around at your stomach. smirking, theo spoke. "shitt cara, 'can feel me inside you."

you blushed, feeling how he pushed inside you, pushing down on the bulge in your lower stomach. you controlled a moan, looking up at mattheo with half lidded eyes as he brushed a strand of hair away from your face, brushing it past your ear with his free hand.

"didn't know you were such a slut," mattheo chuckled, theo chuckling as well. the both of them were enjoying this tremendously, you knew they were. you didn't even know why you agreed to this, well, you did. they were two of the hottest best friends in your house, how could you just resist?

"y'know, i always saw you walking around with that little skirt of yours, showing yourself off, damn.. always thought about how pretty you'd look bent over. now i know." theo smirked, his calloused hands tracing all over your body.

"she's a pretty thing, theo. sweetest we've had." mattheo talked about you like you weren't even here, sporting the same exact smirk on his face, pushing your head deeper as he met theo's gaze.

"she's so damn tight around me, you want my cock that bad?" theo only received a nod and whines in return, "shh, okay shut up." mattheo pushed your head deeper once again. "ah fuck, 'm gonna come." theo bit his bottom lip, tightening his hold against your hips.

only a few minutes later, you felt warm liquid fill your throat, along with the feeling of something warm entering from behind you. you whined, mattheo letting go of your head as theo held you close to him, back against his chest as he rode out his high.

"Shit bella, you did so amazin.'" theo breathed into your neck, planting a few kisses here and there as mattheo frowned. "'S not over yet, i needa come in her ass too."

[lov3notts]

hot tub

Theodore Nott x F!Reader

Summary: Theo can't keep his hands off you after seeing you in a swim suit, but lack the privacy to really show you how much craves you, I guess the the hot tub will do for now

warnings: smut, semi-public, cream pie, use of pet names, kinda both point of views?? idk

a/n: had the sudden motivation to write!! also I've made a library blog(consists of me only rebloging all of my work)

18+only: minors don’t interact

Navigation; masterlist; request rules

Theodore's eyes darken with desire as he watches you approach the hot tub, your figure accentuated by the revealing swimsuit. A slow smile spreads across his face as he takes in the sight of you, his gaze lingering on your curves. 

As you slip into the hot tub, the warm water envelops your body, sending a shiver of pleasure through you. You settle in next to Theodore, the heat of his body radiating against your skin.

His hand finds your thigh, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your smooth skin, softly massaging you. You tilt your head back, your eyes fluttering closed as you relax into his touch.

"Mmm, that feels nice baby " you murmur, a soft smile playing at your lips.

God the way his hands hit all the right spots

Fuck, he was hard. He was so hard. It'd be so so easy to tug you into his lap and fuck you senseless , but no. He wasn't gonna go that far. not yet anyways

Luckily, the bubbling of the hot tub made it difficult to peer under the surface. Everything was warped and bubbly, and only slight silhouettes were visible. Theo was about to take that shit to his advantage.

"Come here, amore" he murmurs, his voice low and seductive

Before you can respond, he tugs you onto his lap, your body settling against his in the warm water. You gasp, your hands instinctively gripping his shoulders for balance

Theodore's hand slides around your waist, tugging you closer until you're straddling his lap. You gasp as you feel his hardness pressing insistently against your core through the water.

"I need you so fucking bad" he groans, grinding his rock-hard cock against your core. "Need to be inside you. Need to feel your tight little cunt squeezing my dick."

His lips find your neck, trailing hot, wet kisses along your skin. You moan softly, your head falling back as you surrender to his touch.

Theodore's hand continues its torturous exploration beneath the surface of the water, his fingers dancing along your sensitive skin.

His touch is maddening, alternating between feather-light caresses and firm, purposeful strokes. You squirm in his grasp, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps

He captures your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth with a hunger that steals your breath away. You moan into his mouth, your fingers tangling in his dark brown locks.

His fingers tracing the curve of your breast. You bite your lip, trying to stifle the moan that threatens to escape. The heat of the water and the intensity of Theodore's touch are almost too much to bear.

Around you, his friends continue their conversation, seemingly unaware of the passion simmering just beneath the surface. They laugh and joke, splashing each other playfully in the cool water of the pool.

Theodore's hand slips lower, his fingers skimming over your stomach and towards the waistband of your swimsuit bottoms. You gasp, your hips instinctively lifting to give him better access.

"Theo" you breathe, your voice barely above a whisper. "We can't... Not here."

But even as you say the words, you can feel your resolve crumbling under the weight of his touch. The risk, the thrill of possibly being caught, only serves to heighten your arousal.

Theodore's hand cups you intimately, his fingers stroking your most sensitive spot. He nuzzles your neck, his teeth grazing your sensitive skin as he whispers,

"Relax, tesoro. No one's paying attention to us. They think we're just a couple being affectionate."

His fingers dip lower, slipping beneath the fabric of your swimsuit. You gasp, your body tensing at the intimate contact. Theodore chuckles, the sound low and seductive.

"See? Nothing to worry about. Just enjoy it."

"Theo, please" you whisper, your voice trembling. "Not here. Someone might see."

Theo’s hand slips further, his fingers delving deeper. You cry out, the sound muffled by his lips as he captures your mouth in a heated kiss. His tongue plunders your mouth, matching the rhythm of his hand's movements.

Theodore's hand slides lower, his fingers tracing the curve of your hip. You bite your lip, your body responding to his touch despite your best efforts to resist. The game, the thrill of the chase, it's all so intoxicating. You can feel yourself being drawn in deeper and deeper, unable to resist the pull of Theodore's touch.

His tongue delving into your mouth with a hunger that steals your breath away. You moan into his mouth, your body pressing closer to his.

Around you, the party continues, the music pulsing and the laughter ringing out. But in your little corner of the hot tub, it's just you and Theodore, lost in a world of your own making.

you let your own hands start to explore his body. Your fingers trace the defined lines of his chest, feeling the hard muscles beneath his skin. He groans softly, his head falling back as you tease him.

"That's it, amore" he encourages, his voice low and husky. "Touch me. Make me feel good."

Your hand slides lower, skimming over his abs and down to the waistband of his swim trunks. You can feel him twitch beneath your touch, his body responding to your boldness.

Theodore's hands grow bolder, tugging at your swimsuit until the fabric is pulled aside, exposing your most intimate parts. You gasp, your body tensing at the sudden exposure.

"Theo, wait," you whisper urgently, glancing around to make sure no one is watching.

"Someone might see!"

But Theo just smirks, his fingers teasing your sensitive flesh. "Let them see. I want them to know that you're mine."

His words are like a spell, and you find yourself surrendering to the sensation, your hips lifting to meet his touch. Theodore positions himself, his hardness pressing against your entrance. His body slipping inside yours with a breathy gasp.

“Fuck theo-” You moan softly as he fills you, your body stretching to accommodate his size.

Theodore leans in, his lips brushing against your ear as he murmurs,

"That's it, bella. Take all of me. god you feel so good."

His words send a shiver of pleasure through you, and you start to move, your hips rocking against his. Theodore groans, his grip on your hips tightening.

He starts to move, his hips rocking against yours in a slow, steady rhythm. You gasp, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you try to muffle your moans. 

the music and laughter fading into the background as you lose yourself to the sensation of Theodore inside you. You cling to him, your body moving with his, meeting each thrust with your own desperate motions.

he groans, his voice low and strained.  "You feel so good. So tight and wet around me."

He groans softly, his fingers digging into your hips as he guides you down further. You moan, your nails raking down his back as you adjust to his size.

"That's it, tesoro," he breathes, his voice strained with desire. "Be a good girl and take all of me. i know you can & i know you want too"

& you do want to. More than anything. But the fear of being caught, the knowledge that anyone could stumble upon you at any moment, only serves to heighten your arousal.

Theodore captures your lips in a kiss. His tongue plunders your mouth, matching the rhythm of your hips. You cling to him, your body arching into his as you lose yourself to the pleasure.

you find yourself moving faster, your body craving release. Theodore meets your every movement , his hands roaming your body with a hunger that matches your own.

As the pleasure builds, you can feel your climax approaching.

”theo-  i - fuckk, feels so good” You bury your face in Theodore's neck, muffling your moans as you teeter on the brink.

