#theodorenott

[slytherinslut0]

Theodore Nott. | that’s what i said.

info: your boyfriend was telling you about his day, when he began speaking fluent Italian, knowing damn well you only knew select words. when you asked him to repeat it, he had you come sit on his lap and ended up doing a little more than just repeating it.

word count: 3k

tags: 18+, literally pure smut. pure lorenzo italian daddy type smut. lots of italian translation (apologies to all my italians out there if they’re a little off) lots of praise, riding, piv, dirty talk.

Reclining across from you, Theodore Nott your lovely boyfriend, exuded an air of relaxed confidence while seated comfortably on the expansive leather couch in his dorm room. His legs were stretched wide, one arm casually draped over the armrest--each of his current mannerisms acting as physical testaments to the ease with which he inhabited the space.

As he delved into the narrative of his day, you, nestled in the love seat opposite him, eagerly absorbed the symphony of his voice. It was a melody that effortlessly traversed between English and Italian, a linguistic dance that had always held a special place in your heart.

His words held an irresistible charm, each syllable cascading like liquid honey off his tongue. The profound rasp of his voice, entwined with his seductive Italian accent stirred something indescribable within your body. The prospect of listening to him like this every day for the rest of your life fueled your anticipation, a certainty that the allure would never lose its magic. It was a sensation you eagerly anticipated, knowing that the richness of his voice would forever remain a timeless delight.

Yet, within the fluidity of his storytelling, Theodore suddenly shifted into Italian, weaving complete sentences with a gaze that lingered through half-lidded eyes, as if this linguistic transformation were the most natural thing in the world. Ordinarily, you might have interrupted him, gently reminding him of your language limitations, but today, well, you just couldn't bring yourself to do so.

You were almost in awe, unable to deny that there was an enchanting quality to the way the words curled off his tongue. That, coupled with the intensity of his stare, seemingly compelled you to stay silent, as if under a trance. You found yourself captivated, clinging to every indecipherable syllable, a familiar heat beginning to kindle between your thighs.

It was as if he momentarily lost himself in the labyrinth of his thoughts, forgetting, if only for an instant, that your understanding of the language was confined solely to select phrases and words. This linguistic detour left you with a quizzical frown, a silent plea for translation in the midst of his enchanting monologue, and finally, noting your confusion after what felt like ages, he paused, cocking a charming eyebrow at you.

"Something on your mind, Bella?" he teased, leisurely spreading his legs further as his gaze meandered from your eyes to your lips, only to return, locking onto your gaze once more. "You appear a touch...lost."

"Theo, I must confess--I haven't the slightest idea what you just said," you admitted, a playful pout gracing your lips. Your eyes sparkled with a blend of curiosity and mischief. "And I know you're well aware that was far beyond my linguistic expertise."

"All this time, and you still haven't mastered my language, Bella Mia..." Theo, with a dramatic flair, feigned a hurt expression, his stormy eyes widening ever so slightly. "You're truly breaking my heart."

Smirking, you teased, "forgive me, amore..."  your fingers traced an absent pattern on the armrest, a subtle invitation. "Please, feel free to repeat it--I love the way it sounds..."

A mischievous glint sparked behind his irises, a playful confidence dancing in their depths. With a self-assured grin, he patted his lap invitingly, his messy brown locks falling effortlessly over his forehead.

"Why don't you come over here," he suggested, his tone velvety, "and I'll gladly repeat it for you?"

Your grin widened, a flicker of anticipation igniting within you as you slowly rose from the chair, not needing a second thought. His burning stare followed your every move as you veered closer to him, an intensity in his eyes that set your senses ablaze without effort. As you approached, a slow, deliberate stride, the air thickened with a tangible tension, your pulse thumping in your throat.

No matter the duration of your relationship with Theo, each touch remained an electric encounter, perpetually reminiscent of the initial spark. His reverence for your body endured, a devotion that unfolded afresh with every caress, as if every moment were a new discovery for his hands and eyes.

Stalling in front of him, you giddily pulled your lip between your teeth as his hands found yours, guiding them to his shoulders as he pulled you down to straddle his lap. The warmth of his embrace enveloped you, his hands finding a natural place on your hips.

"Mm," he purred, burying his head in the crook of your neck, inhaling a sharp breath as his fingers dug into your skin. "So beautiful, Bella..."

You stifled a mewl as he pressed careless kisses along your neck, the playful banter giving way to a charged silence as his teeth softly grazed your pulse--the unspoken language between you both pulsating with desire and connection. The messy brown waves of his hair framed a face now tinged with a sultry charm, and the mischievous glint in his eyes promised a shared secret in the language only you two understood.

As if completely instinctively, you rolled your hips against his crotch, head falling back as his hands slid around to your ass, groaning against your neck as he aided your movements, guiding you back and forth against his growing bulge. You could already feel him throbbing beneath you, your cunt clenching in need for his touch as the only thing separating your heat from his groin was your thin layer of underwear, rubbing against his trousers.

"Ho voluto scoparti tutto il giorno..." he murmured, the same phrase he'd said earlier, the one in which you didn't understand. "...sei tutto ciò a cui riesco a pensare."

Your brows furrowed, about to question him, but exasperation quickly took over as he sank his teeth into your neck. He left vivid, possessive marks on your skin, his hands sliding up and under your skirt, tracing the supple contours of your ass. As you continued to move against him, a whirlwind of desire engulfed you, and you quickly lost yourself in the intoxicating rush.

"You're so fucking sexy," he breathed, his voice a low, deep murmur, reverberating a shudder of desire down your spine, his tongue trailing a flat stripe up the side of your throat. "Ho bisogno di te, mia bellissima piccola troia." (I need you, my beautiful little slut.)

"Theo..." you whimpered, your hands entwining in his hair, fingers weaving through his tousled auburn locks. His mouth ascended, planting tender, moist kisses along the ridge of your jawline. "Please-please-"

"Mm, you like that don't you, principessa?" His voice was a seductive purr, the words wrapping around you like silk as he pulled back a hand and gave you a sharp smack on your ass, eliciting an immediate squeal from your throat. "Tu ami grinding that dolce piccola figa on me like this, hm?..." (you love)(sweet little pussy)

In response to his words, an unabashed moan escaped your lips, louder than you had initially intended. Theo responded with a low growl, his free hand moving to your jaw, cradling it delicately as he guided your lips to his. The ensuing kiss spoke a language of its own--one of desire, need, and an unfiltered passion that surpassed any linguistic expression.

Your hold on his hair intensified as you pressed against him more urgently, the rhythm quickening. His tongue boldly slipped past your teeth, exploring your mouth with fervor. Simultaneously, his hands glided to the hem of your blouse, lifting it along your stomach. The kiss briefly broke as he encouraged your arms upward, swiftly pulling your shirt over your head and discarding it on the floor.

"Così bella..." he praised, his eyes fixated on your chest adorned by the delicate, lacy fabric of your white bralette. The intensity in his gaze felt scorching, as if it could sear your skin to ash. "Così, così bella, amore mio..." (So beautiful)(so, so beautiful, my love...)

His words took your breath away, slamming your chest like a fifty pound brick, the worship in his tone enough to render you speechless. You writhed in his lap, seeking friction, more friction that what you were currently experiencing--wanting him; needing him in every possible way. You captured his lips again, rolling your hips harder, the deep moan that escaped him found itself muffled by your mouth as you worked at the buttons on his shirt, fervently popping them free as quickly as you could.

The second his chest was exposed, you scoured it like a starved animal, the skin-on-skin contact sending a desperate clench to your cunt. You mapped his muscles to your memory as though it was the first time you'd ever seen them--the strength of his biceps, his strong, powerful abdomen, all of it hot and vibrating with need--you were breathless at the sight of his beauty under your palms, a feeling that had never once even partially faltered, no matter how many times you fucked him.

"Are you going to tell me what you said, Teddy..." you murmured, a playful smile dancing on your lips as your fingers skillfully moved to his belt, assisting in its release. "That was the whole reason I came over here, was it not?"

"Words can wait, amore," Theo muttered, his voice husky with desire, his gaze locked onto yours as he undid the zipper on your skirt, watching with blaring eyes as you tugged it off, along with your panties and tossed them to the floor. "Actions speak louder, don't they?"

"Mmfh," you moaned as he pulled you back against his mouth, his tongue running along your teeth as your bodies rocked together, his fingers gripping and caressing and squeezing every bit of your body that they could.

Pulling away, he met your eyes, heavily panting for breath as he gazed at you with a hunger that matched your own. His hands shifted, urging you to back up for a moment as he pulled his pants and boxers midway down his thighs--growling low in his chest as his thick, throbbing length sprung free, glistening with precum as it smacked against his chiseled stomach. You clenched.

He pulled you back against him, gliding you in slicking your soaked cunt along the length of his cock, his eyes burning wounds into your flesh as he watched you, lost in pleasure, lost in your need for him.

"Lo vuoi, amore mio?" (You want it, my love?) His voice barely rose above a whisper as he posed the question to which he damn well knew the answer. "You want this fucking cock inside that pretty little cunt?"

You shuddered, clenching hard in anticipation, nodding as you leaned closer, grazing your lips against his, panting heavily into his mouth.

"I want to hear you say it," he growled, one hand sliding up beyond your shoulders to grip the back of your neck, locking your gaze onto his. "Beg me to fuck you."

Your nails dug into his shoulders, entire body vibrating. "Please-Theo, please fuck me..."

"No, no," he playfully clucked his tongue, delivering a sharp smack to your ass with his free hand. You instinctively clenched again, the sensation electrifying. "In Italian."

"Gods," you groaned, his ceaseless teasing consistently pushing you to the brink of physical exhilaration in all the most delightful ways. Fortunately, this was a phrase he had taught you from the very beginning, a linguistic lesson that lingered since day one. "Per favore-per favore...ho bisogno di te..." (please-please…I need you.)

He exhaled, grunting. "Good girl."

It was a combined effort--he fisted his length, angling it at your core, your hands clutching his shoulders as you sank onto him, his thick girth stretching you wide with ease. You both collectively groaned, your walls pulsing and clenching around him as you took a second to adjust to his length, before rocking your hips in a slow, erotic rhythm; working yourself open on his cock.

Theo's eyes were glued to yours, watching your every movement as though he was afraid he'd miss something if he looked away. With a grunt, his big hands found your tits, palming and groping at the soft flesh with primal urgency, brushing his thumbs against your nipples, teasing them with soft circles. Your eyes rolled, your head falling back on your shoulders as you increased your pace, soft moans slipping past your lips.

"Esatto, piccola angioletta...così perfetta..." (That's right, little angel... so perfect) he murmured, his voice low, torn with husk. "You're so goddamn tight...squeezing me so good...così buono."

"Gods, Theo..." you whimpered, relishing in how deep he was, how big. "You're so fucking big."

Your boyfriend's hands shifted again, finding your hips, sharp fingernails digging into your skin as he thrust upward to match your movements, his cock hitting all the right spots. Your own fingers burrowed into his shoulders while you throbbed around him, lungs desperate for air, and he snarled, increasing his movements, setting a brutal pace that you couldn't match.

Cries fled you, pushed from your lungs by the carnal force of his hips, and Theodore consumed you--lips sucking at your neck, hands bearing bruises into your ass. His dick stretched you wide, fucked you deep, wracking your body with its punishment, breasts bouncing, his breath coming in ragged gasps against your skin.

You tilted your head back, his fervent mouth tracing down to your collarbone, claiming his territory across as much of your skin as possible. His cock pumped into you, beckoning an orgasm from the bottom of your brain--and as if sensing your clit screaming for attention, his hand snaked between your legs, fingers smoothly gliding over it. In response, you squealed, digging your nails into his shoulders with enough force to shatter the skin, body awash with pleasure.

"That's it, amore..." he groaned, breathless, teeth nipping at your earlobe, free hand gripping your ass with enough force to batter the skin. "Ride me like the good little whore you are."

"Fuck-fuck yes," you cried, your hips moving faster, chasing your orgasm as Theo's fingers rubbed tighter circles against your clit, increasing their relentless pursuit in bringing you over the edge. "Don't stop, Theo-fuck, please don't stop..."

"I won't, my love," he murmured, lips pressed against your ear, breathing the words into your eardrums. "Wouldn't fucking dream of it."

Theo's fingers worked magic on your clit as he thrust up into your cunt faster, harder--his cock hitting your g-spot with each aggressive movement. You could feel the pressure building inside your core, your body coiling like a tightly wound spring as he worked you closer and closer to the edge.

"Theo-" you gasped, your voice practically a scream. "I'm going to-I'm going-"

"Going to what, principessa...hm?" He implored, his voice a low, husky whisper escaping through his teeth; your entire essence pulsating, trembling amid his passionate pursuit. "Verrai per me? That tight little pussy going to cum on my cock?"

You wailed, head falling back, chest swelling for air. "Yes!...Theo-please!"

"Fallo. Cum for me." He graced your ass with another harsh smack, placing wet, sloppy kisses against your jawline. "Let me feel you."

With only a few more strokes, you came undone, cunt clamping around his cock, your whole body shaking as your orgasm washed over your entirety, blazing through every nerve ending and every fucking cell. Theo's fingers continued to rub you through it, prolonging the pleasure until you were left gasping for breath, nothing more than babbling nonsensical moans and pleas leaving your lips in the aftermath of his wrath.

Theo grunted, finally peeling his hand off your clit once you were whimpering and squirming against him, gripping the back of your head and drawing your mouth to his, meeting your lips in a sloppy wet kiss, each of you sucking in sharp breaths through your nostrils as you continued to ride him, your walls tingling in post orgasmic rapture.

"Brava ragazza," he moaned into your mouth, his body shaking with the force of his impending release. "So fucking good, bambina."

His movements grew erratic, hips bucking hard as he struggled to hold off his own orgasm, the force of his pace bordering on violent. You gasped, squealed, held onto him for dear life as you rode him, attempting to match his pace, but he was possessed, starved, breaking the kiss to lean back, both hands gripping your hips, holding you steady.

"You want my cum, little slut? Hm?" He gritted out, forehead glistening with sweat, his pupils blown wide with lust. "You want me to fill up this tight little cunt?"

You gasped, nodding frantically. "Yes! Please-please!"

"fuck...I'm gonna cum..." his lids fluttered, dark eyebrows pinching in concentration, his face contorting into a scowl of effort. "Cristo-you feel così buono-shit.."

With a final thrust, he growled, groaned--his movements slowing, breath sputtering from his lungs as he exploded, pumping once, twice, three times--all before coming to a halt, cock twitching inside you as he drained his hot cum deep into your pussy. Sweat beaded each of your foreheads, bliss buzzing between your bodies as you kissed him softly, panting into his mouth as you each worked silently to come back down to earth, pulses pounding in ruthless rhythm.

Spent and fully sated, Theo cradled the back of your head, pulling you into him, his free arm snaking around your back. You wrapped your arms around his neck, keeping him inside you as you two stayed like that for a moment, relishing in the intimacy between your bodies as he softened, his lips placing tender kisses on your shoulder.

"Ho voluto scoparti tutto il giorno..." he murmured softly, a hint of amusement in his tone as he repeated the words he knew you had no idea of their meaning. "sei tutto ciò a cui riesco a pensare."

"Stop teasing me." You huffed, burying your face into the crook of his neck. "It's not very nice of you, Theo..."

He chuckled, a low hum from deep in his chest, smirking against your skin as he tightened his grip around you, brushing loose strands of hair behind your ear.

“I wanted to fuck you all day...” he murmured, lips brushing your temple. “You’re all I can think about..."

You pulled back, meeting his stormy eyes. "Is that-"

"Yes." He interrupted you with a gentle kiss, smiling against your lips. "That's what I said."

[talesofadragon]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐔𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞

Summary: Theodore Nott came to learn that an inciting incident can alter the course of history. Lucius Malfoy’s fall led to Draco’s dark mark and the death of Dumbledore. The rise of the Dark Lord urged Harry Potter into hiding and Death Eaters into prominence. And then there was Amycus Carrow, with his tainted hands on Y/N, who forced Theodore Nott to do the unforgivable.

