#writing with theodore

[jaceeverett]

WHO: Jace & @theobrowningfd

WHERE: Theo's home, coastal area

WHEN: November, 2024

The least that Jason could do was cook, he had decided. Theo was stuck at home, unable to work, unable to do much of anything, and he knew how hard that could be, remembered his time in the military, healing up from surgery and counting down the days until he could get back on his feet. And so, after spending a couple of hours in his kitchen, he was climbing out of his Jeep, making his way up to Theo's front door and pushing it open to let himself inside, calling out. "Just me, don't get up, not that you probably should, anyway."

[allurearia]

Are you ladies alright?

Where Mattheo certainty didn't expect you of all people to open the door.

Mattheo riddle x reader. Fluff!!

 It was a typical Friday evening at Hogwarts, Marking the end of a busy week for everyone. Mattheo, Theodore, and Lorenzo were lounging in the Slytherin common room, bored out of their minds.

“Alright, I’ve got an idea,” Mattheo said with a smirk.

“What are you scheming now? Mattheo” Theodore asked, already suspicious.

Mattheo chuckled, tossing a ball of paper  he had folded up after fucking up his notes in charms and spilling ink over it. “You know that Muggle TikTok thing? Where a guy stands in front of a girl’s door, knocks, and someone throws a ball just in time for him to catch it and be all suave? I say we do it.”

Lorenzo laughed, shaking his head. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Come on, you can’t tell me this won’t be fun. Besides, it’s not like we’ve got anything better to do.”

Theodore sighed but couldn’t hide his grin. “Alright, I’m in. Who’s the target?”

Mattheo’s eyes gleamed. “Let’s just start with Pansy’s dorm.”

Lorenzo raised an eyebrow. “You're sure about that?”

Mattheo just shrugged, unbothered. “What could go wrong?”

The three of them made their way to the girls' dormitory, carefully slipping past a prefect who knew better than to stop them at this point. They reached Pansy’s door, and Mattheo took his place in front of it. Theodore held the ball, and Lorenzo stood a little to the side, ready to jump in if the ball Theo throws suddenly changed paths.

Mattheo knocked on the door, face completely calm as if this was the most normal thing in the world. They could hear what they assumed to be Pansy’s footsteps approaching, the door creaking open just a crack.

But instead of Pansy, you stood there.

You had been hanging out in Pansy's dorm, just chatting and relaxing after the hectic week you all had, completely unaware of the chaos awaiting you on the other side of the door. The moment you appeared, everything froze.

Theo, ready to throw, panicked slightly spotting you first. His throw went way off course and slammed directly into Mattheo's chest instead of near his head where his hands were cupped to catch. Mattheo winced, muttering a low "bloody hell" under his breath as the ball rolled off his chest. He quickly scrambled to grab it, hoping to salvage the moment.

Despite the mishap, Mattheo was determined to play it cool. He turned around, ball in hand, and prepared to deliver the line but then he saw you.

His breath caught in his throat. Instead of Pansy’s usual sarcastic smirk or dismissive eye roll, he was greeted by your soft, curious expression. For a moment, Mattheo’s mind went blank. You stood there, looking effortlessly radiant in the dim hallway light, and all of his usual confidence seemed to fade away.

You blinked at him, clearly confused but amused. A small, awkward smile played on your lips, as if you were trying to figure out what exactly was going on but found the whole thing oddly funny.

Mattheo stared for a moment too long, the ball still clutched in his hand as he tried to remember what he was supposed to say. His heart pounded in his chest, not because of the ball that had just hit him, but because he wasn’t expecting you to be the one opening the door.

Finally, he managed to find his voice, but it wasn’t the smooth, cocky tone he was aiming for. “Uh… are you ladies alright?”

It came out awkwardly, almost like a question he wasn’t even sure of himself.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, biting your lip to hold back more giggles. Your reaction made the whole situation even more endearing, and Mattheo felt his cheeks heat up, though he'd never admit it.

After a brief moment of awkward silence, you gave him a warm, amused smile, nodding slightly. “Yeah… we’re alright,” you replied with a chuckle, not really knowing what else to say. You shot a final glance at the trio behind him and then gently closed the door.

As soon as the door clicked shut, there was a beat of silence before Lorenzo and Theo erupted into laughter. Lorenzo clutched his stomach, practically howling. “Oh, Merlin Mattheo, you were speechless! Absolutely speechless!”

Theo wiped a fake tear from his eye, grinning wickedly. “You should’ve seen your face! All that attitude gone the moment you saw her. You looked like a lost puppy.”

Mattheo’s ears turned red as he glared at his two friends. “Shut up,” he muttered darkly, still gripping the ball in his hand as if it were Theo’s head he wanted to crush. “You’re the one who can’t throw for shit.”

“Oh, blame it on the throw, sure. But we all saw what really happened,” Theo teased, nudging Lorenzo. “Man gets taken down by a pretty girl. Never thought I’d see the day.”

Mattheo clenched his jaw, trying to shake off the flustered feeling creeping up his stoamch. “I’d worry about your Quidditch skills if I were you, Theo. Chaser with an arm like that? Surprised you haven’t been benched.”

Theo only laughed harder. “Mate, I don’t think Quidditch is the real problem here.”

Lorenzo, still grinning from ear to ear, slapped Mattheo on the back. “Hey, don’t worry, Riddle. It seems like you've finally met someone who knows how to make you shut the fuck up for once”  

Mattheo glowered at both of them, but deep down, his mind was still replaying the way you had smiled at him before closing the door.

Even if he’d never admit it out loud, he knew he was in trouble.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

Pt - 2 "is the lady alright?"

[jaceeverett]

Although Jason hadn't known what to expect when he moved back to town, hadn't been sure if he would be able to stay, deal with being in the same town that he had grown up with when he was coming back a man, fully grown and changed and different in every way, he knew that the truth of it was that he couldn't imagine being anywhere else. Not that he didn't still have his days where he longed for wandering and adventure, but he also had a semi-bum knee and a hankering to stay home and work his way up the chain of command at the park. And there was his family to keep in mind; the way that their lives were changing and growing, and how he wanted to be there for that, too. "I'm not. I promise," he said with a lopsided smile, a sincere expression. "Shit, yeah," Jason leaned his head back with thought, doing the math in his head, "it'll be one right after the next for a while, huh?" Shawn and then Colton, then Riley and then Lilly. Still a ways to go until the next batch found themselves with huge milestones, but life really moved entirely too fast, and he knew that, but it eventually caught up to you. But he was still excited to be there for every step of the way. "Can't pitch a tent in this shit," he agreed with a shake of his head. You could, but you were going to be miserable on that cold, hard ground. But spring would come, soon enough. And then things would be good again.

Theo gave his brother a wink and a wide grin, "I'd never want you to do anything you're not comfortable with." But he knew or at least hoped his brother knew that, and that went for anything and not just diaper changes either. It would include anything and everything in life, and not just Jason either but Delia and her kids, as well as his own kids. With a few soft nods, he smiled gently, "good. Because I'd come looking for you and drag you back home again. Don't think I could handle you leaving again," he confessed, him being able to showcase his emotions a bit more as tkme had wore on and since starting therapy over the summer. "I'll be blubbering at every graduation. And not just my kids either. But definitely Rosalyn's too. Heck maybe even Colton and now Shawn and Cienna too," anything was possible but he knew how sentimental he had become after everything. With another shrug, Theo wasn't one to dwell on his own accomplishments, never the first one to bring it up and would rather showcase everyone else's instead. Following Jason's gaze outside, "Oh no doubt. When the ground thaws a bit too I'd suppose," he was looking forward to that. When life in general started to thaw and the green started to peek through the frost blanketing the wilderness.

[patrophthia]

mini skirt | theodore nott

pairing: theodore nott x reader

wc: 3.5k

genre: smut (minors DNI), fluff, best friends to lovers, meddling blaise zabini just coz, they’re in love 🤢🤢, self indulgent im so sorry for the person i am

smut tags: dry humping, coming untouched, (very little) oral sex, come eating, unprotected sex (don’t do this!!), fingering, size kink, breeding kink, bulge kink, cream pie, so much dirty talk oml, big dick theo 😞, reader being shorter than theo, reader wearing a mini skirt, lots of cussing

summary: blaise zabini’s idea of how to play matchmaker might be different from the traditional way of doing it but at least you ended up getting dicked down, so you guess his method works too.

Blaise Zabini's idea of playing match maker is whispering to you —in a not so quiet way, that he'd heard 'Nott's got a big dick' and though you swatted him away. Face disgruntled, mumbling about how you did not want to know about your best friend's private parts. You're terrible enough of a person for your eyes to drop to his crotch when he sat down on the couch opposing yours.

There's a call of your name, once, twice. Before Theodore leaned forward, his voice loud enough for your eyes to tear itself from his thighs to his eyes. You gulped, hoping —hoping that he thought you'd blanked out and just happened to be staring at a very unfortunate spot. "Hmm?"

Theodore's held onto your gaze, lazying back onto his coach. "You okay? I asked if you wanted to head back up but you didn't answer."

"Head back up?" You repeated. "Head where?"

He eyes you suspiciously. "To your dorm?" Theodore gets up from his seat and leans down to crouch beneath you, staring up at you. "Or mine?"

You blink. Mind running in all kind of ideas —save for the ones you knew he meant when he asked you this question. You shift slightly in your side, scanning the Slytherin's common room as the party rage on; it's nothing too big, a get together between all seventh year supplied with alcohol —that Draco definitely did not buy just to impress the golden boy, not at all.

"I'm pretty sure I saw Draco take Harry up to your dorm, and neither of them look like they're exhibitionists." You say off handedly, looking down at him. "Besides, I'm actually enjoying myself here."

And to prove yourself, you get up from your seat; pulling your mini skirt low enough to cover your ass. Theodore, despite having every chance to peer underneath it, remains respectful as he plays with the hem of your skirt. "You are?"

"You aren't?" You ask back, trying not to squirm from the way his finger brushes against your thigh. Salazar this was your best friend for shit's sake, knowing that he could hypothetically have a big dick should not turn you on as much as it was.

Theodore shakes his head, slowly, almost as if he was in a haze as he quietly tells you. "Not really."

"Let's head up then," you tell him, and though both of your voices are low —barely even audible considering how loud Mattheo decided to play his music. Theodore was able to understand you perfectly, picking himself up as he used your waist as his guide. "Come on."

His pinkie finger catches onto yours as he gets onto his feet, him towering over you the slightest bit. And though, Theodore and you leaving a party early to turn in for the night was a sight your friends were used to by now —knowing that nothing ever did came out of leaving the two of you alone to your own devices. Something about how Theodore was looking at you makes them think that that might just change tonight.

But, they regress and bid the two of you goodnight with a few sporting playful frowns on how you never stay with them until the party actually ends.

You only smile, leading Theodore up the stairs to your dorm like every other night. Once in the comfort of your room, you sit yourself down on your bed, patting the spot for besides you for Theodore to take. He did as told, melting into your touch as you brush his hair back. "How much did you drink?"

His eyes are shut, face leaning into the palm of your hand as his own grips onto your skirt, tugging you closer to him. "Just those two shots we took when we first went down."

You hum, letting him pull you to him. "Did you smoke?" Theodore shakes his head slightly, before opening his eyes back up at you. You laugh lightly. "Then what's up with you tonight? I'm always the one dragging us back."

"Just tired, I guess." He murmurs.

"You guess?" You ask him, standing up —letting his hands fall where it'd been trailing up your skirt back to his lap, lingering slightly on what sits above it. "When are you ever not tired?"

Theodore laughs at your words, eyes crinkling as he did so. "When I watch you play quidditch," he says, pushing himself up to press his back against the head of your bed. Watching as you shuffle towards your wardrobe, picking out a pair of sweats along with two shirts he'd left at your room. "Or when you're drunk out of your mind and I'd to have to play pretend as your boyfriend and take care of you."

You snort at his words, picking out a pair of shorts for yourself. "You don't have to pretend to be my boyfriend to take care of me."

"Mhmm," he hums from his spot, lounging lazily as you walk up to his side, the change of clothes in hand. "But it's more affective that way." His hand finds its way to your hips, pulling you closer to him. "And I like it. I like pretending to be yours."

There's a split second where his eyes falters, looking at you almost nervously as he waits for you to respond. "You do?"

"Mhmm," he hums, pushing himself up to sit straight. "More than anything."

It's nauseating to see him look at you —eyes lacking their usual stoic and disinterest to instead be replaced by lust and adoration.

Without thinking twice, you leaned down meeting his lips halfway as your eyes flutters shut. And though seated, Theodore was still tall enough to kiss you back with ease. Letting you melt into the feeling of his soft lips moving slowly and desperately against yours.

"Fuck," Theodore mutters breathlessly, he pushes against your hand; dropping your (mostly his) clothes to the floor. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that."

"What?" You giggle, letting him pull you onto his lap. "Kiss me?"

"To kiss you again," He murmurs, attaching his lips back onto yours; a soft whimper slipping out of his lips when his clothed cock brushes against your core through his swift movements.

Fuck, Blaise was not lying.

In between your legs, underneath beige slacks, Theo's giant cock ruts up to you. You gasp into his mouth. "Ah—" you try to catch your breath. "—fuck, Theo. You've been wanting to kiss me since we were thirteen?"

"Mhmm," he hums, long slender hands gripping onto your waist before he slides one underneath your shirt and lays it flat against your tummy. His free hand, resting on your thigh, guiding you down onto him. "You're the only girl I ever want to kiss."

It's silly, you know it is —especially when his cock was pressing into your cunt, only separated by a thin layer of clothing— and yet you can't help but smile up at him, almost giggling when you ask him. " 's that why you asked me to be your first kiss?"

"Mhmm." He's smiling when he kisses you. "Can you blame me?" His tongue licks at your top lips, quick and gentle, trying to gauge on what you tasted like. "Prettiest girl at Hogswart and she was willing to be my first kiss."

His hand moves grips onto your waist, his touch blazing hot. "... Flatterer," you say, a playful pout prominent on your lips.

He chuckles, pressing his lips back onto yours, hand moving from your thigh to tug at your shirt. When you nod, Theodore pulls away just enough for him to take your shirt off and toss it Salazar knows where.

He doesn't even try to hide his staring, canting his hips upwards as he held you down. "Can you feel that?" He asks breathlessly, almost whining as he humps against you. "Can you feel how hard you make me?"

You could only moan, nodding dumbly as you rolled your hips. "Fuck—" he says against your lips, "—how'd you get even prettier, baby?"

And despite how hot —how nauseating it is to feel his boner pressing onto your wet cunt, you can't help but giggle at his words, at how turned on he got just at the sight of your tits. "It's just boobs."

"It's your boobs." He hand goes up behind you, making quick work at the clasps before kissing your chest, licking at your nipples; his hips not halting in its movement. "So so pretty."

His hand slips down, going underneath your skirt to knees at you thigh. "Shirt—" you roll onto him, breathless each time you feel just how hard he was. "—shirt, Theo."

Though incoherent, Theodore still understood you enough to pull his shirt off of himself before attaching his lips back onto you. His tongue glides against yours, swallowing your moans up when he bucks particularly hard.

It’s humiliating how the simple act of humping, combined with Theo’s hand playing with your tits, pinching and rolling your nipple between his long fingers with his tongue exploring your mouth has you writhing on top of him.

"Theo, ah—" you whine, hands gripping onto his shoulders to steady yourself, a familiar warmth building in your stomach. "— wait, fuck!"

Theodore's hips coming to a halt, as he watch you cum on top of him —in awe, without him even having touched you. "Did you just… ?"

You whine, pressing your face against his bare shoulder to hide just how embarrass you were. Theodore pulls you back, looking at you with what you could only assume was love. "Did you just come, baby?"

You nod bashfully, hands going to cover your face just for him to pin both of them down. "So cute, so so pretty." He kisses you roughly, rutting up to you. "Gonna fuck you nice and full, how’s that sound?"

Theodore only frowns when you nod, always having been the talkative one in your relationship. “Words, baby. That sound good to you?”

“Ah!” Your panties stick to your cunt uncomfortably, feeling all too messy when he grinds his cock onto you. “Good,” you whine, “ ‘s good.”

Theodore smiles, pressing a quick kiss onto your lips as a reward. His hand trails down to your thighs, flipping your skirt up before groaning at the sight of his beige slacks soiled by your slick and cum. "Look at the mess you made, didn’t even have to touch you.”

Sliding your panties to the side, Theodore runs two fingers down your slit. "Even your cunt's pretty," he murmurs, bringing his finger up to his mouth to licks at your juices. "You taste even better."

You're pouting as you watch him play with your pussy, fingers pressed onto your clit, going back in for another taste before you finally move down his crotch, just enough for you to palm at his cock.

"Fuck—" he whimpers, hips bucking onto your hand.

Feeling proud you pulled such a reaction out of him, you reach for his belt, lifting yourself up off of him as he helps rid himself of his slacks. Pulling back his boxers, you will yourself not to drool over the sight of his long and thick cock, milky from the precum leaking from its tip.

Your hand moves on its own, wrapping around the base of his hard cock only to find that your hand was too small to wrap all the way around him. "Why didn't you tell me your dick was huge?."

"You want me to —fuck—" Theodore whines, cock twitching in your hand as it begged for you to move. "You want me to tell my best friend about the size of my cock?"

"Yeah?" You move your hands up, thumb running along his tip. "Biggest dick I've ever seen."

"You never told me you had —fuck, baby— never told me you had a perfect cunt either." Theodore moans, the sight in front of him feels like it came straight out of a porno. His best friend and her small hands playing with his cock, tits out with only her tiny skirt stopping him from fucking her into the mattress.

You giggle softly before leaning down to take him inside your mouth. "Fuck!" Theodore choked out, hips roughly thrusting into your mouth. He's too big for you to fit in entirely in your throat and he knows it. And he's too close to cumming in your mouth to keep you were you are.

His hand pulling your head up and away from his cock swiftly. His eyes are shut, head leaning back against your headboard as he breathes heavily.

Your eyes are teary when he opens his eyes back up, and he wills himself not to think about how it's the result of him fucking your face. Theodore brings you up to sit between his legs, kissing you desperately, groaning when he tastes himself on your lips.