"What's the matter, baby?" he murmurs, his voice low and seductive. "Can't handle a little fun in the hot tub?"

He punctuates his words with a particularly deep thrust, his hips rocking against yours in a slow, steady rhythm. You gasp, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you try to muffle your moans.

Theodore chuckles, his breath hot against your ear as he continues to move inside you.

His thrusts are slow and deep, designed to bring you both to the brink of ecstasy without drawing too much attention. His breath coming in short, sharp gasps. your body moving with his, meeting each thrust with your own desperate motions.

“god- I love watching you take me," he groans, his voice strained with pleasure. "cum for me. Let me feel you tighten around me."

As Theodore's thrusts grow faster and harder, you feel your own climax building, a coil of tension winding tighter and tighter in your core. Your moans grow louder, your body trembling with the intensity of your pleasure.

Theodore's hand slides between your bodies, his fingers finding your most sensitive spot.

He rubs in tight, circular motions, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

Suddenly, you cry out, your body convulsing with the force of your release. Wave after wave of pleasure crashes over you, your inner walls clenching around Theodore as you ride out your orgasm.

Theodore groans, his hips jerking as he spills himself inside you, his own release triggered by yours. You cling to him, your body shaking with the aftershocks of your climax.

Slowly, you come down from your high, your breathing slowly returning to normal.

You blush, your heart still pounding in your chest. The thrill of what you've just done, the risk you've taken, it's all still sinking in.

Theodore chuckles softly, his hand sliding up your back.

 "Don't worry, Amore. Our little secret."

He presses a soft kiss to your temple, and you find yourself melting into his embrace, your body still tingling with the aftershocks of your forbidden tryst.

He nips at your earlobe, his teeth grazing your skin and sending a shiver of pleasure down your spine.

"But don't think this is over" he continues, his voice low and seductive. "I'm going to want more of you, Dolcezza. Much more."

His hand slides lower, his fingers teasing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.

"In fact," he purrs, his breath hot against your ear "I think I've got a few ideas for how we can spend the rest of the night. Ideas that don't involve a hot tub or an audience."

He pulls back, his dark eyes meeting yours, a promise of pleasure and mischief dancing in their depths.

"What do you say, baby?" he asks, his voice a low, seductive purr. "Let's get out of here, shall we? I've got a few things I want to show you."

ᥫ᭡reblog's & comment's are appreciatedᥫ᭡

©lov3notts ,do not copy, translate or claim any of my writing or works as your own.

taglist: @esmerai-artemis @jetblackpayne @broadwaybaby123 @slytherin-baddie @melsunshine @kusakiguzen @westcanaan82

[nottswitch]

need us having a guy over and hooking up with him while sister’s bf!theo is there and he can hear. how would he react?

꒰ sister’s bf!theo hears you fucking his bsf mattheo ꒱

cw: 18+ mdni, voyeurism, masturbating (m), implied unprotected p in v, implied creampie, hair pulling, cursing, mentions of cheating

a/n: well hi there. we’re fucking his bsf matty here, i hope you don’t mind. i’ve been waiting to write this for so long, and finally we’re getting to it, so buckle up !!

⋆˚꩜｡

the sound of music coming from of your room is pretty much a habit at this point. theo isn’t surprised when he hears a faint sound of some chase atlantic song, chuckling to himself – god, you’re annoying with this band, much like his best friend, who always puts them on when he’s on aux duty. theo places his spare keys on the small vanity at the door – he’s come to wait for your sister, who had to run some errands this afternoon.

but as he walks further into the apartment, planning to make himself some coffee in the kitchen, he has to stop and listen closer. the music is suddenly not the only thing he can hear. his eyebrows knit together as he starts to distinguish… moans? he’s never heard you moaning like that before, that freely and loudly. whenever you were with him, under his mouth and fingers, your sounds were always low, stifled, always under threat of being exposed. now… you were unashamed and loud as hell.

despite himself, theo starts walking in the direction of your room. he can’t help being drawn there, and he curses quietly as he feels his cock starting to harden in his jeans – you sound that good. however, as he closes in, he hears something else, something that makes his frown deepen significantly. another set of moans and groans, male. there’s no fucking way.

surprisingly, or not, the door to your room is cracked open. of course, theo is a weak, weak man, and he has to know, has to confirm his assumptions. as he peers into the crack, he nearly chokes on air. there, on your bed, you’re in a very delicious position, ass up face down, your hands fisting the sheets as a guy pounds into you from behind, his fingers firmly digging into your hips. and not just any guy – theo’s very best friend, mattheo.

fucking chase atlantic. should’ve been a dead giveaway.

theo feels a wave of pure jealousy wash over him as he watches his friend take you in a way that theo could only dream of. he’s gonna kill him, he thinks – mattheo is fully aware of everything going on between you and theo, and still, he decided go against every single variation of bro code in existence… he almost groans aloud, having to bite his bottom lip to silence himself. the scene in front on him has no business being this hot.

without really thinking, theo unzips his jeans and pulls them down along with his boxers, his hard cock eagerly springing out and already leaking at the tip. his hand closes around the base, his breathing turning shallow as he watches mattheo grab a fistful of your hair to pull your body up against his chest.

"you feel so fucking good, baby," he hears his friend growl into your ear, thrusting deeper and eliciting a sweet, high-pitched moan out of you. theo grits his teeth as his hand starts stroking his cock, the rage he feels towards mattheo mixing with his burning arousal. precum drips down his length, his fingers smearing it all over, and he has to be slower than he wants to be in order not to give himself away by the slick sounds of him jerking off.

"my mate is a fucking idiot, missing out on all this." mattheo’s words make theo’s free hand curl into a fist, the desire to punch his friend overridden only by the pleasure he’s feeling as he starts pumping his other hand faster. he knows mattheo is right – theo has been the one refusing to fuck you so far, because apparently that would be cheating on your sister, and him dry humping you into oblivion every chance he gets isn’t. but this realization doesn’t make it easier; it makes it harder, in more ways than one.

mattheo’s pace inside of you grows quicker, the sounds of skin slapping against skin filling the room, and at this point, the entire apartment. theo’s lips part as he watches your body move along with his friend’s thrusts, your tits bouncing up and down and making his mouth go dry. his cock twitches in his hold, and he feels his orgasm inching closer and closer with every moan you let out.

"you close, baby?" he hears mattheo’s ragged whisper, and your frantic nod is almost all it takes to bring theo over the edge. he can’t believe himself – he’s jacking off to the sight of his best friend fucking you, and he’s about to witness you cum on his dick. no wonder you will, he’s seen mattheo’s dick himself, it’s a goddamn fuck machine…

when your whole body shakes, and your voice grows hoarse from the pleasured moan you let out at your orgasm, theo can’t hold himself back – he spills into his hand, bracing himself against the wall by leaning on his forearm. the sticky mess of his cum seeping through his fingers is a shameful reminder of what has just happened – he jerked himself off watching his best mate fuck you. god, was it really worth it? the post-nut clarity is strong, and it only gets worse when he witnesses mattheo not even thinking of pulling out when he cums. this fucking bastard…

theo decides for himself right that moment that he absolutely needs to fuck you, his pride be damned – not like he has much of it left anyway. and maybe punch mattheo a couple of times.

au. more.

[iamgonnagetyouback]

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

[nottsluvv]

⌦ breeding kink with theo ｡ navigation ꕀ masterlists ꕀ rules ꕀ anons ꕀ aus ꕀ readers

warnings ꕀ mdni, smut 18+, penetration, creampie, breeding kink, italian, italian petnames, size kink(ish), fluff (because theo just has to talk us thru it)

he places his hands on either side of your head and you hold his wrists tightly as he rubs the head of his cock against your clit, making you whine and moan under him. “sei pronta, bella (are you ready, beautiful)?”

theo leans down to capture your mouth with another kiss, his tongue slipping into yours as he explores your mouth. he pushes the tip of his cock into you at the same time, and you whimper into his mouth at the sudden contact. 

he slowly pushes into you, inch by inch, dragging his cock against your walls before finally bottoming out, the head of his cock pushing up against your cervix. you arch your back, his name moaned out loudly as you grip his wrists tightly.

“theo!”

theo ceases his movements, letting you adjust to his size, your body writhing underneath his. you could feel him everywhere, and you couldn’t remember the last time you had felt more full. 

