#nott in the moonlight

[leona-hawthorne]

LEONA-HAWTHORNE’S KINKTOBER

october 3rd. theodore nott — toys, voyeurism, bondage.

theodore nott x fem reader

summary ; you have some… interesting experiences with theo when you and your friends decide to spend the night in an old haunted manor. words ; 5.1k warnings ; toys (use of dildo and vibrator), unprotected piv, bondage, voyeurism, 18+ content

navigation kinktober masterlist

The crisp October night wrapped itself around you like a cold embrace, the wind whispering through the overgrown vines that clung to the rusted iron gates before you. The abandoned manor loomed in the distance, a decaying relic of the past, its towering silhouette dominating the sprawling grounds.

"Are we seriously spending the night here?" Pansy's voice wavered between excitement and fear as she glanced at the foreboding mansion.

"Of course," Mattheo grinned, his usual cocky demeanor unfazed. "Nothing wrong with a little ghost hunting with friends."

Blaise snorted, smirking. "Yeah, unless we end up as ghosts ourselves."

"Relax, you nitwits. It's just an old house," Draco muttered, rolling his eyes as he pushed open the creaking iron gates.

You shivered, instinctively pulling your cloak tighter around your shoulders. "Theo, are you sure about this?" you asked softly, your gaze flickering to your boyfriend standing beside you. His sharp features were illuminated by the pale moonlight, his hair falling lazily over his eyes. He glanced at you, smirking as his hand slipped into yours, sending a wave of warmth through the chill.

"Don't tell me you're scared," he teased. "It's just an old house."

"You said it was haunted," you reminded him, trying and failing to keep the tremor out of your voice.

Theo's smirk widened. "Rumors. Superstitions. Nothing you need to worry about."

With a playful tug, he pulled you forward, leading you through the rusted gates.

When you reached the massive oak doors, Theo paused, glancing at you over his shoulder with that same teasing grin. "Still want to go inside?"

Your heart hammered in your chest, the oppressive energy of the place thickening the air, but you wouldn't let him see your hesitation. You swallowed hard and nodded, determined not to back down now. Not in front of him.

"Good girl," he murmured, his voice laced with approval.

With a forceful push, the doors groaned open, revealing the dark, decaying entrance hall. The air inside was colder than outside, thick with dust and the scent of mildew. Torn tapestries lined the walls, forgotten remnants of a grandeur long faded.

You groaned, glancing around in disbelief. "Remind me again why I agreed to this?" you muttered, frustration mingling with your mounting anxiety.

Theo led you deeper into the manor, his steps confident as if he'd been here a thousand times. The others followed behind, their footsteps echoing through the grand, dilapidated space. Cobwebs hung from every corner like old lace, and the weight of the silence was almost suffocating. Theo turned to you, extending his hand once more.

"So," he said with a grin, "what do you think? Spooky enough for you? Let me know if you need someone to hold your hand."

You shot him a glare, though the knot in your stomach betrayed your bravado. Your fingers brushed lightly against his. "Shut up. I told you, I'm not scared," you grumbled, though the darkened hallways told a different story.

Your heart thudded in your chest, the mix of fear and his teasing making your pulse quicken. “But I won't lie, there is something about being here that makes my skin crawl," you admitted, barely above a whisper, as you unconsciously inched toward him.

His arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you slightly closer. "I thought you weren't scared," he teased again, though his voice was softer now, almost amused. "Maybe you need a big, strong man to keep you safe after all."

Rolling your eyes, you elbowed him lightly. "I said shut up."

His lips curled into a gleeful smile, clearly enjoying your unease. "Lucky for you, love, I'm here to save the day." With your hand firmly in his, he led you further into the manor, the old floorboards creaking beneath your every step.

The shadows deepened as you ventured further inside, their long, jagged shapes seeming to reach for you. Theo's grip tightened on your hand, offering silent reassurance as the cold stone walls closed in. "We should stick together anyway," he mused, his tone lighter now. "Safety in numbers, right?"

Eventually, the two of you found yourselves in a grand sitting room, the large windows covered with tattered, moth-eaten curtains. Faded portraits lined the walls, their painted eyes tracking your every movement with unnerving accuracy. A cold, dead fireplace loomed at the far end, its once-mighty hearth now filled with lifeless ashes.

