#Theodore Nott hurt

[dreamcubed]

i hate it here | theodore nott x reader

song; i hate it here [taylor swift] pairing; theodore nott x fem!muggle-born!ravenclaw!reader genre; s2l, fluff, angst, hurt comfort word count; 5k timeline; half-blood prince warnings; swearing, reference to deaths, referenced grief, discrimination (muggle-borns), implied anxiety, implied depression summary; a chance encounter caused your life to intertwine with theo nott’s, of whom provided a comfort and solace you had sorely needed

this is an old draft i made in 2020, put through some serious editing

also, happy holidays and happy new year!!!

masterlist

"i'll save all my romanticism for my inner life."

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Flames flickered dangerously on the wall candles as the determined Slytherin sixth year charged down the corridor, eyes glaring at anyone who dared get in his way. His destination was unknown, but no one really gave it any thought as they stumbled to get out of his path. Theodore Nott wasn't one to mess with, nor were his group of friends.

"Nott," a voice muttered quietly from behind, causing Theo to halt in his tracks. Spinning on his feet, he caught sight of you and your hesitant gaze.

"What?" he snapped.

"You- uh- you dropped this..." you sighed, opening your hand to reveal a golden locket sat on your palm.

To your surprise, he took it quite gently from you and offered a quiet, "Thanks," before turning on his heel and continuing to storm down the corridor.

You exhaled deeply at your awkwardness as you began making your journey to the Great Hall for lunch. You weren't much in the mood to talk, but still joined your small group of friends at the Ravenclaw table. Greeting them with no more than a smile, you began dishing food on to your plate.

Meanwhile, Theo had arrived to the lunch hall via a different route, and earlier at that too. His thought process had been that of wondering who you were and why you knew his name. There was a sense of gratitude towards you, as that locket had been a gift from his late mother; thus it was a priceless artefact to him. He wouldn't know how to cope if he lost it— her absence was difficult enough as it was.

He sat down on the Slytherin table, surprised to see his friends weren't there yet; they were normally just as eager to eat as him.

He didn't really notice your presence in the room, even though he was still thinking about you. Alas, the hall was rather large, and rather full of students. Regardless, his thoughts were interrupted when Lorenzo Berkshire showed up, one of his closest friends. "Hey, Enzo," he looked up from his plate of food.

"Hi," he sat down opposite, "Where are the rest? I thought I was late enough as it was. L/N and I were just exchanging notes for my ancient runes test. And... then I went to the toilet."

"L/N?" a look of confusion rested upon Theo's features.

"Yeah, Y/N L/N, she's in your potions and DADA, I believe. She's helping me on the test that's coming up soon. Don't you know her?" Lorenzo quirked an eyebrow.

Your name didn't ring a bell at all.

"She's over there," Lorenzo pointed to the Ravenclaw table, "She is a mud— muggle-born, but she's really smart and I'll get detention if I fail this test."

Theo flicked his gaze to where you were sat. He observed your lack of participation in the conversation your friends were having— two Ravenclaw girls who he did recognise.

"Wait, that's L/N?" he turned to Lorenzo in surprise, seeing that Mattheo had now arrived wordlessly, already stuffing his face with food.

"So you do know her?" Lorenzo replied.

"Yeah- uh- I met her earlier, actually," Theo continued to watch you eating your meal while visibly spaced out.

"Mate, if you keep staring at L/N like that she's gonna get uncomfortable," Blaise Zabini announced his arrival, sitting by Theo.

"You know her too?" Theo spun his head to face Blaise, eyes slightly widened.

Blaise quirked an eyebrow, "Yeah? She's, like, one of the smartest girls in our year..."

"Why am I only hearing of her today?" he said, somewhat aggravated, as if he had been left out of an inside joke everyone else was in on.

Blaise and Lorenzo chuckled, before the latter said, "It's because she's so quiet. Trust me, it took me ages to get her reasonably confident around me."

"Why?"

"What d'you mean, why? Some people are just like that, Theo," Blaise shrugged.

Something told Theo that you weren't quiet for no reason.

***

You headed to your potions class at around 11am the next day: it was double potions, and your first lesson, which you were not looking forward to. You had it with a lot of Slytherins, and some of them were a bit judgmental of you being a muggle-born. That didn't necessarily bother you, it was just tedious to deal with constantly.

Much to your shock, you found Theodore Nott sat on your table and the old Hufflepuff boy you used to sit next to over in Nott's old seat. Awkwardly sitting yourself down in your own seat, you pulled out some of your books and ingredients and began working through the starter on the blackboard. All without saying a word to Nott.

You didn't realise Nott had been watching your every move from beside you.

"L/N," he whispered as Professor Slughorn called the attention of the class. You lifted your eyes from the book to him, and he could see the flash of fear in your eyes. Most likely because his group of friends were notorious for picking on muggle-borns.

"Yes?" you said as confidently as you could, in a hushed tone.

"Why have I never seen you around before?"

A frown graced your face as you eyed him incredulously, "What do you mean? We've had classes together for years."

"But I've never noticed you."

With a scoff, you muttered, "Thanks."

"I mean, I don't understand how I haven't noticed you."

You shrugged.

Sensing he needed to change the subject, Theo said, "Thanks again for finding my locket. It's priceless to me, I don't know what I'd do without it."

"It's fine," you dismissed, "Why's it so important, anyway?"

"My mother gave it to me before she died."

Pursing your lips ever so slightly, you murmured, "My condolences."

He rolled his eyes, "Empty words I've heard a thousand times."

Before you could reply, Slughorn scolded the both of you for talking.

And you didn't get another chance to talk until the lesson came to an end; you packed up all of your belongings and muttered a polite, "Bye, Nott," before hurriedly walking towards the door.

"L/N! Wait!" he called after you, jogging to catch up, "Please drop the Nott. Just call me Theo."

He walked with you to the Great Hall, engaging in a polite conversation about the material covered in the lesson.

Eventually, you found the courage to say, "N- Theo, my words weren't empty earlier."

Theo quirked an eyebrow, "What do you mean?"

With a slight shrug, you pointed to the Ravenclaw table, "My- uh- friends are over there, Theo. D'you mind if I go?"

Frowning, Theo asked, "Why would I mind?"

"Uh- I don't know... I just- uh..." you purposely avoided his eyes, not wanting to say that you were scared to offend him, when he probably already saw you as lesser, being a muggle-born.

"Look, Y/N, you don't need to be so nervous around me. I'm not gonna hurt you."

"Really?" you tilted your head.

"I swear. I don't care that you're muggle-born." Although his father would.

Nodding, you mumbled, "Goodbye," and joined your group of friends, of whom had been watching the previous encounter. Theo then headed over to the Slytherin table where his friends were also waiting.

***

A few days later, the Slytherin boys were once again gathered in the Great Hall, this time for breakfast. Lorenzo downed the rest of his coffee, and rose to his feet. "Gotta go."

"Where're you going?" Mattheo asked.

Climbing over the bench, he replied, "Library. L/N's helping me study for the ancient runes test, remember?"

"Can I come?" Theo quickly questioned, interested upon hearing your name mentioned.

Lorenzo gave him an odd look but said yes nonetheless; Theo instantly stood from his seat and tailed his friend on the journey.

Upon reaching the library, the pair found you already sitting at a little oakwood table with a dusty maroon novel in hand and scrolls of parchment laid before you. "Since when are you so stressed about tests?" Theo whispered.

"I told you, I'll get detention if I fail," Lorenzo shrugged, "What about you? Why a sudden interest in L/N?"

"I don't have a sudden interest in her," he blatantly lied.

Lorenzo gave him a look, "Sure, mate."

Luckily for Theo, they had reached the table where you were, with a little green sofa positioned by it. Theo smiled at you, muttering a quick, "Hi."

"Hi..." your face warmed at the sight of him.

As Theo set himself down on the sofa, Lorenzo said his hello to you - curious as to why you were even shyer around Theo - and sat down by you so he could pull out his books. He silently speculated as to what was going on between the two of you.

You began going over ancient runes, explaining in as much detail as you could the most recent topic. Still, you found yourself constantly glancing over at Theo, who had started reading a book, which didn't go unnoticed by Lorenzo. He didn't say anything, however, because if he did studying would be futile due to your inevitable embarrassment.

"Why did Theo come?" you questioned awkwardly when the aforementioned had left briefly to use the toilet, "He never has before..."

Shrugging, Lorenzo replied, "I think he wanted to see you."

"Me?" your eyes widened, "Why would he want to see me?"

You didn't get an answer; Lorenzo didn't give you one.

***

If you weren't so oblivious the question would have probably answered itself over the next few days. Theo had begun to go with you everywhere, and had moved to sit next to you in both DADA and potions officially. He sometimes napped during theory lessons in potions, but you didn't mind enchanting a quill to copy what you were writing so he would still have notes. Not that he had asked you to, you just felt weirdly obliged.

Whenever you would read in the library, he would be right next to you on the sofa, also reading. Whenever you were sat alone in the Great Hall, he would join and eat with you. Whenever you were taking a nice stroll around the grassy slopes of the Hogwarts grounds, he would walk by you, maintaining a comfortable silence.

Annoying wasn't the word you would use for him; in fact, you had never felt so content with someone's constant presence. The rest of your friends you needed breaks from, as they drained your social energy despite how much you loved them. Theo, however, was more of a calm and quiet person: he seemed to be quite happy not speaking at all around you. You appreciated the fact you could dwell together without doing anything.

***

The following Saturday, Theo was pissed. Determinedly walking down the corridor with a ferocious glare in his eyes, everybody was quick to jump out of his way, knowing the extent his wrath could sometimes take. Someone, namely a dumb third year, had accidentally set off an exploding spell on him. While Theo had fixed himself up, the third year had ran off without apologising. Now, Theo was hunting him down to seek revenge.

Everybody in the school feared him and the other Slytherin boys, except for a few of the first years who were yet to see their rage. When they were angry, no one dared go near them— it was kind of like an unspoken rule. You, unfortunately, had not yet realised that Theo was angered and ran up to him from behind, since you had been looking for him. You had found it strange that he wasn't yet by your side.

"Hey, Theo," you levelled your pace with his, wondering why he was moving so fast. A couple students loitering in the corridor exchanged glances, knowing you were about to get screamed at.

Except, you didn't. Theo's features went soft as he turned his head to you and smiled gently. Shock was evident on the observing students' faces, having never seen such a switch in emotion on any of the Slytherin boys before.

"Hey, Y/N," Theo spoke, "D'you have any good hexes to use on a stupid third year who accidentally hit you with a spell but didn't apologise?"

"Well, um, you're kinda putting me on the spot here..." you tapped her chin thoughtfully, "If you wanna go with a classic you could use the bat bogey hex."

Scrunching up his nose, he replied, "I kinda want something more original."

"Uh... why don't you make them turn purple?" you shrugged, "That's not done often."

"Why purple?"

"I like purple."

Theo chuckled, "Okay, then. We've just got to find him, now."

"Well, think logically. He'll probably go where there's lots of people so he can either blend in or have some hope of protection," you said, "And where will there be lots of people on this fine Saturday morning?"

"The Great Hall," he realised, grabbing your hand without thinking so he could start sprinting there.

You gasped at first, not expecting to be tugged along so roughly. But you weren't unfit, and quickly pulled your legs to match his pace.

"Alright," he panted, coming to a halt after running through the large double doors, "He's over there, on the Gryffindor table."

"Why... did... we... have... to... run?" you forced out between breaths.

Squeezing your hand unintentionally, he watched with amused eyes at your breathless state, before replying, "Couldn't risk him getting away again."

"Enchant his- uh- drink," now hyperaware of your still joined hands, you felt shy.

"What, so I don't get caught?"

"Uh, yeah..."

He tugged on your hand, guiding you down the side of the red table with his wand hidden discreetly in his free palm. Uttering the charm, he pointed his wand at the golden goblet in front of the boy.

"Better hope it works," he muttered, looking around to see all his friends together on the Slytherin table, as usual. You found yourself being dragged over to them without a say in the matter.

Theo only remembered to let go of your hand when you reached his friends— your expression likely gave away your embarrassment, but you still sat down next to him. Lorenzo, who was the other side of Theo, whispered in his ear, "You made it official, then?"

Shaking his head and taking a bite of toast, Theo answered, "What d'you mean?"

"You know what I mean, Theo," he sighed, "You both have such blatant feelings for each other."

The conversation swiftly switched as Mattheo began discussing the upcoming quidditch game. You didn't share an interest in the sport, but Theo did, so you were able to remain silent, much to your relief.

***

Blue puffy coat drowning you in warmth, and black leather gloves wrapping your shivery pale hands— woolly white bobble hat on head, and tickles of snow balanced on cheekbones— matte black snow boots on feet, and thick jeans on legs: you were well kitted for the day's snowy weather out in Hogsmeade, all of your friends were there too. You were now off the carriages and strolling down the icy street, gazing at the familiar sweets, book and joke shops. Cho, a friend of yours, was awkwardly making conversation with Blaise. He returned the level of awkwardness.

Mattheo and Lorenzo - Theo's closest friends - suddenly pulled your arms with mischievous looks on their faces. "Come to Zonko's with us!" Mattheo smirked.

It was obviously not a question.

Giving Theo a pleading look, you pulled a strained expression when all he gave you was a smirk similar to Mattheo's. "We'll be in the Three Broomsticks," your friend, Jane, said, "See the rest of you there."

You sighed, accepting your defeat and going to Zonko's— you ended up spending most of your time hidden in the corner of the shop while keeping an eye on the devious Slytherins. The crowd in the shop wasn't relaxing. At all. Right now, the only place you wanted to be was in the Three Broomsticks holding a refreshing cup of golden butterbeer with Theo by your—

Theo? Since when had he been the first person you wanted to be with? The first person you thought of when you went to your happy place? Warmth spread to your cheekbones and lit them aflame, the only thoughts in your head being Theo's cheeky smirk and fluffy brown hair. It took you awhile to realise Lorenzo had now grabbed your arm and was pulling you over to the pub with Mattheo, but you soon snapped out of your imagination and allowed yourself to enter through the door independently.

The second you were in there you made eye contact with very same boy you had been thinking about, causing you to grow flustered. Keeping your head down, you walked over to the table and smiled awkwardly at everyone. There suddenly seemed to be an overwhelming feeling that everyone could read exactly what you were thinking and immediately knew what was up.

Blaise budged along the bench a bit, allowing you to squeeze in next to Theo. All that you could notice now was the warmth radiating from the body - Theo's - that was squashed against you in the confined of space on the benches and chairs.

"Y/N? You good?" he whispered, concerned over your sudden shyness in demeanour.

"Uh- yeah! Fine... just fine," making the mistake of glancing at him again, your thoughts stammered and stuttered.

A million thoughts swarmed through Theo's head, having no idea what was happening. He decided to ignore it for now, however, and pushed over a glass of golden butterbeer to you.

Relief washed over you as you took a sip of the frothy beverage and allowed the warmth to fill up your insides. Theo's presence was beginning to feel comforting again, now your spout of realising your feelings was over. Unintentionally, you shifted millimetres closer to him causing your thighs to be pressed together. Theo was now conversing with Lorenzo, but he noticed your minuscule movement next to him.

Continuing with the conversation, he shifted the hand he had resting on his lap to hook it around your thigh: an action that had your eyes widening like saucers. Still, you couldn't help but smile slightly, before taking another sip of beer to cover your face.

***

One bright Saturday morning, you were in the library with Lorenzo, as he needed help with his studies. Only, this time it was Jane who was helping him, as you did not take herbology, and so could provide no assistance to him in that area. Regardless, you had come along, despite the fact you were in a great deal of pain. You were laying on the sofa by Jane and Lorenzo's table, curled up into a ball as you cursed your uterus for daring to grieve you in such a manner.

Theo, however, was in the Great Hall eating breakfast. The lack of your presence confused him, since you were usually there, so naturally he asked your friends where you were.

"Oh... she's in the library with Jane and Berkshire," Cho replied nonchalantly, "I don't know why she went— she has really bad cramps, and it's Jane that's tutoring Berkshire right now anyway."

"Cramps?" he frowned.

Cho sighed, "She's on her period, Nott."

Coughing awkwardly, he hummed in acknowledgment and continued eating, praying that the subject would be changed.

"Well? Are you just gonna sit there?" Cho questioned threateningly.

"What?" he said with confusion lacing his tone.

Mattheo laughed from across the table, "You're practically her boyfriend, aren't you gonna go to her? Period care is a classic boyfriend duty."

"What do you know about boyfriend duties?" Theo scoffed at his friend, but he knew that he was right, even though he wasn't your boyfriend. Nonetheless, he rose from his seat after Cho gave him a glare.

Once he had poured a cup of hot chocolate from the breakfast spread, he began his journey to the library. Upon entering the massive room full of oakwood desks, homely sofas and bookcase after bookcase, he spotted you lying on a settee by Jane and Lorenzo with your eyes tightly shut. In your foetal position, you seemed oblivious to the heated discussion going on between the pair.

Crossing the room while scanning his surroundings, he noticed the various students sat chatting with friends or lazily doing homework: all of them in casual clothes. The thought of that made him take note of your attire: a loose-fitting Ravenclaw shirt much like the ones quidditch players wore, simple black pyjama bottoms and a pair of green and blue striped socks. Now that he had arrived, he could make out the battered black Converse sprawled at the foot of the maroon settee you were on.

Shooting a quick hello to Lorenzo and Jane, who were too preoccupied to notice, Theo leaned over you, and whispered, "Hey. I brought you some hot chocolate."

You peeled open your eyelids and rubbed them, wincing suddenly before clutching your abdomen. "Thanks..." you mumbled softly.

"Chang told me it was your time of the month," he said in a low tone so nobody else could hear, sitting down by you properly and handing over the mug.

"Did she?" tiredly pushing yourself up into a more upright position, you felt the beginning of your heart rate speed up now that you could clearly see Theo.

He smiled gently, taking in your cute mildly flustered appearance. Such an expression on your face made him want to hold you— desperately.

Taking a deep but quiet breath, he took the mug from your hands and placed it on the table, making you scowl. The scowl disappeared, however, when he scooped his arm underneath you, taking you much by surprise, and lifted you up slightly so he could budge himself to the end of the sofa and allow you to now be blatantly flustered on his lap. "How're you holdin' up?" he asked as he leaned the both of you forward to pick up the mug again.

"O-Okay, I gue-" you cut yourself off by clutching your abdomen and scrunching your face.

"Maybe not so okay," he chuckled, pushing your arms away from your stomach, and slipping his free hand under your royal blue shirt before applying some pressure.

Sighing in relief, you said, "You're so warm," before proceeding to curl up once more. You took the hot chocolate from his other hand, granting yourself a big gulp.

"'S'good chocolate."

"Fresh from the breakfast table," he chuckled, the action vibrating against your back.

You smiled, something that he couldn't see. "Thank you."

"It's nothing."

At that comment, you disagreed, as you knew that Theo Nott was not the type of man to do such nice things for people. Still, you continued to drink the hot chocolate, looking towards Jane and Lorenzo— who were still arguing about a herbology topic.

"What could they possibly be arguing about?" Theo sighed.

You shrugged slightly, "I think she proofread his essay and said it looked like a toddler had written it."

"I'm guessing you're a kinder tutor?"

You laughed, "I would say so. Unluckily for Lorenzo, I don't take herbology."

Then, Cho arrived, with Mattheo and Blaise as well— how she had persuaded the former to come to the library was nothing short of impressive.

"Sorry, did we interrupt a double date?" Mattheo smiled devilishly, sitting down in an armchair.

Oh, that would explain it.

You and Theo didn't react to his comment: you were so used to being teased at this point that it was just another day in the life.

As for Jane and Lorenzo— it was a completely different story. Their faces flushed as they became defensive, spouting off all sorts of insults about the other in relation to their prior argument.

"We're all heading down to the lake for a bit, d'you guys wanna come?" Blaise interjected.

Looking to you, Theo could easily tell you didn't want to by your expression, so declined on behalf of both of you. Meanwhile, Lorenzo and Jane agreed, likely realising the tutoring was going nowhere, and rose from their seats.

***

Quidditch matches were the pride and joy of the school, and also something even you took seriously, despite not caring much for the sport. You had never missed a Ravenclaw match in your time, and never intended to either. That day's match was Slytherin vs. Ravenclaw, so you were definitely going to be in the stands watching.

With it being a few weeks away from Christmas (and nearly the end of the first term), being comfortably wrapped up was a necessity: a winter coat, a scarf, a hat, and gloves. Theo was about to head into the changing rooms for the match, but ran over to you first. Even just looking at him made your previously unwavering loyalty to Ravenclaw's team falter.

"Two galleons we'll win," Theo smirked down at you.

"Bet accepted," you held out your gloved hand, to which he shook, "Because I know Ravenclaw'll win."

You then made your way up to the stands, as Theo went to change and warm up. It wasn't long before the theatrics commenced.

"Alright, it seems the teams are ready to start, so on Madam Hooch's whistle..." the commentator, Lee Jordan's successor, spoke, followed by a sharp whistle, "And the teams are in the air..."

The boy commentating continued to describe what the green and blue players darting around in the cold and crisp air were doing regarding the four balls of quidditch. Watching intently, you observed as the quaffle was passed between people and through hoops. The score reached 80-60 to Slytherin.

You could have sworn that Theo was smirking at you.

Only, when the crowd on your side suddenly started cheering, you snapped your gaze away from Theo to see that the Ravenclaw seeker had a shiny golden sphere in their hand.

Immediately, you began cheering as well, throwing middle fingers in Theo's direction. He scowled and rolled his eyes, flying over to you.

"Rigged game."

"Sore loser."

"Whatever."

"That'll be two galleons, please."

He rolled his eyes again, "Meet me after."

***

"Come with me," he said the second he emerged from the changing rooms, grabbing your hand and pulling you along.

You were really confused as he dragged you all the across the quidditch pitch and over the grassy plains of the Hogwarts grounds. Unanswered questions filled you even more as you reached the less thick area of the Forbidden Forest, that was not as forbidden. In the distance, you could make out the skinny black silhouettes of the thestrals.

"Why'd you take me to the thestrals?"

"So you can see them?" he observed the mighty creatures as they noticed your presence.

"You can too?" you asked.

Moving closer to stroke one of them, he replied, "I told you that my mother passed— well, I held her hand on her deathbed when I was eight."

"Oh, I'm sorry..." you gently petted the same one he was.

Theo's mouth settled into a grim line, "Don't be."

Taking a deep breath, you said softly, "I watched my parents get killed when we were in fifth year. It was the Christmas holidays and I came home after shopping to see..." your breath hitched, "To see death eaters torturing them through the window..."

Instead of saying anything, Theo wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into his warm chest.

"I just wish I'd done something... but I... I couldn't..." you recalled the day, your heart aching.

"Hey, it's okay, bambi," he pressed a light kiss to your forehead.

"I know they... they only did it... because... because I'm a witch... I just..." you fought against the lump in your throat.

You drew back from his chest, and Theo stroked the softness of your cheeks, staring into your sparkling eyes. He couldn't understand why his heart hurt so much to see you saddened, let alone why it hurt even more when you forced a small smile.

It dawned on him that you were far from nervous and weak, instead quietly carrying the weight of a tragedy that many wouldn't be able to manage. He was amazed that you didn't break down every day: especially since it had been only a couple years, and you were so young.

The realisation that the Christmas season was probably no longer full of festivity and joy for you, but painful reminders and memories, was one that made him grasp your hand tightly.

"Y/N... you're the strongest, smartest and kindest person I know..." he spoke softly, caressing your palm.

Your voice cracked when you said, "Really?"

"Really," he confirmed. The next thing you felt was his soft and plush lips against yours, sitting there in a sweet and chaste kiss.