“cazzo—so fucking tight, so fucking good f’me,” theo bites out, his head falling down, his forehead resting against yours as he groans. he starts to slowly pull out and push in, thrusting in gently, letting you feel his cock along your folds deliciously.

whimpers of his name fall from your lips as you cling to his wrists, his fingers digging into the sheets next to your head. with each slow thrust, he kisses you softly, slipping his tongue into your mouth, swallowing your pretty moans.

he continues at this pace for what seems like forever, leaving you a whining, moaning mess under him as you roll your hips against his weakly, eyes rolled back at the overstimulation. you can feel his hard cock everywhere inside you, making you feel overwhelmingly full.

theo smirks against your mouth as he feels you clench around him, and he quickens his pace, pounding into you a little harder, your tits bouncing lightly underneath him.

“does that feel good, cara mia?” he coos, smirking at the dumb face you were making, your eyes rolled partway back, your mouth open, glossy red lips parted.

you let out a strangled moan in response, making him smile at you and kiss the tip of your nose. “i know it does, principessa. look at you, taking my cock so well, hm? like you were made for it.”

his words alone make a pressure appear deep inside your core, growing with every thrust of his cock and every word he speaks. “così bagnato per me, così facile scoparti (so wet for me, so easy to fuck you),” theo mumbles between grunts as his hips snap against yours.

the only sounds in his room are his whispers and the wet noises his cock makes when he pushes deep inside of your pussy. theo drives his cock slowly into you, making sure that he feels every single inch of your pussy around him, and that you feel his cock everywhere inside of you. and you do. the pressure inside you increases significantly as he finds an angle that makes his cockhead rub right up against that spot, making you moan out unintelligibly, your whole body shaking with intense pleasure.

“‘m so close theo, so so close,” you manage to mumble out quietly, pussy clenching around his cock as he maintains that angle and continues drilling into you.

your orgasm moves through your body in waves, leaving your legs shuddering around him, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. 

theo grunts as he pulls out and pushes back in slowly, a soft squelching sound as he buries himself in you, emptying his cum deep inside your pussy. he continues his pace, speeding up with each thrust, until you’re completely overstimulated, legs shaking, tears falling from your eyes, eyelids half-closed.

“c’mon bella one more. one more for me, yeah? i know you can take it, baby. that's right, cara mia,” theo mumbles into your ear as you let out a weak yelp, creaming around his cock for the third time that night.

he pulls out all the way, leaving on the tip of his cock teasing your entrance, before bottoming out inside of you with one rock of his hips, sheathing his whole length until his cockhead rubs up against your cervix. warm strings of his cum explode inside of you as you orgasm at the same time, eyes closed as your breathing hitches.

"sei così carina, tesoro (you’re so pretty, baby)," theo murmurs into your ear as he rocks his hips against you, making sure all his cum stays in, his voice barely above a whisper, "non ti meriti niente di male (i’m not letting anything bad happen to you)."

taglist ꕀ

© nottsluvv.tumblr 2025. do not copy, translate or claim any of my works as your own. reblogs + comments are greatly appreciated + motivating!

[nottscherry]

all i can think about is bsf!theo punching some guy for touching you because only he can touch you like that.

it was nothing but a gentle graze against your ass. nothing more, nothing less. just the tips of his fingers teasingly brushing against the curve of your ass. it was intentional for sure, but it wasn’t anything excessive. at least not for you. theo thought otherwise.

you honestly didn’t even see what happened. theo had somehow crossed the living room in record time, his fist connecting with the guy’s jaw with a wicked thwack. your eyes widened, your jaw dropping as you look at theo, straddling the guy, fistful of his collar. the others had gathered to watch the scene unfold, whispering amongst themselves.

theo’s voice boomed through the house, cursing in italian at the man, his face red hot with anger. “vaffanculo!” smack. the sound of theo shoving the guy’s head against the ground. you finally managed to catch him off guard, yanking him off with what strength you could. with him huffing and puffing, you turned him to face you, a stern look on your face. “excuse me, what the fuck was that?!”

theo shrugged, clearly not giving a fuck about this situation or what just happened. “only i get to touch you like that.” he replied simply, shrugging again, clearly not seeing the issue here. you let out a frustrated sigh, feeling like you were scolding a child, because of course he wasn’t understanding what he did wrong. he studied you for a moment, the way your chest heaved, your lips parted just enough for him to imagine sliding his cock in perfectly between them…

“theodore nott!” you scold him, eyes narrowing as you watch him finally snap to again, his eyes meeting yours. he smirks, a playful glint in his eyes as he leans in closer. “you’re so fucking sexy when you say my name like that.” he murmured, his breath warm against your face. your breathing hitching in your throat, but you tried hard to keep the stern look. staring at him for a moment, warring whether you should feel pissed off or insanely turned on. with a huff, you turned around, walking away from theo and out of the house the party was currently at.

“keep up that attitude and i might just have to fuck it out of you.” theo grinned, laughing when he hears you groan dramatically. he can’t help but watch your ass, the way your hips sway when you walk away, the way your hair bounces… his hand comes down to the painfully tight bulge in his jeans, trying to adjust it. this was gonna be a long night.

[surfingrealities]

It started with a drunken one night stand.

You and Theodore swore it was just that. You slept together because you both were absolutely hammered and didn't know better.

Your friends would've believed that explanation and went on with their days, if they didn't notice the way you two began disapearing into empty broom closets together at the random. If they didn't notice the bedroom eyes you two gave one another, the way you two began spending more and more time together.

The fact you two were hooking up was obvious. Like you weren't even trying to hide how obsessed you were with eachothers bodies.

Yet you two thought you were being secretive about it. You thought nobody knew.

The group was sick of you two sneaking around, wanted nothing more to catch the both of you in the act so you would have to admit to actively sleeping together.

So they did.

- - -

The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed throughout the dorm room. The green comforter of your bed pushed to the floor, sheets all jumbled up.

"F..Fuck!" You practically screamed, as Theodore thrusted particularly hard into you. Your back arching against him as your hands desperately gripped your sheets. Face stuffed into your pillow.

Theodore's hands gripped your ass, purposely trying to leave handprints. The idea of marking you always got him so worked up.

"Thats it.. Take my cock just like that, princess."

He growled out, grinding his hips into yours with every thrust.

The head of his cock kissed so perfectly against your g-spot it drove you mad. Everything was so fucking perfect. You felt that coil in your lower abdomen tighten.

"So close.. Mmm.. Oh! I'm so-.."

You tried to warn, causing him to rub one of his hands up and down your back to sooth you. Not once slowing his pace as he felt you tighten around him.

"I know, pretty.. Let go for me."

He mumbled, knowing just a few more thrusts would take you there.

The dorm room's door creaked open, causing Theodore's head to cock to the side and look over. His pace hesitated for a second, before he scoffed at the sight of your friends and focused on you again.

Noticing you hadn't heard the door, he picked his pace back up, one of his hands sneaking down to play with your clit.

He didn't care if your friends watched, infact, good for them. All he knew was the fact nothing was going to stop him from making his girl cum.

-

I really should stop writing at night. Tired drabble, just wanted to get the idea off my mind.

[winnie1emon]

✧.* what happens if you see your ex-boyfriend, theodore nott, at a halloween party?

ex!bf!theo x fawn!reader (fem pov)

word count: approx. 2.7k

cw: MDNI!!, smut, dom!theo, innocent!reader, piv, unprotected sex, creampie, tit sucking/fondling, oral sex (f receiving), praise, rekindling

a/n: last minute, sleep deprived, and not proof-read halloween treat ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

You stirred awake as you heard your dorm room's door click shut and saw a glimpse of your roommate's hair disappearing from view. She was undoubtedly headed to the infamous yearly Halloween party in the Room of Requirement.

You had previously declined her offer to go with her, deciding to spend most of your time moping over your ex-boyfriend, Theodore Nott.

Two weeks prior you had your heart broken when you called things off with him. Your peers had convinced you it was the right thing to do at the time as he never paid you any attention, seemingly avoiding you constantly for no good reason, sometimes days at a time. Although you initiated the separation, you wasted no time in mourning the early stages of your relationship; the moments where you would be alone with him, talking to him, kissing him, and the times you guys almost said you loved each other.