Warnings: Sexual assault, attempted rape, graphic description of violence, panic attacks

Pairing: Theodore Nott x Non-Slytherin!Reader

Genre: Angst | Hurt/Comfort

Word count: 5.8K

All Masterlists | Theodore Nott Masterlist

𝐅𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐥𝐬. The lines between the two flow steadily, each following its own cadence. And yet, despite their distinct course and the light years between them, they somehow find a way to draw parameters of joint space. Somehow, someway, they eventually overlap—meeting each other at the apex of catalysts and the twists between junctures to shape history and write the present.

Today starts like most stories do: quaint and subtle, setting the tone for an inciting incident that will tip this fable on its axis.

It’s a typical day, or as typical as it could get during Y/N’s last year at Hogwarts. She’s sitting at the far end of her Defense Against the Dark Arts class, donning the same apprehensive expression as all her classmates. The turmoil that governs the halls is a jarring contrast to the flourishing and effervescent school of witchcraft and wizardry Hogwarts once was.

In this mangled reality, there are specks of the idyllic tales she’s heard about, and witnessed, growing up. Slytherins and Gryffindors sustain their infamous rivalry while in search of their individual purpose, purebloods hold themselves on par with Merlin himself, and more often than not, students find refuge in a forgotten nuke in Hogwarts when the burden of magic becomes too heavy to bear.

In the first drafts of the story, Hogwarts held its students under one embrace. But now, as we’re nearing a hazy end, an isolating veil drapes over the school, fracturing it into fewer than four houses and dividing it more than ever before.

“Now, as Barty Crouch Junior has so tirelessly shared, you have already been acquainted with Merlin’s three most formidable spells,” Alecto Carrow, one of Voldemort’s trusted Death Eaters explains. Her heels dig into the marble floors of the classroom, their screeches ricocheting across the walls in warning. 

“The Unforgivables,” her brother Amycus eagerly finishes. His yellow teeth wither under the dim light of the darkened sun as his arms open wide. It’s unsettling how he and his sister welcome such misfortune so openly.

As it happens every single time the Carrow twins revel in the darkest boulevards of magic, Y/N shifts in her seat until she’s nearly imperceptible. Each time, her eyes rove the expanse of the classroom, seeking out the comfort of peculiar hazel eyes. Within just ten seconds, her wandering gaze comes to rest on the idle brown walls, a weight of defeat settling upon her.

Upon her reluctant return to Hogwarts this year, Y/N was met with a torrent of unimaginable changes, starting with students being separated not only based on their house but also their blood status.

Purebloods became a procession of peacocks—majestic, refined, otherworldly. Only allowed to flick around with students of the same upper class. 

Half-bloods, on the other hand, belong to inconsistent ideologies. They teeter on the precipice of honor, waiting for Death Eaters like Umbridge and whoever else is in the Ministry to decide their fate. 

Muggleborns, it's best not to get started.

Y/N doodles a few meaningless shapes, swirling her quill around the parchment as she thinks of Theodore. Lately, it's become increasingly difficult to talk to him, let alone spot him, with all the changes in place.

Her classmates know she’s not paying attention and that she's only pretending she has her nose buried deep in her notes. Her quill, which scratches against the parchment, is nothing but a ruse to get the Carrows off her scent. 

This class truly has nothing to offer except for a modicum of nostalgia and a barrage of abuse, so if the Carrows are so gullible to believe that Y/N is actively listening, then so be it. 

By now, she takes it a step further, looking up to meet the eyes of the young children brought forth by the Carrows. She’s mastered the art of stoicism to a T, gazing at their expressions without showing a measly emotion. But every single time, she finds herself transported eons back to a time when things were drastically better.

Her memories vary, depending on whatever catalyst she encounters. She recalls seeing a girl with ginger waves once, and her mind acted on autopilot, bringing her back to the times she and her friends would huddle in their common room to animatedly talk about the latest Weasley prank. 

At the previous hints of pink, she remembered Umbridge when she was finally escorted outside of Hogwarts grounds. 

And today, her memories are not too different. Bittersweet at best and wistful at most. 

She finds a boy biting down on his lower lip. He’s a Gryffindor, judging by the color of his tie, more so by his audaciousness when he decides to lift his head and contain his fear. His eyes are hazel, edging closer to honey brown underneath the dim light of the classroom. And her mind is cruel enough to conjure the image of Theodore hovering above her naked body with lustful hazel eyes and abused fiery lips. 

Theodore doesn’t particularly fancy his eye color—he doesn’t quite fancy much about himself. He’s not oblivious to his popularity, but unlike Draco Malfoy, who shines like the stars, Theodore Nott glows like the moon in a dance of subtlety and intensity; a paradoxical luminosity that always leaves Y/N in awe. 

He never particularly bothered her during their first couple of years at Hogwarts, which explains why they never interacted until their fifth year. Back when Umbridge was foul toward the student population, especially vile toward anyone of lesser blood. 

Dennis Creevey, who had been a first-year at that time, fell victim to her malice. His penance for being born to muggle parents was bloodily etched on his hand. Y/N tried to help him, even though her own hand was hurting just as badly. The healing spells didn’t counter the dark magic infused in the quills, and while she could handle the pain, the poor eleven-year-old couldn’t. 

"May I?" a voice softly breathed from behind her, causing her to jump slightly. She turned to see the unexpected sight of Theodore Nott, dressed in an emerald green tie and an aura of pristine silver. Y/N's breath caught in her throat, and her hands trembled, a reaction heightened by the delicate hints of cinnamon swirling in the air.

When Theodore pulled out his wand, Dennis cowered. And to her surprise, Theodore’s face fell. Yet he quickly covered his crestfallen expression with a mask of pure stoicism.

Y/N’s gaze meandered away from the Slytherin and settled on the young Gryffindor. “It’s okay, Dennis,” she recalled herself saying at the time, even though she hadn’t mentally given her words the green light to tumble out of her mouth. Both Dennis and Theodore seemed equally surprised, turning their heads her way. “He’s not going to hurt you.” 

Maybe it was the softness of Theodore’s hazel eyes, or maybe it was how he abstained from touching the boy's bruised hand and elected to kneel to his level. To this day, Y/N doesn’t know what exactly made her fall for Theodore at that exact moment in time. 

Yet, all she knows in certainty is that she’s in love with Theodore Aurelius Nott. Pureblood, Slytherin Elite, Son of Darkness. But what can she do if one glance at his hazel orbs leaves her drowning in the depths of his moonshine?

“Miss Y/L/N!” 

Y/N’s head jerks when a protruding voice disturbs her reverie. She chances a glance at the front of the classroom, finding Alecto Carrow’s lidded eyes on her. Bright and sage, a stark contrast to the malevolence nestled within them.

“Yes?” Y/N wonders aloud.

“Given your diligence in recording the theoretical aspect of The Unforgivables, I believe it’s time for you to engage in the practicalities of said lesson,” Alecto announces with a tone that leaves no room for negotiation or refutation. 

With a sharp nod, she ushers Y/N out of her seat, beckoning her over until she's two steps away from her. Y/N stands idly, unaware of whether she's going to role-play as the tormentor or the tormented. But her internal questions are answered the moment Amycus Carrow shoves the Gryffindor boy with hazel eyes into her line of sight.

"Go on." Alecto wears a sinister expression as she levels Y/N with a taunting smile. "Demonstrate your aptitude to the class.”

Y/N doesn't step back nor does she shy away. She clings to the apathetic front she's adopted from her boyfriend, her gaze falling on the young boy, and her thoughts drowning out Alecto's sharp voice. By the time Amycus asks her to draw out her wand, she's mustered up enough confidence to answer with a terse "no."

“What do you mean no, you insolent brat!” Alecto bellows, being the first to succumb to her temper. For a snake, she is known to be as hot-headed as a lion. 

“I refuse to perform any curse on anyone,” Y/N clarifies, purposefully refraining from calling her “professor.” And if she had half a brain cell, perhaps she would’ve figured it out. 

“Is that so?” Alecto challenges. 

“Yes.” 

“Very well, despicable half-breed. You know the rules. You’re either the rodent or the snake. Guess you’ll always be the former.” 

She's calm and aloof on the outside, but Y/N is dreading what’s coming next. She’s never fallen victim to the Cruciatus, though she has heard all about it from Theodore and his friends—even once from Harry. 

She watches with steady eyelashes as Alecto draws her wand and points it at her. Although the curse is released, and screams reverberate across the walls, both Alecto and Y/N remain silent.

To Y/N's horror, the young Gryffindor boy thrashes on the ground with clenched fists and agonizing wails. Above him, Amycus stands like a conductor, his wand beckoning the crooked notes of the boy's voice to rise to a crescendo.

Finally, the screams die down, extinguishing and feeding the anguish of every student at once. Amycus turns to address the class, dismissing them all except for one. “You go ahead, Alecto,” he directs toward his sister. “If the little mouse wishes to squeak, then she’ll have to suffer graver consequences than what you have to offer.” 

Whatever Amycus has in mind seems to appease Alecto. Her expression is mirthful as she grabs the robes of the young Gryffindor boy and sweeps him out of the class, using his body as a cleaning broom. 

The students all file out, their glances lingering on Y/N. As the last of the students leaves, Amycus turns to the young girl. 

“Your wand, Miss Y/L/N,” he demands. Y/N debates not giving it to him, but she knows if she doesn’t, he’ll come and collect it himself. So, she reluctantly hands it over. “Ah, pretty little thing. What’s the core?”

“Dragon heartstring.” 

“Fitting for a spitfire like you.” 

“I thought I was a meek little mouse,” Y/N counters, making Amycus grin. 

“You are a lot of things, little girl,” he replies as he twirls her wand in his hand. “The wood?” 

“Larch.” 

“Enlighten me, Y/L/N,” Amycus voices out. If Y/N’s a mouse, then he seems to enjoy being a cat. His long and calloused fingers trace her wand while he circles her, trying to break her resolve. “What does the wood say about you?”

The question strokes her ear, carried by Amycus’ ghastly voice. Y/N stills, not seeing where he’s going. She jolts as Amycus taps the wand against her thigh, particularly the exposed skin between her skirt and stockings. 

“It’s best paired with wizards and witches who possess hidden talents,” she replies tersely. 

The hum coming from her side indicates that Amycus is listening—paying attention, though, not so much, considering he’s rather preoccupied with poking her skin with her wand while rotating around her. 

He’s playing with his food, Y/N tells herself, knowing this is just another trick of his. Somewhere in his sadist brain, his senses are sparking with delight at the prospect of Y/N’s discomfort, relishing the power he has over her.

A part of her wants to jam her wand in his eyes, pluck his eyeballs out, and proceed to stuff each in his nostrils. But another part of her stands idle, not even blinking as he keeps up his ministrations. 

Amycus smiles, taking up more of her personal space. Y/N’s senses are lit on fire as he traces her wand across her body. “Is your mouth a part of those talents, filthy witch? You don’t talk much, but rotten girls like you must know how to use their mouths.”

“To scream, I presume,” Y/N breathes. Her quip hits Amycus right in the face, and the maniac grins. His face is painted with a nefarious glee, that of a predator eager to feast on its prey. 

SA and Attempted Rape Content Begins Here. Skip Through This Scene by Scrolling to "Scene End."

The unsettling sensation against her ribs dissipates when Amycus pulls the wand away, but the apprehension still lingers. As she mentally prepares herself for the inevitable pain that comes along with the Cruciatus, Amycus’ hand cups her chin, and his molten lips crash against hers. The sensation is so crippling and unfavorable it sends her tumbling back into the table.

The pressure on YN’s cheeks intensifies until it becomes sharp and metallic. Fingers dig into her flesh, paving a path for Amycus’ tongue to follow. Though her hands slap against his chest, legs flailing around, he continues his exploration in the depths of her throat. 

It feels like he’s finally thrown her off a cliff, yet with all the energy Y/N can muster, she pushes his body away and slaps him across the face. 

He looks at her with unadulterated rage. Y/N forgoes reading his face in favor of bolting toward the door. But before she reaches the handle, she’s yanked back by her robes. The fabric tears, as does her heart. Amycus then throws her on top of the teacher’s desk and catches both her wrists in his hand. 

“Pitty your blood is impure, little witch. If you had to match your filthy mouth with something, I’d rather it be your pussy than your blood.” 

“Get off me,” Y/N enunciates with a quiver in her voice. It seems to feed Amycus’ wicked desires because she suddenly finds him nipping at her neck in pure delight. 

“You’ve disobeyed my direct order. When witches are bad, they’re punished.”

“You’re sick!” 

“And you’re delicious.” 

Y/N takes a deep breath, burying his face further in the junction between her neck and shoulder. His kisses are filthy, heavy, frigid. They make her body feel like ice—they make her feel as if she's been snatched and thrown into the depths of the Dark Lake. 

Amycus' hands grab her waist and flip her over until her gaze meets the darkness of the desk’s wood. If the sensation of the wand against her thigh left acid in her mouth, then Amycus’ fingers left her with bile overwhelming her senses.

“What a pretty little ass you’re hiding under here. It was made to be ruined.”

Y/N doesn’t have time to panic. In fluid movements, Amycus lifts her skirt, rips off the shorts she typically wears beneath, and spanks her ass. 

She yelps, struggling against the hand against her back that’s keeping her on the desk. She’s hit one more time and then two and three. The slaps are forceful and fiery, leaving her skin scalded and singed. 

A roar erupts from the depths of her soul when she feels a finger easing her thong. The force of her scream catches Amycus off guard, enough for Y/N to elbow him and dive to the ground for her wand. 

“Cruc—”

“Oh, so now you want to cast it!” 

With ease, Amycus manages to slap Y/N’s wand away. He ruthlessly places his palm against her stomach, pushing her back to the ground. 

Her head aches from the force of the blow, a scream barrelling through the space between her lips when Amycus towers over her, digging his obsidian nails into her skin. 

“It’s a shame that the most delightful toys happen to be the filthiest. Maybe this will teach you and your kind that you will forever remain beneath us.”

Y/N cries as Amycus incapacitates her lips. She squirms underneath his body, vaguely aware of the fabric he’s tearing in half, though oblivious to what clothing item it belongs to. 

She tries to non-verbally cast a spell, but her mind is too distracted to focus on the incantation. All she knows is that she needs to get Amycus off her. And yet, no amount of strength in her hands or her spells manages to draw him to a stop. 

His spit traces her lower lip, tantalizingly closing the distance between her mouth and collarbone. Y/N shudders, bellowing at the thought of his saliva trailing her skin. 

She wails, screams, and shouts until she realizes that Amycus probably cast Silencio without her knowing. Though futile, she tries to push his body weight off her, even resorts to kicking his ribs. 

It doesn’t work... until by some miracle from Merlin himself Amycus’ body flies toward the back wall, releasing her.

Scene End

Y/N gasps, pushing her palms against the tiled floor and lifting herself to a sitting position. Her chest heaves as she looks at the discarded fabric of her skirt, the scattered buttons of her shirt, and the remains of her robe that are haphazardly strewn across the room. 

Faint sounds register at the back of her mind. A heavy breath, mirroring her own, emanates from behind, accompanied by an erratic heartbeat that matches hers. Amidst it all, she picks up on Amycus’s forlorn groans, muffled by the surrounding darkness. Resilient ropes now bind his hands and feet, rendering him completely motionless.

“Get Y/N out of here,” a voice orders. It’s far away—at least, Y/N thinks so. But despite the fog around its edges, she can somehow sense the enmity lacing it. 

Before she can process the shadows creeping closer to her side, a robe is draped over her shoulders as arms wrap securely around her.

She thrashes against the man holding her, trying to repel his hands from her body. “It’s okay, Y/N,” he says in a low octave. “It’s okay. You’re okay. You’re safe. I promise you. He can't touch you anymore.” 

The voice carries a bit of an edge, yet it’s the most soothing sound she’s heard all day. Her lips quiver as she internally fights with her thoughts, head spinning and shaking in defeat. 

The halls around her move fast, time seemingly irrelevant at this point. She’s crying and mumbling incoherently, burying her face in the fabric of this stranger’s clothes, which smell like a familiar blend of mint and citrus. 

The robe is wrapped tighter around her shoulders, and she receives a faint squeeze as she’s brought up a staircase. Words are whispered, a door is opened, and voices mingle with one another until a delicate tone enters her headspace.

“Draco, who’s that you’re carrying?” 