Your hand goes back to grab at his length and he whines, pressing his face into your neck and squirms underneath your touch. "Wait, fuck—" his hand goes to stop you, brain going dead as you pumped his cock. "—fuck, fuck wait."

Theodore moves away from your touch, pressing your hand down onto your mattress as he heaves heavily. "Shit— Next time," he whines, "we can do all that next time," he murmurs against your neck, pulling his head away to look at you, he adds: "but I need to fuck you. Please, just let me fuck you. I'll do anything to feel your cunt and fill you up nice and full, please baby."

And when he pleads for you so nicely, who were you to deny him anything? He kisses you again, laying you down on your back, whispering soft thank you’s as he presses open mouth kisses down your body. Slender hands roaming around as he tries to map you out. It's only when Theodore flips your skirt up, ripping away your panties to give himself a full view of your throbbing pussy did you realize what he's about to do.

"Hey, I liked those!"

"I'll buy you more, baby." You're dripping in front of him and he think he might be losing his mind. "Need to eat you out first."

"Thought you wanted to fuck me," you whine, gasping softly when he slides his fingers over your pussy, "why can you play with —fuck."

You pout at him, not expecting him to slide his finger inside you while you talked. "Why can you— ah! —play with me when I can't play with you."

"Not playing baby, just stretching you out," he tells you with a soft smile, leaning over to kiss your pout away. "Not gonna fit unless we stretch you out."

" 's fine," you whimper, feeling him slip another finger in, fucking into you slowly. "it'll fit just fine."

"You sure?" He picks up his pace, long fingers reaching places your own never could. "Don't wanna hurt you."

" 's fine," you moan when he slips a third finger into your cunt, "don't care if it hurts, just wanna feel you."

Theodore pulls out, bringing his fingers to his lips to taste you once more. Moving back up, Theodore grabs at a pillow, placing it beneath your lower back to elevate your cunt. Slowly, he guides his dick into you, gasping at the feeling of his thick head stretching you open.

"Fuck—" Theodore pushes in deeper, pausing when he feels you clenching impossibly tight around him "—your cunt's sucking me in so good."

The burn is delicious, his cock tearing you open from within, stretching you out to take him into you. "So full," you whine, pressing your head into your sheets as he slides in even deeper into you. " 's too much."

"I know, baby," he murmurs, rubbing slow circles onto your thighs, "just a little more, I know you can take it."

You whine pathetically, feeling him fuck the last few inches snuggly into you. "Ah!" He hasn't even moved and you're already breathless, feeling him in your stomach. “Fuck me, Theo. Fuck me nice and full.”

“You want me to fuck your small cunt nice and full?” Theodore pulls out entirely, leaving just his tip in your cunt before roughly thrusting back in, hands on your hips as he pounds into you. "I’ll fuck it nice and full for you, maybe even put a baby in you."

And when your pussy grips his cock at his words, Theodore drives into you even harder. “Put a baby in me, please.”

“Yeah? You want that?” He watches as your tits bounce with each harsh thrust. “You want to carry my baby? Have your pretty tits grow bigger? You want that?”

“Yes,” you cry out, eyes screwed shut, the pain of his cock splitting you open mixing with pleasure. “Yes, ah— want it.”

“Fuck—” Having just about enough, Theodore pushes your mini skirt up your stomach giving him a full view of how well he's fucking his thick cock into you. The mound of your pussy bulging as it makes room for his dick to spear into your cunt.

"See that baby? See how good your cunt’s at taking my cock?" He asks, his hand grabbing yours to press down below your navel. "See how good I'm fucking you?"

You can only moan, crying out his name when he presses your hand down onto the bulge in your stomach, pushing his own dick out of your pussy. "Feel how deep my cock is inside of you?"

“Gonna be so easy for me to breed you,” he murmurs, wrapping your legs around his waist to fuck himself even deeper into you. “Want me to breed you, baby? Hmm?”

You nod desperately, too cock drunk to speak. Jolting when Theodore presses a harsh finger to your clit, circling it as he fucked deeper into you. "Theo, I'm gonna—"

"I know baby," he says, his cock getting impossibly harder inside of you. He presses another finger onto your clit, rubbing tight circles as you squirm underneath him. "Fuck— you're pussy's so good. Need you to come on my cock."

Theodore leans down to kiss you, pushing his length even deeper into you. You moan into his mouth, fucking you through your orgasm, your legs trembling as you try to squeeze him in.

Theodore fucks your cum back into you harder and faster, chasing his own high. One quick glance at his cock coated with your cum, followed by the bulge in your tummy was sends has him rutting into your tight cunt, spilling his warm seed inside you.

Theodore thrusts a few more time just to savor the sight of you spread on his cock before finally pulling out of you. "Fuck Theo," you whined, his cum leaking out of you, making a mess all over your bedsheet. "Were you just never going to tell me your dick is huge?"

Theodore only smiles bashfully, pressing a kiss onto your forehead. "We're still on this?"

"You expect me to not be on this?" You say with a slight pout, Theodore only half paying attention to you as he grabbed a random shirt from the floor to wipe at you thighs. "It's almost like you don't even think of me as you best friend."

"Pretty sure best friends don't go around telling each other about how big their dick is, baby," he replies.

"Blaise can know about your dick size but I can't?" You murmur. "Talk about double standards."

Theodore pauses his movements, hand hovering over your spent pussy. "That fucker."

"Hmm?" You're curious now, confused as to why he was suddenly cursing out your friend. Never having been one to use curse words unless —well, unless he's fucking you.

"He told me that you liked guys who begged," he says with a slight front, going back to cleaning you up nonetheless.

"Is that why you begged to fuck me?"

"No, that was all me," he answers truthfully, ears tinging red in embarrassment,"just wanted to fuck you."

"And they say romance is dead," you say playfully before your eye zeroes into what's in Theodore's hand. "What about the whole breeding thing? And ‘s that my shirt?"

Theodore, freezes with his hands between your thighs, feeling you stare him down as he did so. Slowly, he unravels the shirt he'd use to wipe you clean only to realize that yes, that is your shirt.

"You ripped up my panties, messed up my skirt, tried to put a baby in me, and used my shirt to wipe up your cum," you say, frowning, "I'm never having sex with you again."

Theodore's quick to apologize, peppering your face with kisses, mumbling sorry over and over again. "I'll sneak you out of Oxford street, take my black card with you, how's that sound?"

— from bee: this is my first time writing smut be nice to me 😡

[distantdarlings]

HESITATING // t. nott

RATING: R / 3.9K WORDS

Theodore Nott x Fem Reader Insert

+ SUMMARY - *Requested, based on this* After a trip to Hogsmeade, you realize that Theo seems to get an awful lot of attention from girls. To avoid getting hurt, you start to distance yourself from him to rid yourself of your crush. But Theo is not having it. (Smut)

+ WARNINGS - SMUT! No protection - piv, praise kink, slight body worship, biting (one time), fem reader, language, one time skip, dom!Theo (lmk if I missed any)

+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -

more than friends - Isabel LaRosa

---

Your eyes found the clock on your bedside table. You were supposed to meet Theo in the Great Hall in ten minutes, yet you stood completely still in your dorm, switching back and forth between two outfits. It was a Saturday, and you didn’t have the usual crutch of your school uniform, hence the inability to decide. 

As the year progressed, the temperature dropped outside as well as within the castle. When chills were scattered across your arms in class, your teeth were almost clacking together. At the thought, a small shiver went through you.

You decided on a heavier sweater and jeans, noting that if you were cold in the warmth of your dorm, you’d likely be cold in the stone Great Hall. 

You slipped the outfit on, selecting a thick pair of socks and a ratty pair of shoes you’d had since fourth year. It wasn’t the most stunning style, but it was efficient and comfortable. Five minutes to go.

You slipped your wand into your back pocket and headed toward the hallway, slipping the dorm door closed behind you. Theo was likely already there with his group of friends, ones you liked to call friends, as well. The sons of big names around Hogwarts and the wizarding world, in general, though they were just boys to you. 

As you arrived at the grand doors of the Great Hall, the boys in question caught your eye and shot excited waves at you. While some of them had a bit more pride than others, they always seemed happy to see you. A smile broke across your face as you walked over to the Slytherin table, claiming the space between Theo and Mattheo. 

“Hello there, darling,” Theo purred in your ear when the group went back to their conversation. A twinge of heat flared in your chest. You hid a smile.

“Miss me?” You asked, voice low. He smiled. 

“Of course I did.” He threw a playful arm over your shoulder. Though it seemed to be a friendly gesture, it felt like a claim to you. A claim by him placed onto you, alerting all who you belonged to. It made you embarrassingly happy. 

“Any plans today, boys?” You asked. The group turned to you. 

“Actually, we were thinking of heading down to Hogsmeade for the day,” Mattheo said. “We were going to ask if you wanted to go with us?”

“I’d love to, as long as I’m not forcing myself on the group,” you said, only half-joking.

“Of course not,” said Enzo, a sweet smile on his face. “We love hanging out with you.”

“Yeah?” You teased. Mattheo rolled his eyes.

“You know we like you,” he joked, running a mean hand over your head, tousling your hair. You exclaimed and pushed his hand away, laughing along with the dark boy.

“We definitely do,” Theo laughed, pulling you tighter against him for a moment. 

“Well, alright,” You laughed. “Heading there now?”

“Yes!” Enzo clapped his hands together and stood, already headed toward the door. The rest of you laughed and made to follow him. 

“What about jackets? It’s cold out there!” You exclaimed, rubbing your hands over your arms.

“Ah, I’ve prepared for that,” Theo said, picking up two jackets that had been placed beside where he’d once sat. You hadn’t noticed them originally. 

He selected the smaller brown one and slipped it over your shoulder while he pushed his arms through the black one.

“Theo!” You exclaimed, running your hands over the nice corduroy material. “Where on earth did you get this? Whose is this?” 

“Yours, of course,” he laughed as the four of you exited the castle and headed down the cobblestone path to Hogsmeade.

“What do you mean?” You asked.

“Call it an early Christmas gift,” he said, smiling smugly. 

“You can’t be serious!”

“Of course I am,” he said, rolling his eyes. “I saw it in one of the shops last weekend and thought of you.” 

If you weren’t the wiser, you’d have thought your heart had melted and poured down through your rib cage. A blush filled your cheeks and your stomach at the thought of Theo thinking of you and then buying something. 

“Thank you, Theo,” you sighed. He laughed and shrugged it off as if he hadn’t just made your whole week, if not your whole decade. 

The whole way down to Hogsmeade, your heart refused to let go of your brain. The pink filter that had been placed before your eyes glowed brightly. This little crush of yours seemed to have elevated a bit, but you’d never admit that, of course.

The group stopped before the Three Broomsticks, eager to slip into the cozy building’s warmth and order several rounds of Butterbeer. 

The four of you pushed through the door and selected a round booth near one of the back windows. Enzo and Mattheo headed to the front counter to order for the group. 

“Have you got any plans for the rest of the day?” Theo asked, naturally sliding his arm around the back of the booth behind you. 

“Well, if you’ll have me, I’d love to stick with the three of you,” you suggested.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” he smiled, playfully tugging on a piece of your hair. He was hoping you’d say that? 

“Here we are!” Enzo cheered, placing two pints of Butterbeer on the table before the two of you. Mattheo was close behind him, carrying two for the both of them. They slid into the booth beside Theo, with you and Mattheo on the ends and Theo and Enzo between you. It felt comfortable.

Between each of your smiles, all with different personalities, you’d found a very safe space to stay. Every moment with these people made up a memory you knew you’d remember until you could no longer. Nothing could have ruined this evening.

“Oh, my God!” A loud voice said, drawing the syllables out. The four of you turned to look at the unfamiliar face standing before your table. “Teddy? Is that you?”

“Teddy?” You asked, wrinkling your nose at the nickname. 

“Holy shit. Laverna!” Theo laughed. “How long has it been?” 

“A while! I’ve just been visiting recently and thought I’d stop by Hogsmeade after not having seen it for so long.” 

The girl standing before your table was incredibly gorgeous, with flowing platinum hair that reached the bottom of her spine and shocking blue eyes. Her skin appeared flawless and luminescent beneath the comforting lights within the restaurant. A fire of jealousy broiled in your chest. 

“Guys, this is Laverna,” Theo introduced her. “We were pretty close before her family moved to France, and she transferred to Beauxbatons.” 

“That’s me!” she giggled. It sounded like she even had a hint of a French accent. You struggled not to roll your eyes. 

“I was just going to get a drink. Do you want to catch up a bit?” she asked.

Theo ushered Mattheo and Enzo out of the booth. A bit confused, they got to their feet and allowed the boy next to them to slide out and give a hug to the beautiful woman. You sipped your Butterbeer. 

The other two boys sat back down and glanced up at you in scattered patterns. You ignored their eyes. You were pretty sure they knew about your little crush. Scratch that. They definitely knew. 

Over your shoulder, you could hear the two of them laughing and carrying on. You attempted to ignore the burning in your cheeks. Mattheo and Enzo nursed their drinks, fidgeting randomly. 

A few moments of randomized chatting passed before Theo finally came back, a poignant smile still painted over his lips. You looked away from him. 

“Sorry about that,” he laughed, scooting in next to Mattheo. You tried not to think about the fact that he didn’t sit next to you. You were being dramatic. 

“Alright, where to next?” He asked. The four of you discussed what to do with the rest of your day with random store names circling about. The final agreement was to head over to Honeydukes to enjoy some of their Christmas sales, and so Enzo could stock the small jar that sat beneath his bed. He tended to snack throughout the night as he was tending to assignments, refusing sleep. 

You gathered together and made your way through the small town, window-shopping here and there. Every time you pouted over Theo’s seemingly obvious interest in the gorgeous girl, you remembered the jacket currently around you. Theo cared about you. Was it the way you wanted him to? You weren’t sure. 

Once inside the colorful store, the four of you split and wandered your separate ways, each looking for different sweets. You always headed right toward the chocolate frogs, eager to extend your vast collection of cards. Perhaps it was a bit childish, but who cared? It was a fun hobby. 

You stopped before the rack piled high with the blue boxes and stared. You tried to guess which one would have a card you’d never gotten before, conjuring up every ounce of intuition you had.

With another second of thought, you chose the one sitting on the shelf directly in front of your face. You were excited to open it with Theo; he always loved to see you add to your collection. 

You turned the box over in your hands, examining the packaging. Out of the corner of your eye, a flash of red caught your attention. You turn to the left and notice Theo laughing aloud, talking with that same girl, Laverna, and another girl. A dark-haired goddess with blushed cheeks and a perfect figure. Fuck’s sake. 

The urge to crush the chocolate box in your hand flashed through your mind. You rolled your eyes and headed further into the store, trying to put distance between the two of you.

Mattheo was standing against a wall, browsing a rack of magazines, occasionally picking one to flip through. You stopped before him, leaning up against the same wall. 

“Pouting, are you?” He asks, not looking up from the magazine in his hands. You scoff.

“No, I’m not…I’m just…,” you sigh and close your eyes.

“Just in love?” He asked, glancing up at you with a smirk. 

“Fuck off,” you groaned. Was it that obvious? Maybe it was. You didn’t know. An exhausted sigh left your lips.

Uproarious laughter sounded from the corner. You recognized one of the laughs as Theo’s. The others belonged to women. That was it.

“Okay, I’m heading back to the castle,” you said, throwing your hands up. “Tell Theo I wasn’t feeling well or something.”

“What? Are you sure?” Mattheo asked, finally dropping the magazine. “We still want you here with us.” 

“It’s okay, I’m just tired,” you said. “I think I’ll just head back for a nap until dinner.” And with that, you paid for your candy and headed back to the castle. 

xxx 

Over the next week, you made an unintentional decision to skip meals with the group. You weren’t trying to avoid them—or maybe you were—but you found yourself wanting to be alone more and more the past few days. 

The thought of having to see Theo after Saturday, when he had the attention of half the girls in Hogsmeade, made you want to vomit. Perhaps it was jealousy pushing you away, but it was your anxiety keeping you there. Every time you thought of heading back to eat with the group, you reminded yourself that Theo hadn’t tried to reach out since you’d stopped seeing them. If he wanted to, he would, right?

With your decision to keep away from the boys for a while, you’d taken to eating in your dorm over your lunch break. Nobody else was ever in there, and it was kind of comfortable, to be honest. You would nibble on your meal and read, or draw, or whatever came to mind, and it was nice and quiet. 

You set your book on your bed and gathered the little meal you’d prepared for yourself. Pulling the covers back, you settled in and grabbed your novel. This was absolutely lovely after a busy morning.

Just as you’d begun to settle yourself into the routine you’d started the previous week, two shouts of your name shot through the air. Before the disappointment and onset of anxiety came shock. Was that Theo?

Rapid steps grew closer and closer until the dormitory door echoed a gentle knock as if the person behind it had slowed down just as they’d arrived. 

“Um…who is it?” You asked awkwardly.

“Baby, it’s Theo,” a breathless voice came from behind the door. “Please open the door. Please. I need to talk to you.”

Baby? What the fuck? What the fuck? What the fuck? The shocked mantra rushed through your head as you shakily ripped your comforter away, ignoring your food and book. 

You slowly pulled the door open, seeing a nervous Theo. His eyes were shot with blushed red, and his lips were swollen. Had he been crying?

“Theo, what—?”

“Please, can I come in?” he asked. His breath exited his body in short, rough pants. You nodded wide-eyed and moved out of the way. He pushed into the room, walking to the center of the room. His hands pushed through his hair repeatedly.

You pushed the door closed and pushed the lock. When you turned, he did the same, eyes on yours. His eyebrows were furrowed together, desperation painted on his face. His lips were parted, his eyes wanting. 

“What is it—?”

“You have to tell me what I’ve done,” he begged. “I feel like I’m going crazy.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean! Where have you been? You’ve been gone for days; the boys say you’re mad at me, that you might not come back—what the fuck are they talking about?” he demands, his eyes wide. 

Your lips parted stupidly. No words came, no matter how hard you searched for them. The only thought that could process within your brain was how you were gonna kill Enzo and Mattheo for saying such stupid things to him. If anything, they were likely trying to get him to come and talk to you—which, it seems, has worked.