Your lips parted as he rested his forehead against yours and squeezed your hand as gently as if you were a porcelain doll.

"Where d'you go during the holidays?" he asked hesitantly.

"I live with my great aunt now."

The evidence of how hard you found the absence of your parents was shown through your expression.

"Is she nice?"

You nodded, "But she can't fill the hole."

He understood. His cold and cruel father could never— would never— step up and pick up where his angelic mother left off.

"Y/N," he said softly, "You know what my father is, don't you?"

"Everyone does," you murmured, "How is he not imprisoned?" You grimaced after asking that, and added, "No offense."

He chuckled dryly, "None taken. I despise him," he then paused for a moment, but continued, "I just want you to know I'm not like him— I'm not—"

You pushed a finger against his lips, silencing him. "I know, Teddy. I wouldn't be here right now if I thought you were, no?"

The corner of his lips curved up in a smile, "My mum used to call me that."

"Oh, I'm sorry—"

"No. It feels right coming from you."

You matched his smile. "Theo, I... I think I love you."

He cupped your face with his warm hands, "I know I love you."

—————————————

masterlist

written; 04/03/2020 —> 27/12/2024 published; 28/12/2024 edited; 25/03/2025

[leeny-leens]

cw: implied childhood trauma, thoughts about committing murder

The door slams shut, the sound ringing loudly through the apartment and he flinches. For a moment, he's back in that wretched house, anger clouding his parents' eyes as they strike and strike.

The next moment, he sees you furiously wiping your face, tears of anger wetting your cheeks. Immediately, he jumps from the couch he's sprawled on, meeting you halfway in a bone crushing hug.

"Shh, 's okay, 'm right here my sweet one," he cooes, rubbing your back as you fist the fabric of his shirt angrily in your hands.

"She's so fucking mean," you sob bitterly, and he swears that whoever this person is, they will be laying six feet under soon enough.

You stand in the middle of the living room for a few more minutes, your sobs slowly dying down while his voice fills the silence, whispering sweet nothings and words of comfort.

Finally, you let go of him just enough to look at his face, eyes swollen and eyelashes wet from all the crying.

"I'm sorry for slamming the door," you croak, guilt evident in your wobbly lips and hoarse voice.

"Apology accepted," he whispers, pressing his lips to your forehead with a small smile.

"How about you go change, I'll make us some snacks and then you can bitch all about what's making you mad over some chick-flicks and off brand sweets?" The prospect of a good venting session in your comfy lounge wear significantly boosts your mood, your entire body just about melting against him.

You grab him by the scruff of his neck, pulling him into a quick yet intense kiss that is tinged with the taste of your salty tears, sighing dreamily against him.

"I don't know what I did to deserve you, but I'm so grateful you're mine." You declare, finally untangling yourself from his embrace to disappear into your bedroom.

He looks after you fondly, staring at the shut door for a few moments before busying himself with the snack mission, humming the entire time, his mind on track to maximize the comfort you'll be receiving.

For the rest of the night, he holds you and lets you rant all you want, matching your energy at every step and thinks to himself that this must be the life, this is what makes all the years of hardships and pain really worth it.

Carl Gallagher, Blaise Zabini, Barty Crouch Jr., Regulus Black, Sirius Black, Evan Rosier, Mattheo Riddle, Theodore Nott, Miya Osamu

[cafechichay]

Paris, Texas

Pairing - Theodore Nott x Fem!Reader

Word Count - 19534 [2 to 3 hours of reading time - depending]

Content Warning - Slow burn Angst, Unrequited love, Pining!Reader, Being taken for granted, google-translated italian and french (i am an asian woman, i don’t know a lick of french)

Summary - Loving someone they way you want to be loved, doesn't always mean you will be loved the same way back

A.N. - Writing this whenever I got the chance (which also the same days that I don't speak a word of English). Thanks to ChatGPT for making this readable. Also dividers by @firefly-graphics <3

Poll Results: Literally everyone said to post this "now" (as in 4 days ago "now") but I ended up working 38 hours at my part-time since then so I apologise. Also this was also redrafted about 7 times because I wanted a realistic ending.

Enjoy! <3 (commenting and reblogging feeds the writing gremlin)

Wizards slowly began adopting Muggle holidays sometime around the 18th century. Those living in London found themselves enjoying each little tradition, each celebration the Muggles offered.

Valentine’s Day was one of the latest fads in the British-wizarding forums. Some had said a big-time French socialite had apparently introduced the tradition to his British amour, and since then, the excitement spread through the grapevine. From gifting beautiful, forever-blooming flowers to your beloved, to others frantically checking their Chocolate Frogs were not spiked with Amortentia — young wizards started basking in the celebration of young love (or platonic love for some).

Everyone, except you.

Classmates, dorm mates, and even your own best friends — Joycelin Sweeting and Astoria Greengrass — were ecstatic over the festivities. They had dragged you each weekend leading up to the big day to Hogsmeade and even trekked up to Diagon Alley for the perfect presents for their other halves. You were happy for them.

Truly.

They both had that beautiful twinkle in their eyes — and even though they were the most bubbly, fun-loving duo, you were almost 100% sure that their pupils turned into literal love hearts around their respective partners. Their hair was always curly or wavy (you had read in some book in the library that the magic surrounding a girl in love made their hair wavy for some reason), and their cheeks ached and flushed red with blush. You promised you were happy for them.

You had promised you were fine, telling Astoria to go on her date and reassuring Joycelin that you had more than enough on your plate. (That was a lie.)

The sun had barely risen but the time you sat in the Great Hall, the low chatter of students around you creating a hum that felt more distant than comforting. The flickering candles overhead cast shadows that danced lazily across the table, but you could not focus on the warmth. You felt the coldness inside you, a familiar emptiness that had settled in your chest ever since things had started to change. You could not help feeling sorry for yourself. Sitting here, on the morning of Valentine’s Day, seemingly the only student sitting alone. The dining hall was already quiet as it was, with many students opting for more romantic settings.

Your eyes flickered to the Slytherin table, your gaze inevitably falling on Theodore. He was there, of course, just like he always was, wrapped up in the world he had created around himself. The world that no longer seemed to have much space for you.

You could feel the ache settle into your bones, a quiet reminder of everything that had gone wrong—or seemingly, what seem to have disappeared over the winter break. It was not that he did not notice you; it was that he seemed to look through you these days. Every time you tried to get close, tried to bridge the growing chasm between the two of you, he had backed away, like you were not worth the effort.

And that was it. You were not worth the effort.

Theodore’s eyes did not meet yours now, and you were not sure if it was out of avoidance or simple disinterest. He had the same nonchalant air about him, speaking to the people around him in a tone that was not sharp, but cold enough to make you feel it in your gut. His friends, his fellow Slytherins, hung on the few words he said, laughing and teasing with ease. They did not know the quiet pain you felt just from being in the same room with him.

You turned your attention back to your plate, pushing food around without really touching it. The silence between you and him had become more deafening with each passing day. You tried to ignore it, to accept that it was what it was, but that did not stop the small part of you, the part that still hoped, from holding on.

A sharp pang of disappointment twisted in your chest as you watched a few girls from the other end of the table approach Theodore. Their laughter rang in the air, a sound that was light and carefree, like the weight of everything was irrelevant. You knew how they looked at him. You had seen it before. He was everything they admired—charming in a nonchalant type of way, and, for every reason you had been drawn to him in the first place, they couldn’t get enough of him.

A wave of frustration washed over you. You wanted to get up, leave this place where you felt so invisible, but the more you tried to retreat into yourself, the more desperate you were for Theodore to reach out for you.

But just as you were about to turn back to your breakfast, a voice broke through the quiet hum of the hall, this one different — more polite and genuinely warm.

Theodore was halfway through taking a bite of his toast when a voice rang out, light and sweet, carrying through the quiet of the hall, uninvited and unwelcome. “Theo, you are coming to the party tonight, aren’t you?”

The girl who spoke was one of those faces you often saw in the Slytherin corridor but never paid much attention to. A pleasant sort of girl, pretty enough, but always with a crowd. She had the kind of attention that came effortlessly, like a polished stone that had been smoothed by years of admiration. Her soft blonde curls bounced around her face as she leaned toward Theodore, her eyes wide with the warmth of something unfamiliar to you, something that felt a little too bright, too alive.

Her voice, though melodic, carried a subtle undertone of expectation. “It’s going to be fun,” she added with a smile, drawing the words out as though she was fishing for an answer. She did not care about the casualness of the conversation; she knew exactly what she was doing. Her fingers brushed lightly against Theodore’s sleeve as she spoke, and you could almost see the way her confidence bloomed in the space between them, wrapping around him as if they were already connected.

Theodore looked up slowly, his gaze flicking toward her, but the moment his eyes met hers, he seemed to settle into a practiced nonchalance. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips, but it was not the kind that reached his eyes. He gave a slight nod, still not meeting your gaze. “Yeah, I’ll be there,” he replied, his voice cool and flat, the same as it always was these days. Detached.

The girl beamed, as if the words were all she had wanted, but before she turned to go, she finally, almost reluctantly, glanced your way. Her eyes lingered on you for the briefest moment, as if she just remembered you were there, as if you had somehow faded into the background of the conversation she had been having with Theodore. It was not an unkind look, just distant — as though acknowledging your presence now was an afterthought.

“Oh,” she said, the pitch of her voice softening just a touch. “What about...” She slowly turned her head to your table. Her smile was kind, but it lacked warmth, like a perfunctory gesture more than a genuine inquiry.

You blinked, suddenly aware of the space between you and Theodore. The hall became so much larger than you had imagined, yet feeling narrower and overwhelming at the same time. You wanted him to say yes—better yet, walk down that endless hall to ask for your opinion. But you were also terrified. You did not want to admit that the very thought of being around people, of pretending to be something you were not, made your chest tighten. At this point, there was no telling what kind of relationship existed between you both. Your thoughts were swarming you these past couple of weeks— with one that had been quietly overcoming your mind for weeks, months now. You wanted to be seen— wanted to be wanted, even if just for a fleeting moment.

But before you could speak, Theodore’s voice cut through the tension, his words sharper than usual. “You know her,” he said, his tone distant and dismissive, “she’s not really a party person.”

And just like that, the words sank into your skin, prickling with discomfort. It was not a lie, not exactly, but it felt wrong. There was a bitter edge to it, something unspoken that settled over the dining hall like a growing storm. You were not a party person, no. But that was not the real reason you’d rather stay away. The truth was more complicated, more suffocating, and Theodore was too busy with his own distractions to notice.

The girl smiled again, this time with a hint of pity that stung more than it comforted. “I see,” she said, her voice dipping into something softer, almost apologetic, but you could see the beginnings of a smile on her lips. “I mean, no matter- we can always have fun for her. Right?”

She turned on her heel, slipping into the crowd of students with ease, leaving you in the quiet bubble of awkwardness that you had somehow found yourself in. The weight of his dismissal hung heavy in the air, suffocating you, even though he was not looking at you. His focus had already shifted to his friends, already lost in the rhythm of the day, and you felt the distance between you grow even wider.

You could not help but glance at him again, watching him talk to the group of Slytherins across the table, his face set in a way that looked practiced, familiar. His eyes never once flickered toward you. The indifference stung more than anything. He had done this before, turned his attention elsewhere, as if you were no longer worth the effort.

There was a knot in your stomach, tight and unyielding. It was hard to breathe around it, but you did not dare let it show. You did not dare let anyone see how much it hurt.

You knew better than to try and get his attention, though. You had learned long ago that when Theodore was not looking at you, nothing you did would change it. So you turned your gaze back to your untouched plate, pushing the remaining food around as if it could give you something to focus on, something to fill the hollow space.

The longer you sat there, the heavier the weight in your chest became — suffocating, relentless. The pitying look from that girl lingered in your mind, curling uncomfortably around your thoughts. It was not just the way she’d glanced at you like an afterthought — it was how right Theodore’s words had felt, how easily they’d seemed to confirm something you’d been trying to ignore for weeks.

You are not really a party person.

The words repeated in your head, twisting and distorting until they felt less like a passing comment and more like some unspoken truth — one you could not shake. It was not just that you did not belong at parties. It felt like you did not belong anywhere. Not with your friends, who had drifted into their own little worlds of whispered conversations and excited plans. Not with Theodore, who barely looked at you anymore — and if he did, it was only to find some way to push you further away.

And it was your own fault, was it not?

Your friends had tried — really tried — to keep you close. Joycelin and Astoria had spent weeks begging you to come with them — to Hogsmeade, to the common room, even just to sit with them in the Great Hall. They had coaxed you with warm smiles and reassurances that you’d have fun, but you never did. You could never quite shake the feeling that you were just… there. A shadow lingering behind them, dulling the brightness of their excitement.

It had reached the point where you almost felt guilty for saying yes — because each time you did, you could see it in their eyes. That flicker of hesitation, that subtle change in the air when you sat beside them. As though they were quietly waiting for you to dampen the mood.

You knew they loved you — you knew that. But sometimes love was not enough to stop you from feeling like a burden.

You wondered when it had happened — when you had become this person. The one who sat quietly at the edge of things, watching her friends smile and laugh from somewhere she could no longer reach. The one who had once been so full of warmth, now cold and withdrawn, retreating deeper into herself with each passing day.

It was not that you did not want to fight for what you once had — for Theodore, for your friends, for yourself. It was that you did not know how.

Because the truth was, you were tired — tired of trying to pretend that you were fine, tired of convincing yourself that this hollow feeling was not swallowing you whole. And most of all, you were tired of caring so much when it felt like no one seemed to care about you.

A dull ache settled behind your eyes, and you swallowed hard, blinking quickly to push the feeling down. You did not have the energy to fall apart — not here, not now. Instead, you kept your head low, eyes fixed on your plate as you tried to shrink into the silence, as if that might somehow make everything hurt a little less.

Just as you were about to sink back into your own thoughts, another voice broke through the fog of disappointment. The sudden shift in tone was enough to catch you off guard.

“Excuse me, are you… Y/N, right?”

The voice pulls you from your thoughts. You blink, not expecting to hear anyone speaking to you. When you look up, you are met with a pair of eyes. His eyes, a striking shade of blue, seem to gleam with an unexpected warmth. He stands there, leaning casually against the bench, his posture effortlessly confident. His dark hair, not quite as dark as Theodore’s but with a similar tousled quality, seems to catch the light in all the right places, and you can tell it’s the sort of hair that naturally falls into place, no matter what.

Adrien Delacroix.

His features are distinctively sharp, but there is a softness to them, too. He has a smile that feels almost practiced, easy, as if it is a shield he is worn a thousand times. His bone structure is different from Theodore’s—more delicate, with high cheekbones and a straight nose that seems to be chiseled perfectly. He’s stood there, looking down at you with an easy smile that barely hides his curiosity. He is tall—definitely taller than most guys in your year—and his gaze is steady, almost like he’s trying to read you.

The thought hits you immediately, almost involuntarily. What does he want?

You manage a quiet nod. “Uh… yeah. That’s me.”

You blink again, not sure what to say next, but Adrien doesn’t seem to notice your hesitation. You hate how small your voice sounds, especially compared to Adrien’s friendly tone. You immediately wish you could say something more—something to make this interaction feel less awkward, but your words feel like they’re stuck somewhere deep in your chest.

“I thought I… ah…” He pauses briefly, brow creasing as he searches for the right word. “Reconnu — recognised you,” he corrects himself, his accent curling softly around the syllables. He leans casually against the table, a faint smile playing on his lips. “I’m in a couple of your classes, and I’ve seen you around… but I’ve never had the chance to actually talk to you.”

He pauses for a moment, his hand lifting to push a strand of dark hair behind his ear with the same effortless grace that seems to define him. The way his accent lingers, slightly melodic and smooth as it dances in his words, makes you feel different. There’s something about him that feels different, refined—but not in an obvious, boastful way. Just in the way he holds himself, the subtle lift of his chin, the quiet confidence that lingers even in the simplest gestures.

“History of Magic, right?” Adrien asks, as if pulling you out of your thoughts. “You’ve been in my class the last few weeks… I think I sit behind you.”

Your heart beats a little faster, and a flush creeps up your neck. Adrien notices, a quick flash of amusement crossing his face, but he does not make a big deal out of it.

You force a smile, nervous and unsure. “I dunno… I sleep through most of it.”

His lips twitch as he laughs softly, his voice rich, and the sound catches you off guard. “Vraiment? Really?” he says, his grin widening. “You should definitely stay awake. It’s fascinating stuff.” His tone is teasing, but there’s something more in his eyes — something that almost makes you wonder if he’s being sincere.

“I—I’ll try,” you murmur, pulling your sleeves down further, hiding your hands in the folds of your robes. You are not used to this, not used to being noticed like this. Especially not by someone like Adrien, who seems to draw people’s attention without even trying.

You cannot help but notice the way his eyes linger on you for just a moment too long before he blinks and looks away. It’s a small thing, but it sends your heart racing, and you cannot figure out why.

He leans in slightly, his voice lowering a little. “You’ve got that quiet thing going on… makes you seem a bit… mystérieuse.” His lips twitch with a small smile. “It’s cute.”

The words hit you like a shockwave. Cute. The simplicity of it, the way it feels like a compliment that doesn’t carry any weight behind it, makes your chest tighten. It’s not an insult, but something about it makes you feel exposed, like you don’t deserve the attention he’s giving you. You’ve never thought of yourself as someone who could be “cute,” not the way the other girls are. You’ve spent so long hiding in the shadows, and now someone like Adrien is standing in front of you, treating you like you are someone worth noticing.

You do not know how to respond, so you just nod, suddenly feeling even more awkward. You can’t help it, your mind races with the thought that maybe he’s just being polite. Or maybe he’s just like the others who like to talk to you out of some weird obligation before moving on to something—or someone—else.

Adrien tilts his head, and for a moment, you are not sure if he’s trying to figure you out or if he’s just watching you. His lips twitch into a smile again, this time a little more knowing. “Well, if you ever need someone to keep you awake in History of Magic, I’m happy to help.”

You try not to smile, but the way his gaze lingers on you, the way he speaks, it’s hard not to. He seems genuine, yet you wonder how much of that is just the way he is—easy, charming, and unbothered.

“Or maybe we could catch up on what you’ve missed in the library?” He smiles, “I noticed you usually run off there as soon as Binns finishes.”

You shift slightly, the discomfort rising in your stomach. “I don’t usually spend much time in the library,” you say, almost apologetically, though you know it’s not entirely true. You’ve been there often, especially in the past few weeks, lingering in corners, trying to lose yourself in the quiet. You’ve seen Adrien there before, too, always focused, always absorbed in his reading. But you don’t mention that. It feels too intimate somehow, like acknowledging his presence would make this interaction even more real.

Adrien’s eyes soften as if he can see through your discomfort. He doesn’t push, and for a moment, you wonder if he’s actually paying attention to you—or just looking for something to fill the silence. He shifts, stepping a little closer, the air between you thick with something unspoken.

“I get that,” he says, his smile growing a little more genuine. “Hogwarts can be… eh… accablant… too much, no?” He chuckles softly. “I’ve only been here a little while, and I’m still figuring out where everything is.” His words are easy, his tone casual, like he’s trying to make you feel less out of place. You can tell he’s trying to make this conversation feel natural, but you can’t help but feel like you are failing at being natural, like every word that leaves your mouth is a stilted attempt to keep up.

You want to say something, to let him in, but the words feel wrong. Why is he even talking to me? You want to scream it, want to ask him why someone like him—who clearly fits in with all the bright, shiny faces at Hogwarts—would want to talk to someone like you. You are used to being on the outside, used to standing in the back while others take the spotlight. And here is Adrien, offering you a sliver of attention like it’s no big deal. You don’t know what to make of it.

But then he continues, his voice slipping back into that light, teasing tone. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you for a while, actually. I just didn’t know how to approach you though—thought it might be best find away to do it differently…”

You freeze, caught off guard by the statement. Differently? It feels like a compliment, but it also feels like a judgment. You never meant to be unreachable. Is he saying I’m weird? You can’t stop the flash of insecurity that rises in your chest. You are not sure whether to thank him for the words or shrink away in embarrassment. You barely know him, yet somehow, his words feel like they’ve carved into you in ways you are not ready for.

“Hey — I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable,” Adrien adds, as though sensing the shift in the air. “I just thought… maybe we could hang out sometime? I mean, I’ve seen you around, and you don’t seem like the type to just…” He pauses, brow furrowing slightly as he mutters, “Comment on dit… ah…” His fingers drum lightly on the table as he thinks. “Go with the flow?,” he finishes, a little unsure but still smiling. “You seem… hmm… like someone who thinks for herself. I thought it’d be nice to get to know you.”

The offer feels too big, too much for someone like you to take in, like a question you are not sure you are allowed to answer. You want to say no, to tell him it’s fine and you are used to being alone, but there’s a small part of you that wonders if maybe, just maybe, he’s being honest.

Before you can figure out what to say, Adrien’s smile softens, and he steps back, giving you a little more space. “I’ll see you around then?” His voice is lighter, not pushing, but still there, lingering.

You sit there, watching him walk away, still unsure whether his invitation was just a formality, something said to pass the time, or if he genuinely meant it. You don’t know. You don’t know him, not really, but the thought of being wanted, of being seen by someone like him, leaves you feeling both lighter and heavier all at once.

You can’t shake the comparison in your mind—the way Theodore’s presence always felt heavy, like there was something between you that you could not name. But with Adrien, it’s different. He’s easy. He doesn’t feel like a storm waiting to happen, like Theodore did. And yet, you feel unsettled, unsure if you should let yourself enjoy this attention.

But why would someone like him be interested in someone like me? You can’t shake the doubt, the feeling that this is all too good to be true.

The first few days after Adrien introduced himself passed with little fanfare. You found yourself thinking back to his words, but they felt like little more than a fleeting moment in the midst of your usual routine. School was still a whirlwind—lessons, assignments, and the ever-present hum of your friends dragging you along, their chatter and laughter filling up the corners of your days. You barely had time to notice the absence of anything new.

It was only in the quieter moments, when you found yourself alone with your thoughts, that Adrien’s voice would drift back into your mind. “It was nice talking to you.”

You weren’t sure why it lingered. He’d said it casually, a throwaway comment as if it was no different from any other greeting. But it was different. You weren’t used to being treated like that. It was a small thing, but in a life that had felt so filled with noise and obligation, it felt like a small light. Yet you pushed it aside. You didn’t know him. He was a stranger, no matter how pleasant.

Days passed, and you carried on as usual. You caught glimpses of him in the halls occasionally, but he never approached you again. You hadn’t expected him to, really. And you didn’t know what you would have done if he had.

But then, a few days later, you were walking down the corridor on your way to the library, a pile of books pressed tightly against your chest. You had your mind on your homework and what you had left to do that afternoon.

As you passed a corner near the library’s entrance, you nearly collided with someone. You glanced up, startled, and there he was—Adrien, his warm eyes locking onto yours as though he’d been expecting to see you. He stepped back just in time, allowing you to continue walking.

“Hey,” he said, his voice low, a smile tugging at his lips.

“Hi,” you answered, a little caught off guard, though you couldn’t quite place why. His smile was warm, genuine, and it did something strange to your heart—a soft flutter that you quickly buried under a sense of confusion. Why did it feel different when he smiled at you?

“I was actually heading to the library, too,” Adrien continued, his words stumbling slightly before he found the right phrasing. “I… uh… if you, uh, don’t mind, maybe I could… walk with you?”

His words came out with a slight hesitation, but his smile remained steady. You caught a soft ‘D’accord’ under his breath, as if he had been about to say something before stopping himself.