“It’s Y/N,” the male voice, the one belonging to Draco, replies. Draco kicks open a door and places Y/N on the bed. She wails even more at the action, curling herself into a ball—at this point, she doesn’t know if she should be relieved or terrified.

“What the hell happened to her?” 

“Lower your voice, Pansy! Can’t you see she’s scared enough?” 

Pansy stutters for a few seconds before asking again, “Who did this to her?” 

Draco hesitates, looking between the two young women. “Amycus,” he replies. And though it’s barely a mumble, it’s enough to send Y/N spiraling. 

Pansy’s jade eyes tread carefully as they peer over Y/N’s frail body. She sees the red marks on her hands and the blood that seeps from the cuts on her face. “Cruciatus?” she asks, but something in her tone makes it obvious that it’s just wishful thinking. 

“No,” Draco answers. Y/N’s sniffles and shudders fill the air as Pansy and Draco exchange silent glances. Y/N clutches her throat, rubbing it to try and get herself more oxygen. 

“What do we do?” 

Draco's footsteps echo as he retreats toward the door. “You're going to her clean up. If Theo hasn’t killed Amycus yet, I’m going to join him in his pursuit.”

There was something in that last line that clamped agony around Y/N’s heart, squeezing like a vice. She wept, only vaguely conscious of Pansy’s soothing touch in her hair and the remnants of Draco's anger looming around the room.

The mirror in the bathroom captures two girls in its glassy frame. One of them is put together while the other looks worse for wear. Y/N stares at her wild reflection, moroseness painting her irises. A tiny sob escapes her barely parted lips, and Pansy decides to tear Y/N’s attention away from the broken girl staring at them through the mirror. 

She softly holds Y/N's hand and helps her to the shower, turning her head when Y/N undresses and then carefully cleans her blotched skin. Once they’re done, she lends Y/N some pajamas and underwear, giving her the privacy and space to change into them before helping her dry her hair.

Wordlessly, Pansy leads Y/N away from the mirror. Her grip is firm as she swings open the bathroom door. Y/N squints against the sudden invasion of light from the room beyond. Her gaze takes in the expanse of her surroundings and the rich emerald hue of the Head Dorm's walls. Then, her eyes lock on two men. One with platinum blond hair and the other with brunette locks, both embracing the shadows with deadly intent in their fiery eyes.

She bristles, caught between shying away and clutching the attention she’s receiving from them. Y/N doesn’t dwell on their appearance for too long, afraid to develop the ability to read their eyes and stumble across the shame and pity possibly nestled within them. 

Pansy whispers something under her breath, which Y/N fails to hear under the barrage of despondency she finds herself in. She feels Pansy’s hesitant touch on her forearm, briefly catching her and Draco retreating away, the door to the room closing behind them in a soft thud. 

Silence runs freely around the room, undeterred by the confined space. Its loudness disturbs Y/N, forcing her to wince. She wills herself to say something, but all the words are lodged in her throat, searing it from the inside out.

Theodore takes a deep breath, the sound piercing the stillness in the air. But his words don’t leave his mouth the same way his gaze never paces beyond a fixed point on the ground. 

“Why are you not looking at me?” Y/N asks. She’s surprised that she’s articulated her thoughts even though she doesn’t have enough strength to speak.

Theodore shakes his head. “I can’t”. His words have finally forced his gaze away from the ground, although he’s refusing to settle it on her.

“I wouldn’t look at me either. I get it.” Y/N sniffles. Darkness clouds her sight. She’s tired and aching, barely finding her grip on reality. 

She wants to scream, and she wants to cry, but it’s like she doesn’t know how. Like her mainframe has been hijacked and forced to shut down. 

Something in her periphery catches her attention. Theodore is now standing before her, hands trembling by his sides. They move to embrace her waist, to hold her shoulders, to cup her face; but they never do. They only trace invisible lines that mirror her figure. It’s then that she notices the fray in his gaze. Instead of the rejection and the indifference she expected to find, there’s dejectedness, misery, and pain. 

“I would look at you forever if you let me,” Theodore answers with his hands hanging in the space between them. “If you would still allow me.”

“Touch me,” Y/N retorts. Hold me, find me, fix me, love me.

And Theodore does just that with unprecedented gentleness. He traces her cheeks with his thumb and pulls her by the waist closer to his side. His nose nuzzles her neck, breathing in her scent. His lips press against the shell of her ear, his warm breath penetrating her soul and sending a fond tingle down her spine. 

He touches her, not like she’s a porcelain doll or a bomb about to detonate. Theodore touches her like she’s the most precious piece of art he’s ever encountered, and he’s afraid that even one stumbled breath could force her colors away.

“I love you,” he confesses. A loan tear accompanies his declaration, inscribing the words on the fabric of Y/N’s soul. “And I am so sorry. So sorry, my love, for what my absence and negligence have put you through.”

“Theo…”

“No, Y/N. Don’t. Don’t try to say anything.” 

Theodore wipes her tears, gently tucking some loose strands of her hair behind her ears. Y/N nods, allowing her boyfriend to hoist her in his arms and carry her to bed. She hides her face in his neck, absorbing the lingering traces of his sandalwood perfume. 

When he places her on the bed, she notices the change in his demeanor as soon as she tangles her legs with his and rushes to press his hands against his chest. Her eyes fill with tears, and she fails to prepare herself for the rejection that she’s afraid might be rushing her way. 

To her astonishment, Theodore pulls her into a tighter hug, as if seeking a connection beyond the surface, binding together not only their skin but also the intricate layers below—souls, hearts, atoms.

“Did he…” Theodore pauses, choking on unspoken words. “Did he go far?”

Y/N shook her head. “No. You and Draco came just in time.”

“Barely,” Theodore denies. A stolen glance gives Y/N a clear view of his clenched jaw and crestfallen expression. The war may be looming, yet to find its way to the Wizarding World, but it has already made a dominion in Theodore’s features. 

“Just in time.” Minutes pass while Y/N is cocooned protectively in between Theodore’s strong arms. They encase her, filling her being with the placidity and the tenderness that was robbed of her some time ago. Her eyes close, darkness not as fearful as it seemed now that Theodore’s hands are weaving through her hair, and his voice is carrying a tender lullaby. “How did you know?”

Theodore’s hands falter and the lullaby ends on an abrupt note. His arms pull Y/N closer to his chest as he ruefully explains what happened, “A Gryffindor boy found me. He was frightened and jittery. At first, I thought it was because Draco and I were standing together. Then he said something about Defense class, the Carrows, and the Cruciatus. Your name got suddenly tangled in the gruesomeness of it all, so I rushed to the class as far as I could." 

“They wanted me to hurt him,” Y/N whispers in a small voice.

“I know.”

“I couldn’t do it.”

Theodore looks at her with glassy eyes. “I know you would never.” 

His hands sooth Y/N, featherless touches easing the altercation in her soul. She meets his gaze, heart shattering at the pain he harbors. She knows it’s not easy for Theodore to be a silent witness to torture and heartache, understanding his unconscious pursuit of absorbing pain and rooting it in his very being.

“Please,” she begins, “please, Theo. Don’t blame yourself.”

“I’ve failed you.”

“You haven’t.”

He declines vehemently, “I promised to protect you from the darkness, within me and beyond me. And I have clearly done neither.”

You had no way of knowing! Y/N argued in her head. You, alone, cannot stop this madness! So many rebuttals swarmed her head. She wanted to pelt Theodore with every single one of them until some sense got knocked into him. “Darkness,” he says so loosely as if he’s ever exposed her to any of it. 

All her memories of Theodore exuded radiance, softness, and peace. He’s only ever steered her away from the darkness, whether it was from Umbridge’s rage back in their fifth year or Bellatrix’s terror at the end of their sixth. 

To hear him speak of himself like this, as if he’s one of them, a shadow branded by the mark of death, hurts her more than everything Amycus did to her. 

“What did you do to Amycus?”

The name causes Theodore’s heart to falter beneath the palm of Y/N’s hands. Her eyes trace the veins of his neck, astounded by the voraciousness of their color as his anger escalates. “Do not say that vermin’s name.” 

Darkness, Theodore would call it if he sees himself now. And yet, all the world is witnessing according to Y/N is a darker shade of love and concern: just as sincere, a lot more warm. 

“Carrow,” she concedes. “What did you do to Carrow?”

“I wanted to kill him,” Theodore answers, studying Y/N’s face for a reaction. “I almost killed him.” If he was looking for disgust or worse, fear, he couldn’t find it.

“And why didn’t you?”

“Draco called for Snape.”

Y/N hums, absentmindedly reaching for Theodore’s hand. He hesitates when he feels her fingers entwining with his, his entire body tensing up. Y/N whines, and he takes a deep breath. His fingers lace hers, squeezing her hand before bringing it to his lips. 

“Are you in trouble?”

“No, treasure. No one but that scum is. Snape said nothing. He bound his hands and escorted him to his office.”

“Good,” Y/N replies.

“That’s not all,” Theodore intercedes, catching her attention. She shifts in his arms, waiting for his next words with a bated breath. “We’re getting out of here.”

“What?” came Y/N’s question, loud, sharp, and clear. It resonated across the room, its intensity surprising her.

“I didn’t kill him,” Theodore admits. He’s moved now, body peering away from Y/N’s hold to better study her features. She keeps them the way they are, with no sign of the acrimony or the resentment she suspects Theodore is looking for. “But I uttered the curse. Draco countered it somehow, and it rebounded. Hit the wall instead. It cracked it, the same way I cracked every single bone in his body and watched him bleed.”

As the words fill the space between them, Y/N rushes to grab Theodore’s hands. She inspects them, surprised to find them bruising. How did I not notice this? She whimpers at her late realization—her neglect. But now that his marred skin is beneath the scrutiny of her gaze, she notices that the blue and purple hues are rather dull in comparison to his story.

Almost as if Theodore understood her silent concerns, he says, “Cruciatus.” Y/N bristles, though her body is traitorous. It jolts, feeling the residue of the invisible needles and acid-laced knives. “Sectumsempra and a number of other curses that flew out of my mouth without thought when I saw you lying on the ground, bloody, bruised, broken. Torn apart by a mediocre middle-aged man, who deserves nothing but to be decapitated, torn limb by limb, until there’s not even a speck of his ashes left on the—”

“Theo,” Y/N calls. Her voice quivers, mirroring the tremble in her body provoked by those words. “Stop.”

“I’m sorry,” Theodore sniffs, head bending down. 

Y/N rushes to answer, shaking her head violently. “No. I can’t… I can’t watch you tear yourself apart over something you had no control over.”

“I—”

“Listen to me! Listen to me and not the lies inside your head. Does it hurt? Yes. Does it burn? More than a Fienfyre cast by the Dark Lord himself. But you weren’t there—no, Theo, come back to me and stop traveling in time inside your head.”

“I’m supposed to protect you,” Theo defended. “Merlin, Y/N. I was supposed to be there! To stop all of this from happening. You’re in pain more than I am. So, stop subduing my anger!”

“I’m subduing your self-deprecation! I’m not blaming you, and I will not fan the flames of your anger. You had no way, no way, of knowing Carrow would do this.”

“I’m supposed to protect you,” he answers with a little less fight and a lot more shame. 

“And you did, Theo,” Y/N assures, bringing herself closer to his side. “You got me out. You saved me. In time.”

“Barely!” Theodore screams, a deluge of tears running down his cheeks and burying his resolve in their undertow. “But I will save you this time. I’ll get you out. Both of us. I’ll take you away, somewhere you won’t be judged for your blood or your mistake in choosing me.”

“You’re not a mistake,” Y/N refutes, begging him to see. “Look at you. You call yourself a vision of darkness when your love and care are shining through.”

“My love is darkness, viciousness, and cruelty.” It’s almost as if he’s the one begging her to understand.

Tears cascade down Y/N’s cheeks, the saltiness and bitterness of them incomparable to Theodore’s words. “Your love is fierceness,” Y/N professes, taking Theodore’s breath away, “seamlessness, and warmth.”

“I made you live through pain,” Theodore pleads, hoping she agrees. But she doesn't.

“And I will live after it. With you.”

The confession shatters the last of Theodore’s resolve. He pulls Y/N closer, resting his chin atop her head and enveloping her in a secure embrace. “I’m so sorry,” he cries. His fingers weave through her hair, gripping the back of her head, anchoring himself in her presence—convincing himself that she’s here. “You are so strong, treasure. Stronger than life and death, brighter than light, and fiercer than shadows. I love you, my Y/N. And I swear on your head and on my mother’s last breath that I will protect you even if I have to do the unforgivable. No one will ever hurt you ever again.”

“I know,” Y/N nods as Theodore kisses the crown of her head. Each breath he takes, every word he utters, stitches through her soul, mending the threads of herself. “And I love you all the more for it.”

“You’ve endured a war. I’ll be damned if I let you face another,” Theodore promises, capturing Y/N’s lips and seamlessly merging his soul with hers.

Tomorrow remains uncertain, and control extends only so far across the horizon. Yet, with Theodore by her side, Y/N finds the darkness considerably less formidable. Even if he's willing to commit the unforgivable to shield her, forgiveness is a given. His love is the tranquility that follows the tempest, and she's ready to navigate through destruction with Theodore.

I never expected to write about a topic as painful and sensitive as SA or rape.

Hearing the multiple accounts of women around me made me see how these experiences are prevalent yet scarcely communicated. When I wrote this piece, it was with no intention to diminish the seriousness of the issue but rather use this platform as a conduit to raise the matter and bring it to light. Whether you’ve been personally impacted by this disheartening situation or witnessed someone close to you go through this, I want you to know that you are not alone. You are incredibly brave for enduring this, and there is no reason to feel ashamed. You lived through it and will live after it with even more fierceness and courage than you've ever had.

If you ever feel like talking, please know that I am here to listen, without judgment or reservation. 🤍

All-Fandom Taglist: @xxrougefangxx

[ashisgreedy]

Theo Nott x F!Reader "Revved"

Modern AU Biker!Theo

Tags: SMUT 18+ MDNI | Established Relationship | Forced Orgasm/Made to Cum | Multi O’s | Overstimulation | F!Penetration | Motorcycle Stimulation/Sex | Outdoor Sex | Oneshot | Chars over 21+ |

A|N: At the end

WC: 3272

Sum: Her Biker boyfriend, Theodore, takes her on a ride on his motorcycle. However, the bike feels a bit too good… making her feel all kinds of pleasure as they race down the winding roads.

She rapidly swipes an extra coat of mascara on her lashes upon hearing a knock on the door. She tosses the tube back in her makeup bag and gives herself a final once-over in the mirror.

A more insistent knock echoes just as she approaches the door.

“I’m coming!” She shouts, checking out the peephole to make sure it’s who she thinks it is.

She recognizes his messy brown waves and his signature sunglasses. Throwing open the door, she pulls him in for a hug. “Hey!”

Theo smiles as he hugs her tight. “Hey, bella.” He holds his motorcycle helmet in one hand and wraps his free arm tight around her waist. “Are you ready to go?” He looks down at her as he rubs her lower back

“Yeah, let me just grab my helmet and we can be off.”

The two share a quick kiss before she reaches for the helmet on the coffee table in her living room. His smile lingers a touch longer than usual, prompting her to narrow her eyes in suspicion.

“You’re earlier than you said you’d be.” Her gaze slides to him after glancing at the clock on the wall.

“No traffic.” Theo returns the look.

Holding her helmet, an exact match to the one Theo is clutching—a gift from him on their last anniversary—she leads him out the door.

“What’s that look on your face?” She tries to see his blue eyes beyond the dark sunglasses. His smirk grew the closer they got to his bike.

“What look? I always look like this.” He chews the gum in his mouth to one side.

She knew him well enough to know something was up. “What’s going on, Theo? What are you up to?”

“Nothing,” He puts on his helmet, hiding the grin he’s sporting. “I can’t be happy to see my girl?”

She narrows her eyes again before putting on her own helmet. Theo climbs onto his bike and waits for her to do the same.

“I suppose…” She's only halfway convinced. Despite that, she decides to let it go for the moment, fully aware that she'll revisit the topic later, perhaps after their first pit stop.