You fluffed up your pillows, preparing yourself to lay down and think of Theodore until you slept like you had been doing for the past week when you heard more shuffling outside your dorm room. It seemed like everybody would be attending the Halloween party.

Dreading the idea that he'd probably be wooing someone new, you sat back up and groaned, forcing yourself up onto your feet and into your bathroom. You stared back at yourself in the mirror; puffy-eyed and your nose tinged pink. You felt the sudden urge to go, feeling your time would be better spent seeing a few familiar faces and dancing out your blues.

You had a small problem though.

You vaguely recalled seeing the bustling students leave wearing costumes, but given the spontaneous nature of your new feelings, you had nothing to wear. You tentatively looked around your bathroom and then at your full dorm, hoping for a costume to spawn from thin air. Biting your lip, your eyes landed on a headband of fuzzy deer ears and short plush antlers.

Theodore had bought you the headband in Hogsmeade during your first date as a way to poke fun at your meek demeanor. You contemplated wearing the headband, allowing yourself a quick Halloween if you simply did the makeup. Against your better judgment, you put it on before propping yourself in front of your vanity to do the deer makeup you so saw often on your Pinterest feed. Luckily, your closet consisted of many warm browns with white accents, granting you the ability to not have to freak over finding matching clothing.

You took a final breath before walking out the door, headed towards an evening of branching out.

--------------------------------------------------------

Theodore's gaze lingered around the room, his face stoic, as he seemingly tried to look for someone.

"Someone missing his girl?" Draco teased, pinching his cheek.

Shoving him lightly with his shoulder, Theodore turned his face towards his pestering friend. "Don't smudge m'fucking makeup." He groaned inwardly as he saw no sign of you after his eyes finished their fourth round around the room. "I'm not looking for anyone either. Don't got a girl."

"Ohh yeah, we forgot," Lorenzo snorted beside him. Theodore seemed unamused, brushing past him and bumping his shoulder on the way.

"Seems angry," Blaise said, stifling a laugh.

"Would be too if I lost what he did," Draco shrugged.

Theodore Nott stalked around the perimeter of the large crowd, avoiding the large wings and costumes present. He took a swig out of his red solo cup, about to give up before seeing you walk in.

Seeing your face illuminated in the party's dim lighting, his lips parted slightly, soaking in the way you looked so graceful when entering, yet so lost.

Your headband piqued his interest. His brows furrowing, he tilted his head slightly to get a better view. Definitely his.

You walked around the room, the heel of your shoes clicking. You caught a glimpse of someone with their face completely obscured by their skeleton makeup, but there was no mistaking those eyes.

No way were you going to purposefully talk to him, the sting of your breakup still apparent. You headed towards the drinks, acting as if you were in your element when truth be told, you didn't care for drinking. You stood awkwardly at the table, looking for your friends to no avail.

You saw him striding towards you in the corner of your eyes and quickly scattered to an area with a larger crowd. Planning to circle back to the drinks table to throw him off, you weaved through the people, getting small peeks at different costumes; an American cowboy, a devil, and a very strange furry octopus.

You grabbed a red cup from the table, bringing the emptiness to your lips to fake a sip, your eyes scanning the room intensely, relieved that you lost him.

Your heart was beating faster than usual, a small bead of sweat forming on your forehead. You adjusted the headband to not fall off and straightened your top.

Coming was a mistake. The dark lighting made it difficult for you to locate your friends, Theodore was looking as handsome normal as ever, and the room seemed to shrink with each step you took.

A bit jumpy from nervousness, you started to fill a cup of oddly green punch before feeling a large hand clamp down on your wrist. Flinching, you immediately looked at the one responsible and met their piercing blue eyes.

"Avoiding me?" he said.

The way he said it like he didn't really care, only bothering to use two words like you both hadn't been pretending not to stare at each other for two weeks made you uneasy.

Pulling your hand away, you swallowed before answering. "No."

Your voice made him smile, his face clearly finding humor in your denial.

God, he looked so handsome with the skull makeup.

He placed his hands on both of your shoulders, pulling slightly away from you to get a better view of your face. "I missed you. Did you miss me?"

Unconvinced by him, you looked at him suspiciously, your body taut. "No," you said again. Frowning slightly, he dropped his hands to his side and said,

"I'm serious. I really did."

Your face started to heat up and you bit the inside of your cheeks to contain yourself. You knew that if you didn't restrain yourself, you would immediately jump up into his arms and embrace him like old times.

"Okay," you said quietly. "That's cool." You tried to sound casual, pretending like you didn't notice his gaze flickering to your deer ears and antlers.

"I like the uh, the makeup," he complimented you, gesturing towards his own face.

"Same to you. Skull-- very nice." You nodded slowly, unsure of the conversation's direction.

"Thanks. That mine?" he asked you, pointing at your headband.

Turning pink, you gave a small chuckle. "Uh yeah, just you know--" you said dismissively. "No costume..."

"Ah, I see I see. So, you here with someone?"

"No, no I'm not." You felt a bit surprised by his question, it seemed somewhat bold in a way. You both stood around some more, staring at each other and then looking away only to subtly shift your arms together.

"Alright well, I'm gonna ask you again," he suddenly spoke up. "Did you miss me?"

You didn't want to answer him truthfully, yet you didn't want to just lie to him.

"I did."

It seemed as though those two words were all he needed to hear to do what he did next. Immediately moving his hands to your face, he leaned into a kiss, wasting no time in slipping his tongue into your mouth. It was far more different than the kisses you guys shared before, this time it felt like your mouths were on fire and the other person's was water; the only way to extinguish it. Your hands were still at your side, allowing him to do most of the work.

Pulling away, you swallowed thickly, trying to process what had just happened. He gave a small, amused huff before dropping his head down to face the ground as you stood there dazed.

"I don't think we should..." you started, trying to find the words. "Like just not here right...?"

Theodore looked at the lively party and nodded as he looked back at you. "You're right. Let's find someplace else."

He grabbed your hand lightly, walking you out the door, and leaving the party. You weren't sure why, but you let him, trailing behind him, trying to keep your steps light in the corridors.

"Come on, there's this classroom-- always unlocked," he smiled at you. "Bit far though," he added. You didn't mind. The anticipation and excitement of getting back with Theodore fogged your mind, shooting out every other piece of information that ever resided in your brain.

He brought you to the stairs and you started to descend, but your heels echoed loudly. "Careful, it's past curfew," he said, bringing a finger to his mouth.

"Sorry, sorry!" you whispered. "I can't it's my shoes."

Theodore stopped mid-step and so did you. His head darted around in all directions looking to see if someone was approaching. "Up you go," he said. Before you could possibly protest, he picked you up off the ground, allowing you to wrap your legs around his torso. He placed one of his hands around your back to support you, the other on your ass.

Despite the extra weight, he seemed to have no problem walking at his normal speed, quickly going down the many flights of stairs until you both reached the ground floor. He opened the door to a classroom, shutting it behind you guys before placing you to sit on the teacher's desk in the front of the room. You observed the classroom, your mouth slowly growing wider.

"Theo-- this is McGonagall's room! She's going to fucking kill us!"

He shook his head to reassure you. "She's not going to find out, don't worry."

You looked uncertain and he said nothing, trying to give you some time to believe him.

"Theo?" you piped up.

"Mm?" he answered, leaning on his hand placed on the table you sat on.

"Why did we break up?" you asked him.

He had a smirk on his face, but you could tell he felt as bad as you did. "What do you mean? You broke up with me."

"No I mean, why did we break up? Why did you start acting like that?" You drew invisible circles on the desk, adverting eye contact.

"I was an idiot," he scoffed. "I just- I just got scared. Always felt bad you were too good for me," he said, starting to get agitated with himself. "You're so sweet you know. I'm," he shrugged. He cupped your face with his hands, making you look at him.

"Didn't wanna drag you down with me."

You opened your mouth again to argue, but he brought his finger to your lips before leaning back in for another kiss. You felt his hands all over your body and you brought yours to his jawline. The kisses started soft, clean. But they became sloppy as he went down to kiss your neck.

"I'll be different now," he breathed out. "I promise."