“Theo,” you cave, “it’s not that I wasn’t returning or mad at you…I was…” You could barely get the words out. He watched you with intent and pressure. It felt as though you were about to suffocate.

“What? Please tell me. What’s wrong?” He begged, his voice cracking. He moved toward you, his hands raising to touch you, then hesitating and dropping. A line of shimmering tears pool within his eyes, and the pure shock of seeing Theo about to cry had your lips parting again. 

“I was…,” you groan, “…jealous.” You practically whispered the last part.

“Wait, what?” He gasped, his eyes widening even further.

“Theo, please don’t make me repeat it,” you sighed, pressing your hands to your face. “I’m embarrassed as is, I was jealous of those girls from last Saturday. I felt like every time I saw you, you were making another girl laugh, and they were all fucking perfect, of course, and I-I like you so much, Theo—”

His hands pressed to either side of your face, his fingers tight and warm. His eyes were widened, his breaths heavy. 

“No more,” he breathed, “please, tell me to stop, and I will, but I have to…” 

His lips pressed roughly to yours, his breath more like pants. He kissed you like you were air, his lips desperate and biting. The sound he pressed against your mouth was like one of relief. You gasped against him, finally realizing where you truly were and what was happening. Your fingers tightened in his hair, begging him closer to you. 

“I n-need you,” he shivered against your lips, breath shuddering. You nodded fervently, barely having time to wrap your arms around his neck as his hands placed themselves around your thighs. He yanked you into the air and placed himself on your bed, settling you over his lap. The way he’d forced you to straddle him pressed his firming core against yours, sending a shock of excitement through your body. 

His fingers began to quickly work the buttons of your shirt apart. When the fabric was finally split down the middle, he pressed his mouth to the top of your breasts, mouthing hot kisses against the soft flesh there. You sighed softly, letting your head fall back to allow him all the necessary room. 

“Wanted you for so long,” he mumbles against you. Your fingers brush through his curled hair, gently scraping against his scalp every so often. The feeling of his lips against you made your heart race to the point of beating against his tongue. 

Much to your dismay, he pulled away and shoved you back. You fell against the foot of the bed, completely helpless as he climbed over you. The domineering air he carried with him spread over your body, rendering it pliant beneath his searing touch. 

His fingers gently cradled your hips as he worked his mouth over your stomach, dipping his tongue across every curve and dip, savoring the taste of sweat that slid down your skin. As his lips heated your skin, the shaking breaths he blew through his nose cooled it down and had you reeling. The ceiling above you was all but spinning. 

He followed the curve of your body all the way up to your mouth, allowing his tongue to learn every inch of your abdomen. When his lips found yours again, the both of you were panting. The only thing standing between the two of you was your uniforms.

With a burst of confidence thanks to his session of worship, you gently cradled him in your hands, applying slight pressure against his most sensitive area. At the touch, he choked against you, sucking in a rough breath.

“Please,” he moaned. “Let me fuck you. I'll do anything.” He whispered your name. Over and over and over. Begging and begging. 

“Anything?” You smirked, watching as his eyes seemed to well up with the same liquid. He nodded quickly.

“I want you to do whatever you want to me,” you whispered. And if it wasn’t like giving someone a million bucks. 

“Thank you,” he whispered, a wave of relief washing across his face. The obvious desire written across his face and actions had you feeling wanted and gorgeous. The confidence built by the second.

His fingers quickly found the hem of your skirt and pushed it up over your thighs. At the sight of the thin bottoms you had on, a slow moan pushed itself between his lips. “Fuck,” he whispered.

His thumb came down to slowly swipe down the center of your core through your bottoms. You jolted at the soft action, not prepared for it. A smile spread over his face.

He gently pushed the fabric to the side, reveling in the feeling of the white lace against his fingertips. Once he’d revealed you, an even louder moan escaped from him. Only a moment passed before he pressed two fingers to his lips, coating them with a thick layer of saliva. He pulled them from his lips and began to lather you in himself. 

Your lips parted in a breathy whine at the feeling. His fingers were gentle but direct, only brushing the most sensitive spots before slowly filling you up to the hilt of his fingers. 

“Fuck, you just opened right up for me,” he groaned. His words sent shocks of lightning through your stomach. His skilled fingers stretched you out perfectly, preparing you for what was to come. The want in his eyes was growing darker and darker, imagining the next few minutes. It was all too much; you couldn’t wait any longer.

“Please, Theo, just fuck me,” you whined, “no more.”

“Yeah, baby? I’m gonna fuck you, don’t worry about that,” he whispered. “‘ve been dreaming about this cunt for months.” He makes quick work of his trousers, roughly ripping the clinking belt from its loops. He separates the button and pushes them down, revealing the dark briefs that framed every muscular curve. 

He separated your legs and placed himself neatly between them. His hands reached down to agonizingly trace himself up and down your core. You moaned at the feeling, bucking your hips against his warmth. You attempted to salvage any of his warmth, begging for the feeling of him within you. 

When he finally pushed himself into you, there was no resistance. The sounds that left your mouth chorused each other, echoing across the dorm room. He gave only a few seconds for you to adjust before building his pace rapidly. The pure length of him hit everything within you with ease. This time, there were tears welling up in your eyes as he abused every inch of you. 

Sweet nothings left his mouth as he pushed roughly into you. His strong hips showed no weakness, and the hands that gripped you branded bruises against your flesh. Every second of this moment would visit you for years to come, promising you’d never find someone like Theo. He was the body made to fit perfectly against yours, with the intent to love and please and hold. And, fuck, if he wasn’t doing exactly that. 

As he worked you closer and closer to the end, he reached down and pulled you quickly against his chest. Out of habit, your arms wrapped around his neck. Despite the change in position, he never let up on his speed or brutality. The only thing you could feel was his strong hands bouncing you up and down him. His teeth pressed into your neck, piercing the soft flesh there. And that was what did it for you. 

You finished around him hard and heavy, your limbs becoming pathetically weak. As you came down from your high, you could barely keep your hold around him. His arms tightened around you, holding you up as he fucked himself into you, harder and harder, until he was coming, too. The feeling of his release pouring within you and every thrust he performed to push it back within you pulled you out for the final moment. 

Stars danced around your head as he finally set you back down against the bed, his touch so gentle in comparison to what he had done prior. The contrast of his touch against you as he pushed the wet hair clinging to your forehead was blinding. You sighed contently as he lay next to you, eyes watching you closely.

“I’m sorry I was so emotional,” he whispered. “I thought I was going to lose you forever…before I’d even had the chance to tell you what kind of feelings I was harboring.”

“What kind of feelings?” you whispered back, turning over to face him.

“That I’m completely in love with you and have been for a long time.” Your heart swelled at the confession. Quiet giggles spilled from your mouths at the realization of what he was saying.

“I’m in love with you too, Theo,” you laughed. “That’s why I was so jealous.”

“Because I’m so sexy?” he teased. You rolled your eyes and placed a playful smack on his arm.

The moments that followed were filled with quiet laughs and sweet kisses. And before either of you had noticed, you’d both drifted off against each other. Afternoon classes were a lost cause, as was the hope of meeting back up with Mattheo and Enzo for dinner, but neither of you minded. 

*Tag List: @lilymurphy03 (if you want to be added to the tag list for any future works, please send me a dm or message in my inbox, thanks!)*

[tellbrina]

how y/n feels after saying the most stupid thing she could've said in an argument

[deadghosy]

How my favorite Slytherin boys react to you passing out.

Warning: Hogwarts legacy to Harry Potter

Ft. Sebastian Sallow, Ominis Gaunt, Tom Riddle, Mattheo Riddle, Draco Malfoy, Theodore Nott, Lorenzo Berkshire.

Sebastian Sallow

“I think I’m gonna pass out.”

“Please don— BLIMEY!”

Immediately catches you a little and takes you to the hospital wing. He’s definitely most worried about you since he was scared in the back of his mind that you might have been cursed like his twin sister during an adventure.

After he found out it was cause you hadn’t eaten, he’s shoving some honeyduke sweets down your throat and meals. 3 meals per day is what he’s making sure you are eating before another adventure starts.

Ominis Gaunt

You haven’t slept much, all these adventures sure were wreaking your body. You came in the common room to rest on the couch. Not noticing that a certain gaunt had sense you, you passed out before getting to the damned couch.

He sensed you passed out and he started to feel scared. He was put away his wand and started to feel you on the floor. And when he finally got the touch of your arm, he gripped it and pulled you towards him. Setting your head in his lap as he was praying to anything, anyone for you to wake up.

So when you woke up he felt relieved but asked you to go see the nurses when you felt like you could walk.

After finding out you haven’t been getting sleep from the trials and adventures you have been going through with Sebastian.

He gave the poor sallow boy an earful of a scolding.

Mattheo Riddle

You passed out due to overheating yourself. You were studying day and night. Of course your beloved riddle was concern, so he comes into your room. When you seen him and tried to stand up, that’s when you fell like an animated cartoon.

Mattheo thought you tripped on yourself, but when you didn’t move he got worried and checked you out.

As he felt your head was burning, he unbutton your shirt and ran to the bathroom to get a cold towel. Putting it in your forehead, he waited.

Waking up to see mattheo was sure a shocker since you would’ve thought he might’ve took you to the hospital wing.

Theodore Nott

He caught you when he noticed you had gotten “dizzy” is what you said in the morning.

He knew something was off when you kept looking spaced out. So when he caught your body that was going to hit the floor, he took you to the medic wing and let the head nurse treat you.

He visits often, telling you about the classes and slight drama. And after you still recover and leave the wing, he’s treating you like you will break.

And now you got a overprotective Theodore on your side

Lorenzo Berkshire

Panic mode actived

Poor baby let out a scream which alerted a professor over and took you to the medic wing

He was anxious waiting for news on when you can be release and how the blazes did to pass out.

You passed out because you forgot to ate for the 2nd time. Prepare for this Slytherin boy to put a lot of food on your plate for weeks.

[daisydrabbles]

Maybe it's the Moonlight

- Theo Nott x Female Reader

Pairing: Tutor!Theo Nott x Good girl!female reader

ⓘ When I write within an academic setting it’s a university au and therefore all characters are over 18!

Warnings: slight dubcon, dirty talk, fingering, corruption, praise, mild degradation, power imbalance, unprotected sex, creampie, public sex (there’s literally nobody around but still it’s a public place)

Summary: Theo has been assigned to tutor you in astronomy, but his methods are a little… unorthodox (they involve fucking)

Word count: 3.1k

‘I didn’t take you for the type to sneak out past curfew, doll.’

You looked up from your seat on the edge of the Astronomy Tower to see your devastatingly handsome tutor staring down at you.

As one of the brightest in your year, it was incredibly frustrating to you that you were almost failing astronomy. What was even more frustrating was that Theodore Nott, the infamous man-whore who’d probably never stepped foot in the library (for reasons other than making out behind the bookshelves), was top of the class.

When you requested additional help, you expected to be partnered with someone like Hermione Granger - someone as studious and academically motivated as you. Yet here you were, meeting with one of the most attractive yet most troublesome boys in school.

You two were the definition of an oxymoron: you; good, innocent and studious, juxtaposed with him; bad, corrupt and carefree.

‘I’m normally not,’ you said defensively, ‘but I really need to pass this class.’

‘And you want my help.’ he smugly added as he sat down next to you.

Immediately, you felt some weird tension between the two of you. Why did he look so happy to be here? And why was he wearing such a predatory smile on his face?

Maybe it’s the moonlight you told yourself, as you made a mental note to reschedule your next session for a more civilised location, despite the fact that this one was undeniably practical - what better time and place to study the stars?

You cleared your throat and flicked through the pages of your textbook, feeling rather shy, and desperate to get this study session over with as soon as possible. ‘So, what first?’

Theo tutted and plucked the dusty old book from your hands, before he carelessly chucked it over his shoulder. ‘What’s first is I wanna hear you say it: Theo I need your help.’

‘Hey I needed tha- what?’

He was already having fun with your new dynamic. Whilst you were disappointed with your assigned tutor, he was pleased. In astronomy, the only class you shared, he would watch you intently - in a way not dissimilar to how lions stalk their prey. You were too perfect… he thought often of inviting you over and corrupting you; fucking you senseless and leaving enough marks on your body to prove it. However he knew you would never agree to hang out with him outside in a social setting - his academic arrangement was a perfect way to get you alone.

‘You heard me, miss high-and-mighty, I want you to say the words.’

‘Why?’ you crossed your arms in protest. You didn’t want to admit to needing anyone, especially not Theo Nott.

‘Cos you think you’re better than me,’ he said simply, ‘yet here you are about to fail astronomy, expecting me to help you pass it. You almost sound entitled really, maybe I should just go-‘

‘Fine.’ you cut him off, which only made him grin and look at you expectantly. ‘Theo I… I need your help.’

‘Good girl.’ his grin widened hearing you say those words, whilst simultaneously your eyes widened hearing his response. What did he just call you?

‘Why did you want me to say it so badly?’

He shrugs. ‘What man doesn’t want a pretty girl to say she needs him?’

Cheeky bastard. Nevertheless, you felt your cheeks heat up against your will. He thought you were pretty. Not that that should’ve meant anything, coming from someone like Theo Nott. He was notorious for being a womanizer. A playboy. A man-whore. You so badly wished his reused words had no effect on you, but they did. Looking down at your lap you prayed that your flush wasn’t noticeable in the darkness, for you were almost embarrassed at how he could fluster you with so few words.

It was very noticeable.

At least, it was for Theo, who had been seeking such a reaction and had therefore picked up on it immediately. He wasn’t entirely sure if you even wanted to study at all when you suggested meeting in the Astronomy Tower, with it being a primarily regarded by students as a hookup spot. It surprised him that you actually brought textbooks and came with the intention of learning.

He had other ideas.

He was sick of girls throwing themselves at him, this time he wanted a challenge - but he didn’t just didn’t want any challenge, he wanted you.

He wanted to shut your smart little mouth up with his own; he wanted the satisfaction of taking someone so smart and fucking them dumb. The dirty-minded boy found it cute that you’d so innocently suggested the meeting in the middle of the night - that the impure thoughts he was thinking hadn’t even crossed your mind.

Clearly you hadn’t considered your choice of clothing either. He didn’t miss the way the wind was causing your little pleated skirt to fly up, nor the way your tight blouse clung to your curves and accentuated all the right places. Places he’d love to touch; to kiss.

Alas, he would have to settle for letting his mind wander for now. As badly as he wanted to fuck you, he did also commit to helping you. His hands would have to wander later. Wander up to your perky tits, down to your sensitive cunt…

‘Anyway,’ he shook his head to rid himself of his horny thoughts, ‘is there an area of study you’re particularly struggling with?’

‘Star charts.’ you admitted, your shoulders slumping.

Theo looked as though he was trying his hardest not to laugh at you. ‘Star charts?’

‘You’re supposed to help me, not mock me.’ you deadpanned.

‘I’m sorry,’ he chuckled, ‘I just find it amusing that someone as intelligent as you can’t read a fucking star chart.’

‘I can read a star chart just fine. I just can’t…’

‘Use it to navigate the sky?’ he offered.

‘Exactly!’

Unable to help himself, he dropped his voice to a low and seductive tone and leaned into your ear. ‘Well I’d be more than happy to make you see stars.’

Theo’s hot breath on the side of your neck combined with his dominant tone caused a gush of wetness between your legs. Discreetly, you squeezed your thighs together, silently willing yourself to break free from whatever trance he’d put you under.

This didn’t go unnoticed by Theo, who was thoroughly enjoying watching you squirm.

‘I- if you don’t wanna help me that’s okay but I think maybe I should-‘

‘Believe it or not,’ he cut you off, his tone surprisingly gentle, ‘I’m actually trying to help you.’

A puzzled look appeared on your face. ‘You threw my textbook away when I tried to open it.’

‘Well, let’s not live in the past.’ he waved off your statement, holding out his hand for you to take. ‘Do you trust me?’

‘With what?’ you eyed him skeptically.

‘Jesus are you always this tense? It’s a yes or no question, doll.’

After a moments hesitation, you answered; ‘Yes… yes,I trust you.’ and took his hand.

That was all the confirmation he needed to yank you onto his lap, causing you to let out a little gasp. Sitting on Theo Nott’s lap was not how you envisioned spending your study session, but you were hardly complaining. The faint aroma of cigarettes and the sound of his racing heart should be distressing - a sign of danger, even - but you felt oddly calm. Your back was towards him so you were both facing the night sky as he asked, ‘Can you point out Andromeda for me?’

The feel of his hardening bulge underneath your ass had momentarily stunned you, and you stuttered trying to answer his question.

‘Just relax…’ his fingers caressed your exposed thighs comfortingly, slowly working their way upwards, meeting the hem of your mini skirt.

‘What are- shouldn’t we study first?’ You grabbed his wrist to stop his fingers going any higher.

When you said first, implying that you would be interested in having sex with him later, he felt his cock twitch. Finally, you were granting the opportunity for him to make you his. Luckily for the both of you, Theo was great at multitasking.

‘Tut tut, do you want to get better at astronomy or not?’

Well yes, but you couldn’t see how him touching you was going to help with that. ‘I-‘ you were cut off by your own whimper as you felt Theo’s fingers graze over your clit through your underwear.

‘Then let’s try again. Where’s Andromeda?’

At first, his fingers lightly circling your clit were too much of a distraction. It was obvious he had experience, because he knew exactly how hard to press to satisfy you but still keep you coherent. After a moment of getting used to the sensation, your brain was clear enough to answer his question so, using your finger, you traced the outline of the constellation in the sky.

‘That was correct, clever girl.’

‘Wait, really?’ you bounced up and down in excitement, making the boy underneath you groan at the feeling of you pressing on his hard cock. ‘How did you teach me to do that without teaching me anything?’

‘Your problem is you think too much. I thought if I helped you… relax, you’d be able to focus on astronomy a little better. Clearly, I was correct.’ Theo moved his hand inside your underwear and slipped a finger inside your wet hole. ‘Well done.’

Your mouth falls open at the feeling of his long finger deep inside your tight cunt, stroking your inner walls. As determined as you were to not be another one of his silly hookups, you couldn’t bring yourself to deny the pleasure he was giving you.