You didn’t answer immediately, unsure why it felt so difficult. But then you just shrugged. What harm could it do? It wasn’t like you had to say yes, but his offer felt casual enough—so you nodded.

“Sure, why not.”

The walk wasn’t long. You had a few moments of awkward silence, your footsteps echoing slightly in the hallway. But Adrien didn’t seem bothered by it. He didn’t try to fill the silence with pointless chatter, as some people would. He just walked beside you, the occasional glance in your direction almost like an invitation to speak, but never pushing for it.

When you arrived at the library, you felt an odd sense of… expectation. But why? You weren’t sure, and you couldn’t figure it out. He hadn’t even asked to sit with you. And yet, when you found a quiet corner, Adrien dropped down across from you with a casual air, pulling out a few books from his bag. You didn’t speak much at first, but the way he settled next to you, not intruding on your space but in a way that made you aware of him, was somehow comforting.

You focused on your work, but there were moments when you found yourself glancing up at him. His eyes were always so soft, always paying attention to the books in front of him, but you could tell that sometimes he looked at you, too. It was subtle, but it was there. He was careful, though, and never pressed you. You never felt like you were being watched. But there was something there, something unspoken.

It wasn’t like you’d thought anything would happen, but somehow, you felt a little lighter in the moments you shared with him, even if they were silent. You told yourself it was just the solitude of the library making it feel that way, nothing more.

The next few days followed a similar rhythm. Adrien continued to show up, not in an overwhelming way, but in the way of someone who was content with simply sharing space. You’d find him walking beside you in the halls, or—more often than not—he’d be sitting across from you in the library, quietly reading. Some days, he’d nod in your direction, offering a small, knowing smile. Other times, he would remain absorbed in his books, but you’d catch a glance his way, and his eyes would flicker toward yours before he quickly returned to what he was doing.

You still didn’t know how to feel about it. You weren’t used to the attention. It wasn’t anything grand or demanding, and maybe that’s why it unsettled you. Maybe it felt too easy. And maybe that was why you kept waiting for the moment it would end—waiting for the point where you’d both go your separate ways, like you always had before.

But that moment didn’t come.

A week passed, then two. Adrien didn’t disappear, but his presence began to feel familiar. Not in a bad way, but in the way that something small can slowly start to settle into your life without you quite realising it. You found yourself moving through your days in that strange mix of normalcy and anticipation.

By the third week, he’d started sitting next to you before you even had a chance to settle in. No longer waiting for an invitation, he simply dropped down next to you, book in hand. The quiet exchanges—small smiles, the soft rustle of pages turning—began to feel almost like a routine. Not something you had to think about.

And then, one day, he spoke up as you were gathering your things.

“I was thinking of going outside to study today,” Adrien said, looking at you as if the question were almost an afterthought. “Would you like to join me? The grounds look quieter with it being a little colder, no?”

You blinked, a little thrown off by the suggestion. You’d never thought of studying outdoors, especially when it was getting colder, but you couldn’t help but feel the soft pull of the invitation. There was something about the way he asked—it wasn’t pressure. It wasn’t forceful. It was simply an offer, the kind of offer you didn’t often get. No one had ever asked you to just be there, to sit in the open air and study without some ulterior motive.

“Uhm… yeah, sure,” you said, almost before you thought about it.

Adrien gave you a soft smile in response, and you noticed the faintest ‘Merci’ slip from his lips, as though he was thankful you’d agreed.

You couldn’t help but notice how your heart beat a little faster as you walked with him to the grounds, the soft crunch of leaves beneath your shoes, the crispness of the air making your breath visible in the autumn light. Adrien didn’t speak much during the walk, but there was an ease to it. A peaceful silence that you didn’t mind. You sat together on the grass, your books spread out in front of you, and for a few moments, the world just… slowed down.

The next few weeks felt much the same—slow, but different in a way that you couldn’t quite explain. You and Adrien started meeting more often, sometimes in the common room, other times out by the grounds. Conversations that had once felt awkward or forced now came more naturally. You weren’t always talking, but there was a sense of comfort in simply being near him.

You also started to notice the little things. Sometimes, when you were walking to class, Adrien would fall in step beside you. And not just to the library or the grounds, but even to places you didn’t have class together. You found yourself looking up, seeing his warm smile as he walked with you—just there, beside you. It wasn’t a big gesture, but there was something so simple and steady about it. You didn’t have to ask. He was just there.

Occasionally, he would notice you struggling with your bag or books, and without a second thought, Adrien would take them from you.

“Here,” he’d say, ‘Mon dieu,’ he’d mutter under his breath as he adjusted the weight, realising it was more than he anticipated. “I might have underestimated that.”

His touch was gentle, but firm, and his eyes always met yours with that same warm, effortless kindness. It wasn’t anything big, but it made you feel strangely cared for in a way you hadn’t expected.

And then, one day, you realised you were no longer simply meeting him in the library or on the grounds. Adrien had started showing up outside of those places, walking you to and from your classes. Even when you didn’t have class together, you’d find him walking beside you. Sometimes, you’d talk, sometimes not. But you always felt… lighter, more grounded with him by your side.

By the fifth week, something had changed. You were running late, as usual. You rushed through the hallways, trying to make it to Potions class on time, your bag slung over your shoulder and your books clutched tightly in your arms. You were almost there when you heard Slughorn’s voice, carrying through the door as he gave his typical greeting.

“Settle down, everyone!” Professor Slughorn’s booming voice echoed, followed by his characteristic chuckle. “We’re about to begin!”

You pushed the door open quickly, slipping inside the classroom and feeling a rush of embarrassment. As you entered, your eyes immediately searched for a spot. The room was buzzing with conversation, but the first thing you noticed was Theodore’s desk—his books already neatly arranged on the surface. He was speaking to a group of students, laughing softly, not yet noticing you.

Your gaze flicked over to the other side of the room, where Adrien was sitting alone. His posture was relaxed, his usual calm expression on his face. He seemed unaware of the subtle tension you felt, but when his eyes met yours, there was a flicker of warmth, a quiet understanding between you both that had grown stronger over the past few weeks.

You hesitated for a moment. Theodore’s desk was set up just a few feet away, and yet, it felt so distant. You swallowed, glancing back at Adrien, who was looking at you with that familiar, soft smile.

You took a few steps toward his desk, feeling your heart race a little. Your thoughts collided in a whirlwind—Should I? Will it be okay? You were almost at his side when you stopped, unsure. Was it too bold, too sudden?

“Is it… okay if I sit here?” you asked quietly, your voice small but sincere, the question almost slipping out before you could stop it.

Adrien’s face lit up, his smile widening with ease. There was no hesitation in his response. “Of course,” he said, his accent slipping through just a bit as he added, “It’s… it’s more than okay.”

The words had a warmth that settled in your chest. You nodded, feeling a strange sense of relief wash over you. There was something comforting about the way he made you feel, like you were exactly where you were supposed to be.

You slid into the seat beside him, your books still clutched in your lap, and glanced at the front of the room where Slughorn was still greeting the class. Your thoughts, however, lingered on the quiet space between you and Adrien. You couldn’t help but notice how easy it felt to sit next to him, how his presence made the world feel just a little bit softer.

Adrien shifted a little closer to his desk, leaning slightly in your direction as he began to unpack his things, but not too much—just enough to let you know he was there. It was subtle, but it made you feel less alone. You were here, in this moment, and for some reason, it felt like it mattered.

You settled into your seat, feeling the class start to hum around you as Slughorn continued his instructions. The words were a distant background noise now, and for a brief moment, you felt as though the world outside of this room had faded away. You were no longer rushing to catch up or trying to keep pace with your thoughts. You were just here, with Adrien, and it felt… easy.

The days had started to drag on, and with each one, the sense that something was off between you and Theodore Nott grew heavier. He couldn’t pinpoint it at first. There hadn’t been a single moment where you had argued or said anything that would cause him to doubt things between you. It was all the little things—the quiet shifts in your behaviour that he couldn’t ignore.

At first, he tried to brush it off, telling himself it was just the usual school pressure. Everyone was busy, and he knew you had other commitments, other friends. But the more he thought about it, the more something didn’t feel right. You hadn’t been by his side in the usual places—the library, the courtyard, the dining hall.

Theodore had always found comfort in those small, predictable routines you shared. The moments where you’d sneak into the library early, books scattered around the table as you both tried to get ahead on your assignments. The way you’d meet up in the courtyard after class, sharing a quiet moment before heading off to your next lesson. It wasn’t anything extraordinary, but it was your time, and it made everything feel familiar, safe, like the world around you could be chaotic, but at least you had that.

But now, it was as if those small moments had slipped away. You weren’t there waiting for him, and you weren’t with him when he expected you to be. At first, it was easy to ignore. But then, one morning, when he entered the dining hall, he caught sight of you. And his heart sank.

You were sitting with Adrien Delacroix.

It wasn’t that you weren’t allowed to sit with him—it was more that it was so different. You weren’t sitting with him like usual. You hadn’t even looked in his direction when he walked in. You and Adrien were talking, laughing, your heads bent close together as you shared some private joke.

Theodore’s eyes narrowed. Okay, he thought. It’s nothing. You were just talking to Adrien. He had no right to be bothered by it. It’s not like you weren’t friends with him. But still—something about it didn’t feel right. It didn’t feel normal.

He tried to ignore it as he sat down at his usual spot, forcing himself to focus on his food, but the image of you and Adrien stayed in his mind. He pushed it down, telling himself it was nothing, but the feeling lingered, twisting in his chest.

Days passed, and it didn’t get better. It only seemed to get worse.

Theodore started to notice more subtle things. Like how you always seemed to be in the places that were once yours—the library, the courtyard, the dining hall. And each time, you weren’t with him. You were with Adrien.

It wasn’t just that. You weren’t sitting where you usually did anymore. In the library, you used to sit next to him, always the quiet corner by the window where the light slanted just right. But now, when he walked in, you were already there—across the room, seated next to Adrien, books laid out in front of you both, engrossed in whispers of conversation.

The first time it happened, Theodore had walked in expecting to find you at the usual spot, but you weren’t there. He scanned the room quickly, his heart sinking when he finally saw you. And Adrien.

The feeling in his chest shifted—unsettled, uncomfortable—as he walked past you both, his gaze lingering for just a second longer than it should. You hadn’t looked up, not even when he passed. It was almost like you hadn’t noticed him at all.

The second time it happened, it was during lunch. The same table. The same seats. But again, you weren’t sitting with him. You and Adrien were deep in conversation, the two of you leaning toward each other, laughing about something that seemed to have nothing to do with him.

Theodore sat down, trying to pretend it didn’t bother him. He couldn’t bring himself to look at you. And when he did, his eyes would flicker to Adrien, to the way you smiled at him. It’s fine, he told himself again. You and Adrien were friends. But it didn’t feel fine. It didn’t feel right. He couldn’t shake the feeling of being pushed out of the space you once shared.

He couldn’t quite put it into words, but it hurt.

The courtyard was the same. He had always expected to see you there, waiting for him, ready to talk about whatever was on your mind. But more often than not, you were already with Adrien.

It was small at first—those little moments when you weren’t there—but it was consistent. It was happening so often now, he couldn’t ignore it.

Theodore’s eyes followed you from across the courtyard. You were walking with Adrien again, your arms swinging lightly at your sides as you exchanged easy words with him. It wasn’t just that you were walking together—it was how naturally it seemed to come to you. There was no hesitation, no wariness. You were laughing at something Adrien had said, your body language open and comfortable.

Theodore felt a twinge in his chest. It wasn’t jealousy—not exactly. Or maybe it was. He couldn’t quite sort through the jumble of emotions.

You had been so quiet with him lately. But here, with Adrien, you were lighthearted, carefree. So different. It stung.

He’d caught glimpses of this before, bits and pieces—your laughter a little louder when Adrien was around, your smiles more frequent. But seeing it like this, with the two of you walking side by side, so effortlessly close, made it feel… final.

The weight of the past few weeks pressed on him then—the subtle shift, the moments when he’d felt you slipping away without even realising why. You used to seek him out, find excuses to talk to him, to share your thoughts, even your silence. But recently… it had been different. More distant. More reserved.

And then, as if to confirm his suspicions, he saw you—laughing, your eyes bright as you interacted with Adrien and a group of friends. You were introducing Adrien to them, your hand lightly resting on his arm as you made some joke. Astoria and Draco were laughing along, their approval written across their faces. They exchanged knowing looks, their smiles stretching in approval at the ease with which you were interacting with Adrien.

Theodore stopped, watching from the edge of the group, unnoticed. His breath caught in his chest. You were so at ease around him. So different. Your laughter wasn’t strained or forced. It was free. Unburdened. It didn’t take much to see how much more comfortable you were around Adrien than you were with him.

You were surrounded by your friends—laughing, joking, pulling Adrien into the conversation with ease. Their eyes flickered between you two, and he saw them exchange smiles, clearly pleased with the dynamic between you. As if they were glad to see you so happy.

Theodore’s stomach twisted uncomfortably. Was this what you were becoming? The person you were without him?

The contrast was sharp. There you were, surrounded by people who seemed to appreciate you, who saw the side of you that he hadn’t seen in weeks. That he’d stopped seeing.

He couldn’t remember when things had started to shift. When had you pulled away? When had Adrien stepped into the spaces that were once his?

His heart ached with the realisation that you were no longer the person he shared these moments with. You weren’t the same. And worse still, it was clear you didn’t need him the way you had before.

But how had it happened? He thought, watching you, his mind spiralling.

By the time Potions class rolled around, the feeling had only grown worse. Theodore had arrived early, as he often did, hoping to settle in before the class began. He made his way to the table you usually sat at, gathering his books and preparing for the lesson, but he was soon called over by a classmate.

He gave the table one last glance before walking over, but something gnawed at him. He hadn’t seen you yet. Was she late again?

He thought nothing of it, you usually took a nap before Thursday’s potions class—often finding an empty nearby classroom to get yourself 20 minutes of sleep.

When Slughorn called for everyone to sit down, Theodore returned to the table, expecting you to already be there, as usual. He looked up, ready to greet you with a casual smile, only to pause to realise the seat was empty. He became confused.

Was she ill? Is she okay?

As he took his seat, he started twisting and turning, looking for all the other possible entrances—waiting for your hectic entrance. His heart dropped as his eyes landed on you—sitting with Adrien. Right there, on the other side of the classroom, with someone who wasn’t him. He blinked, almost thinking he had seen wrong, but no—the reality didn’t change. You were sitting beside him, your focus flicking between Slughorn and Adrien.

Theodore froze , his breath caught in his chest. At first, his mind registered the strange emptiness in his stomach, like something was missing. And then, his thoughts shifted.

She’s okay. Just not with me.

The words in his head felt like they were slowing down as he settled on his stool, trying to gather his thoughts. You and Adrien, already engrossed in a conversation, hadn’t even noticed him yet. His confusion only grew as he glanced at your table, trying not to show how the tightness in his chest was making it hard to breathe. Why weren’t you sitting with him?

Theodore’s grip on his quill tightened until his knuckles whitened. It had been weeks since you’d sought him out, and now… now, it was like he didn’t even exist in the spaces you once shared.

He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. Something had changed.

Theodore had never considered himself an impatient person. He knew how to wait. He had spent years perfecting the art of watching, observing, and keeping his emotions neatly in check, tucked away beneath layers of carefully constructed indifference.

But right now, sitting in this godforsaken Potions lesson, he felt like he was unraveling.

His grip on his quill was tight, the feathered tip bending slightly under the pressure of his fingers. He forced himself to focus on the instructions, on the slow, deliberate movements of slicing up the ginger roots in front of him. But his hands were tense, his shoulders stiff, his entire body wound so tightly that he thought if someone so much as breathed wrong in his direction, he might snap.

He had been watching you. He hated that he had been watching you.

But how could he not?

You were right there, just a few feet away, your head tilted toward Adrien, your expression soft in a way that Theodore hadn’t seen in what felt like a lifetime. The two of you worked side by side, close enough that your elbows brushed every now and then, and each time it happened, you didn’t flinch away. Didn’t seem to mind at all.

It was infuriating.

He didn’t understand it—this shift, this change, the way you had slipped out of his grasp so seamlessly that he hadn’t even noticed until it was too late.

Maybe that was the worst part.

He could still remember the way things used to be—the way you used to seek him out, even when he wasn’t looking for you. The way you’d drop into the seat beside him without a second thought, a quiet presence that had never felt intrusive, never felt unwelcome. The way you had once laughed with him, not the way you did with Adrien now, but in a way that had been just for him.

But that version of you was gone, wasn’t it?

Theodore’s jaw clenched, and before he could stop himself, his fingers tightened around his quill—too tight.

The wood snapped between his fingers with a sharp crack.

A few students turned at the noise, but Theodore didn’t move. He barely even registered the ink that dripped onto his parchment, spreading into dark, messy blotches. His pulse was hammering against his ribs, a steady, unrelenting rhythm that did nothing to soothe the weight pressing against his chest.

He had to get a grip.

He forced his fingers to relax, letting the broken pieces of his quill drop onto the desk. He exhaled slowly, but it didn’t make a difference. The irritation still clawed at him, sharp and unrelenting.

He was tired of this. Tired of pretending that it didn’t matter, tired of convincing himself that it didn’t get to him every time he saw Adrien carrying your books, or walking beside you like he had always belonged there.

Because he hadn’t.

That was Theodore’s place.

Or at least—it had been.

He hadn’t been able to talk to you properly in weeks. Not because he didn’t want to. He did. He wanted to find you alone, wanted to pull you aside, wanted to demand answers that he wasn’t even sure he could put into words.

But every time he tried, Adrien was there.

It was infuriating how easily the other boy had slid into your life, how effortlessly he had taken up space that should have been Theodore’s.

He had tried to tell himself that he was being irrational. That there was no reason to feel like this, no reason to let something as simple as your choice of company bother him.

But it did.

It fucking did.

And what made it worse—what made it unbearable—was that you didn’t seem to notice.

You didn’t notice how he looked at you when you weren’t paying attention.

Didn’t notice the way his hands curled into fists every time Adrien slung an arm around your shoulder.

Didn’t notice the way he had started walking slower in the hallways, lingering just long enough to see if you’d turn to him, if you’d say something, anything.

But you never did.

Theodore inhaled sharply, forcing himself to keep his expression impassive as he glanced toward you again.

You were laughing.

Not just a quiet chuckle, not the polite kind of laughter you gave when you were only half-paying attention. No, this was different. This was real. Genuine. The kind that made your eyes crinkle at the edges, that made you drop your head slightly like you couldn’t quite contain it.

And Adrien—fucking Adrien Delacroix—was looking at you like you had given him the best gift in the world.

Theodore’s fingers curled around the edge of his desk, nails pressing into the wood.

The sound of Slughorn’s voice cut through the air, signalling the end of the lesson, but Theodore barely heard it.

He was still staring at you, at the way you gathered your things with an easy, unbothered grace, completely unaware of the storm raging inside him.

He should say something.

Now.

This was his chance.

Before he could overthink it, before you could leave the room, before Adrien could whisk you away yet again.

But just as he stepped forward—

Adrien turned to you, saying something quietly, something just for you. Whatever it was, it made you smile, and then, just like that, you were walking toward the door with him, the two of you slipping effortlessly into the current of students flooding the corridor.

And Theodore—

Theodore was left standing there, fists clenched at his sides, frustration coiling tightly in his chest like a noose.

He couldn’t do this anymore.

This wasn’t just irritation. This wasn’t just some fleeting annoyance that he could brush off with a sharp exhale and a roll of his shoulders.

No—this was something else entirely.

Something heavier.

Something dangerously close to regret.

Theodore barely felt his feet against the stone floor as he stormed through the castle. His mind was racing, his pulse pounding, the frustration still simmering beneath his skin like an open wound.

He couldn’t shake the image of you and Adrien in Potions. The way the two of you worked so easily together, the way your elbows brushed when you leaned too close. The way he murmured something low, just for you, and the way your lips had twitched with amusement before you gave him that look. That soft, private look that Theodore hadn’t seen in weeks.

It was wrong. It should have been him sitting next to you, not Adrien. It should have been his shoulder brushing against yours. He should have been the one pulling your cauldron closer when you got distracted, the one smirking as you muttered something under your breath about how you hated Slughorn’s tedious assignments. He should have been the one you turned to with that easy familiarity, the kind that once belonged to him and only him.

But he wasn’t.

Because you had stopped turning to him at all.

And now? Now you had Adrien-fucking- Delacroix acting like he had any right to step into that space, like he had the right to replace Theodore without a second thought. Like you had simply let it happen.

His hands clenched at his sides.

He had to know. Had to understand why this was happening, why you had pulled away, why it felt like you had disappeared from his life without so much as a second glance. Because if he didn’t get answers soon, he felt like he might lose his goddamn mind.

He took the corner sharply, heading straight for Draco’s dorm.

Someone moved into his path.

“Theodore?”

It was the girl from before—the one who had approached him at breakfast, the one who had tried to invite him to the Valentine’s party some weeks back. The same girl who had looked at you with thinly veiled amusement, like you were some afterthought to her plans.

He didn’t care about her.

She stepped toward him with a bright, expectant smile. “I was wondering if—”

He walked right past her.

Didn’t slow down. Didn’t acknowledge her.

Didn’t even hear what she had been about to say.

Her voice faltered, her footsteps pausing behind him, but he didn’t bother looking back. He was already moving, already set on what he needed to do, already too far gone to stop now.

Draco was going to tell him what the hell was going on.

His patience had finally run out.

By the time he reached the door, he didn’t hesitate. He slammed his fist against it, hard enough that the hinges rattled.

“Malfoy,” he bit out, voice sharp, demanding. “Open the fucking door.”

Nothing.

His fingers curled into a fist again, his knuckles burning.

“If you don’t open it right now, I swear I’ll—”

The handle gave way easily beneath his grip. The door wasn’t locked.

He shoved it open, frustration spilling over—

And immediately regretted it.

Draco Malfoy was on his bed, half-naked.

Astoria Greengrass was also half-naked.

The sheets had barely been pulled over her, her blouse abandoned somewhere on the floor, her curls disheveled in a way that left absolutely nothing to the imagination. Draco was sitting up against the headboard, shirtless, his hair a mess, looking every bit like someone who had just been interrupted at the worst possible moment.

Theodore froze.

Astoria froze.

Draco blinked once, then exhaled like this was nothing more than an inconvenience.

For a full, excruciating moment, nobody moved.

Then Astoria let out a noise of sheer disbelief, scrambling for the sheets to cover herself. “Are you actually fucking serious, Nott?”

Theodore felt like he’d been dropped into hell.

His eyes snapped to the ceiling. “For fuck’s sake—” He turned sharply, facing the door, but didn’t leave. His fingers dug into his temples as he let out a slow, aggravated breath. “Why the fuck was your door unlocked?”

Draco just rolled his eyes, completely unbothered. “Didn’t think a lunatic was about to barge in.”

Astoria scoffed from where she stood by the wardrobe, still tying the belt of Draco’s robe around her waist. “Merlin, if I had a Galleon for every time a Slytherin boy had a meltdown in this room, I’d be rich.”

Theodore barely heard her. His patience snapped.

“What’s going on with her?”

Draco raised a brow. “Who?”

Theodore saw red.

Before he could stop himself, he grabbed Draco’s collar and yanked him forward, the frustration that had been simmering beneath his skin finally spilling over.

Draco barely reacted, unimpressed as ever, but before he could pry Theodore off—

Astoria grabbed Theodore’s collar.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” she groaned, physically pulling Theodore back with both hands, forcing him to let go of Draco’s shirt. “If you’re about to start some macho territorial bullshit, at least have the decency to do it outside where I’m not half-naked.”