His kisses grew more intense and you couldn't help but let out low whimpers as he reached the top of your chest. He took your shirt off, taking a step back to admire the view of you in your lacy white bra. He unclasped your bra, hanging it on the handle of McGonagall's closet next to her desk.

Never having gotten this far in your previous relationship, he gave a low gasp, cupping one of your tits in his large hands. Fondling you lightly, he then pinched a nipple between his fingers, suppressing his laughter as he watched you squirm on the desk. He bent over slightly taking the other nipple in his mouth.

Having his hand on your tit, combined with him gently sucking the other, you gave out quiet moans, clawing at the edge of McGonagall's desk. Pulling his head away, a string of saliva still connecting his lips to your nipple, he stood back up, bringing his hands to your waist.

He pulled your skirt down your thighs, letting it fall to your ankles. He kneeled down on the ground, shuffling closer to you.

The sight of his face between your legs, his face with the skeleton makeup on, practically had you shaking in excitement. He kept his eyes on you the whole time; as he moved the underwear sticking to your wet cunt aside, lightly trailed a finger over your wet folds, and as he moved his head closer, slipping his hot tongue into you.

"Mmm, T-theo..." you whined as he brought his tongue deeper inside of you. He flicked his tongue around, exploring freely, the sounds coming out sounding far more erotic than what you were used to.

His tongue slipped out of your cunt, and he used it to circle around your clit, eliciting shaky moans from your mouth as you bought your hands to his hair. Your eyes began to water and you felt your orgasm nearing. About to crush his skull with the way you wanted to squeeze your thighs together, your legs shook against the sides of his head.

Theodore placed his hands on your knees, spreading your legs further apart, continuing to travel around your folds with his tongue with increased speed. Before you could orgasm, he pulled away suddenly, making you whine loudly in surprise.

"Theodore..." you said, tugging on his hair. He stood up and began to unbuckle his belt, slipping his pants off.

"Be patient sweetheart," he smiled. His boxers fell down his legs next, his glistening cock springing out. You placed your hands behind your back on the desk to support yourself as you stayed seated and he guided the tip of his cock with your entrance.

You felt a bit afraid, this being your first time having sex with Theodore, and it seemed like he could tell because he tilted your chin up softly and said, "I'll go slow okay?"

You nodded sheepishly, letting him push into you slowly. A tear rolled down your face, some of your deer makeup coming off. He let out a guttural moan as he inserted his large cock fully into your cunt, beginning to move slowly in and out of you.

"F-fuck," you whispered. He found your reaction cute when you looked wide-eyed at him, face contorting with pleasure.

"Got it?" he asked you. You nodded quickly, giving him the message that you were okay. "Yeah, yeah... you can take it," he whispered in your ear.

He went at a moderate pace, not wanting to overexert you for your first time.

"Theo-- Theo!" you huffed out. He stopped, backing away so that only the head of his cock was still in your sopping cunt.

"Yeah, what's up? Are you okay?" he said in concern.

"Faster..." you requested meekly. "Please?"

Surprised but not complaining, he gave a lowly chuckle, practically grinning from ear to ear.

"If that's what my good girl wants."

He increased his pace, thrusting into you quickly. Your soaking folds allowed him back in every time he pulled out. He took your tits into his hands again, twisting and pinching as he simultaneously pumped in and out of you.

Both of your moans filled the room; his low and paced, yours messy and uncontrolled.

You neared an orgasm again and you could tell he was about to come as his hair became mussed and a light layer of sweat glistened on him.

"Shit... Do you want me to come inside? Is that what you want?"

"Y-yes!" you answered desperately. Your legs shook and you threw your head back as your orgasm washed over you, his following suit right after.

His ropes of release filled your insides, beginning to seep out. He pulled out, looking at the mess he made you. He readjusted the headband on you.

"I love you."

You looked at him, mouth somewhat agape before uttering, "I love you too."

He grabbed your head, planting a kiss on your forehead before helping you off the desk and onto your feet. You looked at him hesitantly.

"Does this mean I'm your girl again?"

"Well..." he feigned uncertainty, giving you a gallic shrug.

"Don't tease..." you complained, leaning into him.

"Sorry, y'know I can't help it," he grinned. "And you never stopped being my girl."

―――――――――ʚ♡ɞ―――――――――

[nottsangel]

love island!theo desperately craved some privacy with you, which was nearly impossible with the cameras rolling at all times. that’s why he decided to drag you out of the villa in the middle of the night for some alone time in the pool.

“so… why couldn’t you just fuck me in the bed?” you giggle, your arms wrapped around his neck and your legs secured around his waist as he holds you up against the pool’s edge. his fingers eagerly tug at your bikini strings underwater, and you can tell he’s growing impatient, his hard erection firmly pressed against your throbbing cunt.

“because there’s no night vision in these cameras here.” he explains in a low tone, a sly smirk tugging at his lips as subtly nods at the cameras pointed right at you. curiously, you glance around, suddenly hyper-aware of them, but you trust him—and quickly forget about the cameras as desire fully consumes you.

you feel his hand creeping towards your dripping core, fingers tantalisingly teasing you over the fabric of your bikini bottoms, drawing a soft, needy whimper from your parted lips as your brows furrow. his other hand possessively squeezes your ass, enjoying how you respond to his touch as he gazes down at you with an amused, cocky expression on his face, knowing exactly how to turn you into putty in his arms.

“don’t want anyone seeing you when i fuck you— not even the other islanders.” he adds, his thumb now gently rubbing circles on your swollen clit, the ache between your legs only growing stronger. the hunger and desire are evident in theo’s stunning blue eyes, illuminated by the moonlight as they linger on your lips, his head slightly tilted.

“possessive much, huh?” you tease, eyeing him with that seductive gaze he can’t ever resist. this side of him—raw, possessive, dominant—turns you on more than you’d like to admit, your breathing becoming rapid and uneven and your hips eagerly grinding against him, earning a low, needy groan from him.

“mhm, ‘course i am. don’t want anyone hearing those pretty moans.” he growls against your neck, trailing wet, open-mouthed kisses along your jawline as his hand dips inside your bikini bottoms, a soft moan escaping you. his digits tease your soaked entrance, your cunt fluttering around emptiness as your arousal builds with each second, desperate to feel him deep inside you.

“and that face you make when you cum?” he whispers right into your ear, his hot breath against your skin sending a shiver down your spine. “that’s for me and me only.” your manicured nails press into the skin of his shoulders in desperation and yearning, your body silently pleading for more— signaling that you need him. now.

“theo… please—”

“so needy, hm? i got you, baby. i’ll fuck you so good, you won’t even think about coupling up with another man after i’m done with you. you’re my girl and i’ll make sure to keep it that way.”

ੈ♡˳

[nottslove]

Hello! My favorite song at the moment is bed chem sabrina carpenter

event; profile; nav;

4.6k words. longer than i expected. istg i should call these long-ass fics instead of mini-fics.

hi anon! thank you so much for requesting!! so since this song came from a summer album, it gave me summer vibes... as in, a summer romance vibe. and who better to fill in the role than our favorite, italian reverie? presenting.... none other than theo nott!

warnings: google translated italian, fluff, angst, use of y/n.

song: bed chem, sabrina carpenter slytherin boy: theo nott

Italy in the summer was nothing short of magical. Ever since childhood, you had dreamt of wandering its sun-drenched streets, breathing in the scent of fresh espresso and warm pastries, getting lost in the hum of its language. Finally, after years of waiting—graduation behind you, a job secured—you seized the moment. Three months of careful planning had led to this: a solo summer in your dream country.

From the instant you arrived, Italy wove its spell around you. The rich culture, the lyrical cadence of the language, the way history seemed to press against the very walls of the cities—it all made your heart swell. Rome for the first week, Venice for the second, Verona for the third, before returning home to England. A carefully mapped-out itinerary, structured yet bursting with anticipation. And yet, only two days in, the thought of leaving already felt unbearable.

Your schedule was packed, each day a whirlwind of exploration. Today, you were on a mission—to find the restaurant your coworker had raved about. But somehow, amidst the maze-like streets, you lost your way. A wrong turn led you somewhere unexpected—quieter, tucked away from the usual tourist bustle. The air here felt different, carrying the aroma of fresh bread and roasted coffee.

That was when you saw it.