‘Fuck, doll, who knew a good girl like you would be this wet for someone like me.’

Theo’s finger teased you for the next twenty minutes as he asked you various Astronomy-related questions, which you answered correctly. He was right, you were clearly thinking too hard at something so simple, and his fingers pleasuring you rid you of all the unnecessary thoughts, allowing you to focus solely on the stars. Every now and then, Theo would increase the pressure on your clit or thrust his finger deeper, just to see you cut yourself off mid-sentence with a moan or a whimper induced by his touch.

‘Theo…’ you whined after answering a dozen questions about constellations, looking up at him. You were asking for something, but you weren’t quite sure what. Just something more.

He pushed a second finger inside you, curling them upwards into you slowly as his palm pressed against your clit. Watching you writhe on top of him and hearing you moan made his dick throb in his trousers, as he internally tried to decide between bringing you to your climax on his fingers first or just freeing his cock and fucking you raw right away.

‘Yeah, amore? You like being finger-fucked out in the open?’ he whispered, even though there was no chance of you being seen or heard by anyone at this time. His words went straight to your core and his previously slow pace started to quicken as he felt you clench around his digits. ‘Fuck- yes right there.’ you cried, feeling his long fingers hit that sweet spot deep inside you.

Not long after, he retracted his fingers, smearing your wetness on your clit teasingly before removing his hand from your underwear altogether. The new, empty feeling made you whimper.

‘Why’d you stop?’ you pouted breathlessly whilst you turned around in his lap, now straddling him.

Locking his eyes on yours, he brought the two fingers that were previously buried inside you to his lips and licked off all your juices. ‘So sweet.’ he muttered to himself, probably not intending for you to hear. ‘Because,’ he said louder, ‘I want to make you cum on my cock, if you’ll let me.’

Your eyes flick down to his now rock-hard erection, still trapped inside his trousers. ‘Yes, please…’

‘Atta girl… but first, let’s get these clothes out the way, shall we?’

You nodded frantically, tugging at the hem of his t shirt as he unbuttoned your blouse to reveal your tits sitting perfectly in a lacy white bra. ‘These are fucking gorgeous.’ he palmed them before reaching round to unclip your bra. ‘I can’t want to watch them bounce as I fuck you.’

He pulled away briefly to discard his own shirt before flipping you both over. How he revelled in the sight of you underneath him, all exposed and desperate. Theo knew that you weren’t like him; you weren’t the type to sleep around. He was honoured to be making you feel this good, and he wanted to make sure you had as much fun as he knew he would have.

After pulling off his trousers he guided your hand to his bulge, making you feel him through his boxers. ‘Can you feel how hard I am for you, amore? How desperate my cock is to sink itself into your pretty little cunt?’

He leaned down to give you a passionate kiss, his thumb finding its way to your clit. Your fingers found his waistband and tugged on it, indicating that you wanted him to discard them. He obliged.

Pulling away from the kiss, your jaw dropped as you saw his erection finally spring free, hitting his stomach. It was bigger than you could’ve imagined, and you suddenly found yourself conscious of how large he was in comparison to you.

‘Theo that is not gonna fit inside of me.’

‘Let’s find out, shall we?’ he yanked your skirt and your underwear down with one harsh tug, leaving you entirely on display for him. With one movement of his hips the tip of his cock found your dripping wet entrance, and he pushed it in it in ever so slightly. The stretch makes you moan; his cock was way thicker than his fingers. ‘See that, doll, your warm little cunt is practically pulling me in. I told you I know what’s best for you.’

Tugging at his brown curls at the back of his neck, you hum in agreement. ‘Please… I need you.’

‘I didn’t even have to ask you to say it that time.’ he grinned before he bottomed out inside of you making you cry out. A bulge was visible in your stomach where is cock was deep inside you, still whilst you adjusted to his size. ‘You okay, pretty girl?’ All you could do was nod, not trusting your mouth to form coherent words with the boy who was meant to tutor you buried to the hilt in your dripping wet cunt. ‘Words, please.’ he commanded as he grabbed your jaw to bring your face closer to his.

‘Yes I’m- I’m more than okay just please…’

‘Please what?’

‘Please fuck me.’ you said in a small voice, surprised at yourself for saying it outright. At your request he started to move, making you bite your lip to keep yourself from moaning at the sensation.

‘Don’t hold back, amore. Your sounds are as cute as your face, I wanna hear them all.’

And with that he began to pound in and out of you, immediately picking up a harsh pace. His large hands pinned your wrists on either side of your head so you could make no attempt to cover your flushed face or muffle your breathy moans. He was no hypocrite either, groaning into your ear letting you hear just how much he was enjoying fucking you raw.

It was even more erotic than he’d imagined. He’d managed to turn a tutoring session with the schools resident good girl and turn it into a scene straight out of a porno. The sight of your tits bouncing as your tight, warm cunt took his thick cock was one he wanted engrained in his memory. Fuck, if you weren’t on a hard wooden floor he’d be tossing your little body around in all sorts of positions. And god, how he wanted to taste you; to suck on your sensitive little clit and lick up your sweet juices. The opportunity hadn’t arose in this particular occasion, but it only motivated him to get you in bed again.

‘You feel fucking incredible.’ he groaned, earning only a whimper in response. ‘Bet you couldn’t answer any astronomy questions now, hm?’

You shook your head, your eyes fluttering shut as he hit that sweet spot deep inside of you. ‘N-no, I-‘ his pace didn’t falter as you felt yourself clenching around him, orgasm building up - if anything, it quickened.

‘Cos I’ve fucked you senseless, haven’t I?’ Although you could hear him, you couldn’t respond. His voice was muffled and your vision was clouded, your pleasure was so overwhelming, you couldn’t think straight. ‘You like going dumb on my dick?’

Theo could tell you were close, so he brought a thumb to your clit, adding pressure in circular motions. That’s all it took for your orgasm to come crashing over you. ‘Theo, I’m-‘

‘Do it. Let go. Cum for me.’

And you do. Just as he promised, you swore you saw stars whilst he fucked you through your high and chased his own. He didn’t slow down to accommodate your now increased sensitivity - his need almost became primal as his thrusts got sloppier the closer he got. ‘Gonna fill you up with my cum, doll. Real deep.’ he grunted in your ear, feeling his own orgasm building. The pressure from your tight cunt felt like heaven to him, but mostly it was the way you were looking at him that pushed him over the edge, like he’d just taken you places you didn’t know you could go.

You both moaned as you felt his hot cum spill into you, marking you as his. And you were his, now. He’d ruined you for anybody else; he’d moulded you to fit him perfectly.

After pulling out, he laid down on his side next to you, tracing mindless circles around your navel.

‘That,’ you inhaled shakily, ‘was amazing. Are you okay?’

His eyes, which had previously been fixed on the sight of his cum leaking out of your hole, snapped up to you. By the looks of it, people don’t normally ask him that after sex, and you immediately felt as though you’d said something wrong. That was, until you felt his hand cup your cheek. ‘Careful, doll, you’re really making me want to keep you.’

‘What?’ you roll onto your side to face him.

‘Nothing.’ he sighed in content. ‘I’m great, are you okay?’

‘Amazing. Same time next week?’ you attempted to joke.

‘Same time tomorrow.’

[thoughtkick]

I must learn to love the fool in me - the one who feels too much, talks too much, takes too many chances, wins sometimes and loses often, lacks self-control, loves and hates, hurts and gets hurt, promises and breaks promises, laughs and cries.

Theodore Isaac Rubin

[jaceeverett]

WHO: Jace & @theobrowningfd

WHERE: Cage & Cordelia's Wedding

WHEN: October 19, 2024

"What do you have good to eat?" Jason asked, dropping down with an 'oomph' into the seat next to his brother, setting his own plate down on the table. Seconds, because he was pretty hungry, despite the breakfast they had all shared that morning getting ready with the groom. "I feel like every wedding should have food like this. You know, stuff you can actually identify and would eat regularly?"

[esotericcangel]

─── GROUPIE LOVE ✮ T.NOTT

⸝⸝ popular bf!theodore x antisocial gf!reader 𓏲 ࣪₊

“It's so hard sometimes with the star, when you have to share him with everybody.”

—IN WHICH you’re tired of feeling like your boyfriend’s groupie.

warnings/tags: cursing, google translated italian, smut, oral (f rec), angst, fluff

song: groupie love - lana del ray ft. asap rocky

authors note: i’m lowk stalling on my rafe fic so im sorry but it’ll come soon

Theodore had never been a loud lover. He was quiet in the way he appreciated you, murmured sweet nothings, private meetups. And it was nice. For a while.

You knew you weren’t popular, or well known, and for the majority of your time at Hogwarts, you didn’t care. You enjoyed hiding in the shadows, doing what you pleased without any watchful eyes to question you. It was peaceful.

But it started to gnaw at you—the differences in the way you and Theodore received attention.

Girls, no, women. women flocked after theodore like bees to honey and it haunted you.

It wasn’t a secret that he was drop dead gorgeous, with his rough italian accent, the one he had when he murmured words of praise to you during your nightly meetups. And until now, it had never occurred to you that he’d done that before, to another girl, another person. Another girl had heard his voice, all gruff and laced with leisure.

It made you wonder, were you like his past conquests? No, you weren’t a conquest, per se. He'd told you you meant everything to him.

So why were his hands gently brushing that girl's arm?

Why was his smile suave, his canines bared as he laughed at a joke she made? You were overreacting, surely. he was just *talking* to her for merlin’s sake.

But she was gorgeous, frighteningly so. Her pin straight blonde hair, her melodious laugh, the way her perfectly manicured fingernails grazed his fore-arm.

You felt like everything you were watching was in slow motion, the way she flipped her goddamn perfect blonde hair. You hated her, you decided. You didn’t know her name, age, or her life. But you hated her.

You could feel the weird looks passer-byers gave you, watching you stand in the literal center of the hallway, hands desperately clutching your potions textbook tight to your chest, the little crease in your brow Theo always smoothed over, and the clench of your jaw.

She stepped closer to him—and God, your breath hitched, throat tightening. You hated yourself in that moment, completely and utterly loathed the beating pulse of your heart in your chest. You wanted to reach in your chest and pull it out, all bloodied and fleshy, the beat still thumping in your hand. Thump, thump, thump.

That was the first time it had happened. from then the attention only seemed to worsen your relationship. the distance didn’t make your heart grow fonder, it made it rot in resent, the bitter pill of jealousy hard to swallow.

You were sure this had never happened before. Did he somehow get hotter? Or did you just never notice the female attention he got? Did he manage to hide it before? Did he not love you anymore?

You felt like a goddamn groupie, desperately trying to find time to spend with him, only for him to kiss your forehead, mutter an excuse about studying, or quidditch, or smoking with matteo. It felt like you were drawing straws, each one missing an end.

And so, you pulled away.

For you, it was easy. You had a life before Theo—not a very riveting one, but it was a life, no less. You threw yourself into studies, journaled occasionally. All the things you used to do periodically before you had Theodore.

And for him? It was hell. He was oblivious to your turmoil, trying to catch you in the halls, in the common room. He knew he hadn’t been spending as much time with you lately, but did that really elicit this distance?

It was a Friday when he’d finally caught you, late at night almost one. You were carrying your usual stack of books in your arm, satchel strap resting on your shoulder as you muttered the password to the slytherin common room and slipped inside.

Your black mary janes padded softly on the floor, creeping back to your dorm, hopefully unperturbed.

Then his voice came. Raspy, a bit rough, like he’d been smoking. Which he was.

“Late as always.” Theo, murmured, a gust of cigarette smoke following right after.

You turned, slow and cautious, like you were an action figure on a rotating circuit. You dug the toe of your shoe into the floor, knuckles growing white with each second.

“Studying.” Was all you said, not giving him too much.

“Alone?” He implored, head finally lifting, eyes tearing away from the flicker of fireplace flames, his emerald irises landing on your figure. You suddenly felt small, like how you used to feel when girls would tease you, before you and Theodore started—whatever this was. You hadn’t felt like this in a *long* time.

It was if he could sense your unease, his cool demeanor faltering a bit, brows furrowing in worry. But his concern quickly dissipated at your answer, jaw tightening once more.

“Does it matter?”

Those three words alone made Theo's mind spin with a flurry of haunting images—you with another boy, laughing, touching, solving stupid potions equations together.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” He countered in another question, his frustration taking over his body. He stood from the leather couch, walking over to you with quick strides, his cigarette forgotten.

“Do you know how worried I've been? Dio, sei così frustrante(god, you’re so frustrating).” He groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Why do you even care?!” You shot back, your words fueled by a quick, burst of anger, the bottled up emotions from that moment in the hall and the events of the week swirling within you.

“Because you’re mine! mio! You are mine and I swear, if another guy-“

You laughed, sharp and bitter. “Oh right, as if you haven’t had girls all over you this week-“

*That* confused him. His anger dissipated a bit, now morphing in a frustrated kind of confusion, one that made his brows furrow deeper, eyes narrowing.

“Quali ragazze(what girls)? Amore, what the fuck are you talking about?” He scoffed, stepping a bit closer to you.

Your jaw clenched, the force so hard your teeth slid across each other, grinding together. “Fuck- Theodore, I- I saw you,” You began, eyes clenching shut, as if you were clearing your blurry vision, opening again and landing on his irritable expression.

“On Tuesday, in the hall. That girl you were with, the way she was touching you,” Your stomach flipped at the memory, eyes glossing over a bit. You swallowed tears threatening to fall, stepping away from him. “Just- just go. I can't look at you.”

Theo's face dropped, a pang of dread settling deep in his chest, panic making its way onto his usually relaxed features.

“No, no- amore,” he caught your wrist, tugging your body back to his with ease. “That wasn’t- it’s not-“ He groaned aloud, clearly torn.

“It wasn't like that, I swear.”

“Well it felt like that,” you snapped quickly, despair morphing into a bout of anger. You wiped at a nonexistent tear, sighing shakily.

“I feel like your fucking groupie, Theo. I'm constantly chasing you, begging you for your time. I can't keep sharing you with everyone else.” you explained, a bit choked.

“Baby.. bambina, no, no,” he spoke desperately, voice a vying plea. He cupped your rosy cheeks, thumbs wiping at the few tears that had managed their way down your flushed skin.

“i’m sorry- fuck, i’m such a stronzo.” he stroked your cheeks, melting at the doe like way your eyes shone up at him, a bit teary.

“I only want you, va bene? That girl, she was a classmate. We were just talking about how much we hate Snape.”

“Yeah well-“ you sniffled, hand coming up to pry his hand off your cheek, demeanor still cold, walls still up. “She was clearly flirting with you. and I can't handle this anymore.”

“I don’t give a fuck about her,” he spoke quickly, a bit harsh, not mad at you, but at her, at himself for allowing it to even happen. “I only care about you. please. Please let me make it up to you.”

And, you let him.

His tousled chestnut hair tickled your inner thighs as you planted your fingers at his roots, jaw slack to release pants and gasps. 

His lips were closed around your clit, sucking, alternating between hard and soft to bring you to your peak. You knew this probably wasn’t the most mature way to resolve your issues, but you couldn’t complain.

His eyes flickered up every now and then, studying your reaction, changing his movements to please you. His tongue flattered against your slick folds, licking a stripe up your slit. He relished in the cry you let out, lips curling into something of a smirk.

“Oh- oh! Theo, f-fuck, please, please-“ your words were abruptly cut off by the shock of your orgasm, heels digging into his back as your body scrambled to find something to hold, to ground yourself on. Pleasure shot up your spine in little sparks, and Theo continued through your orgasm, pulling away only when your breaths started to even out. He pulled away with a satisfied hum, lips slick with your cum, tongue darting out to collect it like a reward.

He planted wet kisses up your body. Your hips, then your stomach, then your chest, neck. Each one felt like a promise, a wordless declaration of his unwavering love for you.

“Do you believe me now?” He practically purred in your ear, kissing at the skin right underneath, hand coming to wrap around your waist and pulling you into him.

Girls could flirt with theo, fawn over him. But at the end of the day, you knew he was yours, and you were his. Forever, irrevocably in love.

© 𝐄𝐒𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓 please refrain from copying, translating or claiming my work as yours .ᐟ

[spectorgram]

the letter

theodore nott x f! reader summary: you get a letter from a secret admirer who wants to confess. your best friend is none too pleased. notes: jealous! theodore nott >>> word count: 1.4k

You would think for a magical school, Hogwarts would have better heating or some heating spell, but the Slytherin dorms are frigid as usual as winter creeps up. You fasten your robe clasps and draw it tighter around you, simultaneously trying to tug your skirt down in a futile way to heat yourself up more. Your knee-high socks only do so much and you pretty much give up on the endeavor as you climb up the stairs and head for the Great Hall. 

You’re immediately greeted by the cozy warmth of the hall, spotting your friends, all swathed in green and silver robes and knits. Theo spots you first, sliding over and nearly knocking Blaise off the bench. “Blood hell, mate,” Blaise grumbles as you approach, kicking Theo’s leg lightly. 

You slip into the space created for you, right in between Theo and Enzo. You stifle a yawn and ask, “Can someone pass the eggs and bacon?”

As Enzo reaches for both platters, Theo’s eyes zero in on your legs. “How are you not cold?”

You frown. “I am,” you reply, piling your breakfast onto your plate, “but Pansy’s demon cat apparently thought my winter tights were toys and decided to scratch them all up.”

Pansy sighs, “I’ve ordered you new ones, calm down.” 

Theo drapes his robe over your legs and you smile gratefully at him. He smiles back and your heart flips. You don’t think you’ll ever get over how beautiful he is — all dark caramel curls and long lashes that frame those devastatingly blue eyes. He’s been your best friend since you started Hogwarts and you knew you loved him at first sight. The longer you’ve known him, the more you’ve fallen for him. 

It’s a tale as old as the world itself: you’re hopelessly in love with your best friend but you value your friendship far too much to do anything to jeopardize it.

“Mail’s here,” you hear someone say down the table. You look up to the ceiling, which has been enchanted to look like a sky that’s about to break open and drop snowflakes from its clouds. Owls soar in through the openings at the top of the walls, diving down towards their intended recipients. 