Theodore barely stumbled, but his glare snapped to her. “Stay out of this, Greengrass.”

Astoria barked out a short, disbelieving laugh. “Oh, sweetheart, I wouldn’t dream of it.” She crossed her arms, gaze narrowing. “What the hell is your problem?”

“My problem,” Theodore hissed, shaking his head, “is that you two clearly know something and are dragging this out instead of telling me what the fuck is going on.”

Draco straightened his collar like nothing had happened, exhaling in exasperation. “I already told you—”

Astoria cut him off, rolling her eyes. “He’s too dense, Malfoy. Just tell him what your dear cousin is doing before he starts breaking furniture.”

Draco shot her an unimpressed look but obliged, sighing as he finally leaned back against the headboard.

“She’s seventeen, Theodore.”

Theodore clenched his jaw. “I know that.”

“Do you?” Astoria interjected, raising a brow. “Because you’re acting like it’s some great mystery why a girl like her is suddenly acting her age.”

Theodore snapped his head toward her. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Astoria exchanged a slow glance with Draco, like they were having a silent conversation. Then she sighed dramatically, sitting on the edge of the bed and propping her chin on her palm.

“It means,” she said slowly, “that it’s embarrassing how blind you are.”

Theodore’s nails dug into his palms. “Watch it, Greengrass.”

“Or what?” she shot back, unimpressed. “You’ll shove me into a wall next? Gods, you are so obvious.”

Draco smirked. “She’s right, you know.”

“Of course I am,” Astoria said, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “Here’s the thing, Nott. If you wanted her to stay in your orbit, maybe you shouldn’t have acted like she was nothing more than some convenient little thing to have around.”

Theodore’s jaw ticked. “That’s not—”

“She’s moving on,” Draco interrupted, his voice eerily calm. “Because that’s what people do when they realise they’ve been wasting their time.”

The words landed like a slap.

Theodore swallowed, something bitter curling in his stomach.

Astoria hummed. “I mean, you didn’t actually think she’d wait around for you forever, did you?” She tilted her head, watching him. “Poor thing probably woke up one day and realised she was chasing after a ghost.”

Theodore’s hands curled into fists. “That’s not how it was.”

Draco gave him a flat look. “Wasn’t it?”

Theodore hated the way his stomach twisted.

“She’s not stupid, Nott,” Draco continued, voice cool. “And she’s not waiting anymore. She’s looking for something better.” He smirked, slow and sharp. “Someone better.”

Astoria whistled. “Brutal.”

Theodore exhaled harshly through his nose, shaking his head. “That’s not—” He stopped himself. His voice had wavered. Fuck.

Astoria’s expression shifted, like she had caught something in his face that he hadn’t meant to show. Then, to his absolute fury, she smiled.

“Oh, this is rich,” she mused, eyes flickering over him. “You actually thought she was always going to come back to you, didn’t you?”

Theodore froze.

Draco chuckled under his breath.

“She did, though, didn’t she?” Astoria continued, tapping a finger against her knee. “Every time you got too cold, every time you pulled away, every time you treated her like a second thought—she still came back. And now that she’s not?” Her lips curled, saccharine and cruel. “You don’t know what to do with yourself.”

The words dug in deep, cutting through skin and bone like a blade.

Draco sighed, stretching out his legs. “You’re pissed off because you thought you had all the time in the world.” He gave Theodore a lazy once-over. “But newsflash—you don’t.”

Astoria nodded in agreement. “Adrien Delacroix is looking like a much better option than a boy who can’t make up his fucking mind.”

Theodore’s breathing was sharp, unsteady. His mind raced, but his lips remained pressed in a tight, stubborn line. He refused to acknowledge the sickening feeling twisting inside him, the one whispering that Draco and Astoria were right.

They weren’t. They couldn’t be.

You weren’t moving on.

You weren’t choosing Adrien over him.

You couldn’t be.

“I never treated her like a second thought,” Theodore muttered, voice tight, controlled—barely masking the storm raging inside him.

Astoria let out a short, humorless laugh. “Oh, really?” Her arms crossed over her chest, her expression sharpening into something lethal. “Then what the hell do you call the past few months, Nott?”

Theodore’s jaw clenched. He opened his mouth to argue—

But Astoria gasped dramatically, her hand flying to her chest in mock horror.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” she sneered, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Did I say months? That was a huge mistake.” She took a step closer, her smirk turning cold.

She tilted her head, eyes gleaming with something vicious.

“Years.”

The words landed like a curse, slamming into Theodore’s chest, wrapping around his ribs like an iron vice.

His stomach dropped.

Astoria scoffed. “Yeah, years, Nott. Years of you keeping her close enough to touch but never letting her hold on. Years of her looking at you like you hung the fucking stars, waiting—praying—for you to see her the way she saw you.”

Theodore’s breath was coming in short, uneven pulls.

“But you didn’t, did you?” Astoria pressed, her voice razor-sharp. “Or maybe you did, and you liked knowing she’d never leave. That no matter how many times you ignored her, no matter how many times you pulled away, no matter how many times you made her feel like she was nothing—she’d still be there.”

Theodore’s stomach twisted violently.

Because she was right.

You had always been there.

And he had been stupid enough to take that for granted.

His throat felt tight. “That’s not—”

“That’s exactly what happened!” Astoria screamed, her voice cracking, raw with frustration. “She spent years orbiting around you like you were something fucking sacred. Like you were the fucking sun and she was just lucky to stand in your light.”

Theodore felt like he couldn’t breathe.

“But stars burn out, Nott,” Astoria spat, hands trembling at her sides. “And eventually, people stop waiting.”

His chest ached—something sharp, something unbearable, something he hadn’t even realized was there until this moment.

You had waited for him. For so long. And he—

He had wasted it.

Astoria wasn’t finished.

“And you know what the worst part is?” she demanded, stepping even closer, fury flashing in her eyes. “She never even wanted to say anything about it! She just took it.”

Theodore blinked. “What?”

Astoria let out a hollow laugh. “Oh yeah, she never complained. Never confronted you. Never demanded that you finally make up your fucking mind.” She sneered. “But Draco noticed, didn’t you?”

Draco exhaled through his nose, nodding, his expression unreadable.

“She never told me,” he admitted. “But I saw the red eyes. The tear-stained sleeves. The way she always looked away when she thought no one was watching.”

Theodore’s chest constricted, a sickening pressure building in his ribs.

No.

No, that wasn’t—

You had never—

Had you?

“She thought she was hiding it,” Astoria continued, voice filled with something dangerously close to disgust. “But I got her to talk. Eventually. And do you know what she said?”

Theodore couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.

“She said it didn’t matter.” Astoria’s voice softened for just a second, something bitter laced in her tone. “She said she was fine. That you weren’t doing anything wrong—that it was just how you were.” Her expression hardened again, her hands clenching into fists. “And do you know how fucking heartbreaking it is to watch someone shrink themselves into something manageable just so the person they love doesn’t feel guilty?”

Theodore’s hands were shaking.

“She acted like it was normal,” Astoria went on, her voice rising again. “Like it was fine that she spent years being treated like an afterthought—like she should just be grateful for the scraps of attention you gave her.”

Theodore felt like he was going to be sick.

She had hurt because of him.

She had cried because of him.

And he had never even noticed.

Astoria exhaled sharply, shaking her head. “And now you have the fucking audacity to stand here and act like she’s the one abandoning you?” Her voice broke, half a laugh, half something furious. “No, Theodore. You don’t get to do that. You let her go. And now she’s choosing to be happy.”

Theodore’s nails dug into his palms so hard he thought they might draw blood.

Because he saw it now.

Every moment he had let pass. Every glance you had given him that he had pretended not to notice. Every fucking time you had stood next to him, waiting for him to say something, to do something, and he had done nothing.

And now you weren’t waiting anymore.

His voice was hoarse when he finally spoke. “I care about her.”

Astoria’s laugh was vicious. “No, no, you fucking don’t.”

Theodore flinched.

Astoria stared at him for a long moment, her eyes still burning. Then, she exhaled and threw up her hands. “Oh, my god.”

Theodore swallowed hard.

Astoria turned to Draco. “Why are boys so fucking stupid?”

Draco sighed. “It’s genetic.”

Theodore’s control shattered. His pride was in ruins. He took a step forward, his voice breaking. “Please.”

Astoria blinked.

Draco raised a brow.

Theodore swallowed hard. His throat burned, his chest ached, but none of it mattered. Not compared to this.

“I can’t—I can’t lose her,” he said, voice shaking. “I can’t—” He cut himself off, jaw clenching as he forced himself to meet Astoria’s gaze. “Just tell me what the fuck to do.”

Astoria studied him.

Then she sighed, rubbing her temples. “God, you’re pathetic.”

Draco hummed. “Painful to watch, really.”

Astoria rolled her eyes. “Fine. Fine.” She took a step forward, poking a sharp finger into Theodore’s chest. “You want to fix this?”

Theodore didn’t even hesitate. “Yes.”

“Then stop thinking about it and do something, you absolute coward.”

Theodore exhaled shakily.

Astoria didn’t let up. “You don’t get to just show up and expect her to forgive you. You have to fight for her. You have to prove to her that you give a shit.”

Theodore swallowed hard.

Draco smirked. “Sounds like a grand gesture is in order.”

Astoria snorted. “Not even. Something consistent, Nott. Because trust me—Adrien is making it very, very easy for her to forget about you.”

Something flared hot in Theodore’s chest.

No.

You weren’t going to forget him.

He wasn’t going to let you.

And for the first time in his life—

He was going to fight for you.

Theodore woke with a start, the sharp knock at his door pulling him violently from the tangled haze of restless sleep. His head jerked up, and for a disoriented moment, the room swayed around him—stacks of parchment, ink-stained hands, the bitter taste of exhaustion thick on his tongue. His cheek had been pressed against his desk, the parchment beneath it crumpled, words smudged into an indecipherable mess. His body ached, stiff from the awkward position he’d fallen asleep in, and as he blinked blearily, the sight before him sank in with a slow, leaden weight.

His desk was an absolute disaster. Papers—so many of them—scattered across the wooden surface, some half-crumpled in frustration, others folded neatly, all of them failed attempts at something that should’ve been simple. Letters.

He had tried to write to you.

The realization clawed at him, dragging its nails down his ribs. The ink had bled through some pages, the sentences struck through with such force that they had torn, his frustration laid bare in every scratched-out word. Apologies he couldn’t get right. Apologies that, even now, felt meaningless. His own handwriting glared back at him in different variations of the same pitiful attempts:

I should’ve—

I never meant—

If you could just—

None of them were right. None of them would fix it.

A second knock echoed against the heavy door, firmer this time. He exhaled sharply, running a tired hand over his face before pushing himself up from the desk. The room felt suffocating, a mess of discarded pages, ink bottles knocked onto their sides, the air thick with the weight of too many unsaid things. He barely remembered falling asleep. He barely remembered anything past the spiral of last night—pacing the room, writing, tossing letter after letter into the pile, his mind a hurricane of words he could never bring himself to say aloud.

And now, someone was here.

Dragging himself toward the door, Theodore pulled it open without much thought. The sight that greeted him made his stomach drop.

Packages. Stacked haphazardly outside his room, almost comically abundant. A house-elf stood beside them, looking mildly unimpressed as he shuffled the last box into place.

“Delivery for Master Nott,” the elf announced, then, without another word, disappeared with a sharp crack, leaving Theodore standing there, staring at the pile of things he had—

Merlin.

His fingers twitched at his sides, a slow, creeping horror settling into his bones as he took in the sight properly. Wildflowers, their petals pristine and delicate, wrapped in deep green silk. A book—the one you had mentioned in passing months ago, the one you had run your fingers over in the shop window but never bought for yourself. You've probably found a way to read this already. Jewelry, carefully selected, gleaming in the light. And more—small things, tokens, pieces of something that, at the time, had seemed like they would mean something.

His gut twisted.

"Cazzo," he muttered under his breath, running a hand down his face, pressing his fingers hard against his closed eyes.

This—this was pathetic.

A short, breathless laugh left him, bitter and self-deprecating. He ran a hand through his hair, tugging slightly at the strands as if it might ground him, as if it might undo whatever this was. What had he been thinking? That he could throw money at this, at you, and somehow that would fix it? That he could neatly wrap up his guilt in expensive gifts and you’d just—what? Forgive him? Pretend none of it happened?

Theodore swallowed hard, his gaze darkening as it lingered on the unopened packages. The weight of it all—the sleepless nights, the letters he could never finish, the sharp edges of regret cutting into him—it crashed down with a force that made his chest feel hollow.

Because he saw it now.

You wouldn’t take any of this. You would look at the flowers, the book, the jewelry, all of it—and you would see right through him. You would see the desperation, the guilt, the pathetic attempt to mend something that was already broken.

He saw you standing there, just beyond the mess, your figure sharp against the blur of his exhaustion. The tilt of your head, the steady weight of your gaze—it was you. It had to be. You were right there, arms crossed, expression unreadable, watching him in that way that always made his chest feel tight.

For a split second, relief surged through him, raw and unfiltered. You had come. You had seen the mess, the letters, the wildflowers, the pathetic attempt at fixing things, and you had come anyway.

But you weren’t saying anything. You were just standing there, your eyes scanning the disaster around him, and when they met his, they weren’t filled with anger. They were filled with something worse.

Disappointment.

His stomach twisted, his throat tightening painfully. He opened his mouth, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. "I know—" His voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper. "I know it's not enough."

You didn’t move. Didn’t react. The silence pressed against him, heavier than anything he had ever felt.

He swallowed hard, shifting on his feet. "I just—" He let out a short, unsteady breath, raking a hand through his hair. "What the fuck was I thinking?"

Still, nothing. Your gaze didn’t waver, and that was what made it unbearable. It wasn’t cruel. It wasn’t cold. It was just… resigned.

"Cazzo," he muttered under his breath, dragging his hands down his face. "I should've—"

You can’t buy my forgiveness, Theodore.

The words weren’t loud. They weren’t cruel. But they might as well have been a curse, sinking deep into his chest, curling around his ribs like something inescapable.

He inhaled sharply, closing his eyes, willing the vision to disappear.

But when he opened them again—you were gone.

He exhaled sharply through his nose as if that could push the thought away. As if he didn’t already know, deep down, that you had every right to say it.

Because this wasn’t about the gifts. It was about everything before them. The years of taking you for granted. The dismissals, the avoidance, the ways he had let you slip through his fingers like something he had assumed would always be there.

And now, when he was finally ready to reach for you—you weren’t waiting anymore.

The realization hit harder than he expected, slamming into him like a punch to the ribs. His throat tightened, and for a long, unbearable moment, all he could do was stand there, staring at the mess he had made.

Then, with a sharp inhale, he turned away. The packages remained where they were, untouched, as Theodore shut the door behind him, pressing his back against the wood.

He needed to do better.

But for the first time, he wasn’t sure if it would be enough.

How was he supposed to reach you now? How was he supposed to even begin to fix this? He couldn’t just show up—not after everything, not after the silence he had let stretch between you like an uncrossable chasm. And yet, the thought of doing nothing, of letting this fester, made his stomach churn violently.

His hands curled into fists at his sides, his jaw tightening. He had spent so long keeping you at a distance, and now that you were truly out of reach, all he wanted to do was find you.

But how?

Theodore wasn’t sure how long he had been sitting there.

He had come out to the courtyard for a cigarette—just one, just long enough to clear his head. Long enough to pretend that he wasn’t unraveling from the inside out. But the hours had slipped by like water through his fingers, and now the sun was setting, casting the sky in deep purples and burnt oranges. His cigarette pack was almost empty. His fingers were stained with nicotine, raw from how many times he had burned each cigarette down to the filter.

The taste of smoke lingered thickly at the back of his throat, acrid and familiar, but it wasn’t doing anything to settle him. His nerves felt frayed, his thoughts tangled in a loop he couldn’t escape. The mess of the morning still clung to him—Astoria’s words, Draco’s sharp-edged amusement, the unbearable weight of knowing he had let you slip right through his fingers.

He didn’t want to talk to them again. Pushing harder would mean Astoria telling him to fuck off or worse—another lecture from her sharp tongue. And Draco? Draco was already entertained enough by this whole thing. No. If Theodore was going to understand what had changed, there was only one person who could give him that answer.

Adrien Delacroix.

The thought of Adrien gnawed at him. He’d noticed him the second he stepped into the courtyard, but Adrien had been here first. That should have meant something. Should’ve given him the right to ignore him, to pretend that he wasn’t watching from the corner of his eye as Adrien sat with his group of friends.

"C'est insensé," one of them muttered, shaking his head. "Tu as vu? Since—je ne sais pas, maybe une hour?"

Adrien exhaled through his nose, unimpressed. "Je sais."

The boy scoffed. "Mais pourquoi? What is his problem? He just—stares, like—like he wants to kill you."

Another boy chuckled, glancing over his shoulder. "You steal his girlfriend or something?" His accent thick but teasing. "He looks at you like... like you took something from him."

Adrien smirked, shaking his head. "Non. But maybe he thinks so."

Theodore’s chest tightened, his hands shaking, his cigarette burning down too quickly in his hand. He could feel the jealousy curling in his gut like a fist. The idea that Adrien could have anything to do with you—it shouldn’t matter. He knew it shouldn’t matter. But fuck, it did.

His teeth ground together, a bitter taste rising in his mouth. The laughter of Adrien’s friends, casual and light, sent a flare of irritation through him. He hated how Adrien made everything feel easy—like he was untouchable. It burned even worse when Theodore had to rely on him to understand what had changed.

And still—he couldn’t just let it go.

The thought of asking Adrien for help was almost unbearable. His pride bristled at the idea of begging, of needing someone like him for something. Adrien had a way of making everything feel like a game, like Theodore was just another piece on his chessboard.

But fuck, the thought of not asking him was worse. The knot in his chest tightened. If Adrien was the answer, then he’d have to go to him. And that was the last thing he wanted.

But what else was there? How else would he get to you?

Adrien laughed again. The sound caught him off guard—light, unbothered. It threaded through the crisp evening air like it belonged there. Theodore didn’t want to hear it. But somehow, it clung to him, stoking the fire in his chest.

"Merde," one of Adrien’s friends muttered, and Theodore’s stomach twisted. "Regarde encore— he’s still looking."

Adrien sighed, rubbing his temple. "Je sais."

Theodore’s shoulders tensed. The idea that Adrien could sense him watching—feel his gaze—made his blood boil. He dropped his gaze, flicking the last of the cigarette, trying to feign disinterest, but it was too late. The damage was done.

"Mais pourquoi?" the other boy scoffed, laughing in confusion. "What is his problem? Il te déteste ou quoi? He stares—like—comme un chien abandonné."

Theodore’s heart raced, the words biting deeper than they should’ve. He wasn’t staring—he wasn’t! Just watching. Just—he wasn’t sure what it was.

But Adrien—he huffed out a short, tired laugh, stretching his arms behind him. "Non. Mais—" He tilted his head slightly, like he was thinking, like he was weighing something. "Maybe he doesn’t know what he wants."

Another boy snorted. "C'est triste. Feels like he wants to fight you ou beg for something."

Laughter, casual, and it dug at Theodore, twisting inside him. He could almost hear the amusement in Adrien’s voice—like he knew exactly what he was doing to him. It was infuriating.

But worse, much worse, was the sinking feeling that had settled in his chest. Adrien was playing some game—he always did—but now, it felt different. Every second he spent here, just watching, was another second he was losing control. Losing ground.

Theodore ground his teeth together, the ember of his cigarette flaring briefly with the tightness in his grip. He wasn’t even sure why he was still here—still stuck in this courtyard, pretending he didn’t care. He didn’t need to care.

But you do, a voice in his head whispered, and Theodore slammed it down immediately. No. He didn’t need to do this. He didn’t need Adrien. Didn’t need anything from him. The thought was a bitter taste at the back of his throat.

His gaze had drifted again. Adrien was still there, still with his friends, still being him, laughing, existing like the world had nothing on him. Theodore’s eyes narrowed, but his thoughts felt like they were slipping away, growing foggy, distant. It wasn’t that he wanted to look—he didn’t, not anymore—but his mind wouldn’t stop replaying everything. Every word, every laugh, every glance.

Before he knew it, he was no longer paying attention to anything around him—just lost in the buzz of his own thoughts. Adrien’s presence was like a shadow he couldn’t shake, hovering at the edge of his mind, no matter how much he wanted to push it away.

That was when he felt it.

A shift in the air. A pressure building. Like the ground was vibrating, or the space around him had suddenly grown too small.

Theodore’s heart skipped a beat, a flutter of panic rising in his chest. He hadn’t heard any footsteps—hadn’t seen Adrien moving, hadn’t noticed him leave his friends.

But then—

Adrien’s figure appeared in his peripheral vision, and Theodore’s breath caught in his throat.

He didn’t know how to process it, how to even think about it. Adrien was walking straight toward him, cutting through the space between them like he had every right to.

What the fuck is he doing?

Theodore’s mind raced, panic flooding through him in an instant. He hadn’t planned this. He hadn’t prepared for this. His fingers tightened around the cigarette, and his pulse quickened as he tried to steady his breath. His thoughts crashed against each other, the sharp throb of confusion making him dizzy.

He didn’t know why it hit him like this. Adrien never approached him like this—never. Not without purpose. Not without making some fucking joke or saying something sarcastic. And now—

Is he coming to confront me? To mock me?

Theodore’s chest tightened at the thought. No. No, that can’t be it. He wouldn’t... would he?

His heart pounded in his ears as he fought the urge to stand up, to run, to hide, to do anything but stay frozen in place. Adrien was still coming closer. Still making his way to him with that effortless stride, like he had all the time in the world.

What the hell does he want?

Theodore’s mind screamed at him to stay calm, but the tension in his body was unbearable. He wasn’t hidden anymore. He couldn’t hide anymore.

And the worst part?

He wasn’t ready for any of it. Not for this moment. Not for whatever Adrien was going to throw at him next. The weight of everything he had been avoiding crashed down on him, and in that moment, all he could think was one thing: I’m not ready.

The frenchman stopped just short of Theodore, standing for a moment as if assessing the space between them. Theodore’s stomach twisted, every instinct telling him to look away, to say something, to do anything but sit there in silence.

Adrien didn’t seem to mind the quiet. With a casual flick of his wrist, he pulled a fresh pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket and glanced at Theodore. “You got a light?”

Theodore hesitated, fingers hovering over his own lighter in his pocket - scratching at the engraving. The boy was giving him the most horrid once over - as if judging the sham-confidence that he was trying so hard to convince himself was real. He considered not handing over the lighter—to not say anything at all. But Adrien wasn’t waiting for permission, just standing there, waiting for Theodore to respond.

Finally, Theodore pulled the lighter from his pocket and handed it over. Adrien took it without a word, lighting the cigarette he was balancing between his teeth. As the flame flickered out, he sank down on the bench next to him, taking a deep inhale of the cigarette. He glanced down at the lighter and raised an eyebrow.

“Teo?” Adrien said, his tone teasing, yet genuinely curious. He turned it over in his fingers, inspecting the engraving. “Someone special gave this to you?”

Theodore’s chest tightened. He didn’t answer, couldn’t. The air felt thick, heavy, with Adrien just sitting there— just a a meter away, eyes flicking between him and the lighter, like he knew exactly how to get under Theodore’s skin. He took a drag from his cigarette, exhaling slowly.

“So,” Adrien said after a moment, the word hanging between them like a challenge. “What is it that you think I’ve done?”

Theodore’s heart skipped a beat. His instincts screamed at him to push back, to protect whatever was left of his pride, but he stayed silent. Adrien’s eyes never left him, his smirk widening.

“You’ve been staring at me like you’re planning my funeral. Is it that bad?” Adrien said casually, taking another drag from his cigarette.