"Cozy," Theo smirked, wandering over to a dusty bookshelf. He trailed a finger along the spines of the old books, eyeing them curiously. "I bet there's some fascinating reading material in here."

You snorted, rolling your eyes as you playfully nudged him. "Only you would think about books in a place like this, nerd."

Before he could reply, a loud thump echoed from upstairs, causing both of you to jump. Theo's eyes widened momentarily before he composed himself with a chuckle.

"Probably just the others... or maybe the ghosts," he joked, his hand resting protectively on the small of your back.

With a shared look, the two of you headed back to the foyer, where your friends were gathered, lounging on worn furniture and discussing their next move.

"Well, well, looks like our little explorers found nothing but dust and cobwebs," Lorenzo called from his spot on an aged velvet sofa, a grin plastered on his face. "I say that’s enough sightseeing for now. We’ve got a whole night ahead of us. How about we liven things up with a game of Truth or Dare?"

Theo rolled his eyes. "Truth or Dare? Seriously, Enzo? What are you, fourteen?"

Mattheo chuckled, shrugging. "What else are we gonna do in a place like this?"

"Fine, fine," Theo said, throwing up his hands. "But I’m only playing if there’s alcohol involved." He turned to you with a wicked grin. "Since my lovely girlfriend is feeling so bold tonight, why don't you start us off? Truth or dare?"

You met his gaze, unwilling to back down from the challenge. "Dare," you replied, lifting your chin defiantly. "I'm not afraid of a little challenge.”

A slow grin spread across Theo's face. "Alright, I dare you..." He paused dramatically, letting the tension build. " ...to kiss me. Right here, in front of everyone.”

The collective groan from your friends was almost comical. "That's hardly a dare," you scoffed. "I mean, you are my boyfriend."

"Maybe I just wanted an excuse to kiss you," Theo shot back with a cheeky grin.

You rolled your eyes, but your annoyance couldn't hide the small smile tugging at your lips. "You're such a show-off.”

Without further hesitation, you stepped forward and kissed him deeply, your fingers threading through his hair as your lips moved together. You blocked out the catcalls and whistles from your friends, focused only on the warmth of Theo's body pressed against yours. His hands roamed your back, pulling you closer, and for a moment, the eerie manor and all its dangers faded away.

As you broke apart, breathless, Theo smirked, his forehead resting against yours. "Much better than I expected," he murmured, his tone filled with playful pride.

You blushed, looking away. "Shut up. You got what you wanted."

Theo's low chuckle vibrated against your skin as he nuzzled into your cheek. "Oh, I did indeed," he purred, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. "Now, who's next?"

Lorenzo's mischievous grin widened as he turned toward Mattheo, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Truth or Dare, Riddle. You're up."

Mattheo leaned back, stretching lazily before his dark eyes flickered toward Lorenzo. "Dare, of course. Give me something good."

The game spiraled from there, the room filling with laughter and mock indignation as truth after truth was spilled, and dare after dare was accepted with varying degrees of bravado. Lorenzo had Blaise sprinting across the room in his underwear, Pansy revealing a rather scandalous secret about her latest fling, and Mattheo howling in laughter after being dared to serenade one of the portraits on the wall.

It wasn't long, however, before the attention returned to you, and the smirk on Lorenzo's face sent a chill crawling down your spine. His gaze lingered on you for a beat too long before he spoke.

"Y/N," Lorenzo began, the edges of his grin sharp. "I dare you to go up and explore the attic."

The room fell into a heavy silence, all eyes suddenly on you. Your heart clenched, beating too fast as you turned to look at the darkened staircase leading up to the second floor. The attic? You had barely been able to stomach walking through the front doors, let alone venturing into the bowels of the ancient manor—alone.

"Go to the attic... alone?" you repeated, your voice sounding far smaller than you'd intended. The shadows seemed to press closer, thickening the air.

Theo's fingers tightened around your waist, his familiar warmth grounding you for just a moment. You could feel his smirk without needing to look. He loved this, loved teasing you, loved pushing you to your limits just to see how far you'd go. And you hated that it worked every single time.