Silently, he waits for her to mount his bike. It's a routine they've repeated a dozen times, exploring the city and venturing into the mountains together. The scenery never fails to amaze her, and the sheer excitement of speeding down the road with the wind in her hair never loses its thrill.

Theo glances back, keeping a watchful eye to ensure she doesn't struggle while swinging her leg over the bike. Earlier, he had suggested she wear a flowy skirt for their evening ride. It was normal for him to request certain clothing items from her. However, as she attempts to arrange the ends of the fabric under her legs on the seat, she's already regretting the choice. The skirt proved to be a bit of a challenge for a motorcycle ride. Mindful of avoiding any unintentional flashing to passers-by, she took her time ensuring every part was neatly tucked in.

Theo was patient and waited for her to tap his shoulder to indicate she was ready since the helmet muffled her voice.

Tonight's plan was to take a ride along the meandering roads leading toward the mountains just as the sun began to set. It had been some time since they last took this route, and she was excited to see the breathtaking views again.

Once satisfied with her modesty, she tapped his shoulder and wrapped her arms around his waist.

Theo braced the bike and the engine roared to life. Nestling her face into his black leather jacket, she inhaled the familiar oaky fragrance that mingled with the metallic scent of the open air, creating a comforting warmth in her chest. With her knees snug against the back of his jean-clad thighs, she readied herself for acceleration.

A thunderous rev echoed as he zoomed down the street, sending her heart racing with adrenaline. She smiled wide from ear to ear as he picked up speed.

In the blink of an eye, her neighborhood vanished, and they found themselves on the expansive open road. The sky painted in hues of blues, oranges, and pinks washed over the landscape. He took a right turn and then they were off on the long stretch toward the mountains where he picked up speed.

She held on to him tight, keeping her weight on the bike's center. Her hands idly rubbed his chest while she enjoyed the surrounding scenery—countless trees and valleys on one side and massive mountains on the other.

At a red light, Theo reached up to his chest, gently intertwining his fingers with hers. Hugging him from behind, she showed her affection through 'I love you' squeezes. He reciprocated, squeezing her hand in return.

They entered the mountain roads, speeding past forests and lesser-known hiking trails, with no car in sight for miles. It was nice getting away from it all, leaving behind the stresses of the week as they sped past streetlights gradually illuminating their path.

Beneath her, the bike hummed pleasantly, the absence of her usual thick denim pants allowing her to feel the vibrations more intimately. Then Theo revved the engine, and the sensation escalated to something pleasurable. The vibrations surged through her like an electric current, causing a blush to creep across her cheeks.

The only thing between her clit and the seat was her cotton panties. She breathed through it and tried to relax against his back.

The engine revved higher and her fingers dug into his chest. She held him in a vice grip and shifted in her seat. The bike wavered and Theo turned his head for a moment to look back at her. He quickly moved his gaze to the road and continued the ride.

The bike seat’s vibration felt even more incredible. She shifted minutely, trying not to make the bike come unbalanced but the assault on her clit was becoming too much.

He sped off down the mountain road, but she wasn’t paying attention to the beautiful scenery anymore.

Her legs were shaking and her stomach muscles clenched as shockwaves rippled through her core. The orgasm hit her like a bus. She gasped and clung to Theo, fighting the urge not to rock her hips for some delicious added friction.

The pleasant release was quickly thwarted when the bike's unrelenting vibrations assaulted her now oversensitive clit.

She couldn’t stop the moans that escaped her as another orgasm was pulled from her. Her thighs clamped down on the bike as her body pulsed. Her cries of pleasure were audible in the wind as one orgasm melted into another and another.

The seat and her panties were soaked from the wetness making it harder to stay on. She felt herself sliding, but the death grip she had on Theodore kept her centered.

She must have been knocking the air out of his lungs with the strength of her grip but there had been no reaction from him at all, even when she screamed in pleasure.

The vibrations changed slightly giving her a break from the strong ones she’d been accosted with, and the orgasms finally stopped. She was sweating and gasping for breath.

She smacked his chest and could feel his body rumble with laughter. She smacked him again and he revved the engine higher and, oh, fuck… he was doing this on purpose.

Her clit throbbed to the point of pain as her body responded to the higher vibrations. She was on the brink of madness as more orgasms piled on top of one another.

She started paying attention to her surroundings again when the bike began to slow, striking gravel. Her panting was more audible without the motorcycle engine and wind whipping past to drown her out. Rapid breaths fogged the visor of her helmet.

The bike came to a stop on the side of the road next to an impressive view of the mountains and forested valley below.

She was limp against his back as the bike came to a halt. Small tremors ran through her body with every breath she took. He cut off the bike but her body hummed with the ghost of the intense vibrations.

Theo waited a moment before carefully peeling her hand off his chest. The kickstand came down and he slid off the bike. Removing his helmet revealed his messy brown waves. He spit out his gum onto the gravel and set the helmet down carefully.

As he walked around to her, he wore a shit-eating grin.

She glared at him, but it wasn’t effective with the helmet on her head. She yanked it off and Theo carefully took it from her, setting it on the ground next to his.

Her hair was a mess sticking to her sweaty forehead, her cheeks sporting a deep red blush, and her lips plump and swollen from biting them.

“You did that on purpose!” She spat, placing her hands in front of her on the seat to hold herself up.

He lifted his brows with a smirk.

“How many times?” Theo asked in a cool tone.

“What!?” She huffed, still glaring at her boyfriend.

"How many times did you cum on my bike? How many?" He took off his sunglasses and hooked them in his back pocket. He wouldn’t need them again tonight as the sun was setting. She could see the spark of excitement in his eyes.

"I…. I don't know.." she adjusted in the seat and felt how slick it was.

She was in a state and wanted him to be just as much of a frazzled mess as she was.

Her legs were like jelly as she tried to stand. She would not be embarrassed by the wetness she left on the seat, she refused.

Before she could get off the bike, Theo crouched down and looked at her at eye level.

His eyes looked almost predatory as his finger slid over her bare thigh. Her skin ignited with his touch as he moved up and up, pushing her skirt the farther he went.

She could feel the slickness all over her thighs and knew her panties were absolutely done for.

“How many?” His tone was serious, sending shivers down her spine.

She held her breath as his fingers reached the soaked fabric. He pushed where her clit was and her body jerked.

“I-I don’t know! …I lost count.” She trembled under his touch and gaze.

He hummed and a small smile tugged at his lips.

“Get off the bike, amore mio.” He raked his hand through his messy hair as he stood and waited for her.

She tried again but her legs were trembling so much it took her a moment. Her skirt was sticking to her thighs and she looked a mess.

Theo helped her, placing his hand on her waist and guiding her off the bike. Her feet slid on the gravel as he pulled her against his body.

“You made a mess of my seat.” His lips twitched in a smirk.

It was very obvious just how much of a mess she’d made thanks to the state of the dehydrated leather.

The world tilted and her chest was pressed down to the wet seat, ass in the air. She braced her hands on the bike to hold herself up.

Theo flipped up her skirt and tugged her panties down to her ankles. Then his mouth was on her and she gasped. He licked her wet slit eagerly, pushing her thighs apart to go deeper, to lick more of her. He latched his lips on her clit and he sucked hard.

She fell apart, legs trembling as she gasped his name. She ached, but the release by his toungue was well worth it.

He lapped at her until she was soaked anew, making her aching cunt quiver. She was a blubbering mess, writhing in the firm grip he had on her thighs. She hissed as he dug his fingers into her leg, pressing harder, keeping her in place. He held her apart and ate her out more lively than she’d ever seen.

Theo moaned against her pussy and she arched her back. His tongue felt like sin and she couldn’t form words.

"The way you taste…" Theo didn't comment further. He just hummed a satisfied sound.

A cool burst of air struck her dripping heat and she groaned at the loss of his mouth.

She faintly heard the sound of a zipper over her own hysterics. Then the thick head of his cock pressed against her wet aching hole and her whimpering became begging.

“Oh! Yes, please!”

“Gods,” He murmured

Theo pressed in and the blunt head of his cock popped inside her tight entry.

He took far too long to press his cock into her. She wanted to be filled, she was begging for it, dammit!

He sucked in a breath and grabbed her hips firmly. He pulled her body, forcing her to take him to the hilt as he stood completely still.

It was a snug fit and he waited a moment, lightly rocking his hips while her body accommodated him. Her feet slid on the gravel trying to find purchase.

Theo angled himself and then struck that one spot that counted. He wasn’t gentle with her, his thrusts were hard and fast as his fingers dug into her hips.

“I have every intention of fucking you until you scream.” His voice was gruff as he slammed home over and over.

She knew what he was capable of. He would absolutely fuck her until nothing else existed but his hand digging into her hips, his cock filling her pussy, and her voice horse from screaming in pleasure.

Thank fuck they were in the middle of nowhere on a lesser-known road. She wasn’t capable of caring a single bit if a van full of camera-caring tourists drove by at this moment and watched. She wasn’t herself and neither was Theo. He fucked her primally, rough and hard.

She had no idea how the strength of his thrusts hadn’t tipped over the bike, she certainly wasn't helping matters. Her walls fluttered with the relentless pleasure and Theo hissed. She could feel it… she was right there yet again.

“Cum,” He growled. He panted as he yanked her hips back in tune with his thrusts.

It was like a switch was flipped and she was flying, screaming, cuming so fucking hard around his cock. Her whole body shook from the force of the orgasm, the bike and Theo’s vice grip being the only things to keep her upright as he continued to fuck her.

His strokes were long and gentle as she rode out the last of her climax. She was almost sobbing, moaning in pleasure, and feeling the pain of just how overworked her poor pelvic muscles were. She was going to be sore for days.

She whimpered, catching her breath, and finally looked up to see the gorgeous view before them. Gods, she wished she cared, she really did, but he was picking up speed again. The wet sounds of skin on skin and her cries echoing were the only noises around.

She pressed her forehead to the seat and hung on for dear life. He pulled her hips to meet his thrusts and she was grateful. Her legs were so weak, there was no possible way she could do it on her own. She lived for the soft grunts that escaped him, his small moans and heavy breaths as he used her body to seek his own pleasure.

He squeezed her hips again, digging his fingers in hard. She couldn’t possibly cum again, but he reached around and started teasing her clit, and… fine! She guessed she could cum again, and, gods, it hurt so fucking good.

Her vision went blurry and her eyes filled with actual tears.

Theo's grasp tightened one final time, his hips meeting hers with a resounding slap. A moan escaped him, and he pressed his chest against her back, his heart racing as he gently rocked his hips.

Tears fell from her eyes and she tried wiping them off on her sleeve. It was too much from the start. All that was left of her mind was a ball of mush.

He panted into her hair as he caught his breath. Her heart pounded against the seat, blood rushing and throbbing behind her eardrums.

Finally, Theo released his bruising grip from her hips and rested his forearms on the seat, caging her in with his arms.

A quiet moment passed over them as they caught their breath. Theo began leaving soft kisses all over the back of her neck. He nipped behind her ear, making her tremble once again.

Wetness started cooling on her thighs as they settled there. She wanted nothing more than to be back at home in her bed with him, curled up and falling asleep in his arms.

Theo exhaled and stood up, pulling out of her more carefully than usual. She nearly fell to her knees but he caught her. He chuckled, pulling her close, his arm wrapping around her waist as he glanced down at her. His chest rose and fell rapidly, a smile playing at the corners of his lips.

She adored the way his brown waves clung to his forehead, and his cheeks displayed a delightful rosy hue. While he wasn't as disheveled as she was, it was still satisfying to see.

“Think you can survive the ride back?” He gently kissed her forehead.

“Do NOT do that thing again!”

He laughed and picked up her helmet off the gravel. “Fine, fine.” He smirked.

“How did you even figure something like that out!?” She took her helmet from him.

“One of the guys mentioned that a bike could rev at just the right frequency for-”

“Okay, okay,” She cut him off. Of course it was his friends. They were always giving him the most insane advice. She glared at him for good measure before putting her helmet back on, making sure it was the last thing he saw.

He threw her a rag from his back pocket for her to clean herself, then picked up her panties from the ground, swiftly tucking them into his jacket pocket.

Theo smiled wider and kissed the forehead portion of her helmet before placing his back on.

“…So romantic,” She said in a monotone voice, taking the rag to her thighs then to the seat.

He observed as she cleaned up, resting his arms on the bike handles before pointing to her inner thigh. “Missed a spot.”

She smacked his arm away. “Start the bike, Asshole!”

His laugh rumbled from under the helmet, then the bike roared to life.

.

.

.

A|N: I like how the first words she says are the entire theme of the fic. That was a total accident.

Thank you for reading!

If you recognize the story, I wrote this for Seb a while back as well. It’s also inspired by a fic I read 5 years ago.

[battinscn]

I COULD NEVER NOT LOVE YOU — theodore nott x f! slytherin! reader

CONTENT WARNING: none, does mentioning sex need a warning??

SUMMARY: theodore nott is a self sabotaging selfish bastard. he jumps to conclusions too quickly and is too hot headed for his own good. you never thought you would ever be one to experience it first hand. yet, despite it all, you could never find it in you to truly hate him.

A/N: i vanished off the face of the planet and here i am back again. i was already planning to write a fic like this when i looked through my ask box and found this request. it doesn’t follow it exactly to a t, but i hope this is a good read nevertheless. also, i felt like it’s important for me to say that i always write my reader with as few physical attributes as possible. growing up, most books i read were of white females and it didn’t make me feel represented. as such, i try to be as inclusive as possible, and sometimes write taboo topics as well. anyway, tangent aside, if ur seeing this, i love u and u matter.

*not proofread cus im lazy but i’ll do it soon

WC/ AVG. READING TIME: 4562 words/ 23 minutes

return to the theodore masterlist here

YOU COULD ALMOST feel a pair of eyes on you as you woke up that morning. peeking an eye open, you realised you were right.

‘hey, handsome,” you grinned cheekily and theodore, who was looking at you with a glint in his eyes, supporting his body by resting on his elbow, gave you a soft smile in reply.

you shifted between the sheets and turned your body to the side to have a better look at him, propping yourself up in your elbow like he had and resting your head on your hand.

“staring, aren’t we?” you teased him.

theodore groaned as you noticed the tip of his ears go red. he buried his face between the crook of your neck to hide his blush.

you had slept over in his dorm room after last night’s activities since only you could visit his dorm and not the other way round.

ever since you and theodore started shagging as ‘just friends’, you had created a list of rules of sorts to prevent any conflicts from rising between your purely sexual relationship.

you and theodore had been close friends for years and you didn’t want anything to jeopardise that.

however, there was once when you were far too tired to make the trek back to your dorm and just slept over out of convenience. but one night led to another and here the both of you were, saying a big fuck all to the stupid rules you created months ago.

theodore picked his head up from your neck, “hey, doll?”

“hmm?” you hummed.

“d’you want to stop seeing other people for a while,” theodore suggested, a look of anxiousness on his face.

“yea?” you raised an eyebrow, the smile on your face relieving some of theodore’s nerves.

“yea,” he whispered lowly.

his eyes trailed from the hairs framing your face down to your chapped lips.

“okay,” you replied in a whisper as well, not wanting to ruin the peacefulness that had settled in the dorm room.

you jut your lips out as a silent request for a kiss and theodore met you in the middle. it wasn’t lustful like the kisses the previous night had been.

the kiss was sweet and you never wanted it to end. however, it was quickly short-lived when you were interrupted by the door of the dorm swinging open.

in walked in adrian pucey, a towel around his bare torso and his hair damp, presumably from the shower he had just returned from.

and yea, sure theodore was well fit, but adrian pucey was absolutely ripped.

your eyes naturally scanned adrian’s body as he walked into the dorm room, shutting the door behind him.

theodore immediately noticed this and placed his hands over your eyes, “oi! pucey! put a bloody shirt on would ya?”

adrian rolled his eyes with a knowing smirk and waved theodore off, putting his uniform on.

“bloody knob,” theodore muttered under his breath which resulted in you letting out a chuckle, knowing that theodore and adrian were best mates and this was just the way they were.

you grabbed onto theodore’s wrist and pulled his hands away from your eyes, kissing his palm as you did.

“pucey’s ugly anyway, you’re better looking,” you assured him in a teasing manner.

“hey!” adrian picked his head up from his crouching position where he had been going through his trunk for his textbooks for the day.