A small, unassuming café nestled into the corner of a street you hadn’t intended to walk down. At first, you nearly passed it by, lost in thought, until your hip accidentally brushed against a potted plant perched on an outdoor table. As you bent down to set it upright, your gaze traveled to the building—soft yellow paint, ivy cascading like a green waterfall over the doorway, curling around the windows as if cradling the café in a warm embrace.

Through the glass, maritozzo sat temptingly on display, golden and pillowy, just waiting to be devoured. Your stomach made the decision for you—you stepped inside without another thought.

The café had a charm that was impossible to ignore. Dim lighting, shelves stacked with books worn from time, the quiet murmur of conversation blending into the clinking of porcelain. You spotted the perfect table by the window and moved toward it, but something stopped you. A pull, inexplicable yet undeniable, tugging you gently in another direction.

You turned.

There he was.

A classic Italian gentleman, effortlessly poised, his fingers curled around a porcelain mug. Dark curls framed his chiseled features, his presence magnetic, as if he had been waiting for someone—perhaps, for you.

He sat there with an effortless grace, the kind that spoke of quiet confidence rather than arrogance. His strong jawline framed a face that seemed sculpted by the hands of an artist—sharp cheekbones softened only by the warm olive tone of his skin. His deep brown eyes, rich like freshly brewed espresso, carried an intensity that made it impossible to look away. They held stories, secrets, a depth that hinted at a life well-lived, or perhaps, one waiting to begin.

The soft curls of his dark hair, slightly tousled yet undeniably charming, brushed against his forehead, the kind you could easily imagine running your fingers through absentmindedly. His neatly pressed shirt, a shade of crisp white that contrasted beautifully against his sun-kissed skin, was unbuttoned just enough at the collar to suggest a sense of ease. The sleeves were rolled to his forearms, revealing toned muscles beneath, a glimpse of strength tempered by elegance.

As he lifted his coffee to his lips, the movement was deliberate, languid, as if savoring not just the drink but the moment itself. His fingers—long, graceful—curled around the porcelain mug, and you couldn't help but wonder how they might feel tracing against yours.

There was something about him—an air of mystery, a quiet magnetism—that pulled you in. A presence that demanded attention without asking for it. And in that instant, as the world outside continued to bustle on, he was the only thing that mattered.

His eyes locked onto yours, unflinching, electric—a mesmerizing shade of aquamarine that seemed almost unreal, like the sunlit waters of the Amalfi Coast. They held something—an unspoken challenge, curiosity, or perhaps recognition. A glint of amusement flickered beneath the depths, but there was something else too, something that sent a shiver down your spine. It was as if, in that single moment, he had unraveled you entirely—seen you in a way no one else had.

The way they caught the light, reflecting hints of seafoam and cerulean, made them impossibly captivating, as if they carried fragments of Italy itself. And just like that, without a single word, you knew—this summer, your summer, had shifted in a way you never anticipated.

Just like that, your summer had changed.

It didn't take long before you were at his apartment, tangled up in his sheets, bodies pressed close, the world outside forgotten, him feeding you strawberries with your head on his chest.

Your head rested against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat lulling you into quiet contentment. He reached for a strawberry, holding it delicately between his fingers before pressing it gently to your lips. The sweetness burst against your tongue, mingling with the lingering taste of his kiss, and somehow, it all felt so natural.

It was intimate in a way you had never experienced before. Here you were, in the arms of a total stranger, yet somehow, you felt safer than you ever had in a long time. It had barely been two hours since you met, and he already knew so much—the tender details of your childhood, the wistful echoes of your first love.

You exhaled, staring at the soft rays of the golden setting sun filtering through the window. Was it him, or was it simply Italy itself—the spell this country seemed to weave around everything and everyone? Were all Italian men this effortlessly charming, this easy to talk to, to surrender yourself to?

"Come mai la tua bella testolina è così silenziosa, hmm?" he murmured, large hands sliding down your hair and brushing it away from your face.

You giggled, reaching for another strawberry and placing it between his lips. "I already told you I don't understand a word of Italian..."

"I've heard I'm a very good teacher," he replied with that confident, lazy smirk of his. "I could show you Italy better than any..." he paused, furrowing his brows slightly to think of the word. "guida turistica..."

Once again, you giggled softly, the moment he pressed his lips to your fingers to lick up whatever was left of the strawberry his mouth had just stolen from you. "tour guide?" you asked, trying to provide him with the correct word.

"Si. Tour guide. I can be yours, if you like..." He punctuated his suggestion with a series of open mouthed kisses along your neck and collarbones.

And just like that, all plans of going to Verona and Venice were out the window, and you rescheduled your return trip to a whole month later than your original return date.

His name was Theodore Nott, but you called him Teddy for short.

He had somehow managed you to move into his penthouse, where you spent every morning waking up in his bed, and the scent of freshly brewed espresso all over the penthouse.

Every morning, without fail, he insisted on spoiling you. Before the sun had fully risen over the terracotta rooftops, before the city outside had begun to stir, he was already at work in the kitchen, crafting something new—something special—for you.

The aroma would reach you first, warm and inviting, coaxing you from sleep before his voice did. And then, there he was, standing at the edge of the bed, tray in hand, a knowing smile playing at his lips. He never let you lift a finger.

It was never the same meal twice. One morning, perfectly flaky cornetti dusted with powdered sugar, paired with rich, velvety cappuccino. The next, eggs cooked just right, fresh tomatoes bursting with flavor, crusty bread straight from the bakery down the street. Then, perhaps, a delicate frittata, infused with fragrant herbs, the kind only someone born into the heart of Italian cooking could master.

He knew what he was doing. Better than half the chefs you had encountered. Every bite was a revelation, every flavor precise yet effortless, as if he were drawing from an endless well of knowledge passed down through generations.

And there, in the quiet glow of morning light, the two of you would share more than just the meal. Between sips of coffee and bites of something impossibly delicious, the conversations flowed—deep, unfiltered, woven with laughter and confessions.

It was indulgent, intimate in a way that felt rare, precious. You had never been cared for like this before, never been seen in such a quiet, effortless way.

And each morning, as he looked at you over the rim of his cup, you wondered how you could possibly go back to a life without this. Without him.

But both of you knew that this golden relationship you had wasn't meant to last. It would be over once the summer came to an end. It was nothing but a summer romance, no matter how real it felt.

Yet, despite knowing, neither of you spoke of it. The truth lingered between kisses, between laughter that melted into quiet sighs, between mornings wrapped in sheets that smelled of sun and him. It was there—in the way his touch lingered a moment too long, as if memorizing the feel of you. In the way you watched him, tracing every detail, as if trying to capture something fleeting, something slipping through your fingers.

It wasn’t just a romance. It felt bigger than that. Real, golden, drenched in the warmth of a summer that would soon end. But endings had a way of creeping in, of pressing against even the sweetest moments. The whispered promise of farewell was in every embrace, every shared meal, every sunset you watched together with unsaid words weighing in the silence.

And yet, despite it all, neither of you pulled away. Because for now—just for now—it was enough. It had to be.

He was true to his word. He showed you Italy better than any tour guide would. All the intimate places he spent his time at, all the tourist spots... everything.

And he did it with a kind of quiet pride, as if sharing these places with you meant something—meant more than just sightseeing. He led you through the winding alleys of Rome, past the bustling piazzas and into corners untouched by the hurried footsteps of tourists. The hidden cafés where the locals greeted him by name, the bookstore tucked away in a side street where he had spent lazy afternoons, the unmarked trattoria where the food was better than anything you’d find on a guide’s list.

But he didn’t ignore the classics. He took you to the Colosseum when the sun was soft, when the crowds hadn’t fully formed, so you could stand there in the open space and feel the weight of history pressing against your skin. He pointed out the details in Michelangelo’s work, things that even the guides didn’t mention. He let you linger at the Trevi Fountain, grinning when you tossed a coin in and made a wish, teasing you about what it might be.

"What did you wish for, cara?"

"Would you like to know?" you replied with an air of mystery and a suggestive raise of your eyebrow.

Venice came next, the city that felt suspended between reality and dream. He showed you how the water reflected the light just right in the early evening, how the gondoliers sang not for show, but because music was woven into the city’s bones.

And in Verona, he traced his fingers along the worn letters left at Juliet’s wall, smiling as you read them, as you let yourself believe—for just a moment—that love like that could live beyond legend.