Theodore’s grip tightened around his near-dead cigarette, the ember flaring with his barely restrained irritation. He should say something, anything, but the words were caught in his throat.

Adrien, sensing the tension, continued to poke at him. “Well whatever, it is, it must be bad enough that you've spent the last 3 heures burning holes into my head.”

Theodore’s jaw clenched. He wanted to fight back, to get under Adrien’s skin the way he was doing to him, but the silence between them felt like a trap. Adrien was waiting for something. A reaction. A slip-up. He was playing this game, and Theodore was losing.

The weight of it pressed against his ribs, coiling tight around his lungs, making every breath feel too shallow. The courtyard stretched vast and open around them, but the air between them was thick—choking, stagnant. Something waiting to snap.

A shift of movement. The subtle inhale of someone who had already made up their mind.

Adrien exhaled first. A slow breath through his nose, smoke curling from his lips before he flicked what remained of his cigarette to the ground. The ember sizzled faintly against damp stone, dimming instantly, disappearing.

He didn’t leave.

Instead, he lingered, rolling his shoulders back before tilting his head just slightly—casual, practiced ease masking something sharper beneath the surface.

"So." His voice was light, too light. A forced contrast against the weight pressing down on them. "What’s with the lurking?"

The silence that followed dragged.

It should have been broken by something natural—a scoff, a sigh, any acknowledgment that the words had even been spoken. But nothing came.

No response. No movement.

Just tension, settling deeper, embedding itself into every unspoken second.

Adrien’s fingers twitched. "You know," he continued, tone shifting toward something drier, "if you’re going to stand there and stare at me all night, you could at least pretend to have a reason."

Still, nothing.

Not a single flicker of acknowledgment, save for the way Theodore’s fingers tightened—so slightly it would have been easy to miss—at his sides.

The tell was small. But it was there.

Adrien hummed, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "Long day?"

A pause.

Theodore’s jaw clenched, a flicker of tension in his shoulders so brief it could have been imagined.

Not an answer. But not nothing, either.

The corner of Adrien’s mouth curled—not in amusement, not really. It was too exasperated for that, too dry. "Or are you just like this now?"

That got a reaction. A sharp inhale, controlled but still noticeable.

Like the comment had landed.

Like it had hit somewhere.

The silence that followed was different. Sharper.

Adrien exhaled, running a slow hand through his hair, the weight of his own patience wearing thin. "Right." He nodded to himself, voice dipping into something lower, something edged with something just slightly irritated. "You’re really gonna make me work for this, huh?"

Another pause. Another beat of nothingness stretching too long, stretching so far it started to feel personal.

Adrien didn’t miss the way Theodore’s gaze flickered—not toward him, never toward him—but past him, around him, away from him.

Avoiding.

Not engaging.

Something about that settled wrong in Adrien’s chest.

Because why was this his problem?

Why was he standing here, trying, when the weight of what had gone wrong between Theodore and her had nothing to do with him?

He hadn’t been the one to pull away. He hadn’t been the one to let her think, even for a second, that she wasn’t important enough to fight for.

And yet, somehow, he was the one standing in the cold, dragging words out of someone who clearly had no intention of speaking first.

His fingers twitched at his sides before curling into fists.

Yeah. No.

"Right. You know what?" A step back. A shake of the head. "I’m not doing this."

He turned, already done, already moving.

Then—

"Wait!"

The word came rough. Unsteady.

Like something had slipped before it could be swallowed down.

Adrien stopped.

For a moment, he didn’t turn back.

Didn’t move.

Just let the silence stretch impossibly thin, let the weight of the word sit between them, heavy and unmistakable.

Then, slowly, deliberately, he turned.

The silence stretched between them, thick with something neither of them wanted to name. Theodore shifted, his jaw clenching as he exhaled sharply, forcing himself to meet Adrien’s gaze. The Frenchman, still standing with his weight lazily shifted to one side, raised a brow, unimpressed.

Adrien let out a breath of laughter, though there was no real humor in it. "What? You gonna keep staring at me like I stole your inheritance, or do you actually have something to say?"

Theodore's fingers twitched at his sides. He wasn’t in the mood for games, but he couldn’t blame Adrien for being like this. Not really. He had spent weeks resenting him, watching him from afar, convincing himself that Adrien was the reason everything had changed. But now, standing here, with no one else to turn to, he found himself swallowing the words that burned in his throat before finally forcing them out.

"I want her to know that I've made the effort—that I've changed. But how do I make her see that?"

Adrien blinked. For a moment, his expression was unreadable. Then, a slow, exaggerated sigh left his lips, and he ran a hand down his face. "Oh, mon dieu," he muttered, shaking his head. "You cannot be serious. Is this really happening?"

Theodore’s hands clenched into fists. "Just answer the question."

Adrien gave him a long look, and for a second, Theodore thought he was going to walk away. But then, the amusement in Adrien’s eyes dimmed, something steadier settling in its place. He tilted his head slightly, assessing him.

"Why are you asking me?" Adrien asked, his voice quieter now, less sharp. "You must have learnt something in the how many years she's been pining after you."

Theodore swallowed hard. "I—"

Adrien cut in. "You’re just hoping I’ll say something that makes it easier for you, aren't you?"

"And what, let me guess," Adrien exhaled, crossing his arms. "You’ve finally realized you’ve been acting like a complete idiot, and now you’re desperate to fix things. But you don’t know how, and instead of figuring it out yourself, you’re here, asking me for some magic solution to make it all better." He exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. "Incroyable."

Theodore stiffened. He deserved that. He knew he did. But the weight in his chest didn’t ease.

Adrien watched him for another long moment, then sighed, his frustration fading just slightly. "You want an answer? Fine. Here’s the truth. You don’t just tell someone you care; you show them. It’s not about words— it’s not about grand apologies or empty promises. It’s about actions."

Theodore stayed silent, absorbing his words.

Adrien’s gaze sharpened. "And you’re not just competing with me. You’re competing with yourself. The version of you she remembers - apparantly the only one she knows. The version of you that made her feel like she wasn’t enough. She needs to see that you’ve changed, not because you’re scared of losing her, but because you want to be better—for her, yes, but also for yourself."

Theodore’s throat felt tight. He had spent so long convincing himself that the problem was Adrien, that it was about who she was spending time with now, that he had ignored the real issue: himself.

Adrien sighed, rolling his shoulders back. "Look, I don’t like you," he said bluntly. "Not after what you put her through. And honestly? I wasn’t sure what kind of person you were. I’ve heard things—seen the way you act. I figured you were just another pureblood Slytherin with nothing real to say. But…" He hesitated, then gave a small shrug. ""She cares about you. For some stupid reason, she does. And because of that, I have to at least try to believe you can be better. But if you don’t—if you mess this up again—I’ll make sure there’s no coming back from it. She means a lot to me, Nott. She’s important. And if you sorting your shit out means she’ll be happy, then fine, I’ll entertain this. But if you hurt her again? I’ll personally make sure you never get the chance to fix it.""

Theodore exhaled, the weight of it settling deep in his chest. "And how do I do that?"

Adrien smirked, though there was a sharp edge to it. "Alright, Nott, let’s break this down. What exactly have you done so far to show her you’ve changed?" He leaned his head back over the bench, waiting. "Go on. Impress me."

Theodore hesitated. "I… talked to Astoria. And Draco. And I—" He exhaled sharply, rubbing the back of his neck. "I bought her stuff— apology stuff to show her I thought of her too..."

Adrien let out a slow, dry laugh. "Oh, merveilleux. Let me guess—flowers? Jewelry? Maybe a book she already read three times over?" He clutched his chest dramatically. "Mon dieu, Nott, how could she possibly resist such a display of heartfelt remorse?"

Theodore sat there in silence.

He scoffed, shaking his head. "And you—really—thought that would fix everything? Just throw a bunch of gifts at her and hope she magically forgets how much you hurt her?" He let out a sharp, disbelieving laugh. "Brilliant plan, Nott. Truly inspired. Nothing says 'I understand my mistakes' quite like expensive shit."

Adrien exhaled sharply, rubbing his temple. "Tell me, did you even put any thought into it? Or did you just grab whatever looked fancy and hope it would do the talking for you? Because if you think that stacking a pile of presents in front of her like some pathetic shrine to your guilt is going to fix anything—mon dieu, you’re even more clueless than I thought."

Theodore clenched his jaw. "That’s not—"

Theodore looked away, his grip tightening at his sides. The worst part was that Adrien wasn’t wrong.

Adrien sighed, rubbing his temple. "You don’t buy forgiveness, Theodore. You don’t hand her a pile of gifts and expect her to believe you suddenly care. If anything, that just proves you don’t get it. If you want her to see you’ve changed, then you actually have to change." Not just panic and start running to everyone around her hoping they’ll do the work for you. You need to show her—through your actions, not just whatever self-pitying monologue you’ve got running in your head."

Theodore swallowed hard. "And how do I do that?"

Adrien’s smirk returned, but this time, it was less mocking. "Now that, mon ami, is the real question."

The sheets were too warm. Or maybe not warm enough. Every time you tried to settle, your thoughts seemed to slip between the covers with you, circling your mind like an endless, insomniac spiral. It had been like this for days. You rolled over for the fifth time, trying to bury your head in your pillow and ignore the feeling clawing at your chest—frustration, loneliness, the unrelenting ache of missing something you weren’t sure you could have anymore.

You turned again, staring at the shadows that crept along the stone walls of the dormitory, the faint glow of moonlight filtering through the tall windows. Sleep wasn’t coming. It hadn’t come in a while.

Your fingers, cold despite the warmth of your blankets, brushed over the edge of your nightgown. Barefoot, you swung your legs off the side of the bed, toes brushing the cool stone floor. The chill hit you like a breath of wind. You stood, the muscles in your legs stiff from lying still for too long, and tugged your cardigan tighter around your shoulders.

A quick glance around the room showed no one else awake. Of course, no one else would be—most of the Gryffindors could sleep through anything. But you weren’t like them. Not tonight.

You moved as quietly as possible, pulling your cardigan tighter, but your bare feet met the cold floor with every step, making you wince. You could feel the stone floor beneath your feet, rough and unforgiving, as if each step was a reminder of how disconnected you felt, how off-balance everything seemed lately. The distance between you and the others felt wider with each step you took. Even the castle seemed cold and distant.

Your thoughts circled back to him—Theodore. Even now, after all that had happened, he was still a presence in the back of your mind, unwanted and persistent, like the cold drafts you could never seem to escape. You weren’t ready for anything between you two, not yet, not with all the unsaid things and the space that had grown between you.

Your footsteps echoed softly through the empty halls as you navigated the winding corridors of the castle, your breath a faint mist in the cold air. The walk, though short, seemed to take forever. You had been making this journey for days now, finding solace in the familiar warmth of the kitchens, a place where time seemed to slow down and the usual chaos of Hogwarts didn’t quite reach you. It was just you, and the promise of something warm—something comforting that didn’t require explanation.

The flickering torchlight on the walls illuminated your path, but the shadows of the corridors seemed to stretch endlessly in front of you, like the miles of unspoken words and unfinished conversations between you and Theodore. The thought of him made your stomach churn in the quiet stillness of the castle, but still, you walked. You had to.

When you reached the kitchens, the door creaked as you nudged it open, the sound sharper in the silence of the night. The faint smell of baked goods lingered in the air, mixed with the faint scent of warm milk, a comfort that almost made you forget why you’d come. You stepped in, the door falling gently closed behind you, and your eyes immediately sought the familiar space—the cupboards lined with ingredients, the shelves stacked with cookbooks, the little stove in the corner that you’d grown to love over the years.

Then you froze.

There, standing over the counter, was Theodore.

At first, you thought you’d imagined him, the shadows playing tricks on your eyes, but no, there he was. Theodore, his hair slightly messy from sleep, his eyes bloodshot, and an array of failed attempts strewn across the counter in front of him. Empty mugs sat in a sad pile, some clearly broken, others just abandoned, alongside half-opened packets of hot chocolate powder and bits of chocolate bars that had already started to melt.

Your heart skipped a beat, a strange, sudden mixture of anger and confusion tightening in your chest. Of all places, here. You weren’t sure if you wanted to run or stay. Maybe both. Your feet felt rooted to the spot, cold stone against bare skin, the weight of the situation too much to bear.

You blinked, suddenly self-conscious of your bare feet, the cold air seeping through the thin fabric of your nightgown. Your mind was racing—what was he doing here? Why tonight, of all nights? And why this?

Theodore froze at the sound of your steps, his hands hovering over the mess. He stepped back, raising his hands in a motion you knew all too well. “I—I wasn’t trying to invade your personal space or anything,” he muttered quickly, glancing over at you with wide eyes. “I just... well, I know how much you like hot chocolate, and I thought I could... I mean, if you want, I can leave, but I wasn’t trying to—” He trailed off, looking flustered.

The words hit you like a cold wave, leaving a strange, hollow ache in their wake. His presence here, in this moment, felt like an intrusion. You hadn’t asked for this. You hadn’t asked for him to come and try to fix things when there were still so many pieces of the puzzle missing, so many things left unsaid.

Your heart thudded in your chest, your wariness a familiar weight in your stomach. You didn’t respond immediately, unsure how to handle his sudden presence—especially given the quiet, unresolved tension between you. You didn’t want to talk about it. Not now, not here. You weren’t sure if you were ready for any of it.

Theodore took another step back, as if to give you space, but his eyes flickered to the counter. “I—I didn’t mean to make a mess. It’s just, well... I’ve never made hot chocolate quite like this before, apparently.” His voice was almost sheepish, as if embarrassed by the sight of all the failed attempts. The mess on the counter felt like a metaphor for everything that had happened between you two—disastrous, messy, and something neither of you knew how to fix.

Your eyes fell on the spilled milk, the chocolate that was now a mess on the counter, the empty mugs—each a reminder of how much he was trying. For a moment, you were torn between the nagging frustration that you still felt for him and the sudden realization that this, this, was a side of him you hadn’t expected to see. And despite yourself, you felt a small crack in the wall you’d built around yourself.

Theodore sighed, rubbing a hand through his messy hair. “I’m not trying to make things weird. Really. I just... I wanted to make it right.” He glanced at you again, his voice softer now. “You’ve been having a lot of... sleepless nights, haven’t you? I thought you might like this.”

For a second, there was a pause. The words hung between you like a fragile thread, neither of you willing to break the silence. The warmth in his voice didn’t match the cold in your chest, but it did something to you—softened the edges just enough for you to acknowledge how much you missed this. Missed him. But you couldn’t let that show. Not yet.

And in that silence, it almost felt like you were both standing in a space that didn’t quite belong to either of you, a place full of warmth, but also memories that were still too fresh.

You stared at Theodore, uncertainty gnawing at you. The kitchen was quiet again, save for the small sounds of his failed attempts, the clink of mugs and the soft, almost imperceptible hiss of milk being heated for another round. The awkwardness of the moment threatened to swallow you, and yet, there was something in his eyes—something familiar—that made you hesitate before retreating.

Finally, you asked, your voice low but sharp. "What are you doing here?"

Theodore blinked, momentarily caught off guard. He looked up, almost embarrassed, and fumbled with the mess on the counter. "Making hot chocolate," he said with a little shrug, like the answer should be obvious.

You shook your head, stepping closer, arms crossed over your chest. You weren’t going to let this go. "Theodore, why are you here?"

For a moment, Theodore just stood there, staring at the ingredients strewn across the counter. He seemed to lose himself in the mess, eyes flicking to the various packets of powder, the chocolate bars, the spilled milk. And then, as though pulled from some deep place within him, his voice was quieter when he spoke again, but no less meaningful. "You used to call me Teo," he said, almost to himself, as if the words were a soft confession.

You felt your chest tighten at the sound of the nickname, the one that had always seemed to carry weight with it. Teo. It was the name you’d whispered to him in a thousand different contexts: while studying, while making coffee, while talking about anything and everything. It had always been a small, simple thing, but hearing it now, in the thick of all this silence, made your heart feel heavy.

"Used to," you said quietly, your voice betraying the fragility you were trying to hide. "But that was a long time ago. It doesn’t—" You stopped yourself, unsure of what you wanted to say. It didn’t matter, but it did. You didn’t know how to untangle your feelings.

Theodore was standing still now, and his gaze was steady, meeting yours. The apology hadn’t come yet, but the way he looked at you made it clear he knew he owed one.

“I thought... I thought I could fix it,” he continued, the words spilling out now like he couldn’t hold them in any longer. "You remember fifth year? When you’d make me hot chocolate while we were studying for hours? You always insisted on putting all that extra sugar in it—whipped cream, marshmallows, the whole thing. I hated how sweet it was, but it was just... the way you made it, you know?" He chuckled softly, but the sound was laced with a touch of bitterness. "And I never had the heart to tell you. I just—well, I’d drink it anyway because you were the one making it. It just... felt like something we did together. Even if it was stupid and small, it was... something."

His voice faltered for a moment, and you could see him struggling to collect his thoughts, the words piling up in his mind. He shook his head as if trying to make sense of the mess, but nothing came out right.

"I guess," he continued, his tone quieter now, more serious, "I thought if I could do something like that again—if I could make you hot chocolate—maybe it would mean something. Maybe it would be enough for you to understand that I... I didn’t mean to mess things up. I know I did. I know I did. But I thought, at least... this... this would be a way to show you that I’m sorry. I don’t know. I just... I couldn’t think of anything else."

The words hung in the air, thick with all the things he hadn’t said, all the things you both had buried under silence and time. His hands hovered over the spilled milk, and for a moment, he seemed lost, his expression tense. You could tell he was trying, but there was no easy way out of this. No easy apology.

“I never thought I’d end up like this,” he continued, his voice thickening. "I know this doesn’t make up for what happened. It doesn’t fix anything. But... I thought, if I could at least do this—if I could make the hot chocolate you always made for me—that maybe it would be enough. At least... at least it would show you that I care."

There was so much emotion in his words—so much regret, so much rawness—that it made you want to look away, but you couldn’t. Your chest tightened, and the lump in your throat grew, because you didn’t know what to feel anymore. You wanted to tell him it wasn’t enough. That it couldn’t be fixed with something so small. But you were frozen, unsure of how to say it without everything else falling apart.

Finally, you spoke, your voice shaky, betraying the turmoil inside. "It’s not enough," you whispered. "Hot chocolate... doesn’t fix everything, Theodore."

He nodded, his eyes flicking down to the counter, avoiding your gaze. "I know," he said quietly. "I know. I just... I wanted to try."

The silence stretched between you both, thick and heavy, but not entirely unpleasant. The words weren’t enough, not yet, but maybe there was a chance now. Maybe, just maybe, this could be the start of something different.

The silence between you both felt different now. It wasn’t the oppressive silence of anger, but something quieter, more fragile. The air between you was thick, as though you could almost reach out and touch the distance that had always been there, but never this much. You could hear the soft hiss of milk heating on the stove, the clink of Theodore’s spoon stirring his latest attempt at hot chocolate—sounds that should have felt comforting, familiar, but instead, they only made the room feel colder.

You wanted to break the silence. You needed to. But the words felt stuck somewhere deep inside you, tangled in all the hurt and frustration you’d been carrying for so long. You had no idea how to untangle it all. It was easier to stay silent. Easier to keep your distance.

Your eyes stayed focused on the floor, avoiding his. Because if you looked at him, even for a second, you weren’t sure what you’d do. You could feel the anger still simmering beneath your skin, but there was something else, too. Something you couldn’t name. The ache in your chest grew heavier, but you couldn’t let yourself give in. Not yet.

For a moment, you just stood there, your arms still crossed, trying to gather the strength to speak. Finally, you let out a shaky breath. "I’m not saying it’s fine. It’s... it’s not. What you did... it really hurt, Theodore." The words felt like they came from someone else, but you knew they needed to be said. "I don’t forget things like that. It still hurts."

You could hear Theodore’s breath hitch in the quiet, and you knew he could feel every word in the depths of his gut. You didn’t want to hurt him, but the truth was, you were still hurting, too.

He stayed still, his eyes fixed on you, like he was afraid that if he moved or spoke, he’d make things worse. His mouth opened, then closed, like he couldn’t quite figure out what to say next. You didn’t give him a chance to respond. You couldn’t bear to hear another apology that felt empty.

You didn’t want to admit it, but the weight of everything you'd been holding back felt too much to ignore anymore. “I don’t forget things like that,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper, but heavy with the truth of it. “I don’t forget how easily you pulled away, how much it hurt when you didn’t seem to care about me at all. I didn’t expect it to be so easy for you to just move on.” Your throat tightened with the bitterness you couldn’t quite swallow, and you hated how raw you sounded, but it was too late to take it back. “I didn’t think you would just... leave me like that."

 "But, Theodore..."

The moment hung there, suspended in time, and you felt the rawness of everything you’d been holding inside finally bubble to the surface. You didn’t know if you could fully forgive him yet, but you weren’t sure you wanted to close the door on this... whatever it was.

You exhaled slowly, as if each breath took a little more of your resolve with it. "I don’t know what you expect me to say,” you murmured, your voice softer now, but still carrying the weight of everything you couldn’t say before. “It’s not just about the words you’ve said or the things you’ve done... it’s more than that. You can’t just make a grand gesture and think it’ll fix everything." You shifted your weight, suddenly unsure of how to make the rest of it come out right. "I... I need to see that this is something you actually care about. Not just in one moment, but over time. You’ve got to show me you can do more than apologize."

Your throat tightened as you struggled to keep yourself steady. "I don’t know if I’m ready to just... forget everything. Maybe I’ll get there, but not right now. I need to see if you really mean it... and I need more than just words."

You closed your eyes for a moment, your heart hammering in your chest, the silence wrapping around you like a second skin. It was terrifying. Letting yourself feel all this again. Letting him see the parts of you that you’d buried for so long. But you could see it in his eyes—he wasn’t just apologizing to make it easier. He was really trying.

"I’m willing to let you try," you whispered, your voice trembling slightly. "But if you leave me down again..."

Theodore was still. His entire body was taut, like he was waiting for something—your rejection, maybe. But when he spoke, his voice was steady, even if his words were tinged with an emotion you couldn’t quite place. "I won’t," he said, his gaze locking with yours. "I won’t let you down again. I promise. I... I’ll show you, every day—I’m serious about this."

Your breath caught in your throat. It wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t enough yet. But there was something real in the way he spoke, a sincerity you hadn’t seen in him for so long. And for the first time in a long time, you let yourself believe him, even just a little.

Theodore took a step toward you, but he hesitated, like he wasn’t sure if it was okay to move closer. He opened his mouth to speak again, his voice low. "I’m guessing... you’re still not going to tell me how to make the hot chocolate, are you?"

It was the first time in hours that you let a smile slip through. It was small, but it was real—an actual smile, not one you’d forced. "You’ve got to figure that part out on your own, Teo."

He laughed softly, the sound filled with relief and something lighter than the tension that had been hanging between you both. And in that laugh, you could hear the promise. Not that everything would go back to the way it was, but that maybe, just maybe, there was a chance for something new. Something different.

You didn’t have all the answers, and neither did he. But for the first time in a long while, you felt like you didn’t have to do this alone. And that was enough to let you take the first step, even if you weren’t sure what would come next.

[ravenclaws-stuff]

Theodore Nott x reader

Tags: hurt/comfort, hurt in this part, established relationship, Theo makes a pros and cons list of dating you, reader avoids Theo like the Filch avoids a bath, reader is not in Slytherin

A/n: Never really wrote something this angsty before so please let me know if you like it

Part Two

Pros and Cons part one

I sigh, falling onto the bed. The aroma of ash and cedar floats around me. He is late. Theo was supposed to meet me in his dorm to study yet he is late. Theo and I have been dating for three months. I couldn’t believe it when he asked me out. I mean Theo is cold and shut off from the world except his small group of friends.