“the missus had spoken, sorry pucey,” theodore flipped adrian from across the room.

“alright, i best be off now. i’ll see you in the dining hall?” you swung your legs over theodore’s twin bed and slipped on your shoes.

theodore nodded his head and walked you to the door, his hand on the small of your back.

“bye,” you said, pressing a kiss to his lips before making your way towards to steps that led to the common room.

theodore shut the door with a dopey smile on his face.

“awh mate, you are pussy whipped,” adrian shook his head, which earned him a pillow to the face.

that was thursday and it was now saturday. you were having breakfast with theodore and adrian in the great hall.

“doll, d’you want to go to hogsmeade later?” theodore asked.

“oh…no thank you, i’ve got arithmancy homework to catch up on,” you shook your head sorrily.

“that’s alright,” he kissed the side of your head and kicked adrian under the table to get his attention, “butterbeer later?”

“nah, i’ve got detention with snape. you could ask bletchley and them lot?” adrian suggested and theodore agreed, deciding he would check in with the rest of the quidditch members if they wanted to visit the three broomsticks together.

miles, theodore, terry, and graham downed their drinks and chatted about school and whatnot.

“hey, you lot mind if we go to spintwiches? i need new gloves,” miles asked the table and the other three boys agreed.

the four boys made their way to spintwiches and walked through the aisles. they paid for their shopping respectively and began the walk back to the assembly area to take the carriage back to the castle.

“ah shit, i left my wand spintwiches,” theodore patted his pockets and realised that he had left it by the till of the shop, “you guys go ahead, i’ll hurry back and go get it.”

when theodore was walking towards the sporting goods shop when he saw you through the windows.

you were talking animatedly to someone. he was confused at first as to why you were in hogsmeade considering how you said you were busy but he brushed it off as you having finished your homework early.

he smiled to himself as he saw you throw your head back in a laugh, thinking how that must be the most adorable sight he has ever laid his eyes upon.

as he walked down the cobbled pavement closer to the shop, he realised that the person you were talking to was none other than adrian.

he saw you hold adrian’s hands in yours before dropping it and flinging your arms around his neck to pull him into a tight hug.

at your affection towards his best mate, all theodore saw was red. he couldn’t believe his eyes.

he could almost scoff at how the two people he cared most about the world would betray his trust like that.

never would he have thought that you would go behind his back and fuck around with his best mate of all people.

and never would he have thought that adrian, his friend of seven years, would go about and mess with the only girl he had ever felt this deeply for.

you and theodore had even agreed to stop seeing other people this morning.

theodore’s jaw ticked as anger and hurt surged through his veins.

fuck you. and fuck adrian pucey.

if only theodore had stepped into the actual shop, where he would have found out that you were actually talking to two people, and not just one. the other person you had been talking to was not visible as they had been standing behind a stack of boxes by the front windows.

theodore’s birthday was tomorrow and you were stumped on what to get him.

you then remembered that he had been complaining about how he was sick of using the school-issued brooms.

as such, you decided that you would gift him his own broom for his birthday.

but if you wanted it to be a surprise, you couldn’t get it if you were out with him. thus, you had to come with with a half-arse excuse on why you couldn’t visit hogsmeade with him that saturday.

you left the castle and hopped onto one of the last few carriages leaving hogwarts, less you run into him and ruin your planned surprise since most of the students would have returned to the castle by now.

you discreetly made the way to spintwiches and whilst paying for the broom and discussed with mr turner, the owner of the shop, how you wished for the broom to be wrapped, the bell that was attached the the entrance chimed.

you and mr turner turned your heads towards the entrance and you saw adrian and charlotte walk in, hand in hand.

“hi!” you waved to the couple and walked towards them.

charlotte, adrian’s girlfriend of almost two years now, was in hufflepuff. they both had the mutual decision to keep their relationship to themselves to save the hassle of the backlash they knew they would receive for their interhouse relationship. especially since how both of them were on their house’s quidditch teams.

in fact, you weren’t even supposed to find out. you had been doing your prefect rounds for the night when you had caught them in a very languid kiss by the courtyard. the couple trusted you in keeping their secret and you were honoured to be the only person who knew.

you kept that secret with your whole heart, not even telling theodore.

“hiya y/n,” charlotte waved back.

the couple told you that they too, had caught the last few carriages since they knew that was when hogsmeade was the least busiest. charlotte was due of new quidditch socks and that was why they found themselves in spintwiches.

you then told them how you were purchasing theodore’s birthday gift, hence why you had lied about not being able to visit hogsmeade with him today.

“we’ve been together for ages and never once have you gotten me a broom. i would look good on a firebolt wouldn’t i?” adrian teased charlotte.

rolling her eyes, charlotte whacked theodore in the back of his head.

you threw you head back as you laughed at the interaction.

as charlotte placed her hand back towards her sides, you noticed the glittering of a ring on her finger.

“no…” your jaw dropped as you quickly grabbed charlotte’s hand, inspecting the diamond ring.

“no fucking way…” you dropped charlotte’s hand and picked adrian’s up to look at the silver band on his left hand.

“you guys!” you squealed and flung your arms around adrian’s neck hugging him tightly. after letting go, you turned to charlotte to give her an equally loving hug.

“oh my god!” you squealed once more for good measure, “when did this happen?”

you and charlotte chatted all the way back to the castle, you forcing her to tell you everything about how adrian proposed and how they planned on hacing their wedding in december after you graduated in june. poor adrian was stuck lugging both of your shopping as he trailed behind you two.

theodore wasn’t anywhere to be found during dinner and you were utterly confused.

but as you scanned the rest of the slytherin table, you realised that none of the boys theodore had gone to hogsmeade with were at dinner either.

you guessed that they have gone for some extra quidditch practice, since it was not uncommon for them to do so.

you walked back to the dorms with your friends hoping to catch theodore on the way back or in his dorm room.

much to your dismay, even when you had briskly walked past the empty quidditch pitch and knocked on his dorm door only to have graham tell you that they hadn’t seen theodore since he separated from them at hogsmeade, you still had not found theodore.

it was getting rather late and you decided to turn it for the night so you could wake up early tomorrow and surprise theodore with his birthday gift.

you woke up on theodore’s birthday bright and early, freshly showered and dressed with the handwritten card in one hand and the nicely wrapped broom in the other.

you knocked on theodore’s dorm door excitedly and was greeted by montague.

“y/n?” graham furrowed his brows and the greeting sounded more like a question than a statement, “aren’t you there..?” the brunette pointed to theodore’s bed.

you were too excited and barged into the room that you hadn’t registered what graham had said.

the commotion had woken theodore up, he rubbed at his eyes and leaned against his headboard. his sudden movement caused the y/h/c girl laying next to him to shift awake as well.

the moment your eyes laid upon the disheveled girl in theodore’s bed who was definitely not you, you dropped the gift and card onto the floor the wind knocked out of you.

your lip quivered and hot tears filled your eyes, ���what the fuck, theodore?”

theodore frowned at you and stood up from his bed, a scoff leaving his lips.

“you don’t get to fucking cry and throw a pity party y/n. you were the one who was fucking around with pucey behind my back first. fucking slut.” theodore spat with more hatred laced in his voice than you had ever heard.

not once had he spoken to you in this manner and it felt like lacerations burning onto your skin as you were put on the back end of his tone.

“w-what are you talking about?” you croaked.

“don’t play coy, doll,” the usage of the pet name would’ve made butterflies erupt in your belly if it weren’t for the sarcasm in theodore voice, “i saw you with pucey at spintwiches yesterday after you lied to my fucking face. do you take me as some type of joke? am i stupid to you?”

“what? adrian and i-we aren’t-” you spluttered, trying to explain what really happened but you didn’t want to out charlotte and adrian, it wasn’t your place to do so.

“fuck off y/n. fuck you.” theodore sneered.

your eyes drifted to the girl in theodore’s bed as she let out a loud laugh at theodore’s words.

you dashed out of theodore’s dorm in a heap of tears.

adrian, who was leaning against the open door frame had witnessed the whole interaction.

“mate, what the fuck? adrian shoved theodore in the shoulder.

“fuck you pucey,” theodore went in for a punch when adrian quickly stopped it, since he was physically bigger than theodore after all.

theodore struggled against adrian’s grip but he was far weaker to break out of it.

“you done?” adrian glared and when theodore was too tired to resist, pucey pushed theodore back onto his bed so that he was sitting on the edge of it.

adrian snapped his fingers at the girl who was still laying amongst the green accented sheets, “out,” he demanded, pointing towards to door.

adrian was usually a respectful gentleman. but he was so annoyed at the way theodore had berated you that the girl that theodore had shagged last night was the last thing on his mind.

“you’re a dickhead, you know that?” adrian scolded as he dug through his nightstand and pulled out what he was looking for.

“yesterday, my fiancée and i were at hogsmeade when we ran into y/n and spintwiches. she was congratulating us.” adrian held the wedding band in front of theodore’s face, “y/n was the only person who knew about charlotte and i and she did a damn well job keeping the secret for our sake.”

“y/n was there trying to get you a broom to surprise you today with. but you were too far in your head being a grade a asshole and made a stupid assumption.” adrian shook his head disappointedly, “i don’t even know who you are anymore.”

adrian threw on his jumper and left the dorm, making the effort to slam the door behind him.

“oh, lovey,” charlotte consoled you and ran her hands down your hair soothingly.

you had been running through the corridors when charlotte had spotted your red eyes and hunched figure. she pulled you into a more secluded corner of the corridor.

in broken sobs and a heaving chest, you explained what had happened with theodore.

you felt like your heart had been torn out of your body and stomped on.

you thought that theodore would have trusted you enough to not jump to conclusions that quickly. not only that, he had betrayed you trust.

you didn't think you could ever forgive theodore for what he had done.

the next few days, charlotte and adrian took turns looking out for you since they didn't want to be seen together.

theodore had been harassing your dorm mates and your slytherin friends but you had begged them not to tell him of your whereabouts. luckily, they were more trustworthy than theodore by the tenfold.

you also hadn't returned to the slytherin common room to prevent running into theodore. since most of the students in your year were either gryffindor or slytherin, it meant that charlotte's dorm had multiple unoccupied beds.

the hufflepuffs didn't seem to mind your presence in the hufflepuff commons either. damn their naturally good-hearts.

she had nicely offered you a space in her dorm which you accepted with no hesitation. your dorm mates had kindly packed your things for you so you had clothes to change into and the proper books for your lessons.

the hardest part of avoiding theodore was during lessons. luckily, theodore was not in most of the classes you had chose to taken, save for potions and charms since they were the two most common subjects.

you would purposefully enter the classroom a few seconds before the class started to prevent theodore from trying to talk to you. and once you were dismissed by the professor, you would stuff your books and parchment in your book bag and rush out the classroom where adrian or charlotte would already be waiting for you.

despite your fruitful attempts, there was once when adrian was held back while in transfiguration by mcgonagall and you had to walk to your next class alone.

you ducked your head and weaved through the crowded corridor of students when you felt someone tug on you wrist, halting your movements.

"y/n, please," the familiar voice begged.

you let out a sigh and turned around, trying to pull your wrist out of theodore's grip.

your eyes were averting his gaze as best as you could, theodore's askew tie suddenly the most fascinating thing in the world. the last thing you wanted was to look into theodore's hazel eyes.

truthfully, that was the reason why you had been avoiding him like the plague. you knew that just once look into his soft eyes that you would forgive him in a heartbeat.

you had always harboured feelings for theodore since you had first became friends in first year but he was such a close friend that you always dismissed it as just a schoolgirl fancy.

becoming friends with benefits with theodore allowed you to connect with him in the most intimate way humanly possible. you got to see a different side of the brunette that you had never seen before.

and fuck, you found yourself slowly falling for him on a deeper level.

"i'm sorry, i'm so fucking sorry. i didn't mean what i said, what i did i just-"

"stop, just...stop," you cut him off before you could continue. the tremor in your voice was enough for theodore to let go of your wrist and reluctantly let you walk away from him.

the last time theodore attempted to talk to you was a week ago when you had walked away from him and he willingly let you.

he was losing sleep over the guilt that was festering in his soul.

theodore hadn't opened the present you had gifted him nor had he read the handwritten card. he just couldn't bring himself to.

theodore sat on the edge of his bed leaning forward with his forearms resting on his knees, the card you had written in his hands.

with a deep inhale, theodore opened the card and read your neat penmanship that littered the inside.

if there was anything theodore did not do, was cry. theodore nott was not a crier. he never cried. in fact, not counting when he was an infant, theodore nott had only cried twice in his life.

once, when his mother had passed in his fourth year and the time he fell down the steps in his home and landed on his tailbone. (not that he would ever admit to anyone that he cried after falling on his bum)

and despite theodore nott's seemingly inability to express his emotions through tears, here he was, crying like a little bitch over your card.

he cried over the guilt of it all. he cried over how you were the most perfect thing in his life and he had let you slipped through his fingers.

it was evident that you had poured your heart in the card, your words as sweet as the kisses you would wake him up with. your words filled with as much passion you put into everything you do.

in his world full of chaos, other than adrian, you were his stagnant. not once in the seven years you had been friends had you ever done anything to theodore for him to think otherwise.

theodore had no idea what made him jump to the conclusion that you had been seeing adrian behind his back. maybe it was feeding into the insecurity that everything good in his life would always come to an end (his mother's death was what started it), not that that was an excuse for his actions.

if he could take back what he had said to you and never slept with what's-her-name, he would in an instant. the heartbroken and crestfallen expression on your face during that morning on his birthday was enough to haunt him for the rest of his life.

sure it was selfish for him to want to earn your forgiveness, but theodore nott was a selfish bastard through and through.

that was how he found himself by the hufflepuff common rooms, knowing that was where you had been staying.

"y/n!"

you had heard someone shout for your name from the inside of charlotte's dorm. at first, you had thought you were hearing things. but after the third of fourth yell, you stepped out of the dorm to see what was going on.

there theodore nott was, in all his stupid, dumb, handsome, glory, trying to tumble up the stairs towards the female hufflepuff dorms.

each time theodore managed to barrel up the third step, the stairs turned into a slide and he would slip back into the common area.

the ruckus of his actions were clearly bothering the other hufflepuffs that were trying to study. as much as they were trying to hide their annoyance towards you, it was clear that they were starting to regret ever letting you enter their common room.

wanting to save yourself from being exiled from the hufflepuffs, you skipped down the steps two at a time and pulled on the hood of theodore's cloak.

"what it wrong with you?" you shoved theodore in the shoulder harshly.

"i'm sorry y/n, i'm so sorry. i fucked up, i'm sorry. shit, i-i love you."

"what?" you stared at him in disbelief.

"i love you, y/n. i should've never done what i did. i was an asshole to you and fucked it up like always. i love you so much.”

“i hate you,” you shoved him in the chest once, twice, and a third time for good measure.

“i hate you, i hate you, i hate you,” tears brimmed your eyes at theodore’s confession as you barrelled your fists into his chest.

theodore, being much stronger than you, barely flinched at your actions, “i know my love, i know. i’m sorry, i’m so sorry, i’ll never do it again.”

your punches became weaker as you sobbed, crumbling in theodore’s arms as he held you by your forearms.

“y-you can’t just say you love me and make everything o-okay.” you hiccuped, tears damping theodore’s tie and shirt.

“i know, my love.” theodore pulled you further into his chest, one hand wrapped around your shoulders while the other cradled the back of your head.

“i hate you. i h-hate that i love you. i hate that…that even after what you said—w-what you did, that i still love you.”

theodore kissed the crown of your head as he let your sobs subside, guiding you to sit on one of the benches by the elves’ quarters.

he kneeled down in front of you in between your legs, holding your cold hands in his.

“i’ll do anything to make it up to you, to show you that you mean so much to me—because you do. you mean the absolute world to me. i know we said months ago that we could see other people but there hasn’t been anyone else-”

you frowned, about to pull your hands away because no, there has been someone else. that girl you had caught him in bed with the morning of his birthday. theodore noticed you apprehension and held onto your hand tighter, but not tight enough to hurt.

“o-other than her. but it’s always been you, y/n. it will always be you. i’ll do anything, i swear. anything…” he trailed off, almost in a beg, kissing the back of your knuckles delicately.