“Maybe your new tights are here,” Enzo says. 

Pansy adds, “I hope so. Then you’ll stop complaining about it.”

You snort, reaching up to grab a letter dropped by your family owl. You feed her a piece of scrambled egg as she takes off back towards the owlery. You tuck your parents’ letter into the inner pocket of your robe just as another owl swoops overhead, dropping a pale blue envelope on your lap. 

“Who’s that from?” asks Pansy. 

You shrug, using your butter knife to open it up. As you do, Draco grumbles at Mattheo: “For the love of Salazar, stop hogging the pastry basket.”

You skim over the letter addressed to you. You tilt your head in confusion and Blaise asks, “What’s it say?”

Enzo peeks over your shoulder and his face breaks into a smirk. “‘Meet me at the Astronomy Tower at midnight tonight. Signed, Your Secret Admirer.’” he reads.

“What?” Theo suddenly snatches the letter from your hand. You watch in confusion as his eyes dart back and forth. His shoulders tense and his mouth purses into a thin, hard line. 

“You doing okay there, Nott?” Matthew asks, shooting a simpering smile at his friend. Theo sends a glare back but doesn’t say anything, the letter’s paper crinkling under his grip. 

Pansy asks, “Are you going to go?”

You hesitate, surreptitiously glancing at Theo, startled to find that he’s gazing at you with an intensity you’ve never experienced. You pluck the letter from him and fold it neatly. “I think so,” you say. “I’m interested to see who it is.”

“Be sure to bring your wand,” Draco says. “Just in case.”

“Obviously,” you deadpan. The conversation shifts into whether anyone was prepared for midterms coming up. 

You fiddle with the letter in your lap. Theo’s silent for the whole conversation. 

You chew on your bottom lip as you reread the same sentence in your textbook for what feels like the hundredth time. The letter has stuck in your head the whole day. It crosses your mind that it could be a prank or a set-up — it’s not a secret that Slytherin isn’t the most popular House among your classmates — but you know you can handle yourself. You’re more worried about how Theo was acting at breakfast. He didn’t say a word the rest of the meal, not even when Enzo and Mattheo tried looping him into the conversation. He just sat there, sullen and gloomy, and his mood seemed to worsen more when you handed him his robe back and said you had to get to class.

You sigh heavily, trying to play out every possible scenario that could happen between you and the letter writer. You check the clock in the library: 11:45; you need to head over to the Astronomy Tower. 

You groan, gathering your things, sliding them into your bag, and making your way back to the Slytherin common room to drop off your things in your dorm. “Cacophony,” you supply to the portrait, which swings open to let you in.

The common room is blissfully silent when you enter, a welcome contrast to the mess of thoughts in your head. You’re about to head down the hall to your dorm when you collide against someone. You huff an apology but when you feel their hand on your shoulder, you look up to see Theo. He looks intense, eyes wide and glinting with sharp determination and his mouth still set in that frown from earlier. “Sorry, Theo,” you say. “Didn’t see you there. Where are you going at this hour?”

“I was going to find you,” he replies. 

“Oh,” you say. “Well, here I am. Sorry, I’ve got to drop this stuff off and then—”

“Head to the Astronomy Tower,” he finishes for you, “to meet your ‘secret admirer.’” 

You don’t like the way he sneers at the last part of his sentence or the way he uses air quotations. You’re about to respond when he says, “Don’t go.”

“What?”

“Don’t go,” he repeats.

“Why not?”

He pauses before saying, “What if it’s someone just having a laugh?”

You bristle, hurt, and you feel your temper flare. “Is it so damn hard to believe that someone might actually have a crush on me?”

Theo laughs, razor-sharp and incredulous, as if he can’t believe that you’re saying something so outrageous, “No, it’s not.”

“Then why shouldn’t I go?”

“Because I don’t want you to!”

“For Salazar’s sake, Theo, you can’t tell me what to do!”

“I know that!”

“Then are you trying to tell me not to go?”

“Because I bloody like you!”

Your heart stutters to a stop. You can only hear the sounds of both of your labored breathing and you suddenly can’t meet his eyes, trying your best to wrap your head around the fact that your feelings are reciprocated. “How long?’ you ask softly, holding your breath.

“Since first year.”

You blink. “Really?”

He rakes a hand through his hair and sighs heavily, “Mattheo’s right; you’re so oblivious.” There’s another beat of silence and he asks, a little shyly, “How do you feel?”

You can’t stop the smile that spreads across your face. “I like you too, Theo. I’ve liked you since first year as well.”

He echoes your “Really?” and it makes you giggle, “I guess we’re both oblivious.”

He joins your laughter and you let your forehead rest on his chest as your shoulders shake. When it dies down, Theo shifts you off him and lifts your chin with his forefinger, any semblance of coyness gone. You gaze into his ocean blue eyes. Salazar, you could drown in them. He offers a charming smile and he leans close, just a few centimeters away, and says, “Can I kiss you?”

Your eyelashes flutter and your voice comes out barely louder than a whisper, “I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”

Your lips meet, fervent and desperate, years of yearning releasing like water through a broken dam. Theo hooks his arms around your waist, pulling you as close as possible. You wind your arms around his neck, fingers toying with the hair at his nape. He walks you backward, slipping his tongue into mouth as he crushes you up against the wall. He deepens the kiss and your knees go weak. 

Theo moves your bag off your shoulder and drops it on the floor. The letter that rested at the top of the pile of possessions falls out, laying forgotten on the ground.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Ideas: Castles

Castles, fortresses, and fortified mansions can be military and administrative headquarters for medieval feudal overlords, romantic ruins in a nineteenth century Count's estate, or haunts for ghosts… They hold our imagination, they show up in historical fiction and fantasy alike.

Types of Castles by Location

City castle. Found in the historical centre of a medieval city, and often as the core part of a larger fortification called a citadel, the urban castle houses the ruler of said city, city-state or realm of which this city is a capital.

Rural castle. Built as a standalone structure, this type of castle was more widespread than the urban castle in Western Europe. Often castles planned as standalone structures attracted folks from nearby villages and grew towns around them, eventually becoming city castles and citadels.

Types of Castles by Construction

Motte and bailey. The most primitive kind of castle, the motte and bailey is barely above a pre-medieval hill fort. It is usually just a tower or a fortified manor standing on a hill, which may be a natural hill dug over with artificial trenches and berms or a wholly manmade mound (the motte). The motte was also outfitted with extra defences such as a wooden stockade (the bailey). Often the bailey was located sideways of the motte and did not encapsulate it; the steep slopes of the motte made walls unnecessary. Note that not all castles built on mottes are motte and bailey castles: the central section of the famous Windsor Castle, which is far from being "just a tower", has a large motte under it.

Keep and curtain wall. To improve the ability of a motte and bailey castle to withstand sieges, medieval engineers went for the most obvious decision: build a solid wall instead of a wooden stockade around the motte. They built massive walls, high enough to be unscalable without proper siege ladders, and later augmented those walls with towers. The towers provided defenders a vantage point for raining arrows onto the attackers. The tower also became more fortified and turned into a keep, or donjon - the main tower or fort of the castle, a smaller fortress inside it. Even when enemies breached or otherwise surmounted the curtain wall of the castle, the keep was able to fend them off for a while, hopefully until the relief or backup forces arrives.

Moat. To add another layer of impenetrability to the curtain wall, medieval engineers augmented it with a deep ditch, or moat, around it. The purpose of the moat was to stop the attackers from breaking castle walls with battering rams and make it harder to use siege ladders. The moat was also often filled with water to stop undermining (digging under walls to make them collapse). A drawbridge or a permanent bridge could be used to cross the moat and reach the gate.

Gatehouse. Because of the moat, the castle gate became the prime target for attempts to breach the walls and break in. So the gate naturally became more fortified, built into a large, wide tower: the gatehouse. A typical gatehouse contained a lot of security measures to make battering the gate harder: corridors, portcullises, arrow slits overlooking the bridge.

Barbican. A barbican is another fortification built to protect the gate: a second, smaller gatehouse in front of it, connected to the main one with a pair of walls.

Enceinte. An enceinte is the motte, Mk.II, now made of stone! It's an inner solid stone wall surrounding the keep, making it a castle within a castle.

Concentric castle. Combining all of the above defensive measures resulted in a complex, many-layered castle with two or more sets of curtain walls and a keep surrounded with an enceinte. Such castles were built during the Late Middle Ages.

Quadrangular castle. A late development in castle building, this style does away with the keep and turns the curtain wall into a large rectangular building with a courtyard. In essence, the curtain wall is used as the outer wall of the building.

After gunpowder artillery became the main weapon of sieges, castle architecture entered into decline.

Low-profile and complex structures with thick earth walls were needed to resist artillery bombardments, and castles made way for bastions, star forts and similar fortified structures.

However, during the period of Romanticism and Gothic literature in the XIX century, interest in castles renewed.

These "revival castles" served no defensive function and were just stylized stately homes for Blue Blood elites; the most famous example of such a castle is Neuschwanstein in Bavaria, Germany.

In the 19th and 20th century, the romantic allure of castles even inspired some non-royals with deep pockets to build them as fantasy getaways.

Source ⚜ More: Notes ⚜ Parts & Types of Castles ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

[distantdarlings]

LET ME // t. nott

RATING: R / 4.8K WORDS

Theodore Nott x Fem Reader

+ SUMMARY - *Requested, based on this* Theodore Nott has been harassing you ever since he found out you had a crush on him. Now, you’ve been paired together for a project for McGonagall’s class and he has nothing good in mind.

+ WARNINGS - SMUT! (P in V), unprotected, sub!reader, Dom!Theo, slightly rough!dom!Theo, marking kink, slight size kink, bulge kink, brief dumbification, brief spit kink, reader wearing a skirt, light enemies to lovers, language, one (1) slap, name-calling, praise kink, slight degradation, public sex, fem!reader, oral (fem!receiving), Theo is persistent, not proof read (lmk if I missed any)

+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -

Echo - XANU

- - -

Merlin, forgive whatever you had done to deserve the treatment you were currently receiving.

You thought back on every negative deed you’d done in the last year and still hadn’t found anything worthy of your horrendous luck.

The arrogant boy turned to stare you down, malicious intent etched into the unfortunately gorgeous features of his face.

You could feel your face contort into an expression of horror as you tore your eyes away from him and turned to Professor McGonagall.

“Professor, I—” you started.

“All partner decisions are final—no exceptions!” McGonagall finished, as if trying to answer the question you had before you could even voice it.

You deflated into your seat, your mood dropping like a brick. If you didn’t know any better, you’d have guessed the entire class was staring at you. The entire student body of Hogwarts knew how you felt about your new Transfiguration project partner, Theodore Nott. The bastard…

You glanced back up—arms crossed and lips pouted—just to find the boy still staring you down, evil smirk painted on his lips. He gave you a sardonic wave, wiggling his fingers tauntingly.

“Fuck,” you sighed, pressing an exasperated fist to your forehead.

Your knee anxiously bobbed beneath the desk, the heel of your uniform shoe beating against the floor in a flurried rhythm.

Luna Lovegood, your best friend, was sitting directly next to you. Intuitive as she always was, you knew she could feel the pure panic radiating off of you. Her hand rested on your shoulder in a small motion of comfort, but nothing could calm you now. You were utterly screwed.

McGonagall finished off the rest of her speech on the instructions for her project, then dismissed the whole class. Luna helped you to gather your things together as you struggled to force yourself to move.

Maybe you’d pissed McGonagall off? Merlin, what had you done to deserve this? You asked yourself the same questions over and over again.

Out of the corner of your eye, you glimpsed Theodore flouncing over to you with an unnerving glint in your eyes.

“Well, aren’t I just the luckiest man on earth?” he said snidely.

“Fuck off, Theo,” you growled, intentionally not making eye contact with him.

You made to pick up your books and slide them into your bag, when he slammed his hand down on the cover of one of them, pressing them down against the desk. He pinned your fingers beneath them against the wood—just enough to keep them sturdy, but light enough so that it didn’t hurt you.

“Stop!” You yanked your fingers out from beneath the books, the heavy leather smacking against the table with a thud. Now, you made eye contact with him.

“What are we going to do our project on, baby?” he asked.

“Don’t call me that!” You yanked your books out from underneath his strong hold and shoved them quickly into your bag. “We can discuss it in the library after class.”

“I’m looking forward to it—I’ll be sure we get a quiet corner, you know…,” he stepped closer to you, “…so I can explore every inch of…the subject.”

You sneered in disgust and pulled away from him, his voice still rattling in your ears.

“You’re disgusting,” you scoffed. “I’ll see you later for nothing more than our assignment.”

“Looking forward to it…can’t wait to put those big brains to use. Lovegood.” He nodded politely to Luna before heading off.

You glanced at Luna and acknowledged her slight smile. Everything in you was telling you to snap at her and tell her not to encourage any of the delinquent boy’s behavior, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to ever be very mad at Luna Lovegood. At least, not for long.

Instead, you rolled your eyes and took off toward the door, bag swinging between your shoulder blades.

“Wait up, friend!” Luna shouted lightly, running to catch up with you. You snorted and laughed at her, letting her sunlight hair fall into step beside you.

- - -

By the time your last class of the day dismissed and the sun had begun to sink beneath the Hogwarts skyline, you were soaked through with nerves. The saturation of your anxiety had managed to breach every protective barrier you held up, and fill your hands with shudders and your stomach with nausea.

The root of your nerves when it came to Theo came from the consistent comments he insisted on making toward you. It seemed that he loved nothing more than dropping sexual hints into your ear every few days just to watch you squirm. He’d only started this after he’d heard through the grapevine you had a bit of a thing for him.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t find him attractive, and that his words had absolutely no effect on you, but you couldn’t deny that he was just as annoying as he was charming.

It had gotten to a point when he made those comments that he loved to joke aloud about your reactions to him, effectively embarrassing you in front of all of your peers. That was your final straw. All resemblance of an attraction toward Theo had melted away and been replaced by hatred.

And yet, as your feet led you to the grand library, you couldn’t stop the rapid pattering of your heart beat. Something about the boy had always been so…irresistible to you. Whether it was the way he always knew where to place his hands when he “accidentally” brushed you, or how he knew exactly what to say when he pressed his lips against the shell of your ear. You figured you should be grossed out and tell him to get away from you, but, unfortunately, you kind of liked it when he did those things.

As you came up to one of the several library doors lining the wall before you, you decided to try and swallow your nerves and focus only on the project. That was what you were supposed to do anyway—this wasn’t a date.

You pulled one of the doors open and slipped into the warmly-lit room. It always seemed to be just a tad bit cozier here than anywhere else in the castle—whether that was from the multiple fireplaces or the sweet aroma that floated through the air. Either way, you loved it.

Your neck craned as you glanced about, trying to glimpse the cocky boy, but to no avail. Wherever he was, he surely wasn’t interested in making it easy on you to find him.

A sigh left you as you started toward the back of the library where a couple tables rested behind a few conveniently placed bookcases. Unfortunately, the feeling in your stomach told you that he surely would be sitting at one of those tables, simply because you knew how his dirty, little mind worked.

That corner of the library was…infamous for its concealed nature. Everyone in Hogwarts had heard the little rumors that fluttered about, of couples getting a bit too friendly with each other while the librarian was downstairs.

Because of those rumors, it had garnered a reputation. And if someone who had a penchant for gossip slipped past you and Theodore Nott studying back there, you’d be screwed.

Once you passed the last book case, zigzagging between the three that formed the perfect labyrinth, you came upon Theo comfortably waiting at the table in the middle. A groan of defeat left you and your head dipped back. You stared at the ceiling for a few moments while contemplating your options—you could still run away.

“Hello, beautiful,” Theo said, leaning his chin down on his propped up fists. “I’ve been waiting so impatiently for you.”

“Whatever,” you sighed. You crossed over to the table and sat across from him—the farthest away you could get. Your bag collapsed to the ground and unzipped itself on the way down. The things you needed for this assignment floated out and landed neatly on the table before you, including a few rolls of parchment, a quill and ink, and your books.

He marveled silently, seemingly trying to hide his fascination at your wandless magic. Perhaps if he studied as hard as you did, he would also be able to achieve it.

“Alright, shall we do this?” you asked, maintaining a bored expression.

“I’d love to,” he smirked. “But I’d love to showcase a bit of my magic as well, if that’s alright with you?”

“What—?” Your voice was cut off with a slight gasp as all four legs of your chair lifted off of the ground. Your fingers wrapped around the sides of your seat to keep you from slipping off.

Theo’s eyes followed your chair as it floated over the table and all the way beside him. Once your shoulders were inches from his, your chair dropped a few centimeters to the ground. A small yelp came from you as you regained your balance and glared at him. Perhaps he was a better wizard than you thought.

“What the hell, Theo?” you demanded, immediately scooting your chair away from him, putting a good few inches between you.

“I just thought we’d be able to work better closer together,” he purred, his arm dropping against the table to cage you against him and the bookshelf a bit to your left. You eased away from him so you were closer to the shelves than you were to him. His eyes never dropped from yours. “Merlin, what is that smell? You smell absolutely divine—”

“Okay, let’s just get this done,” you interrupted him, pushing his approaching body back away from you.

“Mm, alright,” he smiled. “Have you decided on a topic you’re interested in presenting on?”

“Actually, I have.” You pulled your books across the table over to where the two of you were sitting, flipping everything to the appropriate page. There were a couple pages in your notebook where you’d jotted some ideas down earlier today, and you’d figured he’d want to see the different ideas, as it was his grade, as well. “So, I threw a couple of ideas together in my fourth period. We can see what you think of them…”

As you explained the details of all of your ideas, it became increasingly obvious that Theo was not at all interested in what you had to say about the project. Though you refused to look directly at him, the corner of your eyes granted more than enough knowledge.

Theo’s eyes were ravenous as they drew down your body, curving across the most private areas of your curves with no shame. You could feel your cheeks burning, but hoped the warm tones from the candles around you would conceal that.

When he scooted a bit closer to you, you kept talking. And when he laid his arm across the back of your chair, you kept talking. And when his fingers began to toy with the ends of your hair, you kept talking. But when he took your quill gently from your fingers and set it down on the table, you finally stopped. You barely made eye contact with him, constantly glancing away and down to the table. You could feel your heartbeat in your ears.