"Too much for you, love?" he whispered, his breath hot against your neck. "Because I can always come with you." His voice dropped lower, becoming a rumbling hum that sent a shiver racing down your spine. "Just imagine—us, together, in the dark... how thrilling that could be."

Your mouth went dry as his words sent your imagination spinning. You could feel the others watching, waiting for your response, but all you could focus on was the heat of Theo's body against yours and the way his fingers trailed possessively down your arm.

Theo's grin widened as he nipped at your earlobe, voice dark with amusement. "What do you say, Y/N? Want me to hold your hand?"

You huffed, pushing away the growing tension. "Shut up," you muttered again, glaring at him in mock irritation, though the playful twinkle in your eyes betrayed the act.

His hand slid from your waist to your lower back, and he leaned closer, whispering, "If you're too scared to go, just say the word. No shame in admitting it."

Your breath caught as his words lingered between you, a challenge wrapped in seduction. You squared your shoulders, unwilling to let him win. You'd spent far too long playing this game with Theodore Nott, and you weren't about to back down now.

"Fine," you said, louder this time as you stepped away from him, brushing his hands off with a deliberate flourish. "But I'm not going alone." You shot him a pointed look. "You're coming with me."

Theo's smirk softened, the gleam of triumph in his eyes unmistakable. "Of course I am," he murmured.

Lorenzo groaned dramatically from his spot on the couch. "Oh, come on, that's cheating! She's supposed to go by herself."

Mattheo chuckled from the other side of the room, shaking his head. "Let them have their fun. At least one of us might get something out of this trip to hell."

Ignoring the banter, Theo wrapped an arm around your shoulders and steered you toward the staircase. The creaking of the old wood echoed through the hall as you ascended, each step a reminder of the isolation waiting above. The air grew colder, thicker, the musty scent of forgotten years clinging to every surface. The hallway stretched out before you, dimly lit by the moonlight filtering through the cracked windows.

Theo's grip on you tightened as you reached the attic door, its old wooden frame warped and splintered with age. He paused, his hand on the doorknob, glancing at you with a raised brow. "Ready for this, love?" His voice was soft, teasing, but there was something darker flickering in his gaze, something that made your stomach flip in anticipation.

You hesitated, the weight of the dare pressing down on you like the air in the old manor, thick and suffocating. But with Theo by your side, that familiar heat spreading through your veins, you nodded. "Yeah."

With a smirk, Theo twisted the knob and pushed the door open with a loud creak.

The attic yawned before you—dark, dust-choked, and thick with an eerie stillness that made your skin prickle. Cobwebs clung to the rafters, and the only sound was the faint rustle of wind outside, whispering through the cracks in the walls.

You took a tentative step inside, the floorboards groaning beneath your weight. Theo was right behind you, his presence a steadying force as you ventured further into the darkness. Your heartbeat thudded in your ears, each step sending a pulse of adrenaline through your veins.

There was a four-poster bed lying in the middle of the attic, as if the people who lived here all those years ago had used it as a bedroom.

Theo, ever the opportunist, moved closer, running a finger along the edge of the mattress.

"This place really does have a certain charm, doesn't it?" He turned to you, a wicked glint in his eye. "Almost romantic, don't you think?"

Before you could respond, he pulled you onto the bed beside him, the springs creaking under your combined weight. His arms snaked around your waist, pulling you close as he nuzzled your neck.

“Romantic? That’s funny. You’re too horny for your own good, Theodore Nott.”

A low chuckle rumbled in his chest as he leaned in, lips grazing your ear. "Guilty as charged, love. But what can I say? You bring out the worst in me."

His hands roamed your body, tracing the curves of your hips, slipping under your shirt to tease the sensitive skin of your lower back. His touch ignited sparks across your flesh, and you found yourself arching into him, craving more.

With a deft tug, he pulled your shirt off over your head, tossing it carelessly aside. His gaze raked over your exposed torso, lingering on the swell of your breasts tucked away beneath your bra before meeting your eyes with a smoldering intensity. "Beautiful," he breathed, voice husky with desire. "Absolutely stunning."