Fate introduced us, well in the shape of Slughorn. The potion’s professor assigned us as partners. First, he didn’t talk. Only answered in grunts and hums. Over time, he would chuckle at my remarks or correct me throughout our potions. We would study together in the library or the courtyard if I could convince him that he needed sunshine. Eventually, it evolved to late night talks in the astronomy tower where he asked me out.

Standing up, I look around the dorm. Not much in here. No personal touches. Books stacked neatly on his desk. I run my fingers along the desk, smiling to myself. No dirt. Theo is such a neat freak. My brow furrows as I spot a wad of paper sticking out from under the desk. I bend down to pick it up. Its probably just an old sheet of homework. I unfold it, my heart lodging in my throat as I read the words.

Pros and cons of Dating Y/n

Pros

Beautiful, so beautiful it hurt look at times

Smartm freakishly smart

Fantastic sense of humor

Kind, tutors the younger students

Loves to eat, I can't wait to cook her Nana’s special recipe

Never shies away from me

Cons

Different house

Sometimes too bubbly

Bossy

Wants a real relationship

The paper falls from my fingers, floating to the ground. Tears that I tried so hard to fight fall down my cheeks. I take an unsteady step back, shaking my head. Out. I need out. The door slams shut behind me. A real relationship? Is that not what he wants.

I managed to avoid Theo for three days before he cornered me. Well pulled me into an abandoned classroom. “Why are you avoiding me?” Theo asks, voice laced with exhaustion. The dark spots under his eyes tell me he hasn’t been getting any sleep. “I don’t know-” Theo shakes his head. “Please do not insult either of our intelligence by acting like you have no clue what I am talking about.” I gulp, walking around to sit on a dusty desk. “Amore please tell me what's wrong?” I shake my head, tears forming at the nickname. “Please?” Theo whispers, kneeling in front of me.

“I found the list you made.” Theo fliches as if I had slapped him. “W-what list?” The tears blur my vision as I will them not to fall. “The pros and cons list of dating me.”

The air between the two of us tense. “Amore please let me explain.” The sadness I have felt for the last three days turn into red hot anger. I laugh dryly. “What is there to explain? You had to make a list about me in order to figure out if you wanted to date me.” I stand up, crossing the room. I needed space from Theo. “Amore please you have to understand I was scared, terrified really. You make me feel things I have never felt before. Its not an excuse though. I should have never done it.” Theo says, standing off the ground. “Why did you?” I ask, hating how small my voice sounded. “I was so nervous about the way you made me feel. So Draco and Blaise suggested to make a list. A list of reason on what I like about you. Pansy told me it was a stupid idea.” I nod, my frown deepening. “What about wanting a real relationship? That was on the con list.” Theo tenses before before taking a step forward. “I’ve never done this before. Wasn't sure if I could handle a real relationship.” I glare at him, throwing my hands up in the air. “You asked me out remember. I am not forcing you.” Theo sighs, rubbing the crease in between his eyebrows. “Thats- that's not what I meant.” He takes another forward. “I want a relationship with you. I want this.” He says, pointing at the space between us. I nod, wiping my cheeks. “So do I but I need space. That list hurt me. You put my insecurities on a sheet a paper to not date me. Just, i'm sorry Theodore.” I say, rushing out of the classroom without sparing Theo a second glance. The sound of desks being shoved brings another round of tears to my eyes. “Fuck!” Theo roars from the classroom.

What do I do now?

[fushigurosluvr]

hi love! can i request a theo x reader something like ‘the moment i knew’ by taylor swift! pretty please with a cherry on top!

hi sweetpea! i love this request, thankyou for asking. i hope i can do it justice! i took a very different turn than i planned to, but i still hope you like it🥰

THE MOMENT I KNEW // THEODORE NOTT X FEM!READER

“i say hopelessly, ‘he said he’d be here.’”

playlist: the moment i knew - taylor swift

summary: in which reader loves her birthday, and theo makes empty promises.

warnings: bad language, angst, hurt/comfort, out of character slytherin group, established relationship.

your birthday had always been your favourite day of the year. you figured it was better than christmas. you loved the season it was in, how pretty the date looked on paper, and you loved the way theo always paid close attention to exactly what you wanted. you weren’t fussy by any means, just particular. you liked a select few people, but your birthday party was always a big bash, the whole of slytherin was always invited. theo made sure you were the centre of attention for everyone.

until he didn’t.

you lay on your bed, anxiously picking at the new colour on your nails, eyes darting back and forth following pansy’s figure. you were already an hour late for your own party, still deciding what to wear. you’d already picked an outfit, but pansy decided it simply wasn’t good enough. it was your seventeenth, you could finally use magic outside of school. this one needed to be special.

“i found it! this one is perfect.” she pulled out a simple yet elegant party dress, holding it up to your body as you lay on the bed, arms by your sides. “right. up you get, put the dress on, and we’re off.” you sighed in relief, quickly slipping on the dress, leaving your legs bare and tugging on a pair of heels she’d sprung from nowhere. “i love it. and so will theo. i bet he’s wondering where you are, you’re never late for your party.”

you hummed in response, touching up the red lipstick you adorned and linking your arm in pansy’s. you grinned as cheers erupted from the common room, the boys running up to you with smiles on their faces. “happy birthday, love.” enzo placed a sloppy kiss on your cheek, clearly having taken advantage of your absence for an hour. mattheo offered a hand, guiding you down the rest of the steps while draco fawned over pansy. “you look gorgeous. don’t tell theo i said that. he might curse me.” blaise’s eyes were wide and you let out a chuckle, eyes darting around the room.

“where is he?” your brows were furrowed, scanning the room in search of your boyfriend. “he’s not here yet…” you frowned, before snapping yourself out of it, bringing a smile to your lips. you were the birthday girl, after all. and appearances were everything. “i’m sure he’ll turn up, sweetheart.” mattheo sent a sympathetic smile in your direction, his eyes already hazy. you nodded, grabbing the drink out of his hand and tipping it down your throat with a wince.

you danced to the music for what seemed like hours, allowing yourself to be passed between the boys as a dance partner, and letting them fuel you up with more alcohol. this was a special birthday, and they’d be damned if you didn’t have a good time. you were constantly bombarded with questions on theo’s whereabouts, and it took everything in you not to cry.

he said he’d be here.

before long, you were staged in the middle of the room, pansy’s dainty hands clapped over your eyes. you heard the soft start of a strained happy birthday song, before pansy peeled her hands away, allowing you to look at the cake that blaise held tightly in his hands.

theo still wasn’t there.

it had gotten late in the night, and students began to leave, giving small goodbyes and stumbling their way to their dorms, until it was just your friends left. “thank you for a truly wonderful birthday, guys. i don’t know what i’d do without you.” they could all see the tears forming in your eyes, sympathetic smiles bombarding your vision. “i think i just need to be alone for a moment.” you excused yourself, bounding up the stairs before the tears could fall.

you fell to your bed, broken sobs escaping your lips. you heard the shuffles of many pairs of feet, listening as they stopped outside your door. hushed whispers that weren���t so hushed. “do you think we should go in?” you heard a faint slap, and a small cry. “no, you toad! he’s spoiled her favourite day. he’ll be lucky i don’t fucking curse him.”

speak of the devil, and he shall appear.

theo walked up the stairs, bleary eyed and heavy, coming to a stop as he saw the huddle of his friends outside your dorm. “what the fuck are you playing at?” as much as mattheo wanted to shout, he kept his voice level, eyes menacing as he glared at the brunette boy. “what?” it was only then that theo took notice of everyone’s appearance. party clothes. “fuck!” he ran his hands through his hair, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“i fucking forgot. cara mia? i’m sorry. can you let me in?” blaise and mattheo stood firmly at the door, arms crossed over their chests. this wasn’t intimidating to theo, but pansy’s glare was. “you’re a fucking arsehole, theodore. the one day a year she asks for.” she threw her hands up, storming off with draco in tow.

“let me talk to her.” the boy tried to move towards the door, being pushed back by blaise’s hand on his chest. “let her calm down, mate. she’s heartbroken.” theo sighed in frustration, hand coming forward to knock on the door. “amore, please let me in. i can explain.”

you shuffled to the door, opening it a small amount. you stood there in your pyjamas, makeup smeared across your tear stained cheeks. “it’s okay, matty. let him in.” you placed a soft hand on mattheo’s shoulder, and he smiled sympathetically down at you. he huffed at theo, but nonetheless stepped aside to allow him in the room.

“we’ll stay out here in case you need us, yeah?” if you couldn’t count on your boyfriend, at least you knew you could count on his friends. you closed the door behind you and allowed theo to take in your appearance. your cheeks were covered in tears and mascara, red lipstick smudged across your lips and your hair dishevelled.

“i’m sorry, tesoro. i was with my father, and i completely forgot what today was. it’s been a rough week.” you scoffed, shoving past him to sit on your bed, facing away from him. “it’s not good enough, theo. you said you’d be here. you lied. i spent three fucking hours getting ready, and i had no one there to impress.”

theo ran his hands through his hair again, another frustrated huff leaving his chapped lips. “was it a good party?” your eyes were fixed on him, narrowed. if looks could kill, theo would be dead before he hit the ground. “no thanks to you. your friends had to keep me distracted so i couldn’t think about how my own boyfriend didn’t show up!”

“i’m sorry, piccola. my father-” you tensed up at the mention of the man. you knew how theo loathed his father. maybe even more than you loathed your own. there was a special place in azkaban reserved for him. “i need to show you something. i promise, this is not an excuse for missing your birthday. but please, i’m begging you, amore, don’t be mad.” your heart was pounding in your chest, palms becoming sweaty.

he pulled the sleeve of his shirt up, coming closer to you. he’d invaded your space, the smell of his aftershave surrounding you. you gasped as he turned his arm, watching the way the snake danced across his skin. “teddy…” tears threatened to fall again. the guilt was beginning to creep in. you knew theo wouldn’t miss your birthday for anything short of his own death, but you had been blinded by sadness.

“no, no, tesoro, don’t cry. va bene. tutto andrà bene.” you shook your head, hands grasping at his shirt. you knew mattheo had the dark mark, he was practically given it at birth, but you’d never expected theo’s father to be so evil. “you’re a deatheater, teddy. you-you’re going to have to do horrendous things.”

you knew all about the inner workings of the dark lord’s army, your father had been apart of it for years, and mattheo had been in your dorm crying into your shoulder about the things he’d witnessed. “baby, nothing will happen. we’ll be alright. i’ve got mattheo, okay? we will take care of each other.”

“how will i take care of you now?” you had begun pacing, theo’s hands coming out to grasp your waist, pulling you into his chest with a soothing hand on the back of your head. “i’m supposed to take care of you, cara mia. you are my life.”

“i’ll get one too. you cant face this alone, teddy. we said we’d be with each other through everything. this is everything.” you were mumbling into his chest but he understood every word. he stood back, hands coming up to cup your jaw, eyes poring into your own.

“no. look at me. you are not doing this.” you pushed his hands away, moving yours to grab his jaw now. “yes i am. all i have to do is ask, theo. you know my father’s itching to have me join the dark army. i said i was in this for better or for worse.” theodore knew better than to argue with you. even if you did agree to listen to him, you were cunning enough to take matters into your own hands. either way, your skin would be tainted. either by the dark lord’s hands, or his own. he was fearful. you were the light at the end of the tunnel, but you would always choose to follow him into the darkness.

“forever and always, cara mia.”

“forever and always, teddy.”

[dylansfavwife]

୨ৎ theodore nott x fem!reader

୨ৎ summary : when you haven’t been feeling too well but theo’s there to comfort you

the loud hum of music did nothing to drown out your constant thoughts. you were consumed by meaningless worries as you overthought any interaction you’ve had your entire life.

with a sigh you turned to lay on your other side. and then switched sides again, still lacking any comfort in which your bed would normally bring. it was there to wrap you in warmth as you lost yourself in sleep and daydreams but instead you were trapped in a nightmare of your own thoughts.

your life was great. you had friends who you cared for deeply and your studies were going well which is why you couldn’t understand this feeling itching away at you. it was burning you up from the inside but you didn’t know why you felt like this.

you had no reason to be upset yet the feeling stayed persistent no matter how much you tried to shut it down. something was wrong, you just wished you knew what it was.

this feeling had been creeping behind you for weeks, weighing you down as you tried to carry out your daily tasks. it felt exhausting as you held a smile and laughed with your friends before spending the night tossing and turning.

you heard a knock on the door, your eyebrows scrunched in confusion. it wasn’t too late in the afternoon and none of your friends had yet to return to the solace of the dorm. then you heard it again, rapid knocks and back and forth pacing.

“please, open the door”, you froze hearing theodore’s voice. it sent a familiar comfort to you as you realised how long it had been since you two have had a proper conversation. it wasn’t like you were purposely ignoring him, but when you felt yourself being wrapped in constant anxiety and frustration, you had instinctively pulled away from those you were closest too, not wanting them to know how lost you’d been feeling.

“i know your there, i mi- i wanna talk and see how your doing, please open the door” theodore sounded desperate as he rushed his words out, his tone snapping you back into reality as you quickly got up, and unlocked the door.

you sighed preparing yourself for a lecture but were surprised to see theo in a huge mess, his hair was unkept from constantly brushing his hands through it, his eye bags were prominent and shade of purple and his eyes were instantly searching you with visible concern.

then something even more unexpected happened. you felt him pull you into a tight embrace. you were still for a moment, shocked, knowing how much he despised hugs.

quickly though, you found yourself wrapping your arms around his neck as you allowed yourself to hide away from your own feelings and drape yourself in the comfort he gave you. his rough hands were gently wrapped around your waist as his thumb mindlessly grazed your skin back and forth, the small touch grounding you.

much too soon you both were pulling away and you felt amused noticing the embarrassed look on his face, unsure how to act after that simple act of gentleness because you both knew it meant more than you’d admit.

you moved to sit down on your bed as theo looked you over curiously, “are you okay?” he asked, sitting down beside you.

you forced a smile on your face as you replied, “of course i’m fine!” he eyed you skeptically, not believing your words.

“you’ve been acting really off and i want you to know you can talk to me” he admitted, his voice so soft in a way you’d never heard before, he was looking at you so desperately wanting to make sure you were okay that it pulled at your heartstrings.

you sighed knowing that theo has always been there for you and there isn’t a single thing you can’t tell him. “i- i’m not even sure what’s going on, everything just feels so weird and i can’t stop feeling upset all the time” the words started falling out your mouth as you spilled in slurred sentences how you had been feeling recently.

you hadn’t even noticed that tears has began to fall till theodore’s thumb was wiping them away, so gently. once you’d finished your rambling you met his eyes which were looking at you so intensely, his relaxing deep caramel eyes that made you feel so protected like no bad thoughts could get you while he was here.

he leaned in and left a delicate kiss to your forehead whispering “i’m here always” over and over, till you really believed that no matter what happens he’s always going to be there to protect and comfort you. just that thought alone was enough to make you smile.

“next time you better tell me that you’re feeling like this so i can be there for you”. you nodded instantly “i promise”

he smiled knowing you would as he pulled you in his embrace once more. the smell of pine trees and other earthy scents was inviting as it flooded your senses, leaving you feeling serene.

you knew the pain would come back but felt soothed knowing that theo would be there to help ease your thoughts and care for you when you ached.

a.n : i wish i had a theo fr, i forgot how much i love writing fluff

[ravenclaws-stuff]

Theodore Nott x reader

Tags: hurt/comfort, comfort in this part, established relationship, Theo makes a pros and cons list of dating you, reader avoids Theo like the Filch avoids a bath, reader is not in Slytherin, Pansy is a great friend

Pros and Cons part two

A week has passed since Theo and I last spoke. A week of silence, awkward glances, and terrible loneliness. All my friends have repeatedly questioned what happened but I just wave them off. The only person I found solace in was Pansy Parkinson. 

The day after our fight, Pansy pulled me to the side and informed me that no matter what, she was on my side along with the other Slytherin girls. Pansy even went as far as ignoring the boys, including her boyfriend, Draco. Said they knew about it and encouraged the bloody list so they are just as guilty as Theodore.

Walking down the hallway, I make my way to the courtyard, where I was supposed to meet Pansy, Daphne, and Millicent. Daphne mentioned something about planning our next Hogseade trip. A hand reaches out, pulling me into an empty classroom. 

“Theo!” I screech, smacking his chest. “You scared the bloody hell out of me.” Theo has the audacity to smile down at me with that stupidly handsome smile of his and chuckle. His hands fall from my arms as he remembers himself and takes a step back. “Sorry.” I nod, looking away from his eyes. “So?” I whispers, unsure why he pulled me into here. Theo sighs, running a hand through his hair.

“No more of this. No more running. Yes, making that list was shitty of me. But you have to understand, you are terrifying.” My jaw drops from the sheer shock of Theo. His curls sticking everywhere from running his finger through them and the dark circles under his eyes.

“I knew if I dove head first in this with you, that would be it. You would be the love that consumes me. I could never find anything like it or you again. So please, Amore, forgive me.”

Tears run down my cheeks as I nod. “Theo I am so sorry it took me so long. I was a coward. I wanted to talk to you right after I walked away. My thoughts led me astray. W-what if you changed your mind?” His hands cup my cheeks so gently it was as if he thought I would crumble under his touch. “I could never change my mind about you, ragazza sciocca. Truly, you are the best thing to ever happen to me. I..I love you.” 

My eyes widen as my hands tighten around his bicep. Closing the distance between us, our lips brush against one another.

“I love you too.”

“I was supposed to meet up with the girls.” I whisper, resting my head on his bare chest. After probably the best kiss in my life, Theo and I went back to his dorm. Theo presses a kiss to my temple, fingers drawing circles on my back. “No um that was ploy for me to catch you. You, my beautiful girl, have been rather elusive this week.”

Heat creeps up my neck. “S-sorry.” Another kiss this time placed right behind my ear. “Never apologise for something that was my own fault.”

I sit up, remembering something I had in my pocket for Theo. “Oh I have something for you. Been in my pocket all week.” Theo chuckles as I bend over, reaching for my pants. “What is this?” He questions as I hand a piece of paper. I simply shrug. “Open it and you’ll find out.” 

 Pros and Cons of Dating Theodore Nott

Pros

Sexy as hell

Loves to cook for me

Loves me (I think)

An accent that can make me swoon

The most gorgeous set of eyes

Cons

Makes a pro/con list about dating you

Tag list: @aceofspades190

[that1notetaker]

@jundsthoughts @wixenforever I ended up deleting the second chapter of The Garden (The snake fic) because for some reason it? Didnt appear in the ao3 tags? However! I saved both your comments, and decided to extend the chapter a bit while I was at it. Have a sneak peak, it helps me not lose motivation during the process. It needs to be out of the solitude of my brains.

Even without context, does it read well?

[rose-of-the-grave]

The Great War: Chapter 7

Pairing: Mattheo Riddle x Reader

Hey everyone, it's a longer one but I hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it in what free time I had! Also Merry early Christmas!!! Chapter 8 is already in progress and should be out soon! Sidenote: TGW is over 20k omg!!!!! As always I'm the author (please don't repost) <3

Masterlist. Series Masterlist. Read on Ao3

Warnings: magic paintball, Ron and Lavender, quidditch, trash talk/teasing, nerves, sad Hermione, hurt/comfort, fluff, Filch, Mattheo and Pansy are bffs

Word Count: 4330

Description: While her friends are busy Y/N gets into some mischief with her Slytherin friends. She, along with the rest of their team absolutely crush the Slytherins in a game of Quidditch and she helps Hermione through her current dilemmas.

Taglist: @sylveryfire, @dundunmin, @undercover-smutlover, @whoreforfictionalmen18, @lafrone, @lovemiss-vale

It had only been a few minutes since Harry and Hermione had left for Slughorn’s dinner party and Y/N was already bored. Ron was off getting some extra practicing in with some other Quidditch players outside so she had been left alone. Figuring she would find Pansy somewhere, causing mischief, she grabbed her coat and wand before heading out.

The hallways were abuzz with students discussing their Christmas plans. She sighed thinking about how that used to be her. Planning a ski trip in the Alps or a beach vacation in the Bahamas. Her parents always made good use of her breaks. Now they were somewhere in the Middle East, hiding from Death Eaters. She shuddered to think what might happen to them. For all she knew, they could already be dead. It had already been two weeks since she last heard from them.

Her worries were distracted by a little golden fairy-like apparition beckoning her to enter the room ahead. Her hand gently pressed against the door, pushing it open to reveal a room the size of the Great Hall. The floor was covered in pedestals with encased trophies. Pictures of those people decorating the walls.

About twenty feet in front of her stood Pansy wearing her uniform minus the robe. Her hair pulled back and wand in hand. She turned and waved, “Hey! You came.”

“That was you? The little golden fairy thing?” She motioned her hand as if to demonstrate.

“It’s a new trick I learned.”

Y/N slowly nodded her head, walking over to where she stood. “So…what are you doing here?”

“Same thing as you. I was bored.” Pansy shook her head causing her earrings to jingle a bit. “I’m trying to find someone but I don’t think they're here.”

Y/N’s brow furrowed, “Who?”

The Slytherin opened her mouth but then her gaze shifted, her eyes having glimpsed a bit of movement. Bringing a finger to her mouth, she gave Y/N a stern look before peeking behind one of the trophy cases.

“Aha! Busted!” She chuckled, casting some spell that shot blue sparks that splattered on the person’s coat.

“Hey!” Riddle stood up from his hiding place, dusting off his pants. He walked over to the two of them, tossing his spell-splattered coat at Pansy.

“Ew!” She held it up by the collar. Wrinkling her nose, she taunted, “Sore loser!”

“Reckless words from someone with a clean uniform.” He took out his wand.

“You wouldn’t dare.”

He smirked, “Try me.” Before she could say anything blue was splattered all over the front of her white shirt.

“Mattheo!”

“Pansy!” He mocked. His face suddenly turned to shock, his entire left cheek covered in blue. He turned to face Y/N, a dangerous, almost hungry look in his eyes. “Oh, it’s on.”

Suddenly blue was shot right at her, catching her square in the chin. She fired back at him, right when Pansy did, causing him to retaliate with even more until all of their clothes were covered in blue as well as the area around them. A portrait of an older witch not too far away was now half covered so it was impossible to tell what she looked like.

Just when Pansy was about to call truce Riddle hit with one more magic blue paintball. Raising her wand above her head she said, “Any last words?”

He laid a hand to his chest, tossing his head back, “Tell Blaise I fought till the bitter end and died a hero.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Blue splattered all over his chest and neck.

“And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how it’s done.” She took a bow.

He sat up, squinting at her. “Very funny. You still have two more people to find so hop to it.”

She rolled her eyes, turning to Y/N “You wanna help me?”

“Sure, why not? I’ve got nothing better to do.”

“There’s the enthusiasm!” She grabbed her by the wrist and pushed past Riddle who was shaking his head.

“Cheater!”

“Loser!” She shouted back. The two girls were almost to the door when they heard Filch’s voice.

“Shit, fuck, ugh!” She muttered before turning on her heel. Y/N followed quickly behind her as she grabbed Riddle’s arm, “Come on! Let’s go!”

The three of them turned to see Filch open the door and see all of the blue splats all over the room.

He ran, shouting at them to stop. “I’ll have your heads!”

They laughed, running away, their shoes hitting the floor at light speed with Filch hot on their tails.

Motioning them past a statue, Pansy led the way into a secret tunnel.