His fingers pulled away from your hair and dropped to your shoulder. They squeezed the hard muscles a few times.

“God, you seem tense,” he spoke lowly, his voice barely above a whisper. His other hand reached up and matched the opposite’s position on your other shoulder.

When he placed a gentle amount of pressure, it expressed a small sigh from your lips. He was right. You were very tense—in general, but especially around him.

“Here, let me…,” he stood and appeared behind you rather quickly.

“Theo, I don’t think this is appropriate. I’d really just—” Your voice cut off as soon as he began to roll your taut muscles beneath his nimble fingers. Your eyes fluttered shut at the sensation, pleasurable jolts of pain shocking across your neck and down your back.

“That’s okay, baby,” he whispered, dangerously close to your ear. “Finish telling me about your idea. I’ll just loosen some things up back here. Fuck, you’re so tight.”

He pressed an especially hard drive against your skin. You bit back a moan at the sensation. You don’t think you’d ever had a better massage in your life.

You wanted to tell him to stop, but it felt so fucking good. And you really were sore around your neck and shoulders.

“Theo?” you tried again.

“Read.” His voice had a commanding tone to it. One hand released your shoulder briefly to grab your books and slide them closer to you, before returning to its position against your skin.

His hands worked their way up around your jaw, cupping it gently, so he could press his thumbs against the back of your neck. You audibly sighed this time without intending to. Embarrassed, you attempted to cover it up with a clear of your throat.

You began to explain the rest of your project plan, small shudders rippling through your voice every time he’d hit an especially sore spot.

By the time he finished and pulled his hands away from you, your body was mourning the loss of him but relishing in the relief it felt. It honestly hadn’t felt far off from a professional massage.

“How’s that?” He walked around to your side, still not sitting back down.

“Er, good,” you chuckled nervously, rubbing your hand along the back of your neck, trying to spread the relief around.

“Perfect,” he smiled, gently swiping his index finger beneath your chin. He sat back down beside you.

“So, what do you think?” you asked.

“About what?”

“The project idea…”

“Oh, yeah, I think it’s wonderful,” he said, shrugging a bit. “I think we can work with it.”

“Theo, did you even listen?” you asked, rolling your eyes.

“Of course, I did,” he chuckled. “It’s just not easy to focus when you have such a gorgeous partner.”

There went your cheeks getting insanely hot again. He thought you were gorgeous? There was no way. Someone must have put him up to this, right? Or he was fucking with you because he knew you had had a bit of a crush on him.

“I—er…” you stuttered hopelessly, pulling your eyes away from his.

He placed a hand on your knee. You could feel the warmth of his skin through your tights. The heartbeat in your ears picked up wildly.

“Don’t be nervous around me.”

“What?” you laughed suddenly. “I’m not nervous, I’m just—you’re just really…friendly? I don’t know. Why are you pretending to be so interested in me? Did someone put you up to it?”

“Why would someone have put me up to flirting with you?” he asked, genuinely confused.

“Because they know I had a thing for you,” you blurted before thinking. “I mean—”

“Nope! Can’t take it back now, my love.” Theo chuckled, an evil smirk printing across his lips. “And, for the record, no one put me up to flirting with you. I just want to.”

His hand slid up to the top of your knee as he leaned a bit forward.

“Theo!” you hissed. “We’re in the library—you can’t do that.” Though you verbally protested his actions, you couldn’t deny the heat building in your stomach at his touch.

Despite the conviction you had for needing to decline him and all of his advances, you couldn’t seem to suppress the need you felt for him right now—a different kind. His eyes remained on yours and refused to look away.

The two of you were in the library, and had seemed to despise each other’s company only minutes earlier, but for some reason, you couldn’t force yourself to stop his rising hand.

Soon, his fingers were toying with the edge of your skirt and his lips were millimeters from your own. You could feel his gentle breath against your cheeks.

“Theo…,” you shuddered at his proximity. His thumb slid slowly down the side of your thigh, the contact eliciting chills along your legs.

“You’ve wanted me for months,” he murmured, lips brushing against yours. “Are you finally going to let me fuck you?”

You gasped slightly as the tip of his thumb just barely brushed your core through your panties.

“Say yes, or I’m not going to touch you anymore.”

As if on cue, his hands pulled back from you and his mouth seemed to hover a few inches away. The cold air hit the spot his hand had been occupying on your thigh and sent a row of shivers up your spine.

“I don’t understand. Is this a joke?” you shuddered.

He shook his head slowly. “Not a joke, I just want you. Say yes, baby.”

“Y—” before you were even able to get the singular syllable out, his lips were pressing against yours and devouring them like a predator.

His hand found its place against your thigh again, the other hand following suit on the other one. He pushed them up the expanse of your skin, inching your skirts up in the process.

You moaned against his lips in embarrassment at the sudden loss of dignity.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he sighed against your mouth. “Let me taste you.” He pressed his lips roughly back to yours.

You gasped for air and pulled away, noses brushing against the other. “Say please,” you managed to choke out.”

“What?”

“Say please,” you repeated. “What, did you think I was going to come here and just give you whatever you wanted?”

“Oh, that’s how you’re going to be?” he smirked. You stared back astutely, not yielding to any teasing he tried to give.

“Alright, baby,” he conceded. He pulled himself closer to you and worked his way up your neck and to your ear, pressing chaste kisses against your flesh. “Please let me taste this sweet cunt. ‘ve been dreaming about it for months.”

You shivered at his words before nodding. You weren’t in your right mind—you couldn’t be.

He slid out of his chair and dropped to his knees. His hands wrapped around your hips and yanked you to the edge of the seat. His fingers pushed your skirt up around your hips and angled you up toward his face, pulling your legs over each of his shoulders.

The cool air flushed against the hot wetness slathered across your thighs. But the shock of wintry air was canceled out quickly by Theo’s hot mouth placing against your clothed core.

Your head fell back against the chair as your hands flew to his honeyed curls.

He swirled his lips across you, gathering your lust on his tongue. Each time you let a little moan slip, he’d echo you with his own louder one. It wasn’t loud enough to be heard anywhere else in the library, but it was enough to vibrate against you and send your head spinning.

The second your thighs began to shake on either side of his sharp jaw, he pulled away from you, leaving you bare and wanting.

“Turn around,” he panted, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Obstinately, you held your chin up and refused to obey him. You wanted to appear strong and resistant as payment for how much of a dick he’d been to you, but with your quivering lips and legs still spread wide for him, you figured you didn’t quite get the point across.

He suddenly grabbed your jaw in one hand, while undoing his belt buckle with the other. Anticipation boiled in your belly.

“Turn around,” he said before suddenly and mockingly tilting his head to the side. “Or do you not understand what’s good for you?”

When you said nothing, he pulled you out of the chair and bent you over the library table. You yelped as your chest collided with the table.

Once on your stomach, he flipped your skirt over against your back and ripped your panties and stockings down your legs until the soaked things were stuck around your ankles.

Then, without another warning, he was sliding into you and stretching you wide. You gasped aloud and gripped at the smooth table, begging to find purchase on anything.

He moaned slightly at the way you clenched around him. He pushed himself into you a little more with each slow thrust, the movement splitting you down the middle. His hands held you tightly in place by your hips, pinning you down against the table.

“Shit, you feel fucking perfect,” he moaned, fingers gripping into your flesh.

Every alarm bell was ringing in your head, telling you to separate and cover yourselves, because you were in public. But, for some reason, you found yourself loving the thrill of possibly being walked in on; of possibly being found with Theodore Nott buried deep inside of you, taking his pleasure from your body.

By the time he’d finally bottomed out inside of you, he was panting and willing himself not to come prematurely.

“I’ve never felt anything this tight,” he groaned.

You hadn’t been able to see the size of him before he started pushing into you, but you had to guess he was the biggest you’d ever felt. Just having his hips pressed to your ass felt like the tip of him was brushing your cervix.

“Ah, fuck, wait,” he said, panting heavily. He rubbed your back as he slowly pulled all the way out of you and stood you up. He turned you around to face him and laid your back against the table.

He brought your legs around him and you hooked them together behind his back. You watched him with deep admiration as his fingers stroked up and down your legs, preparing to explain what he wanted.

“I want to watch me fill you up,” he whispered, leaning down to press a slow kiss to your lips. It was sweet and thick with saliva but, despite everything else he’d done so far, this set off a flurry of butterflies in your stomach.

His hands came away from your legs and wrapped around your waist. He watched addictively as his fingers curled entirely around your body, his large hands positively dwarfing your small frame. And you could’ve sworn you saw his eyes fill with an inky, black glint as he brought his hips to the underside of your thighs.

He placed his dick on your stomach, reveling in how far up your stomach it went. He moaned at the sight and pulled your right leg up and over his shoulder. He pressed a small kiss to the side of your calf.

“Theo,” you whined, still reeling from the loss of him inside of you. “Please, no more teasing.”

“Be patient, baby,” he whispered against your leg. “I want to remember this moment.”

“Theo,” you urged once more. But his hand came down hard against the outer side of your thigh. You yelped at the pain that radiated down the side of your leg.

“I said to be patient.” He soothed the pain gently with his fingers, still looking down at how big he looked compared to you.

One of the things he’d always had on you was height. No matter if the things he said were stupid and undermining, you couldn’t deny that his size was enough to have the high ground.

“Look, we don’t have all the time in the world,” you sighed, leaning up on your elbows to speak with him. “The librarian could walk in here at any—”

He pushed back into you, choking any other words in your throat. You gasped and fell back against the wooden table, the cold lacquer biting into your flesh.

“Fuck,” Theo all but whined. He pressed his fingers against your lower abdomen where his dick had created a perfect impression. Every time he pulled out then pushed back in, his sheer size forced the body wall up and simultaneously probed a spot inside of you that had your eyes rolling backward.

Without wasting another second, he picked up his pace while dropping his hands down to your still-tucked in uniform shirt. He ripped the material out from beneath the waistband of your skirt, and ripped the buttons apart.

The candles floating overhead illuminated the curves and dips of your stomach, highlighting the valley of your breasts.

Hips still pistoning into you, and left hand holding your waist still, his right hand reached forward again and ripped the clip of your bra apart. Luckily, you’d worn the front access one today.

At the force of the destruction, your breasts fell apart from one another, bouncing against your dampened chest.

“Fuck,” he growled. “Gonna mark this beautiful body. Gonna let everyone know you’re mine. My girl.”

His words sent shockwaves through your system. You tried to reach for him but you couldn’t reach. Your arms fell back down against the table, your lack of anything to hold on to leaving you completely at the mercy of the pace he decided to set.

“T-Theo,” you stuttered, your voice breaking beneath the weight of his abuse.

He leaned down, pushing himself all the way into you for a moment, and latched his lips around a mouthful of your left breast. He sucked roughly on the flesh, pulling the blood to the surface. You whined through the pain that mingled with the pleasure from him below.

Once he was satisfied with the bruise painted on you, he moved toward your neck, sucking and biting just as rough, hips never halting.

“That’s it, baby,” he whispered. “Tell me how it feels.” He nibbled on your earlobe.

You said nothing, your lips unable to form enough to make any words come out. Your fingers still gripped uselessly at the sides of the table. One leg was held uselessly over Theo’s shoulder while the other dangled limply over the edge of the table.

He leaned up. “Tell me how it feels, baby.”

Still, you made no sound.

“Oh, you pathetic thing,” he whispered, lips pressing to your elevated leg once again. “Am I fucking you stupid? Is that what it is? Yeah, baby? Next time, I’ll shove this dick down your throat and see how quiet you are then, you dumb slut.”

Now, within the final moments before your finish, his thumb dropped to your clit and began to rub small circles into the nerves. Your mouth fell open and your back arched to the ceiling as his hips intensified. They forced your finish closer and closer until you were spilling all over him, coating your legs and his stomach.

At the clenching of your core, his release was barreling forward, as well. He came with a long groan and a slow walk down of the brutal pace he’d set with his hips. His spend, mixed with yours, dripped down your legs.

Finally, with him still inside of you, he leaned forward and pressed his forehead to yours. He eyed you sweetly, caressing soothing lines across your temple with his thumb.

“My sweet girl, you did so well,” he whispered against your lips. “Has anyone else ever fucked you so well?” There was that cocky Theo again.

“Maybe like one other person,” you gasped, trying to catch your breath.

“Oh, yeah? Who?” he asked, suddenly grabbing your jaw again and forcing you to look directly at him.

“Hmm, I’m not sure,” you said. “I think I forgot his name. I’ll probably just forget yours tomorrow, too.” You teased him meanly, smirk building on your lips. This was further payback for all the months of harassment you’d dealt with from him.

He pinched your cheeks together until your lips were pushed open.

“You can forget my name, sweetheart,” he whispered roughly, “but you’ll never forget what I just did to this body.”

His eyes watched yours with an intensity like no other. Then his lips pursed, and you watched as a line of spit dropped into your waiting mouth. It was the ultimate display of humiliation, but also ownership. You belonged to Theo, now.

And even if you forced yourself to forget his name or this day in the library, you’d never wipe the taste of his claim out of your mouth.

“Now, let’s get to work on that attitude, shall we?” Theo asked, voice suddenly chipper again.

He pulled out of you and zipped his pants back up, before selecting his bag off of the chair—which you’d now noticed he hadn’t even unpacked.

“Tomorrow at 6?” he asked.

Then he Disapparated, leaving you entirely exposed and alone.

That son of a bitch.

- - -

Tag List:

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[simp-for-love]

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obsessed!Theodore Nott x femReader

Theo was a constant in your life — loyal, collected, always here for you. But you didn’t know all the truth. That there was something else behind his usually quiet and perfect behavior.

Warnings: mdni! dubcon smut, oral (f!receiving), fingering, unprotected p in v, dark themes, obsession, mentions of physical violence, unhealthy attachment, stalking, possessive behavior, emotional manipulation, swearing

Word count: ~ 4k

A/N: it's a darkish and intense work (at least comparing to my previous ones). Theo here is a mix of an obsessed and whipped man, so be aware and enjoy ♡

You never really noticed the way Theo looked at you. Not really. You thought he was quiet, maybe a little cold, sometimes too intense — but he was your friend. The one who always stood behind you when the world felt too loud. The one who said little, but when he did, it mattered.

But there had been something else behind his silence. Something that rotted in the shadows of his mind.

Something you never saw. Something he fed daily.

The thing was... he had known everything about you.

Your perfume. The specific brand of lip balm you used. The way you liked your tea when you were tired. The quiet sound you made when stretching in the morning.

You’d never told him those things.

You didn’t need to. Because Theo watched. All the time.

He watched you like it was second nature. Not with hunger, not with heat — no, that would have been too pale, too simple.

It had been deeper than that. More corrosive. More calculating. He watched you the way a predator watched the one thing it didn’t want to destroy, the one thing it wanted to keep.

Your laugh in the Great Hall? Etched into the folds of his memory, replaying over and over again. The bookmark you had left in the library? In his drawer now, tucked near your hairpins that you had left on your study evening. That ring that you suddenly “lost” last month? He carried it in his pocket like a prayer.

And when you looked at him — really looked at him, like he wasn’t just the quiet best friend always at your side — he felt like his ribs were splitting open and his insides mushing together.

He knew what flavor of shampoo you used. Bought it just to open the cap and breathe you in when no one was watching. He had memorized the way your lips moved when you were tired and too lazy to form full words. He had thought about tracing them with his fingers, then with his tongue, then with his dick. Just to see the difference, just to feel it.

You didn’t know that he had thought about you every time he touched himself either. That he replayed your voice in his head at night, imagining your soft little moans until he came in his hand messily with your name caught between his gritted teeth. That he had stopped seeing other girls — not because he couldn’t, but because they weren’t you.

And the worst part? You trusted him. You came to him with your sadness and problems, with your laughter and smiles. You didn’t know what it did to him. You had no idea how hard he gripped the table when you rested your hand on his arm. How many times he had bitten the inside of his cheek until it bled, just to stop himself from saying something like, “Don’t leave me. Ever." How many times he had stopped himself from locking you in his dorm forever, so only he could see you, only he could touch you.

He didn’t love you, no. Love was too soft, too gentle a word for the things he felt. What he felt was bigger. Sharper. Darker. Possession layered in silk. Longing dressed in quiet rage. And you shouldn’t have known about it. Because you would’ve run away. But of course, it couldn’t have been kept forever like that.

It happened at a party. Some Gryffindor’s birthday — loud music, too many people, smuggled firewhisky in floating goblets. You had only agreed to come because Theo said he would too. And you had felt safe with him. You always did.

He leaned against the wall, eyes fixed on you like he didn’t even notice the chaos around him. Like nothing else mattered but the shape of your happy smile and the way your hips moved slightly to the music. You looked like a goddess under the low, flickering lights. Too ethereal. Too unaware.

You worn that dress. The one that clung to your hips and dipped too low at the back. The one that made already unhinged thoughts in Theo’s head go wild.

He didn't blame you — you didn’t know any better. But they did. The way they all looked at you. The way one of them, some Hufflepuff prick with too straight teeth and a hand that lingered on your elbow, leaned in to say something in your ear.

Theo didn't hear the words from that distance. But he didn’t really need to. Because your laugh was too soft and bright, and your smile too kind and sweet, and that guy’s hand was still there.

Theodore’s jaw had tightened, his nails biting into his palm. Something dark and obnoxious bit his insides, trying to crawl outside. He pictured that guy's hands breaking. Their teeth scattered across stone floors. He imagined slamming his fist into the boy's face, feeling the satisfying give of cartilage, watching as his nose erupted in a bloom of red. He wanted to paint the stone floor with the fucker’s blood, to mark his territory.

He didn't feel bad about those thoughts. No. No one got to want you. No one got to even think about you like that. Not when he had already filled pages of his journal with your name. Not when he had rewritten the ending of his life a hundred times, and every version began and ended with only you.

He didn't move at first. He just watched.

Stone still. A glass of firewhisky untouched in his hand. His eyes sharp, cold, narrowed — dissecting, measuring, calculating just how close the boy was standing. How long it would take to break every finger on that fucking wandering hand. How long until he could press you into the wall and make you understand.