He pulled back for a moment, swiftly running a hand over his face. “I actually, um… found some pretty interesting things of yours the other day. In your dorm.”

Your eyes narrowed, cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and indignation. “What are you talking about?" you demanded, trying to keep your tone steady despite the sudden rush of heat coursing through your veins at the thought of Theo rummaging through your belongings.

Theo's smile widened, an amused glint dancing in his eyes as he reached into his messenger bag. He pulled out a small pink vibrator, waving it tauntingly before setting it on the bedside table. "This little number, for instance," he purred, leaning in closer, his breath hot against your ear. "I must say, it looks quite impressive."

Next, he produced a purple silicone dildo, holding it aloft like a trophy. "And then there's this... rather large toy you've got stashed away. Quite the collection you've got going on here, love." His gaze flicked back to your face, drinking in your reaction with a knowing smirk.

"How do these magic tricks work, hmm? Do they come with instructions, or are you an expert in carnal delights already?"

You felt your face flush even hotter at the sight of your most intimate belongings being waved around so casually. A surge of anger mixed with humiliation threatened to overwhelm you, but you forced yourself to maintain a facade of nonchalance.

"When did you even find those?” you murmured embarrassedly.

Theo's smirk deepened as he watched the play of emotions across your face—the blush staining your cheeks, the tension in your jaw, the defiant spark in your eyes. It was a delicious combination, one that stirred his blood and set his nerve endings alight with anticipation.

"Last week, when I stayed over at your dorm," he replied casually, as if discussing the weather. "I was looking for some cigs in your nightstand drawer while you were in the shower and well..." He shrugged, a picture of feigned innocence. "They just sort of jumped out at me.”

He traced a finger along the length of the dildo, humming thoughtfully before he moved closer, his fingers trailing up your thigh as he sat on the edge of the bed beside you. "Quite the naughty girl, aren't you, love?" He leaned in, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, tongue delving deep to claim every inch of your mouth.

As he kissed you deeply, Theo's hand slid higher, fingers brushing the waistline of your jeans, unbuttoning them before dipping underneath to caress the smooth skin of your inner thigh. His touch was electric, sending shivers racing up your spine as he teased the sensitive flesh mere inches from your core.

"So, tell me, baby," he murmured against your lips, breaking the kiss to trail his mouth along your jawline, nipping at the tender skin beneath your ear. "You prefer this—" He held up the dildo, wiggling it suggestively, “—fake cock when you have the real thing right here, always ready and willing?"

His fingers continued their maddening exploration, inching closer to the heat of your center with each passing second. His thumb rubbed against your clit through the thin barrier of your underwear, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core. You bit your lip, trying to stifle a moan as he continued to tease you.

"I mean, they're cute and all, but nothing compares to the feel of my cock buried deep inside you, does it?" He leaned in, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered. He gestured to himself, his meaning clear. One hand drifted down to palm the bulge straining against his trousers, a silent invitation, a promise of pleasure.

"Is my girl really that impatient, hm?" he mused, a teasing lilt to his voice. "That she can't just wait for her boyfriend to come and fuck her senseless whenever she needs it?"

His fingers slipped beneath the waistline of your pants once again, teasing along the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. Your breathing hitched as his touch grew bolder, fingertips brushing against your clothed sex with feather-light strokes. The ache between your legs intensified, your panties dampening with each passing second.

He chuckled darkly, the sound vibrating through you like a physical caress. "Using these cheap substitutes instead of demanding what she really wants. Why don’t you give me a little demonstration?"

His hand cupped your mound possessively, applying pressure that made you squirm.

You gasped sharply as Theo's fingers pressed against your aching sex, the contact sending shivers racing down your spine. Your hips bucked involuntarily, seeking more friction, more relief from the throbbing need building within you.

“It’s not like that…” you mumbled. “Just… please…”

"Please what?" Theo arched a brow, a mocking tilt to his lips. "You think you deserve real dick right now after keeping secrets from me? After using toys behind my back like some desperate slut?"