“Lumos!” Her wand erupted with bright light, illuminating their path. Y/N kept on accidentally running into Pansy, Riddle right behind her. They didn’t stop until they reached the other side. The tunnel had led them to what Y/N could only assume was the Slytherin common room. She had never been inside except for that one party which was too packed to see anything but she recalled what Harry and Ron had said back in second year. It was just as dark as they had said, with very expensive furnishments. No doubt paid for by parents. The fireplace which was full of ash but not a single spark had a shiny exterior with two snakes running down its sides. The carvings were extremely detailed, every scale shining and polished. Green gems glinted from the eyes.

In the center of the room was a huge black couch and a handful of armchairs. Each looked brand new.

“Took you long enough.” Draco called from where he sat on the couch. A handful of other Slytherins, most of whom she didn’t know that well, sat near him. One or two gave her a polite nod but that was all.

Riddle hopped over the armrest and made a spot for himself on the other end of the couch. “You all are no fun. The game wasn’t over yet and you all just gave up?”

“In case you have forgotten, some of us have assignments to complete. Not that you would know since you don’t come to class.” Daphne said.

Pansy snorted. “I’m surprised you’re even passing.”

Y/N nodded, taking a seat on one of the unoccupied chairs away from everyone else. Recently she had seen him a total of three times in class over the past month. Whenever he showed up she was shocked to realize that he was in that class.

Before Riddle could reply Millicent chimed in, “It’s cause they’re all scared of him.”

“No, they just don’t want him in class.” Daphne responded. “They barely have enough time as it is for all of his detentions.”

“Oh, yeah. How many more weeks do you have left with Trelawney before you’re done?”

Y/N glanced over at him, remembering when Hermione mentioned that. But that was a while ago.

“Four.” He laughed.

“How many have you already done?” Y/N wondered.

He smiled.

“Go on. Tell her.” Pansy taunted.

“Eight.”

“Eight?” Her voice turned a bit squeaky. “What the hell did you do?”

Draco who had been silent for the whole conversation, off in his head, suddenly jumped in. “He released a bunch of stink bombs in her room and blamed it on Peeves. It was in the middle of a test.”

“In my defense, Peeves was about to do it anyway. She totally bought it too.”

Puzzled, she asked, “Then how’d she find out it was you?”

“Your friend, Granger, outed him.” Daphne said.

Malfoy wrinkled his nose in disgust while a few of the others grimaced. There was a reason why she never mentioned her friends when hanging out with them. They were personas non grata within the Slytherin house.

“Right. Sorry I asked.”

“It’s fine. It gives me something to do every Tuesday night.” Riddle said but he didn’t look fine. He had shadows under his eyes and miscellaneous cuts and bruises on his face and arms. His shirt was dyed blue from earlier, no white visible anymore. In fact, one of his wounds had a bit of blood trickling from it, turning the magical paint purple. Some traitorous part of her wanted to wipe it away, to comfort him. The other part of her wanted to know what he was thinking. If he knew anything. As far as she had seen all he did was cut class and hang out with friends while smoking and occasionally drinking. She hadn’t seen him with that girl from the party since she bumped into them. For some reason that made her smile a bit.

Her thoughts were abruptly interrupted by the return of Blaise and Theodore. Glancing over her shoulder she was surprised to see them dressed so formal. Both of them sat down on the couch in between Draco and Riddle.

She sat still, unsure what she should do. If they were getting back now, then Harry and Hermione were probably headed back to the common room. Ron was probably done practicing. The Slytherins had no windows in their common room but she suspected the sky was already dark.

Nudging Pansy in the arm, she whispered, “I should probably go.”

She turned to look at her, “Okay, see ya.”

“Bye!” She waved at Pansy before walking up the stairs.

“Hey, tell Potter and Weasley to watch out tomorrow!” Someone yelled after her.

She whirled around, a teasing smile on her face. She yelled, “No need! We’re going to kick your asses!”, before ducking out of the common room. A pair of brown eyes trailing behind her before Pansy caught his eye, giving him a knowing look.

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

Ron was the first thing she saw upon entering the common room, or rather the group surrounding him and a few other quidditch players.

A few gave way when she approached them, allowing her access to the couch where her friends were sitting. They were all wishing them luck. Eventually Ginny told them to give Ron some space.

“Come on, nothing to see here.”

Ron sat there, head in his hands while Harry sat beside him, reassuring him. They had their first match in the morning and all week in practice he had been off his game. Even worse, it was against Slytherin so tension was high. The animosity between the two houses had reached an all time high.

Katie Bell was still out a month later. Her replacement, Dean Thomas, had proven himself to be a strong player, giving them hope despite everything. Although it had raised some tension between him and his girlfriend. They had yet another fight right before Slughorn’s party right in the middle of the common room not long after Harry and Hermione left. Something about how closely she and Harry were working on strengthening their team’s strategy.

“Hey Ginny,” Harry said. “What were you going to tell me earlier after practice?”

The redhead’s face lit up despite how tear-stained it had looked, earlier “Oh, yeah. During class today I overheard some Slytherins talking. Two of their players are out of commission for tomorrow’s match, including Malfoy.”

Harry sighed, relieved, “Well that’s good news.”

“Nice!” Y/N said, high fiving Ron who was similarly glad. She hadn’t noticed it earlier but Draco must have gotten injured or something. Maybe that’s why he had seemed so gloomy.

“I must admit, I was looking forward to the look on Malfoy’s face when we won. I can hear him now,” He put on a high pitched voice in a dramatic imitation of the blond Slytherin, “‘My father will hear about this!’”

All four of them collapsed in a fit of laughter.

Struggling to reign in his laughing in order to speak he went into an imitation again, “‘I’m Draco Malfoy and I’m a blond ferret who needs his rich daddy to hear me complain about everything!’”

She felt sick with laughter, clutching her stomach. It did feel odd though, now that she hung out with him more often. Not that they talked much.

When she finally looked up, meeting her friends’ eyes none of them could keep from laughing, breaking almost immediately. It was true what they say, laughter is infectious. The mirth in each others’ eyes twinkled, a welcome sight after so much gloom surrounding the impending exams before Christmas break. Outside of quidditch practice there had been few opportunities to be outside, enjoying the winter weather. Studying had kept them all tied to their books inside. In just a few short weeks school would be out and they all couldn’t wait to escape from the oppressive weight of classwork.

The next morning at breakfast all of their joy had been sucked out, leaving them all jittery with nerves. Ron most of all. The three of them watched as he walked in, stiff as a board. A handful of Slytherin’s taunts echoed but he kept on heading their way. He sat down opposite Harry and a plate appeared with the most unappetizing breakfast imaginable. Ron grimaced, looking up at Harry and Hermione.

“So, how was it?” He asked.

Hermione looked up from her book, “How was what?”

“Your dinner party?”

“Pretty boring actually. Though I think Harry enjoyed dessert.” She said with a small grin on her face.

Harry busied himself with his plate, not meeting their eyes. She exchanged a confused look with Ron. What on Earth did Hermione not tell her last night?

“Slughorn’s having a Christmas party next week and we’re meant to bring someone.”

“I expect you’ll be bringing McLaggen then. He’s in the Slug Club isn’t he?”

Y/N internally slapped her hand to her forehead. Teenage boys could be so dense.

Hermione shook her head, “Actually, I was going to ask you.”

She smiled, elbowing Harry in the ribs. He turned to look at her, his green eyes already rolling in exasperation. She gleefully took his five Galleons and pocketed them before either of their friends spotted it.

Ron scoffed, “Really?”

In the corner of her eye she spotted a flash of blonde hair.

Lavender came up behind Ron. “Good luck today Ron.” She touched his shoulder, “I know you’ll be brilliant.” She flashed him a smile which left him looking a little dazed before walking back to her friends.

Y/N glanced over at Hermione to see her dismayed expression. Reaching behind Harry’s back she touched her shoulder to reassure her. She gave her a small, sad smile before turning back to her forgotten book beside her plate.

Ron gulped, “I’m resigning. After today’s match, McLaggen can have my spot.”

Harry calmly said, “Have it your way. Juice?” He slid a cup across the table.

“Hello Everyone.” Luna’s light and airy voice drew their attention. There she sat, next to Ron, with a lion hat, the mouth was the opening for her head. She gave Ron a look, “You look dreadful, Ron.” Turning to face Harry, she asked, “Is that why you put something in his cup? Is it a tonic?”

All three of them turned to look at him. Ron, who had been about to take a sip, paused and examined the seemingly harmless contents.

Harry’s elbow bumped into Y/N’s as he put something away. She glanced down to see the familiar glint of Felix Felicis. Harry had a habit of toying with it when he was bored.

“Liquid Luck.” she said.

Hermione let out a gasp, “Don’t drink it Ron!”

The redhead shrugged before taking a slow sip. Setting it down he met them with a far more confident look, a noticeably different expression than the one he had earlier when he threatened to resign.

“You could be expelled for that!” Hermione hissed.”

Harry just shrugged, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Ron began to stand up, a smile on his face. “Come on Harry. We’ve got a game to win.”

“Yeah, that’s the spirit!” Y/N exclaimed. She and Harry both stood up. They were going to absolutely crush the Slytherins. Hermione gave them, both a disgruntled look but said nothing.

Once they got on the pitch Harry gave them all a pep talk. “We are going to go out there and we are going to win!”

“Yeah!” They all cheered, raising their brooms in the air.

Ron, instilled with a newfound confidence, marched out to the curtain where they all mounted their brooms.

“Three, two, one,” Harry paused, “Go!” In unison, all seven of them pushed off the ground and soared through the air, circling the pitch. The Gryffindor student section went wild, along with plenty of Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs. The sound drowning out the Slytherins booing.

A few seconds later the Slytherin team emerged, cheered on by their house. Draco, along with a few others, were noticeably missing. Replaced with other students. They just needed to hope that they would be off their game because of it. Once they got information she looked across at the player in front of her which just so happened to be a certain curly haired Slytherin.

“You’re going down” She mouthed.

He smirked. “You wish.”

Madam Hooch walked out under the field beneath them, blowing the whistle and releasing all of the balls. Harry’s eyes, as per usual, were immediately latched onto the Snitch. The rest of them were immediately spreading out, trying to get a clear path for Ginny to throw the Quaffle. Y/N drew closer so she could pass it before diving lower to escape the Slytherins. Just as she was about to score, the Keeper hit it away, tossing it to someone else.

“Better luck next time!” Riddle taunted from where he sat, perched on his broom a few feet away.

Gritting her teeth, she flew away just in time to see Ron manage to stop the ball from going through one of the hoops.

“Whoohoo!” She cheered before joining her teammates in their formation. Ginny broke away, narrowly escaping one of their Beaters. Her feet only a couple inches away from the icy ground below. Y/N followed suit, distracting the player long enough for Ginny to slam the ball right into the goal, causing two of the Slytherins to collide into it and fall.

After Ron began to block even more points the crowd began to chant, “Weasley! Weasley! Weasley!” The sound of it a soundtrack behind the rest of the game as Ron kept on blocking shot after shot and the rest of them kept on scoring. Not long after, the game was over and they were headed back to the team room. As the winning team they made a few celebratory circles around the Quidditch pitch, the crowd going wild. Most of the Slytherins were walking off, disappointed.

Harry gave them a very brief congratulatory talk before letting them all get changed so they could get back to the common room for the party. The entire room erupted in cheers when the seven of them entered, a banner that had Gryffindor painted on it was lifted high in the air and Ron was lifted onto people’s shoulders. He had the biggest smile on his face, a sort of dazed look in his eyes. Everyone was cheering for him. Even McLaggen halfheartedly joined in despite being a bit dejected over not getting on the team again.

Y/N watched on from where she stood next to Hermione.

“You really shouldn’t have done it.” She said to Harry.

Y/N looked over at him. He smiled impishly from the other side of Hermione. “I know. I suppose I could’ve just used the Confundus charm.”

“That was different. That was tryouts, this was an actual game.” She said, disappointed.

Harry took something out of his pocket to show her. There it was, right between his fingers. The Felix Felicis vial. And it was full.

“You didn’t put it in. Ron only thought you did.”

He nodded, pocketing it once more.

Y/N shook her head in amazement. Of course he did.

All three of them turned back in time to watch as Lavender grabbed Ron by the shoulders and kissed him, Ron’s arms wrapping around her waist. Harry began to clap along with the others but Y/N felt Hermione back away. She watched as Harry finally noticed that she was gone and how his smile faded. Y/N was about to follow her when he put a hand on her arm and shook his head.

“I’ll go.”

She nodded.

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

“I can’t believe you’re going to Slughorn’s party with McClaggen!” Y/N said, hitting her with her pillow.

“I know! I thought it would annoy Ron the most.” Hermione admitted. She flopped down on her back right beside where Y/N sat.

“Have you seen him with Lavender? I doubt he can even notice from where she’s snogging him every five seconds.” Y/N grimaced. They had become insufferable.

Her best friend’s face became dejected. She hated how weak she felt, hurting over a boy.

“Look, I’m sure he’ll be annoyed. He hates Cormac. If he doesn’t notice then I’m sure Harry will mention it to him if you ask.”

Hermione smirked but shook her head. “No. I just want him to notice me, like actually notice me as more than just his friend. It’s not the same if someone is pointing his face in my direction.”

Y/N gave her a hug, mentally thrashing Ron in her head. He would be lucky to have her if he could just see what a wonderful girl was right in front of him. Not that Lavender was a bad person but she smothered him. He didn’t admit it but it was in his eyes whenever she called him her ‘Won-won’. They had only been together for a little over a week but she could tell he was getting tired.

“He will. And if he doesn’t then someone else will. You’re intelligent, funny, and absolutely beautiful. Anyone would be lucky to have you.”

“Thanks.” Y/N could tell she didn’t fully believe it but there was nothing more she could do about that other than remind her.

Hoping to distract her she decided to tell her about what she had overheard in the library earlier. “Okay, so you know Romilda Vane? The girl with the long, dark, and curly hair that we saw Hannah Abbott talking to the other day? Apparently she’s trying to sneak Harry a love potion! I heard her talking about it with some of her friends.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Boy am I glad that I’m not the Chosen One.”

She snorted, “Speaking of, Harry still needs a date to Slughorn’s party.”

“I’m not going if that’s what you’re going to ask.”

“Ugh, why not?”

“Because.”

“No. Give me a real answer. Come on, it’ll be fun! You can distract me from my horrible choices.”

“You can manage. Besides, I have a paper to write.”

“Fair enough. We don’t want you to fail.”

Y/N smiled at her. “I thought you’d think so.”

“You know me so well.”

“I sure do.”

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

A few days passed before the party. Y/N walked into her room to find it in total shambles. Hermione sat in the middle of it. She was still in a shirt and a pair of pants, the only thing done was her makeup. Although subtle, it was there.

“Wow.”

She looked up at her, “I know. I can’t decide.”

“Well you don’t have many dresses so how hard of a decision can it be?”

Hermione sighed. “I didn’t think this through. What am I doing?”

Kneeling beside her amidst the piles of clothes, she gave her a tight squeeze. “It’s going to be alright. Now! What are the options?”

Hermione nodded, glad to have a distraction from the horrifying thought of having to dance with Cormac of all people.

“Okay, how about this one?” Y/N raised the dress that she wore for the Yule Ball. It was still in really good condition.

Hermione shook her head. “I want to wear something else. Something a bit more, I don’t know. Mature? I guess?”

“Oo! How about this one?” It was a pretty pink dress that she had gotten on vacation with her parents over the summer holidays. She still hadn’t worn it.

Hermione took it from her and quickly changed into it. After she zipped it up she turned so Y/N could see it.

“That’s the one!” It was absolutely gorgeous. The pink shade suited her so well and the v-neck and knee length cut made her look amazing. It was so different from what she normally wore. They found a necklace and a pair of earrings that matched her new dress.

“Oh, look at the time! I need to go!” Hermione exclaimed.

“Not so fast! Just give me a minute.” Y/N immediately set to doing her hair, brushing it out a bit before using her wand to curl the ends. As a last touch she grabbed a small clip to tuck a strand of hair back with.

“Okay, you look gorgeous! Let’s go!”

Hermione slipped on a pair of heels and hurried down the stairs.

Y/N watched as she left, excited to hear all about it when she returned. Hopefully Cormac would be able to keep his hands to himself.

Ducking back into the room she realized just how empty it was. The mess of clothes was still all over the place. Sighing, she got to work, cleaning it up, putting all of Hermione’s clothes away. She then went over to her own bed and opened up her bottom drawer. In it was a notebook that she had been using to meticulously note everything she observed about a certain Dark Lord’s son. All she had was the various places she had seen him smoke and that he liked listening to the Smiths. She had been listening to them for research and research only. Although she did occasionally wonder what his favorite song was.

Chapter 8>>

(Let me know if you want to be tagged in upcoming chapters!)

[cafechichay]

i hope you guys like Theodore Nott because I’ve just wrote an 11k+ fic for him 🫣 (i apologise for the lack of formatting—AGAIN)

(pls comment cause i don’t know how to look at the poll results real time) (NEVERMIND I FIGURED IT OUT)

i wrote it!

[familyvideostevie]

I would love a theo nott fic!

you're in luck baby

[iamgonnagetyouback]

SEE YOU LIKE I DO.⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ㅤ ㅤ●ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ T. NOTT

SUMMARY ৎ୭ you were so excited for the pureblood ball, feeling beautiful in your dress—until no one seemed to notice. insecurities creep in, but theodore? he never lets you forget just how breathtaking you are

WARNINGS ಇ. insecurities, self-doubt, body image struggles, emotional hurt/comfort, lots of affection, theodore being the sweetest ever A/N ಇ. this piece feels personal because, if i’m being honest, it was inspired by last night where i didn’t have a theo to hold me, to comfort me. just know that you deserve someone who will remind you just how breathtaking you truly are. <3

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ᡣ𐭩 words.ᐟ 3,380

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ౨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

You twirled in front of the mirror, the soft shimmer of the pale blue fabric catching the light and casting faint patterns across the room. The dress hugged your figure perfectly, the intricate lace detailing framing your shoulders like frost on a winter morning. For the first time in what felt like forever, you didn’t pick yourself apart or search for flaws. Instead, you smiled—a genuine, radiant smile that lit up your reflection.

“I look… amazing,” you whispered to yourself, a little breathless at the sight.

From the doorframe of your shared flat, Theodore leaned with his arms crossed, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he watched you. "Amazing doesn’t quite cover it," he murmured, his voice warm and teasing.

You startled slightly, turning to find him standing there, his dark green tie undone and his shirt unbuttoned at the collar. The sight of him, even in his half-dressed state, was enough to make your cheeks warm.

“How long have you been standing there?” you asked, a mix of embarrassment and fondness lacing your tone.

“Long enough to see you falling in love with yourself,” he replied smoothly, pushing off the frame and walking toward you. “And I can’t blame you. I mean…” He motioned toward you with a sweeping hand. “You look like something out of a fairytale.”

You laughed softly, the sound light and airy, and gave a playful curtsy. “You’re just saying that because you have to.”

“Wrong,” he said firmly, stepping closer until he was just behind you, his reflection towering over yours in the mirror. “I’m saying it because it’s true.”

You turned to face him fully, still smiling as you playfully rolled your eyes. "You’re laying it on thick, Theo. Should I be worried you’re trying to make up for something?”

He chuckled, the sound low and warm, before reaching out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “I’ll admit, I’m trying to convince you of something.”

“And what’s that?” you asked, tilting your head curiously.

“That you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen,” he said simply, his gaze unwavering as his hands found yours.

The sincerity in his voice made your breath hitch, and you looked down to hide the flustered grin threatening to break across your face. Theodore, however, wasn’t having it. Gently, he tipped your chin back up, his thumb brushing softly along your jaw.

"Don’t hide from me," he murmured, his voice low and earnest. "Not tonight. Not ever. You’re stunning, and I want to see you smile like that all night long."

Your chest tightened at the sweetness of his words, and for a moment, you could do nothing but stare at him. How someone like Theodore—reserved, composed, and effortlessly magnetic—could look at you with such adoration was something you’d never fully understand.

“I don’t deserve you,” you whispered before you could stop yourself.

Theodore frowned, the crease between his brows deepening as he shook his head. "Don’t say that," he said softly but firmly. "You deserve everything, amour. Everything good in this world."

A laugh bubbled out of you at the sudden intensity in his voice, and you squeezed his hands. “Alright, alright. I’ll take your word for it—for tonight, at least.”

He smiled then, one of those rare, genuine smiles that made his whole face soften. “Good. Now, give me a spin.”

You raised a brow but complied, twirling once more as the skirt of your dress flared around you like a cloud. Theodore stepped back slightly, letting out a low whistle as he watched you.

“You’re going to ruin me, you know that?” he said, shaking his head with mock exasperation.

You grinned, feeling light and warm all over as you reached out to adjust his tie. “Well, I’ve got to keep you on your toes somehow.”

“And I’ll be more than happy to fall for you every single time,” he replied, his hands settling on your waist as he pulled you closer.

The kiss he pressed to your forehead was soft and lingering, a silent promise of the night to come. And in that moment, you thought that maybe—just maybe—he was right. You did look like something out of a fairytale.

But even more than that, you felt loved.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ౨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

The Pureblood Ball was nothing short of extravagant. Glittering chandeliers dripped from the high ceilings, casting a warm glow over the sea of finely dressed guests. The soft hum of orchestral music filled the grand hall, a melody that felt as timeless as the traditions celebrated tonight.

You stepped inside, Theodore at your side, his hand resting protectively on the small of your back. It was grounding, his touch—silent reassurance in an unfamiliar crowd. You felt a flicker of pride in yourself, standing tall in your carefully chosen dress. The fabric shimmered softly, the intricate lace detailing catching the golden light. You had truly felt beautiful earlier, and the memory of Theodore’s compliments replayed in your mind like a balm to your nerves.

At first, you didn’t notice the eyes. The fleeting glances, followed by the subtle but unmistakable dismissals. Heads turned toward you briefly, scanning your appearance before moving on to the next person—someone shinier, someone more important, someone who belonged.

You told yourself it didn’t matter.

Instead, you focused on Theodore’s soft murmurings beside you, his occasional brush of his fingers against yours when he leaned in to say something amusing about the room or the guests. For a while, it worked. It was easy to feel beautiful, standing beside someone who looked at you as if you were the most precious thing in the room.

Yet as the evening wore on, and you found yourself standing in a circle of acquaintances, the sharp contrast became harder to ignore.

“Daphne, you look stunning,” someone gushed, their voice brimming with admiration.

“Astoria, that dress is perfection,” another added, their gaze lingering appreciatively.

You felt your chest tighten as you watched Daphne smile and murmur a gracious thank you, her elegance seemingly effortless. Astoria twirled slightly, showing off her dress with a soft laugh that drew even more praise.

You plastered on a smile, determined to push aside the creeping doubt. “You both look absolutely breathtaking tonight,” you said warmly, your voice light and kind as always.

It wasn’t a lie. They did look beautiful, and you weren’t one to begrudge them that. But as the compliments continued to flow, their warmth like sunlight on everyone but you, a familiar ache settled in your chest.

Maybe the dress wasn’t as flattering as you thought. Maybe the color didn’t suit you after all.

You tried to ignore the way your confidence seemed to waver, clinging to the memory of Theodore’s earlier words. But even they felt distant now, drowned out by the chatter around you.

You caught sight of yourself in a distant mirror, the pale blue of your dress glinting faintly under the chandeliers. The gown that had felt magical at home now seemed dull in comparison to the glittering silvers and deep emeralds of the other women.

“Perhaps I should’ve chosen something more striking,” you thought, the doubt flickering briefly before you shook it off.

It didn’t matter, you told yourself again. Compliments weren’t everything.

But then the comments began.