You were his. Only his.

You just didn't know it yet. Didn't know the depths of his obsession, the sheer intensity of his desire. That he collected pieces of you over the years like a man possessed. He had you, in fragments, in shards, in a thousand stolen moments. And he would never let you go. Not now and not ever. You were his, and he would destroy anyone who tried to take you away from him. Starting with the prick who dared to touch you, to smile at you, to breathe in your direction.

The thoughts pulsed through him like throbbing venom. And when the boy brushed a knuckle down your arm — too casually, too fucking familiar — something dark and vicious inside Theo finally snapped.

He slowly set the glass down and walked across the room with leisurely, steady steps. Controlled. Dangerous. His gaze fixed on the guy like a blade.

He was behind you in seconds, smooth and quiet as smoke. His hand wrapped around your wrist, deceptively gentle, as he leaned in close. His voice was nothing but silk dipped in poison.

“You look like you need air.”

He didn't wait. Just tugged your wrist gently but firmly, like he did it a thousand times before. Like you should follow. And you did, stumbling a little in your heels as he pulled you through the people to the corridor and down a quiet hallway, away from the crowd to his dorm.

“Theo,” you exclaimed with a smile, half-laughing. “What are you—?”

“Don’t.” His voice was surprisingly rough now. Too raw. Too real. You didn’t hear Theo speak to you like that before. “Don’t laugh. Don’t act like he wasn’t trying to fuck you right there in the middle of the room in front of everyone.”

You blinked, startled both by his tone and his words. “What? No, Theo, he wasn’t—”

“He was.” He finally stopped and turned to you. The hall was dim, lit only by the soft glow of torches. His jaw clenched, eyes roaming over your face, your lips, the sliver of your soft bare skin at your collarbone. “And you let him.”

“But, Theo, I didn’t—”

“You did.” He stepped forward, and you instinctively took one back, only to find yourself against the stone wall. His voice softened, but it didn’t lose its intensity. “You don’t get it, do you, sciocca?”

His hand rose slowly and came up to touch your face, knuckles brushing your jaw. Gentle. Reverent. Obsessed.

“You never get it,” Theo whispered feverishly, almost to himself this time, thumb tracing the curve of your cheek like he was trying to memorize it through touch alone. His eyes were dark now, not just from the shadows of the light, but from something dangerous and simmering that you hadn’t seen there until now.

You swallowed thickly, throat suddenly feeling too tight. “Theo, you—you’re scaring me.”

That made him flinch, just barely. His jaw ticked slightly, and for a second, his hand pulled away, but only for a moment. Then it was back, cradling your face fully now, holding you like something precious and fragile, like something sacred.

“I’d never hurt you, dolce,” he murmured frantically and almost miserably. “But you don’t see how easy it is for someone else to try. How easy it is for them to look at you, to touch you like you aren't mine.”

You froze at his words, at the intensity and desperation in them. “Yours?” you asked quietly.

A flicker of something cruel twisted in his mouth, not quite a smile, more like a dark smirk. “I tried not to say it. Merda, I really tried. Thought I could keep it inside, just—just let it rot there in my chest like everything else. But then you walked in, looking like a fucking goddess in that dress. Letting him—” He broke off, eyes narrowing like he was reliving it. “And I couldn’t. I fucking couldn’t anymore.”

Your breath caught when he leaned in, not touching you, but close enough that you could feel his words burn across your lips.

“I thought about you every damn night, you know that? I know how you sleep. What makes you sigh. What makes you bite your pretty lower lip. What happy songs you hum under your breath when you think no one's listening.”

“Theo, that’s—” you started, heart hammering too loud in your chest, “that’s not normal.”

He laughed, soft, low, and wicked. “No, it isn’t. It isn’t normal. But nothing about you and me was ever going to be normal, was it?”

He was so close now that you couldn’t look anywhere else. His hand was back on your face, and the other slid around your waist, pulling you flush against him. You gasped — not because it hurt, but because of how good it felt, how right. How terrifyingly right it was to be in his arms.

“You want honesty?” he murmured lowly and velvety. “I dream about you every night. About fucking you so slow you would cry and whimper prettily. I dream about you on your knees, looking up at me with those beautiful and confused big eyes. I want you soft. I want you ruined. I want you to beg. I want you mine.”

You couldn’t breathe. You felt almost entranced by his words, by the weighted meaning of them, by the dark glint in his intense gaze that pinned you to the place.

“I'm not your friend,” he continued, voice dropping to a hot whisper on your skin, “Not anymore. Not with the things I think in my head. Not with the way I feel.”

He pressed his forehead to yours, closing his eyes for a moment, like he was praying, like he was trying to hold himself together by sheer force of will.

"I tried to be good for you. I really did. I kept my distance, swallowed every fucked-up thought, every fantasy, every urge to lock the door and keep you where only I could see you. But tonight… when he touched you—” His hand tightened at your waist, and the next words came almost as a growl from his lips. “All I could think was mine, mine, mine.”

You could shove him away, you knew that. But your body betrayed you, staying still, pressed against him and the wall. Your heart was screaming and skin burning beneath his touch. You didn’t move, you didn’t stop him. Just looked at him in awe and confusion. And that was all the permission he needed.

Theo leaned in slowly, giving you a second, just one quick moment to pull away. You didn’t. His lips brushed yours, soft and trembling at first, like he was tasting something forbidden and sacred, before his mouth crashed down on yours in a kiss that seared and stung.

It wasn’t sweet. It wasn’t tentative. It was absolutely desperate. The kiss was a storm. His tongue invaded your mouth, teeth grazing your bottom lip like he was trying to taste your blood running underneath it. He groaned deeply and wrecked when you kissed him back, your fingers tangling in the fabric of his shirt in a frantic attempt to anchor yourself in this assault.

“That’s it,” he breathed against your lips, “just like that, mia ragazza. That’s how it should be.”

His words pooled in your stomach like wildfire, bringing needy heat in its wake. He kissed you again, even harder this time. Hands gripped your hips so tight you knew there’d be bruises. He didn’t care, neither did you.

One hand slid up your spine, tangling in your hair, pulling just enough to make your head tilt back, your throat exposed to his ravenous mouth. He pressed kisses down your neck, tongue flicking against your pulse point, feeling the desperate beat of your heart underneath. You gasped — and fuck, he smiled.

"You like that, huh?” he murmured with a wicked grin against your skin. And it wasn’t a question, it was a statement. “You like when I take control. When I ruin you a little. Don’t you, bella?”

You shouldn’t have. You shouldn’t have loved the way he made you feel. Like the most wanted thing in the world, like your body was sacred and his obsession was holy. But you did. And when his hand slipped under the hem of your dress, tracing slow circles just above your thigh, your knees went weak.

“I waited so long to touch you like this,” he said, voice ragged and thick with desire, forehead pressed against your temple. “You don’t know how many nights I fucking ached for it.”

You couldn’t answer him properly anymore. Your mind was foggy, a jumbled mess of sensations and feelings. Instead, your fingers clutched his shirt even tighter like it was the only thing keeping you upright. Your mouth parted for him with a soft and needy sound he swore he’d hear in every wet dream from now on.

But even Theo, in all his obsessive devotion, knew the hallway wasn’t enough. He wanted more. He wanted all.

The wall behind you was too cold for your gentle skin. The corridor too exposed. Someone could come around the corner, and Theo... he didn’t like sharing, certainly not you. Not even the sound of your gasps. Especially not the sight of you like this: lips swollen, eyes wide and glassy, pressed against him like you always belonged there. No, it was all only his now.

His eyes flicked toward the muffled noise of the party somewhere behind, then back to you. His pupils were blown wide, cheeks flushed, lips red from kissing and biting. He looked at you for a few moments with his blue eyes that were filled with something dark and unhinged before pulling away from you.

He didn’t speak. Just wrapped his hand firmly around your wrist again, but this time there was no hesitation in your movements. You followed him without a word, dizzy from the taste of him, your pulse thundering like butterfly wings trapped in a jar. He led you through another corridor, deeper into the castle, down a flight of stairs you barely registered.

And then — his dorm.

The door shut behind you with a low, final click. The world outside ceased to exist. The walls were dark, shadows flickering with the faint glow of a single enchanted lamp. His bed was unmade. His books were stacked in messy, meticulous piles. It smelled like cedar and parchment and something warm and clean, something him.

You barely had time to look around before Theo was on you again — his mouth trailing down your jaw, his hands sliding under your dress. And this time there was no hesitation, no careful pause.

He lifted you effortlessly, carrying you to the bed, laying you down like something breakable and precious, and then climbing over you like he was starving.

“I thought about this so many times,” he murmured against your neck, his voice lower than you’d ever heard it. “Fantasized about what you’d sound like, what you’d look like under me. And fuck, you’re better than anything I imagined.”

You gasped when his hands tugged the hem of your dress higher, fingers ghosting over your thighs, reverent, like he wasn’t sure if this was real. But it was real. The way his mouth trailed down your chest, hot and open and desperate — that was real. The way he exhaled like a man finally tasting salvation — that was real too.

His hands were shaking as he slid your dress up and over your hips, slow enough to savor, fast enough to betray the frantic and feverish desire in him. His gaze dropped to your panties — black lace, delicate — and he groaned like it physically hurt to see them.

“Fuck. Do you have any idea what this does to me? What you do to me?” he rasped, fingers tracing the edge of the lace, not touching where you wanted him yet, like he was making himself wait, like he wanted to suffer a bit more.

You reached for him, chest rising and falling in ragged waves, but he caught your wrists halfway and pinned them above your head, holding them there gently but firmly with one hand. His other hand trailed down your side, slow, appreciating, claiming. His lean body was pressed against you, mouth a whisper away from yours.

“I’m not letting you go,” he said, voice thick with promise and dark warning at the same time. “You understand that, right? Not after this.”

You nodded breathless and aroused beyond reason. And something in him shifted alive again, but it wasn’t anger this time. It was worship. Devotion. His madness for you laced in reverence.

He kissed you like he was drinking you, slow, deep, hungry. His free hand slid between your legs, finally pressing against the soaked fabric of your underwear, and you whimpered almost shamefully sweet, thighs instinctively parting for him even wider.

He swallowed thickly. “Oh, bella,” he whispered almost wrecked, forehead pressed to yours, lips brushing your cheek. “You’re so wet for me. Just for me.”

He pushed the lace aside, fingers dipping into you with a low groan. You cried out softly, arching into him. And that sound — Merlin, that sound — made him roll his hips against you without thinking, needing friction, needing everything you could give him and more.

His touch was deliberate, fingers slow and curling just right. You were moaning now, broken and desperate for more. He kissed you possessively and fiercely in need to swallow these pretty sounds, to absorb it all.

“I want to feel you fall apart,” he growled into your mouth. “I want to feel you break around my fingers first, then around my cock deep inside you. I want to hear how you sound when it’s too much, too good. When it’s everything.”

You were shaking now, thighs trembling around his hand, nails digging into his shoulders desperately. “Theo, please,” you whispered quietly.

His eyes darkened at the word. Please. It was like music to his ears from your pretty kiss-swollen lips. He pulled back just enough to watch your face as he slid down your body, kissing a trail along your stomach, lifting your legs over his shoulders.

Then he looked up at you — eyes wide, lips parted, reverent — and said, “Keep looking at me. I want to see your face when I make you come.”

He lowered his mouth to you. Heat, wetness, tongue, lips, him. All of him. It was overwhelming. His mouth moved like he’d studied every secret of your body, like he had written essays on how to worship you just right. His tongue lapped slow and teasing at first, then deeper, firmer — and when you bucked your hips, he gripped your thighs harder, dragging you closer to his mouth like he owned you, like he was taking what was rightfully his.

His name fell from your lips in soft cries over and over again. Theo groaned into you, vibration against your core sending you spiraling. He didn’t stop. Not when you came once. Not when you gasped, twitched and whimpered his name like a prayer. He kept going, greedy, worshipful, until tears started to slip from your eyes and your thighs shook like leaves in the wind.

When he finally pulled away, his lips were wet, eyes blown wide with lust and something darker. Theo crawled back over you, dragging his cock against your slick heat. His gaze was dark, absorbing something inside you like a void, calling out for something dark and twisted inside your soul. And it was responding.

“You’re mine,” he whispered more ragged now, more guttural. “Say it.”

Your lips trembled as he slid the head of his cock against you, not entering yet, just enough to make you ache for more.

“Say it, dolcezza," he insisted lowly.

“I’m yours,” you breathed out, dazed and trembling. “All yours, Theo.”

And then he finally pushed in — slow, stretching, filling. You both gasped, your fingers digging into his back as his name broke from your lips in a whiny sob.

Nothing was slow after that. His thrusts were deep, punishing, claiming. His hands gripped your hips, his mouth on your neck, your shoulders, your lips, everywhere. Every inch of you was touched, kissed, marked by him. Theo fucked you like he’d been waiting his whole life for this. Like he was trying to etch himself into your bones, to bury himself so deeply inside you that he could touch your soul.

You cried out for him again and again, and every sound drove him only deeper, harder. He was saying things in Italian now. Words you didn’t understand but felt in your blood, in your insides. “Bellissima, così stretta, così perfetta, sei mia, sei mia, sei mia—”

And then, somewhere between these beautifully twisted mantras, you came again, this time around him. Theo lost it. He buried himself deep, body shaking, groaning into your neck as he spilled inside you, chanting your name like it was sacred, like it was the only thing he knew.

Afterward, he didn’t move. Just stayed there, inside you, forehead pressed to yours, breath hot and ragged against your skin.

And when he finally spoke, it was barely a whisper.

“You’re mine now. And I swear, if anyone ever touches you again, looks at you like that, I'm...” His voice trailed off, something dangerous curling around the edges of it.

But he didn’t finish the threat. He just kissed you again — slow this time, reverent, almost tender — and held you like you were the only thing tethering him to this world.

And maybe you were.

[riddlemelater]

Ruin Me - T.N

masterlist | nav

⚠︎ all characters 18+ | MDNI ⚠︎

summary: Theo's struggling with the weight of his duty, lucky for him, you aren't ready to give up on him— No matter what he's done.

wordcount: 4.6k

warnings: Death Eater!Theo X fem!reader, mentions of blood/murder, alcohol use, smut, p in v, slight nipple play if you squint, mild pain kink, rough sex, emotional repression, implied trauma/war, established relationship.

a/n: My humblest apologies for not updating my Mattheo fic. I’ve just lost a very dear family member this week, and I'm struggling with the motivation to write. In the meantime, please accept this Theo draft that’s been gathering dust for months. Take care of yourselves, lovelies <3

The first indication that all was not well was the front door slamming shut with a resounding thud. One that echoed through the dark halls of his family's property and lingered in the air like a bad smell. The sheer force of it had the supporting walls trembling from the impact as it settled into place, as though it had shaken the very foundations on which the manor was built.

Then, it was the heavy drag of dragon-skin boots across the hardwood floors, careless and scuffing at every surface that dared get in their way. Loud, thudding footsteps that resounded through the corridors, causing you to bristle with anticipation. No doubt that Theo was trailing dirt, blood, and Merlin knows what else across the fitted carpets and polished halls. Even worse, you doubted he cared at all, too focused on whatever he'd been cajoled into doing tonight.

He often got like this after a mission, as if he’d lost all ability to think. His usual dry humour and composure replaced by a sort of tunnel vision focus, bordering on obsession. Whenever Theo was like this, he had no regard for anyone or anything— he was volatile, cold, unpredictable.

And there was nothing that could fix that. Not even you.

The poor elves would be appalled when they saw him, his blatant disregard for their strenuous upkeep of Nott Manor an unthinkable sin. You could picture them now, begrudgingly cleaning up the offending footprints while muttering sourly about the reckless heir they were bound to serve. You made a mental note to apologise profusely on his behalf in the morning, already thinking about what baked treats would best appease two scorned house-elves.

Before Theo’s return, all had been well - or, at least — as well as it could be when your boyfriend was in the presence of the Dark Lord.

The soft crackling of the fire in the far corner of the bedroom cast a flickering glow across the room, like the fleeting light of the setting sun on a summers evening. And as the flames burned out to embers you sat tight jawed, fidgety, and trying to distract yourself with one of the books that rested on Theo's bedside.

As one hand flicked through pages you weren't really reading, the other rested in the fur of the purring feline in your lap. The small creature, curled up and warm against your cool skin, soothed the restlessness you fought halfheartedly. You fell into a rhythm, stroking his fur in time with the gentle rise and fall of his tiny frame, biting at the dry skin of your bottom lip.

You hated when Theo was away.

He had been out for hours. So long in fact that you'd abandoned any hope of fulfilling your dinner plans, and instead settled into the plush - but empty - four poster bed. Armed with a book and the cat, who'd soon taken to sprawling out on Theo’s side of the mattress, and you waited apprehensively.

Time twisted in on itself — hours slipping by in a slow, aching crawl. You'd learned not to keep an eye on the clock nowadays, and so you continued to scratch behind the cat's ears, smiling as he purred every so often. You were almost envious of how ignorant the small animal was, sleeping soundly through the heavy thud of boots just down the hall, the footsteps heading to ruin what looked like a perfectly good nap wrapped up in Theo's expensive sheets.

Down the hall, the familiar sound of a cupboard opening, then a glass being firmly sat down on the table echoed through the corridors. Your mind's eye pictured Theo, reaching for one of the many bar cabinets, pouring a healthy glass of whiskey then dispersing of it in one, large gulp.

Not a good night, then. You thought absently and continued your pets, turning a page of the book propped up against the pillow, halfheartedly trying to feign interest. It was best not to pry on nights like this, he'd tell you in his own way once he was ready. Or maybe he wouldn't, and you'd just have to accept that there were some things best left unsaid. Some sins that were best left unconfessed.

You listened to the soft purr of the sleeping animal beside you and waited, anxious.

Eventually, Theo appeared—sullen, quiet. As expected, he said nothing, and so you said nothing either. You stole a glance at him and regretted it instantly: gaunt lines carved into his face, flecks of what you could only assume was blood scattered across his skin. The dark circles beneath his eyes had become a near-constant feature, and his hair stuck out in every direction, like he’d been dragging his fingers through it for hours.