“i didn’t like the way you made me feel that morning. i never want to feel that type of hurt anymore.”

“and you never will, i promise you. i’ll treat you like a goddess.” theodore rambled, relieved by the insinuation that you would let him into your life again.

“i don’t need to be treated like a goddess, theodore. i just want to be treated that way i deserve.” you corrected him.

“you deserve the world and i’ll do everything i can go make sure i do.” theodore affirmed.

all your resolve had dissipated as you stared into his warm eyes filled with so much love.

you nodded and thought about what you wanted to say before settling on “but we can’t just pick up where we left off. we start right at the beginning, friends first.”

“friends first.”

read y/n's card to theodore here

A/N: so…what do we think? i was so tempted to leave this angsty but i couldn’t do that to you guys.

join my taglist here!

tags: @lilytoyourjames @pattnscn @haroldpotterson @one-direction-harry-potter1 @fairydxll @xangel76 @grandnerdsheep-blog @eleventhboi @bluetreecloud20 @momoewn @chicchanelcigs @milkiangl @bubs-world @cameronsdruthers @valluvsu @jameslover @lexitheartistt @loopy-lupinn @fancyfantasy70s @lily-rose-the-ravenclaw @xoxoluna

[ksanara]

Madness playing with you

Theo took the pen and, blowing a stream of smoke into the darkness, began to write.

NSFW 🔞

I meet this crazy echo everywhere. An echo of pain, divided into millions of fragments, individually multiplied by another million. They say time heals all wounds. I declare - this is not true at all! Time heals only if it concerns imminent death. Leaving your own body means leaving your disease. When your soul aches about a specific person, when you muffle the beats of your own heart just to catch her breath. When in the darkness of your bed only one mirage of voluptuousness jumps on your tense flesh, the only healing can only be unconditional possession.

A heart that found a wet cradle in the warmth between her legs. How not to go crazy? God, I've already did. She occupied every nerve of mine! Why did the universe make this mistake on me? Why did Nott have to fall in love with Hogan? A stupid, lustful Romeo who wants to greedily rape Juliet until the end of his days. A Shakespearean tragedy with elements of an erotic thriller... Not a fairy tale at all. The adventure of a love-crazed purebred aristocrat... Soon, my Sophie... Soon I will bite you off the world and swallow you. Every piece of you will feel my breath, the needles of my love. And most importantly, drops of sperm in your blood, burning the brand of my name on you.

Be sure that I will color my ecstasy with every particle of your scent, I will be a dog caressing your angelic wings. Sex for us is the only possible outcome in this poetry of insanity. Entrance to reality, where another, secret Theodore is waiting for you.

A piece from my fanfic about Theodore falling madly in love.

[avalynlestrange]

Theodore Nott

Masterlist

⳾*⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*⳾

⳾*⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*⳾ Back to The Library (Main Masterlist) To The Kitchen (WIPs)

Send me an owl post if you have a fic request.

Tone: ♡ Fluff ♥ Angst ❥ Suggestive Themes

⳾*⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*⳾

✿ Foolish One | x reader with Draco Malfoy x Reader | ♥ One-Shot Short Story Songfic |

Summary: In which you know you’re being foolish in liking Draco but will you finally learn your lesson? Theodore certainly hopes you do.

✿ In My Head | x reader | ♥ ♡ One-Shot Songfic | Requested |

Summary: In which Theodore Nott is the man of your dreams. Literally. Who is his?

✿ Love Story | x reader | ♡ One-Shot Songfic | Requested |

Summary: In which Theodore surprises you with Eras Tour tickets.

⳾*⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*⳾

✿ Wallpaper Set One

Theme: the four seasons and Taylor Swift lyrics

[bis-art]

Theodore Nott and Hermione Granger

for fanfic "Spasm" by FlackyElly

(published on ficbook)

[mastermindmiko]

The Malfoy sister (Part 4)

Pairing: Harry Potter + Fem!reader

Word count: 3015

Summary: Winter break is approaching and with the prospect of being away from you, Harry’s emotions go crazy causing him to make some decisions that he will later regret. 

Trigger warnings: shouting, underage alcohol consumption, kissing, affection?, arranged marriages, running away, fighting, jealousy, crying. 

Part 5 and my masterlist

Requests are open

“Y/n Narcissa Malfoy! You better have a great ass explanation on why and how Granger just came and told me that Potter claims that you have the tightest pussy in the world!” You could see him visibly gag at the last part. You turned around on your chair, abandoning your potions homework. Theo watched the interaction curiously from behind you as he tilted his head to the side in agreement to Draco’s statement.

“First of all, spitting his name won’t make him hate you more. He can’t, he’s not in the room. Second of all, don’t ever talk about my pussy again. Lastly, what the fuck?” You said. Theo started sipping on his peppermint tea as he listened attentively.

Draco marched towards you and said, “Yeah, Granger told me that while Potter was celebrating his win, he got drunk. Apparently drunk Potter is very affectionate about you. He got all mushy. I do not want him to be all mushy about my sister!”

He screamed that last part while slamming his hand on the desk. He was fine with it until it actually happened. The desk shook and Theo’s tea fell. He became sad because he found for the first time the right tea to honey ratio. It was the best tea he’s ever made.

Draco was mad, furious. He thought that once Potter put your father in prison therefore forcing him to take the mark, your feelings would end. You didn’t know this, no one did; but Draco had a conversation with the Dark Lord after he got the mark. He told him about his task and what would happen if the task wasn’t completed. You’d die and so would your mother. He was told not to tell, not that he would’ve anyway. The entire school knowing, once again about you and Potter would complicate the situation greatly.

“Draco, I care about you more than anyone; but I-” You hesitated and you sucked in a breath before you said, “I love him a lot, and I think that I should at least do something for me in my life at least once. If the roles were switched and it was you and Astoria, wouldn’t you have done the same. We’re careful, I promise we are.”

Theo was enjoying the show even without the tea. He knew about your feelings and excursions. It was fun to watch Draco react to it all. Draco nodded along with your explanation, and he let out a huff. He folded his arms and rolled his eyes. “Don’t let anyone see you.”

You had a smile on your face and you hugged him while you chanted “Thank you thank you thank you!” He wrapped his arms around you and he said “I’m serious.” You pulled away and you smiled at him again. You returned back to your chair and you started dipping your quill in ink. “Use protection.”

Theo choked on air as you groaned at Draco’s statement. “Stop. Stop.”

He shook your head and he said “I’m not kidding.”

“Ugghhh. Why do you do this to me? You never said anything with Theo.” You said and Theo’s eyes flickered to Draco and he pushed his chair from the desk. He lifted his hands into the air and he started to stand up. He didn’t want to be pulled into this.

“Yeah because having a baby Nott wouldn’t be bad. You were already almost engaged, but having a baby Potter-” You cut him off by screaming and waving your hands around frantically. “Stop. Stop. Stop.” You shouted as he gave you the talk that you thought you had escaped from. Theo was dying of embarrassment and laughter in the background.

***

You sighed as you watched the sunrise. “It’s beautiful.” You whispered as you tighten your grip around Harry. He squeezed your hips in reassurance and he kissed the crown of your head. “Not nearly as beautiful as you,” he replied.

You blushed and you could feel the twitch of his lips from your hair. You could handle flirting, especially if it’s sexual but you could not take a single honest, kind compliment. He leaned down and nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck. His voice was already soft but it was muffled by your skin when he said, “I’m sorry about what happened with Hermione and Ron.”

He had the weight of the incident on his shoulders since it happened. He had a stern talk from Hermione and he replied telling her it was simply none of her business. Also, that instead of trying to ruin your relationship they should’ve been happy for him. He knew they were worried, not as much as last year with Voldemort plaguing his mind but worried. They were a bit relieved that he had the capabilities of loving something other than a book.

He pulled you over his body and you noticed for the first time how wet the grass was. Your body was flat on top of his. His hands played with the hem of your shirt while you played with his hair. “Don’t worry about it, just try not to tell the entire castle about my pussy next time, or you might not be able to keep me then.” You winked at the end and he felt his cheeks heat up.

You brushed your hand over his cheek. It was the last day before winter break and you both stayed up in each other’s company. If he couldn’t have spent summer without you, now his heart burns with the idea of not seeing you for a long time. He had no idea what he was going to feel that summer. Your hand trailed towards his chin and you tilted it upwards towards your own lips. It was an innocent kiss, you both had enough sex that day to last all of the break. He disconnected your lips and he said, “I found a new spell.”

You rolled off of him and you heard him chuckle. You leaned against the tree as you sat up right and Harry copied your position. Your shoulders were touching and he held your hand. You fiddled with the ring on his finger. It was silver and if you looked inside it you would find your initials carved inside of it. He wanted to get you the same thing, but he knew people would inquire about it, so you decided it was for the best. It was a constant reminder that he was yours and you reminded him every second that you were his

He grabbed the book that was almost covered in snow from the tree above you both. You knew you had snow all over you and you saw Harry’s face covered in it. You enjoyed wiping away the snowflakes that landed on his eyelashes. The black lake was frozen in front of you both. Last night, at almost the exact same time as now, You both ice skated on it. Harry kept falling until his clothes were wet and because you kept laughing at him, he decided that he was in desperate need of a hug.

He opened the book on a page he had the side of doggy eared. You cringed at the page, but you didn’t care as much. The book was already old with scribbles and torn edges. He tapped the word sectumsempra. You furrowed your eyebrows and you said, “Don’t know it. What does it do?”

“Dunno.” He replied and he leaned his head on your shoulder. He wrapped his arms around your waist and he nuzzled into you like a bear. You laughed at him, but you couldn’t say that you didn’t feel the butterflies in your stomach. You told him he could check in the library, he told you he was too lazy. You chuckled and ran your hands through his hair. “I love you.” He whispered.

“You say that at very odd times.” You said as your fingers trailed down to the nape of his neck and you started playing with the short strands, occasionally accidentally tugging on them. He pulled your leg closer to him, he never felt like you were close enough to him. That’s how you so much time having sex, it seemed like every part of his skin needed to be on yours for him to feel safe and loved. He needed reassurance that you were there and you wouldn’t leave him. “I say it when I feel it.”

You hooked your leg around his thighs and you continued to play with his hair. You told him you loved him. He said who wouldn’t. You slapped his head. He sat in a few moments of comfortable silence. His head was on his chest and he could feel your heartbeat. He also loved your tits. He ran his hand up and down your back. The smell of his shampoo comforted you and he knew that. He made sure not to use any other shampoo.

He wanted to spend the rest of his life with you, but Hermione and Sirius had told him before how Purebloods loved arranging marriages. So he asked, praying that the answer would please him, “You don’t have an arranged marriage or anything like that, right?”

He heard you take a deep breath, and as the seconds passed without an answer, he started to become more sure that he wouldn’t like the answer. “Theo.” You replied and he didn’t need any more explanation. He pulled you closer to him, he couldn’t lose you. He couldn’t watch you marry someone else. He’ll never get over you. You’re perfect for him and even if you weren’t he doesn’t want anyone else. He needs you. “Can you break it off or something like that? Maybe have the other Malfoy marry him.”

You chuckled at his suggestion. He put it in to lighten the mood, he was breaking inside and you knew that. “I don’t think I can, and if I did, they wouldn’t let me be with the boy who lived.” he tried to exhale but his breath hitched and was uneven. He reached to scratch his scar. Something you noticed he did often. Often when something bad happened because of it or when he didn’t like what having it caused him. The place where it was more than not, red from his itching. You pulled his hand away and you pressed a kiss to where it was, “Hey, it’s not because of your stupid scar, it’s because of my parents. Don’t scratch like that. You get hurt enough as it is.” You said sternly.

He nodded his head but you knew that he didn’t believe it. He felt his eyes sting and he felt pathetic. He was glad to have his head buried in your chest because he wouldn’t want you to see him cry. He kept blinking his eyes to push the tears that wanted to flow out of his eyes. He took in a deep breath and he started to think of something, anything to fix this. “Run away with me.”

“What?” You asked, you weren’t sure if you heard him right.

“Run away with me.” He repeated. He looked into your eyes and they had so much hope in them.

“What?!” You repeated, this time out of shock.

“Run away with me. Not now of course. After we finish school, we’ll graduate and we’ll already have our trunks packed and we’ll leave to wherever we want. We both have enough money to last us fifty life times. Let’s do it. We’ll be together, away from everyone else. We’ll go anywhere you want, I don’t care where the hell I am, If I’m with you. You could pick a volcano and I wouldn’t say no.” He rambled and he grasped both your hands tightly into his.

“Harry, we can’t do that. We can’t just leave everyone and everything.” You tried to reason with him. He couldn’t just make life changing decisions out on a wim like this. He shook his head furiously, and he said, “No we can. We can. There isn’t anything to leave. After Hogwarts, we’ll have nothing. You even told me that you hate the manor, so screw it all. You can send letters.”

“I’m not going to leave my brother.” You said. Of course damn the stupid manor. You didn’t care about that piece of junk. You cared about your brother and about Theo. Your mother wasn’t always the most caring person, but you couldn’t leave her. “And what about you? You have the Weasleys, are you just going to leave them too?”

“I’ll send letters, you’ll send letters. Isn’t that enough?” Harry was pleading as you started to pull away from him. His eyes started to sting. He can’t lose you. He already lost so much. He can’t lose you too. You stood up and you said “No it isn’t. I don’t want to leave my brother or my mother or Theo.”

The tears in his eyes were lost. He stood up, his lips in a thin line. He saw red. He folded his arms and he looked at you for the first time like he did almost a year ago, with so much hate. You felt your heart beat up to your throat. “So that’s what this is about.” He chuckled humorlessly. He raised his voice to a higher octave and he said in an annoying voice, “Theo.” He rolled his eyes and you started to furrow your eyebrows. “You don’t want to leave Theo. You love Theo. You don’t even want me, you just want Theo. You’re a pathetic liar. Saying that you love me. Being forced to Marry Theo is better than being with a person you love.” Every time he said Theo’s name he mocked it. He raised his hands into air quotes when he said ‘love’.

Your mouth was wide open at his accusations. Your expression was filled with hurt and confusion. You were about to tell him that all he said was wrong and that you love him so much and you want to be with him more than anything. You wanted to reassure him that you only saw Theo as a friend, nothing more. You have already done this, Harry’s insecurities got the best of him at times. He didn’t mean this, you thought; he’s just angry right now.

“You know what, I never even loved you. All of this-” He waved his hands around frantically and his finger pointed between the two of you. “It’s just a joke. I never wanted to even do this.” You felt tears prick your eyes and your heart began to break. “Dumbledore told me to. Go distract y/n Malfoy, and try to get information out of her. If her father is a death eater then she must know something about Voldemort. That’s what he said to me.”

Crack.

“And I did. Nothing I did with you was real. It’s all just fake!”

Crack.

“Did you honestly think that I would love you? You’re pathetic!”

Crack.

Tears were streaming freely across your cheeks and down your neck. You pressed a hand to your mouth to try to contain the sob that wants to be heard. You bit your lip as your hands went around your body to wrap yourself in a hug. You wiped away your tears with your sleeve. You can’t believe that you were crying in front of somebody. “Well then, I guess I was right not agreeing to run away with you after all.”

You started running back towards the castle. Harry took deep breaths to control his anger. He watched as your body became smaller and smaller, more out of sight; and his eyes trailed after your footstep from the snow. He swallowed thickly as he remembered all the events from the past minutes and he realizes how much he fucked up. “Shit.” He whispers as he runs a hand through his hair. “Y/n! Come back please! I’m sorry! Y/n!” He shouted as he started to run after you.

You heard him but you couldn’t look at him. He made you feel like you were soaring this past term and then in less than a minute, he broke your heart. You didn’t know what you did to deserve this pain but a part of you wishes that it knew better. You bullied him along with your brother since first year, nothing you do can erase or turn back time. You heard his footsteps after you and how he was shouting your name. You hid behind a wall until you could no longer hear his shouts. You hadn’t slept in more than 24 hours and before that you didn’t sleep much either, you were exhausted. You walked back to the common room with tears in your eyes.