“You look so... delicate,” someone said, their tone walking the fine line between polite and dismissive. “Do you ever eat, dear?”

“I think I saw that dress in last season’s collection,” another murmured to their companion, their voice low but not quite low enough.

You kept smiling, nodding as though nothing had stung, brushing away the comments with practiced grace.

It was fine. It was fine.

But it wasn’t.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ౨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

The group had congregated near the refreshments table, a small oasis of comfort amidst the sea of glittering gowns and sharp gazes. Mattheo was lounging casually against the table, a glass of champagne in his hand, while Blaise and Lorenzo engaged in some quiet, sarcastic commentary about the other guests’ extravagant outfits.

Pansy stood beside you, her sharp eyes scanning your face as you fidgeted with your dress.

"You look absolutely radiant tonight," she said suddenly, her voice soft but firm. It wasn’t a passing compliment; it carried the weight of intent, as if she could see the doubts you were trying so hard to hide.

You smiled at her, grateful but still unable to fully accept her words. “Thanks, Pans,” you said lightly, your voice laced with practiced cheerfulness. “You look amazing, too. That dress is stunning on you.”

Pansy narrowed her eyes slightly, not buying your act. "Are you alright?" she asked, her tone quieter, meant just for you.

You nodded quickly, brushing a hand over your hair as if to smooth out a strand that wasn’t even out of place. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Theodore, standing slightly behind you, tilted his head at your response. He wasn’t saying anything, but his intense gaze lingered on you, studying your every movement.

“Liar,” Mattheo said suddenly, his voice loud and teasing enough to draw attention. He arched a brow at you, smirking around the rim of his glass.

You let out a light laugh, shaking your head. "You’re impossible," you said, trying to deflect.

“She’s deflecting,” Lorenzo chimed in, leaning toward Blaise with a dramatic stage whisper. “Classic move.”

“Obviously,” Blaise drawled, taking a sip of his own drink. “Though, in her defense, the deflection is done with style.”

“Guys,” you muttered, though there was no real bite in your tone.

Draco, who had been silently observing, finally spoke, his voice calm but pointed. “If you’re not okay, just say it. You don’t have to play it off.”

You glanced between them, your heart warming slightly at their concern but also tightening with the weight of your emotions. The room felt too loud, too bright, and suddenly the thought of explaining yourself was exhausting.

“I’m fine,” you repeated, though the words were barely above a whisper now.

Theodore finally stepped forward, his fingers brushing against your wrist as he leaned down slightly. “Are you?” he asked, his voice so low that only you could hear.

You glanced up at him, meeting his sharp, knowing gaze. For a moment, you almost answered honestly, but the lump in your throat kept you silent. Instead, you smiled—tight, practiced, unconvincing.

“I promise,” you murmured.

Theodore didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t push further. Instead, he reached into his pocket and casually pulled out his camera. With a flick, a small, soft glow appeared, followed by a faint click.

You blinked at him, startled. “Theo! What are you doing?”

He smirked, tucking his wand away. “Taking evidence. You look too good tonight for you to forget it.”

His words were simple, delivered with that usual calm confidence, but something about them made your chest tighten. You forced a laugh, waving him off. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you’re stunning,” he countered, his voice steady and sure.

You didn’t respond, instead turning to pretend to fuss with the drink in your hand. You didn’t want them to see how much those words meant—or how much you wished you could believe them.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ౨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

The moment you returned home, the heavy weight of the evening seemed to crash over you all at once. You slipped out of your heels in the entryway, the cool floor sending a small shock through your tired feet. A sigh of relief escaped your lips, but it did little to ease the tightness in your chest.

Theodore was still locking the door when you hurried to your bedroom, your steps quick and uneven as if you could outrun the feelings clawing at you.

Once inside, the quiet of the room felt deafening. The glimmering fabric of your dress caught the soft glow of the lamp, but the sight that had once made you smile now felt like a cruel taunt. You stood in front of the mirror, staring at your reflection with a mix of frustration and sadness.

Your hands smoothed over the fabric, tugging it tighter against your stomach, then your waist, willing it to fit differently, to accentuate something more, to make you look... better.

"Why didn’t anyone say anything?" The thought looped endlessly in your mind, suffocating you with its weight.

You pulled at the lace on your shoulders, wondering if it was too much, if it looked out of place. You turned to the side, your eyes scanning every curve, every detail, searching for flaws. The dress had felt magical earlier in the evening, but now it seemed like it didn’t belong on you at all.

"Daphne looked perfect. So did Astoria. No one even noticed me."

The image of them laughing, glowing, receiving endless compliments replayed in your mind, each memory sharper than the last. You imagined their effortless grace, the way they fit so seamlessly into a world that still felt foreign to you despite your place in it.

You reached up to touch your hair, fingers brushing against the carefully styled curls that had taken so long to perfect. Now, they felt limp, lifeless. Your makeup, once vibrant and fresh, looked dull to your critical eye.

"Maybe it’s me. Maybe I’m just... not enough."

Your throat tightened as you struggled to swallow the lump forming there. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes, but you blinked them away, determined to hold yourself together. It wasn’t anyone’s fault, you told yourself. You’d just read too much into things.

But the ache in your chest refused to be silenced. The things people had said floated to the surface of your mind, cruel whispers you couldn’t unhear.

"You’re so skinny—are you eating enough?" "That color isn’t flattering on you." "The dress is nice, but it doesn’t do much for your figure."

You pressed your hands flat against your stomach again, pulling the fabric taut, trying to imagine a version of yourself that might have drawn compliments instead of criticism. Your vision blurred as the tears you had been fighting finally spilled over, streaking your carefully done makeup.

You tried to take a deep breath, but it came out as a shaky sob.

The door creaked open behind you, but you didn’t turn. You couldn’t. You didn’t want him to see you like this—broken, crumbling under the weight of insecurities you didn’t even know you still carried.

“Amour?” Theodore’s voice was soft, laced with concern.

You hastily wiped at your face, though it did little to hide the redness in your eyes. “I’m fine,” you said quickly, the lie burning your throat.

“You don’t have to do that,” he said gently, stepping further into the room. His reflection appeared in the mirror, his brows furrowed as he watched you. “You don’t have to pretend with me.”

You shook your head, letting out a shaky laugh as more tears spilled over. “I’m not pretending. I’m just—” You gestured vaguely at your reflection, your voice breaking. “I just thought... I don’t know. I thought I looked good tonight. I really thought... maybe for once, I’d feel like I belonged.”

Theodore’s face softened, and he stepped closer, his hands resting on your shoulders. “You did look good. You looked incredible. And you do belong.”

You shook your head again, more forcefully this time, as your tears came harder. “No one even noticed me, Theo. No one said anything. And Daphne and Astoria—” You choked on the words. “They were perfect, and I just... wasn’t.”

He turned you gently to face him, his hands cupping your cheeks as he wiped away your tears with his thumbs. “Stop,” he said firmly, his voice steady but kind. “Stop comparing yourself to anyone else. You’re perfect, exactly the way you are.”

“But I’m not,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “It must tire you, doesn’t it? Constantly having to reassure me, having to deal with me—”

“Enough,” Theodore interrupted, his tone leaving no room for argument. His dark eyes bore into yours, unwavering and intense. “You don’t tire me. You could never tire me. And I’m not reassuring you because I have to. I’m doing it because I want to. Because I love you.”

Your breath hitched, his words piercing through the haze of your doubt.

“I love every part of you,” he continued, his voice softening. “Even the parts you don’t love yet. And I’ll keep telling you until you believe me.”

The tears came harder now, but they weren’t just from sadness. They were from the overwhelming wave of love and warmth his words brought. He pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly as you let the emotions spill out.

“I’m here,” he murmured against your hair, his hands rubbing soothing circles on your back. “Always.”

Theodore pulled back slightly, still holding you close, his dark eyes scanning your face with an almost unbearable softness. “Wait,” he murmured, his voice low and steady as he reached into his pocket.

You blinked up at him, confused but too emotionally drained to question him. A moment later, he held up a small, glossy photo. It was the one he had taken earlier in the night, back at the ball.

“Look,” he said, gently pressing the picture into your hand.

Your fingers trembled slightly as you took it, your eyes widening when you saw the image. There you were, captured mid-laugh, the soft fabric of your dress catching the light perfectly, making you appear as though you were glowing.

Your breath hitched, and you brushed your fingers over the photo, tracing the outline of your face, the curve of your lips, the shimmer of the dress you had thought no longer suited you.

“I… I look pretty,” you whispered, the words soft and hesitant as though you didn’t quite believe them.

Theodore’s lips quirked into a small, knowing smile, his hand sliding up to cup your cheek again. “Not just pretty,” he said firmly, leaning down to press a kiss to one cheek.

“Breathtaking.”

Your cheeks flushed under his touch, a giggle escaping your lips.

He moved to your other cheek, his lips brushing against your skin with deliberate slowness. “Ethereal.”

“Theo,” you murmured, laughing softly as the warmth of his affection began to melt away the remnants of your insecurities.

He didn’t stop. Instead, he tilted your chin up slightly, his lips pressing gently against your forehead. “Gorgeous,” he murmured against your skin, the word carrying so much love it made your chest ache in the best way.

Your laughter bubbled over as he began to pepper kisses across your face—your nose, your jawline, your temples. Each one was accompanied by another word, another compliment, each more ridiculous than the last.

“Enchanting,” he said as he kissed the tip of your nose. “Exquisite,” as he kissed your jawline. “Divine,” he said dramatically, kissing the space just below your ear.

“Theo!” you squealed, your hands coming up to push lightly at his chest as you dissolved into giggles. “It tickles!”

“Good,” he teased, grinning now as he continued his affectionate assault, his lips finding your temple, your chin, even the corner of your mouth. “Maybe then you’ll finally believe me.”

You were laughing so hard now, tears pricking the corners of your eyes for an entirely different reason than before. “Okay, okay, I believe you!” you gasped between giggles, your hands clutching at his shirt as you tried to steady yourself.

He finally pulled back, his own smile soft and full of adoration as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “Good,” he said quietly, his hands framing your face as his thumbs brushed gently over your cheeks. “Because I mean every word. You’re all of that, and more.”

Your heart swelled, and for the first time that night, you let his words sink in completely. You smiled up at him, your hands curling around his wrists as you leaned into his touch.

“I love you,” you whispered, the words tumbling out before you could stop them.

His eyes softened even more, if that were possible, and he leaned down to rest his forehead against yours. “I love you too,” he murmured, his voice steady and sure.

And as he kissed you, slow and sweet and full of everything you hadn’t known you needed, you thought that maybe—just maybe—you could finally believe it.

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

[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!)*

[mmeskywalker]

|| pussy drunk theodore nott

warnings: smut, pussy eating, needy!theo, not proof read

“theo, baby,” you whisper.

you run your fingers down the length of his neck, practically drooling at the sight of his adam’s apple as it bobs from your touch.

he grabs your hand, planting sweet kisses to each knuckle. “bella,” he whispers back, guiding you to his lap. “i missed you,” it wasn’t long before your lips were on his, tasting him feverishly as he rolls your hips onto his growing bulge, groaning.

“‘missed you more,” you exhale shakily.

due to studies and detentions, life has brought you two apart. you’ve been too busy trying to figure out whatever nonsense professor snape has thrown your way, and theo’s friend group keeps getting him into trouble. usually, detentions don’t bother him. but right now? it’s keeping him away from the one thing that keeps him sane.

you.

he touches you as if he were starved. his hands hungrily roaming over your curves, squeezing the firm globes of your ass. “no, cara mia, i really missed you.” theo’s breath is hot against your neck, nipping at the sensitive space below your ear.

it’s hard to respond coherently. you’ve been so used to your own hand that you’ve forgotten the way the friction of his lap felt beneath your core. when he bucks his hips up, you can’t help but tremble into his mouth. “i need you so badly, theo.” you whine, unbeknownstly pressing your tits against his chest.

“fuck,” his voice breaks, your plea sending a thrill straight to his cock.

his hands travel beneath your shirt, greedily groping your breasts as his lips attack your neck, nipping the flesh and soothing it over with his skillful, but tauntingly slow tongue. “stop teasing and take my shirt off,” you huff, frustration hitting you as you grind yourself against him. it’s been too long for him to take his time with you. you need him, and you need him now.

“ragazza avida,” theo smriks, running his calloused thumbs over your nipples, hardening the buds before discarding your top. you don’t care where it lands, but you know you’ll find it somewhere stupid like the lamp shade again.

he grabs your ass; abruptly, needily standing, pressing you against the hard planes of his body while his tongue dives into your mouth. your arms to tighten around his neck, your legs wrapping around his waist, and kissing him with a fervor you didn’t know you possessed. “do you know how miserable i’ve been without you?” he grunts, throwing you onto the bed and stripping himself as quickly as he can. “take those off. now.” theodore commands, gesturing toward your pants.

nodding, you oblige, wanting needing him just as badly as he needs you. as you rid yourself of your pants, he climbs onto the bed, stopping you before you can do the same with your underwear. “please,” he whimpers, not caring about the dominance stripping from his tone. “please, bellissima,” he spreads your legs open, his nose pressing against the lacy fabric. “keep your legs—yes, yes, just like that…”

the way your body reacts to his begging is almost pathetic. you throw your head back, arching to his touch. “do something, theo,” you whine, wet to the point it physically hurts.

and like that, he pools your panties down to your ankles, ogling at the sight of your damp pussy. he takes no time before dipping his tongue between your folds, a finger coming to pump in and out of your aching hole as he moans into your sex.

you grip his messy brunette hair, holding his head still as you grind yourself against his nose. “mhm,” theo hums, his eyebrows contorting into a state of pure bliss. balancing on his biceps, he brings his forearms under your legs, pushing you farther against him. “‘m all yours, bella. abuse my mouth—please, i want you to.” he whines, flicking his tongue rapidly against your clit.

“s-shit!” you whimper, squeezing his head with your shaky thighs as your eyes glue shut. “fuck—theo, that feels so good! please, please don’t stop. i’m so close already—‘ve needed you so badly, baby.”

he groans, a pathetic, needy sound from deep within his throat. he’s had his tongue plunged deep inside of you many of times, but each time he swears is better than the last. whimpers toll from his lips as he feels you quiver around his tongue, and he finds himself grinding into the mattress. he’s determined to make you cum, not once, but as many times as he can.

his thirst hasn’t been quenched for so long.

you feel something snap as his tongue plunges into you, his nose deliciously rubbing against your swollen clit. “tastes so good,” he says almost to himself, sucking at your pussy. “squirt in my mouth,” he whines, dragging a stripe up your sex until his tongue attacks your sweet spot. “you can do it, bella, please—‘need you.”

and you could do it, because you did, over and over for the rest of the night. theo had you arched against a pillow for hours, hands groping your thighs as he took your body and drowned himself in the essence between your legs.

because that’s just where he wanted to be, and he’d stay there as long as you let him, because he’s addicted to you.

[rafesslxt]

slytherin boys hc realizing they were to rough after an argument and comforting you?😭🙏

thank u for requesting, have fun reading <3

✧.*𝑺𝑳𝒀𝑻𝑯𝑬𝑹𝑰𝑵 𝑩𝑶𝒀𝑺 𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑫𝑪𝑨𝑵𝑶𝑵 | 𝑨𝑭𝑻𝑬𝑹 𝑨𝑹𝑮𝑼𝑴𝑬𝑵𝑻 + 𝑵𝑺𝑭𝑾

characters: mattheo riddle, tom riddle, theodore nott, lorenzo berkshire, draco malfoy

warnings: fighting, arguing, fluff, mention of make up sex, so a bit smut

Mattheo Riddle:

let‘s be honest, he would definetly take a moment to realize he actually hurt your feelings

his pride and stubbornness would be in the way at first

but when he sees the first tears rolling down your cheeks he slowly walks towards you giving your forehead a kiss while hugging you tightly and swiping your tears away with his thumb

"I am so sorry princess, I swear you‘re right. I didn‘t mean it like that, you know that, right? I love you so much I would never want to hurt you on purpose. Can you please talk to me again, baby?"

he would pull you onto his lap and rock you slighty while whispering sweet things into your ear telling you how sorry he is and that it won‘t happen again

Mattheo would just cuddle you for the rest of the night and maybe have make up sex with you If you‘re not too mad at him

"I‘m gonna show you how sorry I am princess." he would be a MUNCH and eat you out, never stopping no matter how sensetive you got.

"Want me to stop? Come on baby, one more just one more I promise." his tounge would flick relentlessly over your clit over and over again, his green ties around your wrists making it hard to protest.

Tom Riddle:

bro would try to manipulate you at first and tell you you‘re overreacting and too sensetive but when you leave the room and don‘t try to reach out to him for a few days..

you got his head spinning

maybe he would wonder why you‘re ignoring him until he remebers your fight which he almost forgot because it was so unimportant to him

i think he would try to get closer to you so you had to talk to him

but when you still wouldn‘t and he notices the hurt in your eyes, he would wrap his arms around you from behind and whisper in your ear how sorry he is

he couldn‘t believe he really spoke these words but you meant too much to him to loose you over an stupid argument he couldn‘t even remember at first

"How difficult was that for you?" you ask when your little frown on your fave disappears and is switched with a smirk. He rolls his eyes and presses you against him, still whispering in your ear.

"Don‘t try your luck too much darling." While his fingers squeeze your sides

100% rough make up sex where he would punish you for not talking to him

"Fuck you think you can just ignore me? Act like I‘m not there?" while he pounds into you from behind, pushing your face down into the pillow.

"What was that darling? Couldn‘t hear you over all the noises you make."

Theodore Nott:

I have a splitted opinion on Theodore to be honest

on one side he would be the sweetest and comfort you right away without thinking twice about it

but on the other hand I also see him giving you a cold shoulder, also too stubborn and ignorant to realize how much he hurt you

but on either side, when he then would notice how you ignore him he would so something romantic to make it up to you

I just see him with a picnic prepared outside at the lake with your favorite snacks and a plushy for you.

"I‘m so sorry cara mia you mean the world to me, I never meant to hurt you. Please let me male it up to you."

After the picnic and you forgiving him he would pin you down, not giving a fuck who would see you If walking mear by

"Theo! Everyone could see!" you struggle against his fingers on your clit. "hmm let them see how sorry I am principessa."

he would pussy your skirt up and eat you out like Mattheo but without the whole overstimulation

when you come for the first time he wouldn‘t hesitate or waste any time to pull down his pants and fuck you next to the lake

"Fuck we should argue more often If that‘s the outcome of it. Me pounding your tight little pussy amore." You would shoot him a glare but moan his name right after, eyes rolling back

Lorenzo Berkshire:

He would be THE sweetest ever

but also he‘s someone who try‘s to stay calm during fights but then when he is really mad, he just explodes without thinking

as soon as he sees the first tear rolling down your face he would walk over to you and hug you so tight you almost couldn‘t breathe.

"God y/n I am so so so so sorry I swear it will never happen again! Shit I‘m so stupid I don‘t even deserve you baby."

when you would forgive him and already forgot about the fight you two had, he couldn‘t stop thinking about it.

he was just so sorry he had to show you somehow so the first thing that came to his mind was buying you something you wanted since forever

a fucking puppy

"Enzo! Oh my god you did nooot!" you said in a whiny tone about to cry from happiness

"No no no princess please don‘t cry I can bring him back If you don‘t – " "What? No!" you take him out of his hands and look down into it‘s cute face "thank you thank you thank you!"

after the day went by and you two got everything you need for your new baby, you wanted to thank your boyfriend

"Oh – fuck yes." he‘d groan while you ride him, bouncing up and down "Bloody hell I‘ll give you a whole damn zoo If that‘s what‘s going to happen after." he says while gripping your hips and fucking right up into your thankful pussy

Draco Malfoy:

he didn‘t know what to do at first, your cold shoulder towards him felt like a knife in his chest even tho he knew he deserved it

he said some things to you in an argument he wasn‘t proud of, too ashamed when he knew you only wanted the best for him

The only thing he knew was showering you in gifts which would work with little things but not this. You wanted him to apologize with real words.

after days of giving you gift after gift he realized for himself that it wasn‘t going to work.

"Darling? Do you have a minute?" he would ask to which you just nod slighty

He would take a deep breath before speaking " I am sorry for what I said. I truly am. And I never should have said that to you or let my frustration out on you I‘m really ashamed of what vame out of my mouth when everything you wanted was just the best mor me."

It felt like a stone fell from his heart after speaking what he had thought for days and your happy face told him it was just what you wanted to hear

"Shit y/n –" he groans when you take him deeper into your mouth, looking up at him with innocent eyes.

"Just wait what we‘ll do after that pretty boy." you chuckled before taking him back knto your mouth and sucking him for dear life.

thank u for reading I hope u liked it 🫶🏻

taglist: @justarandomcanadiantransdude @helendeath @thatonepansexual2000 @imabee-oralizard @supernaturaldawning @sofa-couch26 @little-miss-naill @kolsangel @itsarajr @jolly4holly @hisparentsgallerryy @slytherinscreamqueen @mixvchelle @littlemadamred @ummmmmmm-username @jeannie-beannie @belle-blue @izriddle @danaeneocleous @sagetakami [if you wanna be removed tell me 💞]

xoxo sarah <3

[bettymylove]

READER MAKING OUT HARDCORE WITH THEODORES ABS AND SHE PRACTICALLY CRIES SHES SO HORNY AND THEYRE SO PRETTY SO SHE EVENTUALLY GETS OFFF ON HIS ABS?!

needy

pairing: theodore nott x reader

content: pure smut, 18+

your hazy state and the fact that theo was just out of the shower were the two things you had decided to blame for your behavior.

you had been painfully horny all day long, so much that it hurt to walk and the only solution you were aware of for your problem was theodore nott also known as your boyfriend.

you had reached his dorm when he was still in the shower, and like the good girl you were you waited for him on his bed not once trying to touch yourself.

theo emerged from the shower with wet hair and water dripping down his body until it reached his very loosely hung grey towel which you were sure was the only piece of clothing he was wearing.

however, your attention was taken up by something else, his abs were the only thing you could focus on.

"baby, what are you doing here? I thought you were busy today" you broke out of your trance after hearing his low and husky voice.

having no patience left, you took long strides towards him and clawed on his chest so that he would angle his face towards yours.

both of your lips met in a fiery kiss, and you detached your arms from around his neck to his shoulders slightly pushing him back so that he would land on the bed with you on top of him.

your kisses started trailing downwards, sucking on his neck long enough to leave a mark.

you had untied his towel and his cock sprung out in response, your kisses finally reached his abs the place you adored the most.

licking all over his abdomen, while sneaking some licks to his dick, you moaned after you heard him groan.

if you thought you were horny before, it was nothing compared to what you were feeling now after theo forcefully put his dick in your mouth to cum in it.

you had started humping the floor out of desperation,you needed the friction,you needed the release.

"are you really such a needy whore, that you have started getting yourself off on the floor?" you only moaned out a breathy moan in response.

you finally had the courage to stand up on your wobbly knees and push theo back down on the bed again.

carefully positioning yourself on top of his abs,you started to move back and forth the friction going directly to your clit.

theo made an animalistic sound at this, "fuck baby, you really love my abs that much, huh?" he was fully smirking seeing you in this form.

"love it teddy" you responded, biting your lip.

"do you fuck your pillow like this, thinking it's my abs?" you blushed at being caught, and only nodded in response.

"you're close aren't you baby, you're gonna cum in your panties like a whore?" he had started helping you fasten your pace so that your could reach your high.

"m'your whore teddy" you managed to make out, and just as you did you reached your orgasm, it was so stretched out that you were shaking by the end of it.

"fuck that was so hot, now don't you think my dick needs a little riding too?" he asked cheekily and you were more than happy to oblige.