He looked so different now from the fourteen-year-old boy you'd fallen in love with. Back then, his dark circles were from staying up too late in the library, his dishevelled hair from falling asleep on his notes while he tried to practice a particularly difficult spell. Now his late nights were filled with fear, spurred on not by academic success, but by dark magic and a burning mark on his left forearm.

Through your thick lashes, you watched his robes fall unceremoniously from his body, piling in a discarded heap by the ottoman. He kicked them away from his feet, and his boots clattered against the floor a moment later, with the same careless disregard for where they landed. You said nothing, only watched the dull expression on his face— lifeless and miserable— and waited for him to speak.

Theo sighed and huffed as though something was weighing heavily on his mind, yet he didn't speak, only stripped down to his boxers and disappeared into the en-suite. The shower began to run and your eyes flitted up to meet the ajar door he'd just slid behind, tentatively listening to his movements until he settled underneath the stream of water.

Definitely not a good night.

Wordlessly, you rose from the bed and lifted his robes, dropping them into the washing basket without taking a look at them - you didn't want to know what, or who, was staining them. On nights like this, it was best not to ask because you’d never like the answer, and Theo would struggle to meet your gaze.

The water still ran in the bathroom, falling harshly against the tiled floor as Theo scrubbed at his skin with fervour, a ritual neither of you had entirely come to terms with. Your teeth bit at the dry skin of your lips, the air thick with tension, and you returned his boots to the shoe rack, murmuring a quick cleaning spell and hiding them from sight. As if hiding the evidence he'd ever left the house might help him forget.

Whether that was for your benefit or Theo’s was unclear.

In the bathroom, Theo was muttering, not loud enough for you to make out details, but enough that you were aware of it. Whatever had happened tonight was playing on his mind. You knew it was bad, but Theo had come home in one piece - and that? Well, that was good enough for you.

Was it selfish of you? Perhaps. But Theo was alive, and really, that's all that mattered.

In recent years, you'd seen how ruthless Voldemort could be, you'd watched when the lifeless body of Cedric Diggory had appeared before the student body, pale and lifeless, whilst his father wailed at his side. When Harry Potter had fought him in the Department of Mysteries, you’d all seen the news coverage. You could still picture the Daily Prophet's front page announcing his return, clear as day. And when things had begun to change at Hogwarts, you'd only held onto Theo tighter, promised that no matter what, you were there for him.

A promise you would honour to the grave.

Theo was no stranger to the cruelty of the Dark Lord. His mother’s death had marked him, twisted him into something darker even as a child, but it was his father’s loyalty to the cause that had nearly destroyed him. You still remember the look on his face when he received that letter in your sixth year—that letter.

It was December. You’d just finished your winter exams. Theo had decided to stay at Hogwarts over the break, just to be with you, to escape whatever darkness called to him. But that evening, as he sat beside you on the couch, his fingers trembling as he hesitated, something in him was cracked open. He’d been terrified to show you what he’d received in the morning post—a letter that wasn’t just words on parchment, but a death warrant. A promise. One that sealed his future as a servant of the Dark Lord.

The moment he handed it to you, his eyes wide, he looked to you as if you might be his salvation — or his undoing. But before you could say a word, before you could reach for him, he crumpled the letter back in his hand and whispered, "I have to go."

And Theo went home for Christmas that year.

It took him nearly twenty minutes to get clean enough that his hushed murmurs had fallen quiet, and another ten until the water finally shut off entirely. You weren’t sure what version of Theo you’d get.

Some nights he’d come in without a word, he’d shower and scrub at his skin— scrub at that mark until he felt better— then he’d collapse into bed beside you, wrap his arms around your waist and tug you close, whisper sweet nothings into your ear till you fell asleep tangled up together. You wouldn’t speak, but you’d burrow closer, let his tight grip squeeze the breath from your lungs if it meant he could rest easier.

“Still here, then." He said flatly, his tone laced with a bitter sharpness. You looked up at him cautiously, studying him. "Thought maybe you'd have finally grown a spine and left."

The towel around his waist dropped, and he tugged on a fresh shirt and clean boxer shorts, not glancing at you once.

So it was that version of Theo tonight.

You said nothing, your fingers still stroking the cat lying beside you. The small creature stirred a little, then sat up quickly as Theo scoffed. Its eyes narrowed as it stretched out, as if limbering up for an attack— the sweet thing had always preferred you, much to Theo’s amusement, and clung to your side whenever he had the chance. Your gaze flitted from the cat to Theo, concern etched into your features.

"Don't look at me like that. I don't want your pity." He spat, instinctively tucking his left arm from sight, pulling a jumper over his head a moment later. You knew he hated when you saw his mark.

The cat sprang off the bed and scuttled out the door quickly, Theo's words clearly agitating the small beast. You frowned, watching the end of his bushy tail slipping out of sight, leaving the two of you alone.

"You scared him." You murmured softly, your eyes lingering on the slightly ajar door. Then, as if you'd drifted off briefly, your head turned back towards Theo, taking in the sight of him as he dried his hair with the towel, his dark locks tousled and damp from the shower

"Theo baby, I-" You tried, voice tender and careful. Using that word— that name that was only ever his— hoping it might jolt him out of his spiral. Comfort him, ground him.

But he flinched like the word burned him.

"Don't."

It came out like a snarl, cutting through your hesitant words. So unlike your Theo, it was almost unrecognisable. He spun sharply, eyes wide. Wild.

"Don't fucking 'baby' me." His voice was low and cruel. Mocking.

You bristled, swallowing back the sting. Fighting every instinct to physically recoil from his words. He didn’t mean it. You knew that, even if it hurt to hear. Your nails dug into your palms, crescents pressing deep into skin. Every breath felt brittle, like it might shatter in your throat. You wanted to move—reach for him—but your limbs felt like they’d been filled with lead. If you could just get to him, take his hand, press kisses to his bruised knuckles and red skin, maybe he’d see. Maybe then he’d realise you were in this for keeps.

Maybe if you just—

"I killed a boy with eyes the same shade as yours tonight."

He didn’t look for your reaction — didn’t need to. He could feel it in the silence. He didn't need to see your wide eyes or parted lips to know. He just started to pace, hands dug into his hair and tugging angrily, as if he could tear the image of their lifeless faces from his mind if he pulled hard enough.

You swallowed the lump beginning to form, crawling across the bed till you were sat at the edge. Waiting for the right moment to interrupt, but he was talking now, and he needed to talk about it. You needed him to talk.

“A kid. Younger than me.” He muttered, not looking at you, just pacing angrily. As if he were at war with himself. "I didn't flinch."

“What kind of person doesn’t flinch?” He scoffed, a bitter, breathless sound that didn’t quite reach a laugh. “I looked him in the eyes. Held my wand steady as he begged. Do you know how easy it was?”

You couldn’t tear your eyes off him, uncontrollable tears welling up and threatening to spill. He stopped pacing for a moment, just long enough to look at you— and Merlin, there was something fractured in his stare. Like he wanted you to see him as a monster, that cruel snarl on his face as if he wanted you to look away in shame.

“Like breathing. That easy.” He snapped his fingers and you flinched, your whole body jerking like a puppet on a string.

Theo's chest heaved, as though the act had knocked the wind out of him. His shoulders collapsed inward, jaw slack, fingers twitching faintly like they hadn’t gotten the message that the moment had passed.

His eyes fluttered shut, as if he couldn't bear to even look at you. His tongue ran across the inside of his cheek, and he exhaled a bitter sigh, one that was loaded with self-loathing and spite. Your heart broke for him.

"Theo, baby. You had no choice." You murmured weakly, pleading. It wasn't enough, but what else could you say— I'm sorry your father signed you up for a war you didn't want to be a part of?

"I killed someone tonight. Do you even get that?" He snapped incredulously, taking a step closer to you. And it was like that flicker of softness from just a moment ago had vanished, replaced by the hardened composure that had been drilled into him.

Your lip trembled, mouth opening and closing, useless, as you tried to speak. Tears pricked in your eyes, blurring your vision as you stared back at him, speechless.

"Dead. Gone. Just like that. Do you really think you understand how I feel at all?"

He took another step toward you, less than a meter from the edge of the bed where you sat. The same bed that you'd held him in as he cried, sobbed till his voice died out about the things he was terrified to have to do. Things he could now do, as easily as breathing, apparently.

You shook your head in quiet defeat. He scoffed once more.

"Exactly. So don't sit here with your little book and your— your fucking cat and act like everything is fine."

His voice raised louder, crueller, and you forced yourself to look away and exhale shakily. Theo hadn't taken his eyes off you since his outburst; he just stood and watched, chest heaving up and down in ragged breaths.

"Theo..." You said softly, rising from the mattress and reaching out to cup his cheek, holding his face in your much smaller hand like he was made of glass. "You didn’t have a choice. It's not your fault."

He opened his mouth, another argument on the tip of his tongue, and your head shook gently. He blinked, as if he was about to ignore you, but then he pressed his lips together and his eyes softened.

"It's not your fault, baby." You said again, stronger this time. Less like you were trying to convince him, and more like you were telling the truth. Your thumb stroking over his cheek in tender, repetitive swipes. He didn't flinch under your touch, but he didn't lean into it either. Just stared down at you with something unreadable in his eyes.

"You can't forget it, I know." You soothed, "But you don't need to deal with it on your own either. You can talk to me."

Theo's head shook just slightly. "You don't know what you're saying." He swallowed, his familiar blue eyes staring down at you.

"Yes, I do."

He shook his head again, firmer. "I can't. I'll only hurt you. I'll destroy everything good in you just by being with you."

Your hand slid down his cheek, skimmed down past the tender skin of his neck, and paused as it reached his chest. You could feel the quick, uneven thrum of his heart, pulsing in his chest like a trapped bird.

"Then ruin me." You murmured.

It came out soft, but sure—like you meant it. Like it wasn’t some reckless offer made out of pity or panic, but a choice. A deliberate invitation to be broken, that you’d do anything if it meant that he wouldn’t have to break alone.

Theo froze. His chest stopped its ragged rise and fall. His eyes dropped to where your hand pressed flat against his chest, to the place where you could feel the wild, desperate flutter of his heart. And then he looked back at you.

Your breath hitched as he surged forward, lips pressing against your own in a bruising kiss that made you stagger back a step. He was unrelenting, however, and his strong hands only wrapped around you, pulling you back to him.

One hand tangled in your hair, messy and desperate, pressing your head closer to his and chasing your lips hungrily. The other rested on the small of your back, his fingers grasping at your clothes like you'd slip away otherwise.

You let your fingers slide up his chest, over the taut muscles of his shoulders, feeling the harsh beat of his heart under your fingertips, mirroring the frantic rhythm in your own chest.

The kiss was heated, raw, and filled with unspoken words. Theo's grip tightened, the tips of his fingers digging in enough that you winced, and a quiet groan fell from your lips. His breath was hot against your skin as he pulled away just enough to press his forehead to yours. His hand drifted to your face, cupping it like you were the most precious thing on earth.

His eyes searched yours — torn, conflicted, filled with a mixture of guilt and something deeper. His lips parted as if he was going to say something, but he didn't. Instead, he closed the space between you once more, his kiss rough. Stripped of all restraint and filled only with desire.

His hands roamed again, pulling at your clothes with a sense of urgency that matched the frantic pulse of your heartbeat. There was no hesitation in how he moved, only the fierce need to feel something other than the heaviness inside him. To feel you, real and tangible, here with him.

Your back hit the mattress before you could even register moving, and Theo was climbing on top of you in an instant, caging you in between his arms. His lips found yours quickly, pressing desperate kisses across your lips, nose brushing against yours as he moved.

It didn’t feel like his usual tender kisses. It felt like there was something more, as if he was pouring all of the hurt and anger that had boiled up inside him into the kiss, and you were all too eager to take it.

Theo growled low in his throat as he tore his mouth from yours, only to bury it in the soft curve of your neck. His teeth sank into your skin, rough and unrelenting, leaving behind an angry, pulsing bruise.

“Theo—” you gasped, fingers digging into his shoulder as a sharp ache bloomed beneath his bite. But he didn’t respond— didn’t even seem to hear you. He was lost, wholly consumed by the feel of your body, by the desperate need to drown in something that wasn’t blood or guilt.

Your spine arched instinctively, pressing closer as he ravaged your neck with hungry, possessive nips. His hands moved blindly, tugging at your clothes with a desperation that bordered on frantic— stripping you like he couldn’t bear even an inch of fabric between you.

“So fucking gorgeous…” he breathed against your skin, voice gravelly and low. His hand snaked down to grasp at your chest, kneading roughly at your tits.

Your head tilted back as a moan tore from your throat, and Theo groaned at the sound— low and wrecked— like it shattered something within him.

“Fuck— do that again,” he muttered, his mouth hot and desperate against your collarbone. His fingers grasping at your nipple and pinching, rolling it between his fingers.

You writhed underneath him, moaning softly, and Theo swore under his breath— something guttural and half-feral. Something that only made you want to moan louder, to give him that satisfaction.

“Drives me fucking mad…” he rasped, lips trailing down your chest. “You don’t even know.”

His mouth wrapped around your nipple without warning, sucking hard enough to make you jolt, his teeth grazing at the sensitive flesh just shy of too rough. His hand slipped between your thighs, forcing them apart with a bruising grip.

“All I think about—” he muttered into your skin, voice breaking. “All fucking day.”

He pulled back just enough to look you in the eyes, his own dark and glazed over with need. “You make it stop.” He breathed, pressing a soft kiss to your skin, “The only time I can breathe is when I’m inside you.”

You barely had time to process his words before his fingers slid underneath the waistband of your panties, dragging them down with a rough urgency that made your breath catch. He didn’t wait for your permission, pressing two fingers against your heat, swearing under his breath as he felt how wet you already were.

“Fuck,” he muttered as if it hurt, “you’re soaked for me— always are, aren’t you?”

Your hips bucked into his touch and his eyes snapped up to meet yours, tearing away from between your thighs as if it pained him to look away. “You love this, don’t you?” He growled, “Letting me ruin you like this.”

He pressed inside quickly, thick fingers filling you, and your cry only encouraged him to work quicker, pushing in and out of you with ease.

“That’s it,” Theo murmured, eyes mesmerised by the way his fingers disappeared inside of you. “Taking it so well, good girl.”

“T-Theo!” You gasped, eyes screwing shut as he continued his ministrations.

At the sound of your voice he smirked, dragging his thumb to your clit and drew small circles, working you open quickly. His mouth still panting against your throat, watching the way you writhed and moaned, “Gonna fuck you so hard you won’t remember your own name.”

Your thighs trembled as he pumped his fingers into you, whispering filthy words of praise as you whimpered and writhed beneath him. Each thrust felt precise and punishing, his palm grinding against your clit in the most delicious way.

Theo’s mouth was everywhere— biting at your throat, licking over bruises he’d just made, his tongue catching on your pulse point like he needed to taste how alive you were beneath him. Like that alone was enough to keep him grounded.

“God,” he rasped, pulling his hand back to strip the rest of his clothes from his body, barely breaking contact with your sensitive skin. “Gonna lose my fucking mind.” He groaned.

Your legs parted instinctively as he adjusted, and he caught your thighs in his palms, humming approvingly as you opened yourself up to him. His cock was rock hard, the tip glistening with pre cum as he lined himself up, then paused, his eyes meeting yours.

“This what you wanted?” He asked roughly, unable to stop himself from pressing forward just slightly. “Say it. Tell me.” He urged.

“Yes,” you panted, “Theo, please—”

He didn’t let you finish.

He pushed in with a hard thrust, one that knocked the air from your lungs as he buried himself to the hilt in one desperate motion. Your walls clenching around him, causing his body to shudder above you and a strangled sound breaking in his throat.

“Fuck, baby. So tight.” He gritted out, head falling against your shoulder as he started to move. “So perfect for me.”

Every thrust was hard, deliberate— like if he buried himself deep enough he could fuck the memories out of his head. You could feel it in the way his hands gripped your body, the way his rhythm faltered every time you gasped his name.

Your back arched as he drove into you, unrelenting, each thrust dragging little gasps from your throat. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed through the room, wet and filthy and desperate, and the broken moans he drew from you only matched the obscene sounds.

“Fuck, you feel—” he choked out, voice raw with need, “—so fucking good. Can’t think— can’t fucking breathe.”

His fingers bruised your hips, dragging you back onto him as if he needed you closer. His mouth finding yours in a kiss that was all heat, and teeth, and breathless groans. You whimpered into his mouth, nails clawing at his back and he only hissed through his teeth, the pain spurring him on.

“Theo— fuck— Theo,” you gasped, head tipping back as your body began to tremble beneath him, your orgasm fast approaching.

He snapped his hips harder, faster, his thrusts turning punishing as he chased both your pleasure and his own oblivion. His face burried in your neck, breath ragged and uneven as he panted against your skin.

“Gonna cum,” he groaned, biting down hard on your shoulder. “Gonna come inside you— fuck— can’t stop—can’t—”

You cried out as your orgasm hit, clenching around him like a vice, your whole body seizing from the sheer force of it. Your orgasm triggered Theo’s and he tipped over the edge just after you. His thrusts faltered as he spilled into you with a low, guttural sound, his hips jerking erratically as he emptied himself, still clutching onto you tightly.

You were still catching your breath when his body finally stilled, the frantic pace giving way to a trembling stillness as he collapsed on top of you. His hands, once gripping onto your hips harder enough to bruise, loosened quickly— like he was suddenly now aware of how lost in the moment he had been.

His forehead dropped once more, pushing against your shoulder as his damp curls brushed against your skin and he exhaled shakily. For a long moment he didn’t move, just breathed, shallow, broken breaths against your collarbone.

“Shit— I’m sorry,” he mumbled, barely audible. “I didn’t mean to— fuck. I just… I didn’t know where else to put it.”

Your hand rose instinctively, fingers threading through his curls, massaging lightly.

“You don’t have to be sorry,” you murmured against his hair, “You’re allowed to let it out.”

He hummed absently, and his arms tightened around you. Clutching on like you were the only thing keeping him afloat. “I love you so much.” He mumbled in an exhausted voice.

“I love you too, Theo.” You replied, and you squeezed him tighter. “Get some sleep now, baby.”