You pumped into someone and that person put both hands on your arms. You couldn’t see who it was from your blurry vision. They pulled you closer to their chest. It was Draco, you recognized him from his distinctive smell of mint. He kept smoothing your hair as he kept muttering “shh shh, it’s okay. It’s okay, I’m here. Alright?” You wanted to pull away and tell him nothing happened, putting up that stone cold façade you had; but you were tired and hurt. You didn’t pull away. You cried your heart out as he whispered calming words into your ear. You would never leave him.

[dralamys]

Dreomione🖤 . Glad to see more of this triad out there, because two are better that one ;3 . #dreomione #theodorenott #dracomalfoy #hermionegranger #slytherin #triadlove #dramione #theomione https://www.instagram.com/p/CfZ_gA-psO1/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[i-am-not-busy]

guys are people still into the whole theodore nott and slytherin boys thing cause i've got 8 chps that are sitting in my google docs rn. the fic mainly focuses on the slytherin house but idk if i should post it on wattpad or here lol

[slytherinslut0]

enemies w/ tension. | slytherin boy headcanons

author's note: feralism inside. readers be advised. eighteen plus.

- your enemies reaction to you bending over in front of them.

Draco Malfoy.

Draco Malfoy, as your enemy, was an absolute arsehat.

He’d purposely go out of his way to make your life a living hell whenever he bloody could.

The teasing and pranking was relentless; from accidentally spilling a particular shimmering potion on your white uniform blouse, rendering it perfectly see-through and exposing your bra to everyone in potions class, to pulling out your seat when you weren’t looking; he’d done it all.

He was an absolute menace, but you also knew there was something more to it than that, something possessive, something obsessive.

And you thought this for a multitude of reasons, but the main one being that he admitted he was into you while drunk at a common room party. which of course he denied the next day, and every other day since, choosing instead to be as annoying as ever.

but on this particular late evening, assigned as partners for a class project, you found yourselves alone together; the tension high and the banter relentless.

“Draco, please stop acting like a bloody child for five seconds.”

He’d roll his eyes, fighting a smirk. “Pleading for mercy are you? How adorable.”

You’d huff, staring at him with your arms crossed out of frustration as he held your quill above his head, just out of your reach.

“No, I’m pleading for you to stop being so goddamn insufferable. Give me my quill.” You’d hiss, entirely irritated.

Of course he’d just laugh, wetting his lips as he analyzed your frustration, revelling in the fact he’s so clearly gotten you going.

“Here.” He’d sneer, all before tossing it half-way across the room. “Go fetch.”

by this point, your blood was boiling, but you wouldn’t miss the glint in his eyes, the one that told you he was enjoying this a little more than he should be.

With a frustrated sigh, you pivoted sharply, seizing the perfect opportunity. As you closed in on your quill, a deliberate hair flip cascaded over your shoulder. Slow and sensuous, you bent at the hips, hands trailing down your sides, tracing the subtle sway of your body reaching for the quill. Picking it up achingly slow, on the ascent, you locked eyes with Draco over your shoulder, a sly smirk playing on your lips.

Draco’s typically poised demeanor faltered as he watched, an involuntary pause freezing his features. His steely gaze, usually cloaked in arrogance, softened into a momentary bewilderment.

The realization hit him like a revelation, and before you could even process it, he was up and out of his seat, one hand gripping the back of your head as he loomed over you.

“What the fuck was that?” His voice was torn, shredded. “Quite the fucking tease, huh?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You blinked, grinning. “I simply picked up my quill.”

His grip on the back of your head tightened, his pupils blown wide with lust. All his restraint was gone.

“You’re a fucking filthy little thing “ he leaned in closer, wetting his lips as he glimpsed yours. “Do that again and I’ll fuck you right here, right over this desk.”

Blaise Zabini.

Blaise fucking Zabini. Your enemy? You guessed you could call him that.

Mainly because all the guy ever did was sabotage your bloody love life. Every single damn chance he got.

And not even in a traditional asshole type of way, like by scaring dudes off or threatening their livelihoods--oh, no.

he scared them off by just being himself.

You’d known Blaise since first year, being that the two of you are from the same house and share the same friend group,

but, all the two of you have ever done, since day bloody one, was banter and bicker like a pair of fucking first years.

But as you matured, that friendly banter slowly transitioned into something more, something that neither of you seemed willing to acknowledge.

Something that you knew was about to boil over, at any given moment. and perhaps, that moment was today.

you sighed in frustration, watching as the guy you’d been talking to all night began to make his way through the crowd, finally taking the hint and excusing himself after Blaise had just ever-so-kindly invited himself into your conversation.

“Why do you have to ruin everything?” You took a sip of your drink, glancing at a smirking Zabini through narrowed lids. “Do you not want me to find love? Do you truly hate me that much?”

“I did you a favour, trust me,” he’d quip, flashing those perfect pearly teeth at you. “Dude would have bored you death.”

“The great Zabini, doing me a favour?” Your eyes widened, and you’d stifle an amused scoff. “Sure you’re feeling okay?”

As Blaise was poised to respond, you fumbled with your wand, inadvertently dropping it onto the wooden floor of the common room. Acting on instinct, you bent down to retrieve it, sensing Blaise's eyes lingering on your backside for an unnecessarily long moment as you slowly straightened up.

And when you finally looked over, you watched as he brought a hand up to his mouth, attempting to hide his grin as he shot you a knowing, wide-eyed glance, his body tensed as though he was fighting to restrain himself.

but after only a few seconds, he’d step closer, his hand grazing your arm as he leaned in.

“Excuse me miss, but I think you’ve made me drop something,” he’d pause, watching your eyes as you met his.

“I’m sorry?” You snorted. “what are you-“

he’d pull you closer, bringing his mouth toward your ear. “you made me drop my fucking jaw…”

you’d blink, caught off guard. “Blaise-“

“That ass is fucking perfect,” he murmured, wetting his lips. “cant hide it anymore, princess…i want you bad.”

Lorenzo Berkshire.

“Enzo-earth to bloody Enzo,” you emitted an audible groan, sinking back down into the chair beside him.. “can you please at least fucking attempt to help me?”

Enzo was uninterested in your pleas, truthfully, he was uninterested in anything you had to say. Paying no heed, he sat slouched, head nestled in his arms on the desk, seemingly oblivious to your presence.

you sighed. this was going to be a long damn class.

“Enzo, please? you can sleep after class-“

He grumbled softly under his breath, neglecting to raise his head from the desk. However, he pivoted it towards you, his bleary brown eyes meeting yours.

“can you knock it off?” his voice was a shredded rasp. it was clear he was exhausted. “don’t you ever get tired of hearing your own voice?”

You scoffed, irritation evident on your face. This was the typical Enzo conversational experience--a constant exchange of snark and jabs. It baffled you how a man so fucking attractive could also be so damn daft at times.

“i don’t, actually,” you huffed, trying to keep your composure. “but i certainly get tired of your ignorant attitude.”

that managed to get at least a chuckle out of him, even if it was a half-assed one.

“spicy today, i see.” his lids fluttered back closed as he muttered, “bite me, darling.”

“you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” you teased, your voice taking on an arrogant tone. “masochist.”

Enzo emitted a snort, a hearty chuckle escaping from his chest in response to your suggestive jab. Progress was evident, and you sensed the need to elevate things to the next level if you intended to secure his assistance.

Making sure his eyes remained closed, you slyly nudged your quill, sending it tumbling off the table and onto the floor. A mischievous smirk played on your lips as it hit the ground, and Enzo's eyes snapped open, fixing on you.

Maintaining the intense eye contact, you slowly leaned over in the chair, letting the seductive sway of your movements accompany your reach for the fallen quill.

you could feel Enzo's gaze following your every movement as you retrieved the quill with a lingering touch--all while a subtle, suggestive smile danced on your lips.

the second you straightened out, Enzo sat up straight, clearing his throat, tongue darting out to moisten his lips as he fought to collect himself.

“what’s the matter, Enz?” you quipped, unable to control yourself. “thought you were tired?”

“don’t play with me, angel.” he muttered, leaning closer. “please, Merlin, don’t fucking play with me.”

you’d snicker. “help me with this assignment and i’ll let you touch it.”

“deal.”

Mattheo Riddle.

you and Mattheo were enemies for one reason, and one reason only--his suffocating arrogance.

perhaps you were the only girl in the school who called him out on his bullshit, perhaps you were the only girl in the school who didn’t fall flat at his feet anytime he simply breathed.

and Mattheo, well, he wasn’t used to this type of treatment. and he certainly wasn’t keen on the fact he couldn’t get you in his bed with a mere second long glance.

of course, you were fully conscious of the fact he was hot as fuck, but your self-respect and dignity outweighed your sexual desires, which in turn, created fiery spats every-time the two of you were near each other.

And so, here you were, paired with him for a research assignment; the two of you alone in the library on a Sunday night, while he was totally hungover. And as insufferable as ever.

“Mattheo, give my fucking textbook back.”

He’d groan, rolling his eyes as he tucked the book under his arm, hugging it to his chest while seated sluggishly.

“Come and get it back, then.” He’d utter, smirking. “I promise I don’t bite…hard.”

You fought back a scoff. “You won’t be able to bite at all if you don’t cut it the fuck out…it’s almost ten o’clock we need to start this.”

Mattheo rolled his eyes, again, his tongue piercing the inside of his cheek as he pulled the book out from under his arm, and stood up, moving over to the bookshelf behind your chair.

With suffocating snark, he knelt down, shoving the book onto one of the shelves lowest to the ground, all before turning back around and smirking at you, crossing his arms over his chest and shrugging casually as he cocked an eyebrow.

“You told me to give it back.” The arrogance in his tone was nauseating. “You didn’t specify where.”

“First of all, that’s the wrong shelf,” you’d mutter, watching his eyes follow you as you pushed up from the chair, veering closer. “And second of all, you’re not funny.”

Mattheo poised for a sharp retort, ready to counter with his usual biting wit. However, his words stumbled into silence as he observed you drawing near.

With a swift, almost calculated movement, you bent at the hips to retrieve your book beside him. The fabric of your skirt dared to venture higher up your thighs than convention allowed, leaving Mattheo momentarily entranced and rendering his intended response obsolete.

But the second you straightened out, meeting his eyes, lips teasing a knowing smirk, he was on you.

Your back slammed against the shelf as he grappled your hips, shoving you back. he towered over you, his lips pressed directly against your ear as he growled;

“You shouldn’t be bending over like that in front of me,” his voice was torn, shredded, and he finished the sentence off with a sharp “ever.”

your heart was hammering. “Why not, Matty? Didn’t enjoy the show?”

“You have no idea what that ass of yours does to me,” he groaned, his grip on your hips tightening. “Every fucking day I imagine railing it--I imagine fucking the attitude right out of you…you should know better than to tempt me.”

Theodore Nott.

“Look at that,” Theodore quipped, his snarky grin practically evident in his tone of voice. “top of the class again. how does that L feel, huh?”

you grumbled, rolling your eyes so far into the back of your skull that you were seeing white.

“don’t get cocky, Nott.” you nearly snarled, the frustration seeping from your lips like breath. “it’s not a good look on you,”

theodore merely chuckled, knowing that was a complete fucking lie.

cockiness was an infuriatingly good look on him, and that was solely due to the fact that the objects of his arrogance were damn impressive achievements that could make anyone green with envy.

the man was unfathomably smart for an arrogant jock whose life was dedicated to being the best quidditch player to ever exist.

clucking his tongue, he’d shoot you a knowing glance. “you sound jealous, bella. what’s your grade?”

as he tried to lean over to glimpse your mark, you pulled your paper away from him, scowling. “how about mind your own business, hm?”

he’d chuckle. “never been known for that, have i?”

Before you could formulate a response, Theodore snatched the paper from your hands, leaning away to sneak a glance at your mark. Your groan of irritation resonated, signaling your exasperation with his antics.

Annoyed, you reached over to grab your paper back, your low-cut blouse exposing more of your chest than you’d intended.

As soon as Theodore’s eyes fixed on your chest, noting your breasts practically spilling out of your shirt, he paused; his fingers involuntarily releasing the paper without further fight, his lips parting and eyes darkening.

“merlin,” he’d breathe, his voice torn. “you trying to give a lad a fucking heart attack, wearing a shirt like that?”

your cheeks grew warm, his eyes not once breaking from your chest as you straightened back out in your chair, adjusting yourself.

“it’s rude to stare, Nott.” you’d say, fighting a grin. “didn’t your mommy ever teach you that?”

Theodore let out a low groan, edging his body closer to yours. His lips dangerously neared your ear, and he couldn't resist sneakily glancing down your shirt, unable to control his wandering gaze.

“it’s rude to tease, Bella,” he’d purr, his voice a dark murmur. “and truth be told, i can’t quite help myself…”

you huffed, unable to stifle your smirk. “sounds like you need a refresher in manners.”

“Oh, principessa,” he’d retort, his voice laced with need. “you can refresh me in anything you want as long as i can see more of those perfect tits of yours.”

Tom Riddle.

Tom Riddle was an absolute brilliant genius;

a good man. a private, by-the book type of student.

and if you were being completely honest with yourself, this was precisely why the two of you didn’t quite get along.

it seemed as though Tom had it out for you, as though he had some sort of personal vendetta to make your life a living hell.

At every opportunity, he wielded his prefect powers to land you in trouble for something. Perhaps, in all fairness, you should have known better than to sneak into the restricted section of the library or prowl around the castle late at night,

but, gods. couldn’t he just cut you some bloody slack for once?

Admittedly, you were afraid to cross Tom. You weren't eager to be on his bad side, but at the same time, you weren't prepared to entirely abandon breaking the rules and having fun just because you were aware he could catch you.

so instead, you learned his schedule, where he’d be and at what times, knowing how to effectively avoid him.

the man was a cunning genius, you knew he could effectively destroy you if he so pleased.

but, on this particular night, he was set to be patrolling the dungeons for at least another two hours, giving you plenty of time to sneak into the library and do a little research.

and everything was going extremely well, hidden in the restricted section, blanketed by the nights encompassing darkness, when you noticed your shoelace was untied.

Bending down to address the matter, a peculiar sensation tingled through your senses as you completed the task. A subtle shift in the atmosphere hinted at an approaching presence, and just as you straightened up, the hushed cadence of footsteps drew closer.

Before you could pivot to face the intruder, their looming silhouette materialized behind you.

A towering figure, their breath, warm and palpable, brushed over your ear as they leaned in, setting your nerves on edge.

“you shouldn’t be bending over like that in public,” the voice was a deep, dark rasp in your ear, the arrogance in the tone unmistakable. “some people might think you’re a little slut.”

heat rushed you, your thighs clenched. “and what if i want some people to think that?”

immediately understanding your suggestive remark, Tom wasted no time before grappling your hips and spinning you around to face him, one hand slithering around your lower back and grasping a palmful of your ass.

“filthy whore,” he’d growl, his voice shredded now, barely restrained. “breaking the rules and showing off that perfect ass for anyone to see…calls for punishment i’d say.”

his teeth found your neck and you whimpered, clutching onto him. “i’m-“

Tom pulled back, meeting your eyes. “bend over the desk, now.”

#sorry #i got extremely carried away #18+ au.

[talesofadragon]

𝗛𝗶 𝗳𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗱𝘀!!

𝗜 𝗳𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱 𝗮𝗻 𝗼𝗹𝗱 𝗱𝗿𝗮𝗳𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝗮𝗻 𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗮 𝗜 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝘁𝗼𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗮 𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗴𝗴𝗴 𝘄𝗵𝗶𝗹𝗲 𝗯𝗮𝗰𝗸! 𝗜𝘁'𝘀 𝗮 𝘁𝘄𝗼-𝘀𝗵𝗼𝘁 𝗯𝗲𝘁𝘄𝗲𝗲𝗻 𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗳𝗮𝘃𝗼𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗲 𝗦𝗹𝘆𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗻 𝗯𝗼𝘆𝘀🥰. 𝗜 𝗻𝗲𝗲𝗱 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗵𝗲𝗹𝗽 𝗳𝗶𝗴𝘂𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝘄𝗵𝗶𝗰𝗵 𝗿𝗼𝗹𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗴𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗗𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗼 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗧𝗵𝗲𝗼 𝗮𝘀 𝗶𝘁 𝗶𝗻𝘃𝗼𝗹𝘃𝗲𝘀 𝘁𝘄𝗼 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘁𝘀: 𝘁𝘄𝗼 𝗮𝗯𝘀𝗼𝗹𝘂𝘁𝗲 𝗴𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗹𝗲𝗺𝗲𝗻 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗼𝗻𝗹𝘆 𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗺 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗼 𝗶𝗻𝗱𝘂𝗹𝗴𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘀𝘂𝗿𝗿𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗼 𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿'𝘀 𝗰𝗿𝗮𝘇𝘆 𝘁𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗶𝗲𝘀. 𝗪𝗵𝗼 𝗱𝗼 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗸 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗿𝗼𝗹𝗲 𝗳𝗶𝘁𝘀 𝗯𝗲𝘀𝘁?