He gave you Italy. Not the packaged version, not the curated one. He gave you the one he loved, the one that had shaped him, the one that mattered.

And in doing so, it became yours too.

He showed you Italy, and you showed him your soul.

He had given you Italy—the real Italy, the one written in hidden alleyways and the scent of fresh espresso, in the history etched into crumbling stone and the rhythm of a language that felt like poetry.

And in return, without meaning to, without even realizing it at first, you had given him pieces of yourself. The quiet corners of your heart, the stories tucked away for only the most deserving ears. The fears, the dreams, the moments that had shaped you. He saw them all—held them gently, as if they were something precious.

And somehow, he remembered all of it.

The way your fingers moved when tying your laces—quick, practiced, a subconscious rhythm you never thought twice about. The way you stirred your coffee absentmindedly, always three times, never more, never less. How your nose scrunched up ever so slightly before a sip, testing the temperature without thinking.

Then, of course, there was the pineapple on pizza—your unforgivable offense. He had gasped dramatically when you first admitted it, clutching his heart as if wounded by the mere thought.

"Mio Dio!" he had gasped, when he had first seen you put pineapple slices on your slice of the pizza he had spent four hours making for you at home, from scratch. "Stai rovinando tutto! This is a betrayal..." he declared, eyes alight with playful scandal, yet he still took your hand that evening, still kissed you like you belonged to every part of Italy.

And perhaps that was what struck you most—how easily he collected these pieces of you, storing them as if they were something worth keeping, worth cherishing.

It was fleeting, ephemeral, destined to fade when summer did.

But for now, he knew you, and you knew him.

It was unexpected—the way he let you in, the way he unraveled parts of himself that felt sacred, deeply personal.

He showed you the school where he had spent his earliest years, where he had first learned to chase dreams too big for a boy his age. He traced his fingers along the worn stone walls, the graffiti scrawled by restless students, and laughed as he recounted the trouble he used to get into, the teachers who never quite knew what to do with him.

Then, there was his childhood home—a modest place tucked away in a quiet neighborhood, walls filled with echoes of the past. He told you about summers spent on that tiny balcony, about the way his father used to hum old songs while cooking dinner, about the arguments, the celebrations, the life that had unfolded within those walls.

But it was when he brought you to her grave that everything shifted. His mother—the woman who had shaped him, guided him, loved him deeply, and left too soon. He didn’t speak much at first, just stood there, quiet, thoughtful, fingers brushing the cool stone. Then, slowly, he told you about her—the warmth of her presence, the lessons she had given him, the ache of losing her.

And in between, you lived with him—fully, unapologetically, as if time had no claim on the moments you shared.

You laughed until your stomach ached, until your cheeks hurt from smiling, until your laughter tangled with his and filled the spaces between you like music. You cried in ways you hadn’t before—not from sorrow, but from honesty, from the weight of stories told that had never been voiced so openly.

Together, you existed in a space untouched by reality, wrapped in something golden and fleeting. Neither of you spoke of the end, but it lingered, always, just beneath the surface.

Yet, somehow, that made it all the more beautiful.

And you loved him.

You loved him like you had never loved anyone else in your entire life. And he knew it.

Tangled up in the sheets after yet another round of him completely rocking your world, your head was resting on his chest when you tilted your head to look into his eyes and whisper the two little words that you had learnt on Google just for him.

"Ti amo..."

His grin stretched wide, unmistakable, almost wicked in its delight—the kind that sent a thrill down your spine, that made you wonder what thoughts ran through his mind in that exact moment. It was the kind of smile that could pull you in effortlessly, like a secret he was daring you to uncover, like he had already won a game you didn’t know you were playing.

The corners of his mouth curled with satisfaction, his eyes gleaming with mischief, amusement flickering beneath the striking aquamarine depths. He leaned forward slightly, as if savoring the way the words hung in the air between you, his fingers tracing absent patterns against the table, his body relaxed, utterly at ease.

Without hesitating, he said it back, "anch'io ti amo, tesoro."

But all good things eventually come to an end, and within the blink of an eye, your summer had come to a close.

You had gotten to know his soul in depth— every inch of him, every quirk, every flutter, every mark on his body. It was a lifetime of love experienced in one single summer.

A love that burned brightly, condensed into fleeting moments, yet carrying the weight of something much greater.

You knew him. Not just his laughter or his charm, but the quiet pauses between his sentences, the way his fingers twitched when he was deep in thought, the crease in his brow that only appeared when he spoke of things that truly mattered. You memorized the rhythm of his breathing, the softness of his voice just before sleep, the way his presence wrapped around you like warmth you never wanted to let go of.

Every mark on his body told a story, every scar a memory, every glance a secret shared only between the two of you. And in the golden stretch of those summer days, you traced them all, learning him in ways that felt impossibly permanent.

A lifetime of love, packed into stolen kisses beneath a foreign sky, into whispered conversations at dawn, into the soft pull of fingertips against skin.

And yet, when the season came to its inevitable close, when the sun dipped lower, signaling the end, you both knew—this was exactly how it was meant to be.

No regrets. No bitterness. Just a summer that would live in your bones forever.

And when the time came, when the final days of summer settled upon you both like the last golden rays of the evening sun, there was no bitterness. No desperate clinging, no sorrowful goodbyes laced with regret.

You had known him completely—every detail, every quirk, every unspoken thought behind those aquamarine eyes. And he had known you just the same. There was nothing left unexplored, no corner of his world, or yours, left untouched.

Yet, this was how it had always meant to end. Not in heartbreak, but in understanding. A gentle farewell, filled with gratitude for what it had been, rather than grief for what it could not be.

Right person. Wrong time. Right place.

You stopped at the café where it all began one more time before he dropped you off at the airport.

It had been almost two months ago that you met him here, but now?

It felt like a lifetime ago.

And so, beneath the amber glow of the setting sun, with Italy wrapping itself around you like a final embrace, you made a promise.

Not one bound by desperation or longing, but by understanding. By the quiet certainty that, though your story was meant to end now, perhaps—just perhaps—it wasn’t meant to end forever.

"If you’re still single," you murmured, fingers tracing the rim of your coffee cup, voice steady but soft, "meet me here. Ten years from now. Same place, same table."

He studied you for a long moment, aquamarine eyes deep with something unreadable—something like hope, something like fate. Then, slowly, he smiled. A real one. A promise sealed with nothing but the weight of the unspoken.

"Ten years," he whispered softly, but you knew him well enough to know what he was saying. "If you find yourself lost, or lonely," he continued softly, looking at you longingly, like he wanted to tell you to stay, but he knew he would be asking too much. "Will you come find me?"

He looked like he was losing a part of himself that he had never realized was missing until he met you.

Your lips curved into a watery smile. "Of course I will..." you replied, your fingers gently brushing his jaw, the way you had done countless of times. "I'll always find you, Teddy..."

And just like that, leaving him was easier, leaving Italy was easier, carrying the summer in your bones, the memory of him pressed into every part of you.

Maybe you’d return. Maybe he would. Maybe, just maybe, the right person at the wrong time would, one day, become the right person at the right time.

He was your soulmate. You never believed in them before, but you certainly believed in them now.

With your pact in mind, of a futuristic promise, you had finally agreed to part ways.

And just like that, it was over.

No tears, no grand gestures—just a quiet understanding, a moment suspended in time, wrapped in the golden haze of a summer that had changed you both.

He had dropped you to the airport, and your heart felt heavy and full as you parted ways.

One last goodbye kiss.

One last fleeting touch.

One last look of his beautiful aquamarine eyes meeting yours.

And then, you turned your back on him and began to walk away.

"Wait," he had called right before you fell out of earshot.

You turned, pressing your lips together to stop yourself from making this farewell harder for you than it was supposed to be.

A moment of silence.

And then he spoke.

"Goodbye, Y/N," he murmured.

"Goodbye Teddy."

It was only when you had turned around fully and passed through the security gates that you allowed the tears to finally spill.

But you held hope in your heart.

You walked away, carrying the weight of what had been, the tenderness of shared mornings, the electricity of stolen glances, the laughter, the knowing, the love—brief but undeniable.

Yet there was no sadness in the goodbye. Because, in the heart of Rome, beneath the watchful gaze of history itself, you had made a promise.

Ten years. Same place. Same table.

And whether fate would honor such a pact, whether time would lead you back to him, was a mystery left to the future.

But for now, you carried him with you, and he carried you with him.

And maybe—just maybe—Italy would call you home once more.

Ten years passed faster than you anticipated. The years slipped through your fingers like sand, faster than you ever imagined.

Lovers came, and lovers went. Life unfolded—new places, new faces, fleeting romances that never quite ignited the way that summer had.

Theo was embedded into your soul. He was there in every, single thing you did. Your summer in Italy was no longer a distant memory, but a whole different lifetime, one that was etched so fiercely into your soul that it was a part of you. You lived, you loved, you lost, and yet, through it all, Theo remained.

Not in a way that haunted you, not in a way that stopped you from moving forward. No, he was simply there—woven into the fabric of your existence, stitched into the smallest, quietest moments.

It was in the smallest things—the subconscious gestures, the habits formed over a lifetime. In the way you lingered at cafés with ivy-clad doors, in the way you stirred your coffee three times, in the soft ache that settled in your chest when the golden glow of evening light reminded you of the way his skin had looked beneath the setting Italian sun.

Your summer with him wasn’t just a memory—it was a lifetime, a part of you, embedded so deeply that no amount of time could erase it. It had shaped you, changed you, taught you things no other experience ever could.

Because that summer lived within you, etched into your very being, woven into the quiet moments of your day.

It was there in the way your lips curled into a soft, private smile whenever a passing scent reminded you of fresh espresso in a hidden café. In the way your fingers brushed against ivy-covered doors, lingering as if searching for something lost. In the way your heart skipped—just barely—when the evening light mirrored the golden glow of those long-forgotten afternoons.

It wasn’t just a memorable summer vacation. It was a presence, a whisper of something untouchable yet undeniably real.

And whether the promise would be fulfilled or left behind in the folds of time, one truth remained—Italy had never truly let you go.

And neither had he.

And now, here you were. Ten years later.

Standing in front of the café where it had all begun.

Heart pounding. Breath shallow.

Wondering if fate still had a place for the two of you.

The café still looks the same. The ivy overgrown a little more, the paint a little more faded and worn and the steps that lead to the café a lot more rough and round-edged.

You stepped inside, your breath shaky as you tuck your handbag underneath your arm, tilting your head back to shake the hair all away from your face.

Your heart in thumping, your fingers are sweaty as you look around once, a quick scan of your eyes across the room.

And everything stops.

Your breath catches.

Just like that, time collapses.

Ten years, a lifetime’s worth of moments, all fading into insignificance the instant your gaze locks onto his.

He’s there. Exactly where he said he would be.

The same table, the same quiet confidence, the same presence that had once unraveled you completely. But different too—aged by experience, refined by the years that shaped him in your absence.

It's his eyes that give it away— that he's the same person as he was a lifetime ago, the same person you fell so hard for.

His eyes—impossibly vivid, the color of sunlit tides and forgotten dreams—burn into yours, a tether pulling you back, back to a time when love was effortless and fleeting, yet somehow eternal.

Yet, as his aquamarine eyes meet yours, as recognition flashes across his face, as his lips part ever so slightly in stunned disbelief—none of that matters.

"Teddy," you whisper breathlessly, your eyes meeting his, the rest of the occupants of the café fading into a blur— nothing else matters as much as him.

It takes two strides for him to reach you.

"Y/N," he pulls you into his arms, and your lips crash against his, tears spilling down your cheeks as you hear the golden sound of his voice calling out your name.

And you're finally home.

Because this was never truly a goodbye.

And somehow, somehow, it feels like the beginning all over again.

event; profile; nav;

©nottslove 2025. do not copy, steal or claim any works/graphics as your own.

[ahqkas]

Theodore who wakes up to the lack warmth in the bed from gf!reader, he’s confused on where she is but sees a light in the bathroom. As he opens the bathroom door, he figures out that his gf actually has curly hair and she was just straightening her hair. He’s now intrigued and shock at this little secret his girlfriend’s been hiding from him

BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE BEAUTIFUL PROBLEMS ; theodore nott

HARRY POTTER MASTERLIST!

© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified

THEODORE NOTT STIRRED AWAKE, IMMEDIATELY NOTICING THE ABSENCE OF YOUR WARMTH BESIDE HIM. The soft morning light peeked through the curtains, casting a gentle glow across the dormitory. Confusion prickled at the edges of his sleepy mind as he reached out, only to find the bed empty.

Sitting up, he rubbed his eyes and scanned the room. A faint light seeped from under the bathroom door, accompanied by the soft hum of your voice. Curiosity piqued, Theo swung his legs over the side of the bed and padded quietly across the room.

As he approached the door, he heard the unmistakable sound of a hair straightener and your humming. Puzzled, he gently pushed the door open and peeked inside. There you were, standing in front of the mirror, your expression focused as you ran the straightener through your hair.

It took Theo a moment to realize what he was seeing. Instead of the sleek, straight hair he was accustomed to, he saw the natural, curly texture of your hair peeking through as you worked on the next section. His eyes widened in surprise and intrigue. This was a side of you he had never seen before, a secret you had kept hidden until now.

For a moment, he simply watched you, captivated by the sight. The curls framed your face in a way that was both endearing and beautiful, giving you a softer, more natural look. It was a revelation, this glimpse into your morning routine, and it made him fall in love with you all over again.

You glanced up, catching his reflection in the mirror. Your eyes widened in surprise, a hint of embarrassment coloring your cheeks. Before you could say anything, Theo stepped into the room, a warm, affectionate smile spreading across his face.

"You look beautiful," he said softly, his voice filled with genuine admiration. He reached out, gently touching a curl that had yet to be straightened. "Why didn't you tell me about this?"

You looked down, a shy smile playing on your lips. "I didn't think it mattered," you replied, the tone of your voice barely above a whisper.

Theo shook his head, his hand moving to cup your cheek. "Everything about you matters to me," he said, his tone earnest. "I love seeing all the different sides of you."

Your eyes met his, the initial embarrassment fading into something warmer, more intimate. You put the straightener down and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him into a tender embrace.

In that quiet, early morning moment, surrounded by the soft hum of the straightener and the gentle light of the bathroom, Theo felt his love for you deepen even more. You were his everything, with all your little secrets and quirks, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

[nottsamor]

crawling back to you / theo nott

summary : theo knew you'd come crawling back to him, and it was apparent by the way he had you in his bed, a room away from your boyfriend.

a/n : does like.. anyone wanna be friends.

"what's wrong? you were begging for this two months ago," theo said, feigning innocence as he pounded into your roughly, hands gripping onto your hips. tears ran down your cheeks, mascara streaming down your face. "i h—hate you.." you sniffled, but both of you knew that wasn't true.

your boyfriend was right outside the dorm, having drinks with his friends because of the party that was hosted in the slytherin common room, and he was probably looking for you too, but imagine the look on his face when he would realise his girlfriend was in her ex's bed, letting him have his way with her.

you cried out as he pounded into you deeper. you wanted to reach out to touch him, but you couldn't—not with the tie that theo had wrapped around your wrists, which forbade you from moving.

"mon amour, tell me, does he fuck you like this? does he make you come like i do?" he laughed out darkly. "i mean, come on. you're in my bed, with me, once again. has to speak for something, right?" the bastard uttered cockily. the worst part was that you couldn't even deny, because what he was saying was true. theo fucked you way better then your boyfriend did.

"j—just shut up already," you huffed, trying to sound tough. but you couldn't, not by the way your voice was wavering. theo smirked, one of his hands grabbing onto your chin roughly, making you look at him.

"your in my bed, sweetheart. im fucking you, im not that ass boyfriend of yours who you can order around, got it?" he let go of your chin roughly, leaving a slap on the side of your face. "dumb bitch.." he muttered under his breath, as he stopped moving inside you.

you immediately cried out, "d—don't stop, please.. teddy, i need you so bad.." you pouted, sniffling. this caused theo to regain the smirk on his face, grabbing onto your hips once again as he continued his actions.

you were so easy.. so damn easy to please. you were addicted to him, he knew you'd come crawling back to him if he asked. that's what made him like you.