𝗖𝗼𝗶𝗻𝗰𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆, 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗮𝗹𝘀𝗼 𝗯𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗺𝗮𝗶𝗻 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗿𝘆. 𝗣𝗶𝗰𝗸 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗽𝗼𝗶𝘀𝗼𝗻(𝗲𝗱 𝗺𝗲𝗮𝗱 :))💚

[royalhausblack]

CHAPTER 9: DATING CHAPERONING

PROXIMITY YET SLOW BURN/JEALOUS DRACO

“What on earth are you doing here on a Friday night, Granger-Nott? We have places to be, people to see.” Hermione hated the new-found nickname that was granted to her by her best friend. But Ginny had stated that the only way to start feeling comfortable (or being open to the idea of other people knowing about her true identity) was for people to start calling her by her birth name.

“I’m working, Ginny.” Hermione stated a bit frustratedly. It’s been a long day, and she certainly did not need to feel overwhelmed by the fact that she had not been very social since she found out about her parentage.

“Oh, well no shit. Get up!” Ginny walked around her oak wood table and turned Hermione’s chair toward her. “Come on, we need to get you out of here and possibly pour a butterbeer or two down your throat to ease that ever-working mind.” Ginny grabbed Hermione’s hands and pulled her up.

[battinscn]

WILDEST DREAMS — au! theodore nott x f! reader

CONTENT WARNING: smoking/ non-smut smut, rly spicy but no actual sex. you get what i mean?

SUMMARY: you and theodore are friends who sometimes kiss…and fuck too. but that’s all it is right? just two friends who are sexually intimate.

A/N: this is based on this request. sorry this took so long.

WC/ AVG READING TIME: 2683 words/ 15 minutes

return to the theodore masterlist here

IT WAS A vicious cycle. theodore would ring you or send you a whatsapp in the middle of the night and an hour later, you would find yourself under him, out of breath.

it all started when you and theodore were going through breakups with your respective partners. theodore, being one of your closest friends since secondary school, was the one comforting you while also seeking out comfort for himself.

you were on your ninth shot of sambuca—not that you were even keeping track, it could've been your nineteenth for all you knew—and you and theodore were beyond plastered.

you were laughing about how messy theodore's hair looked and you reached forward to fix it. your face was then unknowingly close to theodore's, the proximity between the two of you so small that you could feel his breath.

"fuck," theodore cursed under his breath, eyes flickering from yours, to your lips, then back to your eyes.

you noticed how theodore bit on his bottom lip with his pearly whites, then freeing the flesh from the grip. this action caused his lips to be plumper than normal, a slight cherry red tint to it.

he looked way too fucking delicious and all you wanted for his lips on yours. with a fuck-all to the best friends boundary, you stepped over the treshold and made the first move of dipping your head forward.

theodore was quick to kiss back, not an ounce of hesitation in his head.

he pulled you onto his lap and you straddled him, neither of you stopping the bruising kiss.

you found yourself rubbing against him, the feeling so damn good you couldn't stop.

when you finally pulled apart, your lungs in need of oxygen, a string of saliva in wake of your distance.

"d'you wanna-" you asked.

"fuck...fuck yes, please," theodore rasped.

and that was how you and theodore started your arrangement. a friends with benefits of sorts, but that was normal right? because you and theodore were just regular best friends who fucked, sometimes. right...how normal indeed.

but what wasn't normal, was falling for your best friend. who you also happened to be porking.

you and theodore dated when you were in sixth form, a few years after becoming friends, but then broke up after how much you were fighting. it was never because you fell out of love.

so you guess that's why you always had a feeling you would never stop loving theodore. he was your first love, your first everything. part of you would always belong to him.

this feeling did not help, neither did it go away or diminish, when you and theodore started your casual sexual relationship.

you loved theodore, that you were sure of. but that was absolutely forbidden, considering how you and him had established a few main things when you agreed to this arrangement.

- consent was always required, this was a given and at no situation can be compromised.

- people had responsibilities, so don't expect either party to drop everything to be available.

- and most importantly, don't get feelings involved.

the feelings part was mainly because sex with your best friend was already such a bizarre thing in itself that talking about feelings would just mix up the whole mumbo jumbo you had going on.

sex was sex and friendship was friendship. for you and theodore, that line was never blurred.

you were wallowing in self pity, eating your nando's in your lounge while watching whatever sky tv had on. you were in love with your best friend, knowing that you were not allowed to.

and as if shagging him three times a week was doing anything to aid the ache in your heart. you could almost scoff at how pathetic your life was.

your phone vibrated underneath you, and the moment you glanced over to the blue screen to see theodore's contact, you knew what was up.

you sighed as you cleaned up the takeaway on your coffee table and headed into the bathroom to wash up and make yourself look slightly more presentable.

theodore rang you to open the main entrance for him and you did. a few minutes after, theodore was knocking on the door of your flat.

"hi," you greeted and let him in.

theodore was in his football kit, a look of exhaustion on his face.

"rough game?" you treaded carefully.

theodore played sunday league with a few of his mates from work and you whenever he had a bad game, would find himself in your apartment.

not much was spoken before you were naked under theodore.

it felt good at first, the feeling of being pleasured. but soon that feeling of pleasure quickly turned into uneasiness.

all you could think about your feelings for theodore and suddenly the room felt like it was spinning and the walls were closing in on you.

tears unknowingly flowed down your cheeks while theodore pounded in you. once he realised that his cheeks were uncommonly wet, he looked down to see your crying frame.

theodore quickly pulled out in a panic, “are you okay? what’s happened?”

theodore hurried to put his pants, then his shorts on and pulled you so you were sitting by the foot of the bed.

this was oddly out of character for you and theodore was freaking out.

theodore walked over to your cupboards and pulled out a tshirt, putting it on for you.

he then kneeled in between your legs, cradling your head.

“i-i still love you,” you choked out in a sob.

theodore sighed, shaking his head, “we talked about this before…”

“i-i know, b-but-”

“i knew this would happen, you promised it wouldn’t.” theodore let go of you as he looked around your room for his jersey.

you wrapped your hands around your knees as you watched a disheveled theodore scramble around to collect his things.

with one more disappointed look at you, theodore left your flat without a goodbye and you willing let him, knowing that nothing you could say would make him stay.

you only had yourself to blame. if only you hadn’t submitted yourself to him that very first night, you wouldn’t be in your bedroom at ten to eleven, heartbroken as ever.

for the next month, you lived in a slump. you would wake up, go to work, get home, cry, and sleep.

life was miserable and you felt like absolute dog water.

you and theodore used to go out and have dinner together at least once a week as just best friends, then have sex at either yours or his after as fuck buddies.

the sudden change from seeing theodore weekly to not even getting a message from him was taking a toll on you.

“please! you’ve been moping around for a month, just this one night.” your friend begged while you two had dinner.

katie was getting engaged and had booked a table at a nice restaurant.

you were initially fully ready to go and celebrate her engagement with her, but once finding out that theodore would be there, you quickly declined her offer.

that was the thing about being (ex) best friends with someone, no matter how hard you try, you would always remain in the same friend group.

“theodore’s going as callum’s (katie’s fiancé) guest anyway, you probably won’t even see him. i’ll promise to put you as far away from each other as possible.” katie clasped her hands together, “come on, pleaseeeee?”

“fine, but you’re paying for my taxi home when i get battered,” you finally caved in. no matter what happened between you and theodore, you still had to be a good friend for katie and be there for her.

“oh how lovely, you must wear that cute dress we got the other day. and you better let me do your makeup too, you know how much i love you in a dramatic wing…” katie’s words fell into deaf ears as you tried to rationalise having to see theodore again.

katie had left your flat a few hours ago to set up at the venue. that left you alone in your apartment, makeup done and hair in an updo to hold your curls.

you undid your hair and let the waves fall loose as you slipped on said, cute dress.

it was short and tight, but still modest enough for a nice dinner.

only needing your phone since you had everything you needed on it. your digital id and credit cards all synched to the device. thank you technology.

you ordered an uber and was on your way to nobu.

you walked into the restaurant and found katie and callum by a round table.

"hi cal, kate," you side hugged the happy couple.

katie invited you to sit next to her and you sat down. you were the first guest to arrive, and thus conversed with katie while you waited.

soon enough, people from your friend group had settled into their seats. and much to your chagrin, theodore was sat directly opposite you.

you avoided his eyes as much as you could, forcing your eyes on the menu in front of you.

"could i get you started on anything?" a waiter approached your table.

he took everyone's drink orders, stopping when he got to you.

"just a water, please," you closed the drink menu.

"not drinking?" he raised an eyebrow, referring to how eveyrone else around the table had ordered something alcoholic.

he was a rather good looking fella and you could not help but to grow a bit flustered.

"maybe later, want to enjoy the tuna tartar before i can't remember my own name," you handed him the menu.

"ah i see, very well," he winked at you before returning to the bar to get your drinks.

callum whistled from a seat away from you, "damn, fair play."

you waved him off with a giggle, choosing to ignore theodore's stare that was boring a hole into you.

halfway through you biting into your crispy rice, you felt katie lean over your shoulder.

"nott's been gawking at you the whole night," she whispered casually so as to not draw too much attention from aorund the table.

you chewed on the food slowly as you subtly shifted your eyes to look at theodore.

the moment the young man realised that you had caught his gaze, he quickly looked away to the painting behind you as if it was the most intersting art piece in the world.

katie looked at you with an eyebrow raised almost as if to ask "what's up?", you simply shrugged in return as you really had no idea what the hell was going on.

after being caught, theodore seemed to have stopped his insistent staring, or katie had put it, gawking, for the rest of the night.

you and another mutual friend were now being pushed by the rest of the table to down tequila shots, stating how the both of you were the bridesmaids and it would be a shame if you didn't.

"i actually hate you lot," you sulked as you held your breath and knocked the small glass back.

"god, that is strong," your friend commented while you relaxed your face from the scrunched up expression it was in.

"mhmm," you agreed with her as the rest of the table cheered quietly.

you were laughing along with katie when you once again caught theodore's eyes, but this time, he didn't look away. no, this time, he looked at you with a certain glint in his eyes, one you recognised from when the two of you were dating.

you gave theodore a confused frown, having enough of his weird behaviour he had been exhibiting since he had arrived. in response, theodore blinked hardly, shaking his head and clearing his throat.

"i'm going out for a smoke," he stood up and spoke softly to seemingly nobody, since everyone else were to engrossed in their individual conversations.

you quickly followed after him, not bothering to excuse yourself from the table.

you apologised to the doorman as you exited the fanciful doors onto the streets of southern london.

the harsh breeze that blew past caused you to quickly hug yourself tightly to conserve some heat as you searched for theodore.

your eyes landed on his figure that was leaning against a lampost a few meters away.

you tapped on his shoulder to catch his attention.

"oh, hi." he stuttered.

"could you not?" you asked irritatedly, shifting your weight from one leg to another from the cold.

"not what?" theodore tilted his head to the side.

"you know what i mean," you grumbled.

"no, i don't."

"stop looking at me like..." you tussled with you hair, carding your fingers through it, "l-like, i don't know.l, l-like you love me," you finally admitted after heaving a big sigh.

theodore reached forward to hold onto your forearm as he noticed how your lip quivered and your eyes become glossy.

you took a step back before theodore could touch you, "no, because i admitted that i loved you, that i still loved you and you walked away. you left me alone in my apartment without saying anything. you hurt me, theodore. you made me feel like a piece of shit, like i wasn't worthy. l-like i wasn't enough for you to love me."

you wiped your cheek with your palm and looked to the side to try and salvage any last piece of humility you had left.

theodore placed one hand on your shoulder and the other below your chin so you could look at him.

"i love you, i love you so much that it fucking hurts. i've loved you back when my voice was high enough to sing the spice girls and hit all the notes perfectly, and i love you now just as much as i did then."

"that's not what you said theo, why didn't you say all this when you left."

"because," he sighed, "i was so adamant on us not involving feelings in everything because when i was finally given the chance to love you more than a friend those years ago, i broke your heart. and seeing you hurt made me absolutely miserable. a-and i don't ever want to put you through that type of pain again. i wouldn't ever dare to break your heart, but i just can't put myself in a position where i could. i love you too much to see you hurt my love, so i pushed you away. i can't hurt you if we stay friends."

theodore sniffed and you stared at him sadly.

"so you broke my heart because you thought that was what was best for me?" you shooked your head.

"i only ever had best intentions for you, i love you."

"that wasn't a choice for you to make for me. i'm a grown person, i know what's best for me and what isn't. a-and you just made such an important decision for me." you wiggled out of his grasp, "you wanted to keep me from getting hurt but you did just that instead."

"i know, and i'm sorry. it was stupid and i'm sorry. i can understand if you hate what i did. but please, don't hate me, don't push me away, because i would be miserable without you."

"i can't," you scoffed.

"what?"

"i can't hate you theodore. i don't think i ever could even if i tried. i love you theo, i do, so much. and i think i deserve to experience love this hard too, don't you think?" you asked hopefully.

"fuck, i-i'm terrified."

"well i'm not. isn't that enough?" you gripped onto theodore's coat tightly.

"it is. you'll always be enough." theodore whispered so lowly that if you were not completely tuned into the conversation, his words would've been drowned out by the busy road.

"i'm going to make my own decision now, and i choose you theo. i'll always choose you."

"o-okay. good. because i'd always choose you too."

join my taglist here!

tags: @lilytoyourjames @pattnscn @haroldpotterson @one-direction-harry-potter1 @harryjamespotterswife @fairydxll @xangel76 @grandnerdsheep-blog @eleventhboi @bluetreecloud20 @momoewn @snigdha-14 @chicchanelcigs @milkiangl @bubs-world @cameronsdruthers @valluvsu @jameslover

[ksanara]

Theodore and his Imagination

(NSWF)

Warning ⚠️ ⚠️ ⚠️

Hot hot hot

The bathroom was empty. Water dripped from the tap, and the sound of the drops hitting the cold stone irritated Theodore to the point of grinding his teeth. He quickly walked, burning with anticipation, to the outermost booth. He entered, closed the door, and pushed the latch. Glitter adhered to the surface of the glass Sofia drank from at the party. Theo licked it greedily, felt the chemical berry taste... Her lips were the same, only warmer and softer, plumper than those of the other girls at school... Theo bit the plastic rim and it cracked under the pressure: he squeezed his white fangs too hard.

"What are you doing to me, my Hufflepuff precious... You're inducing a representative of a noble family to masturbate! Come on baby... Spread your legs for me."

Rolling his tongue around the lip mark, Theodore lowered his pants and grunted as his hand wrapped around his cock. He threw his head back and smiled at the pleasant sensations. This was not the first time he had replayed a porn film in his mind, where the main character was such a desirable but forbidden drug with blue eyes. From a satisfied smile, fangs appeared, he closed his eyes, and continued to hold to his face something that a healthy person would, without hesitation, throw into the trash bin. But Theo was sick. Seriously, desperately. He loved his illness...

The hand slid over the rod slowly, gently... She would have wanted it that way... She would have liked him to take his time with her. The princess hardly knew how friction felt inside a woman's body.

And she is certainly not ready for twenty centimeters of Nott’s flesh. Theo leaned his hips forward, pushed into the tight fist and hissed martyrically. The moment of deflowering, appropriation, primacy... He wanted this more than the Dark Lord wanted to get his scar-headed classmate. Theo wanted to taste her lips, not plastic, wanted her to kiss him warmly, as if he were the best man in the world. He imagined that she loved him so much that she was ready to throw herself into the ocean and drown...

From author: English is not my first language, so...