He withdrew his hand abruptly, leaving you aching and empty. Rising from the bed, he stepped back, folding his arms across his chest as he leveled you with a stern look. "Strip. Now. Let's see how much of a show you can put on for me."

Theo's gaze raked over your body, his eyes lingering on the swell of your breasts, the curve of your hips. He licked his lips slowly, deliberately, a predatory gleam in his eye. "Come on, baby. Don’t get shy now. Show me what you've been hiding."

You kicked off your shoes, and as you unclasped your bra, he drank in the sight of your full breasts, nipples pebbling under his heated gaze. Lower still, past the dip of your waist and flare of your hips, until your jeans pooled at your feet, leaving you clad in only a scrap of lace.

“Fuck, look at you," he growled appreciatively, palming the growing hardness in his trousers. "Such a pretty little thing, aren't you? All mine to play with."

He relaxed back on a nearby armchair. "Now then, why don't you show me exactly what these toys of yours can do?"

Theo lounged back in the chair, his eyes never leaving you as you stood there trembling, exposed and vulnerable. A wicked grin spread across his face as he watched you with hooded eyes. “Go on then, sweetheart. Show me how you like to be fucked. Pretend I'm not even here."

As you grasped the dildo, he panted softly, drinking in the sight of your hand wrapped around the smooth plastic. He reached down to adjust his bulge, the fabric of his pants bunching obscenely as he watched you remove your panties.

You leaned back, spreading your legs wide in a lewd display, but you didn’t know what to do with the toy in your hand. Not when he was right in front of you.

A cruel smile played about his lips as he saw the hesitation in your eyes, the reluctance in your movements. "What's wrong, love? Suddenly shy? You weren't shy when you were fucking yourself silly with these, were you?"

With trembling hands, you brought the toy to your lips, flicking your tongue out, tracing the contours, coating it in saliva. Then, you trailed it lower, over your collarbone, between the valley of your breasts. You circled a nipple with the toy's tip, gasping at the sensation.

"There we go. Now, move it down and start rubbing it against your clit. Nice and slow. I want to see you squirm."

He reclined further into the chair, making no move to join you, simply observing your every move with an air of dark amusement.

You whimpered, feeling exposed and humiliated as you followed Theo's instructions. Your cheeks burned with shame as you brought the dildo to your aching sex, rubbing the slick head against your swollen clit.

You bit your lip hard enough to taste blood, fighting back tears of mortification. But beneath the embarrassment, a spark of arousal ignited, fueled by the knowledge that he was watching you so intently.

Your hips began to rock instinctively, the toy gliding through your wet folds, stroking places that made you shudder and moan quietly. You couldn't meet his gaze, too ashamed to see the smug satisfaction in his eyes.

"That’s my girl… Now, put it inside you where it belongs. Fill up that greedy little cunt.”

With a shaky breath, you aligned the dildo with your entrance, pushing it in gradually. Your walls clenched around the intrusion, and you cried out at the feeling. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you forced yourself to relax, letting the toy sink deeper.

"Fuck, look at you taking it like a good little slut," Theo drawled, leaning forward in his chair to get a better view. He reached down to stroke himself lazily, his thumb rubbing circles over the straining bulge in his trousers.

Reaching for the smaller vibrator on the bed beside you, he tossed it onto the sheets. "Pick it up. I want to hear you scream as you cum all over both of them. Show me how well you can multitask."

Your hands shook as you fumbled for the small device, turning it on with a buzzing whine. You positioned it against your clit, the vibrations sending jolts of pleasure through your core. Your hips rolled faster, the dildo thrusting in and out of your stretched hole in rhythm with the toy's relentless stimulation.

“Come on. Make yourself cum while I watch you rut on that toy like a bitch in heat. I want to hear you moaning like the desperate whore you are.”

Theo's eyes gleamed with sadistic glee as he watched you writhe in ecstasy, your moans echoing off the walls. The obscene sounds of your self-pleasure filled the room, mingling with the creaks of the bed and the soft buzzing of the vibrator.

"That's it, baby. Fuck yourself senseless. Show me just how depraved you can be when you're alone with your filthy toys," he sneered, stroking himself harder through his trousers.

As the pleasure built to a fever pitch, your inner muscles clamped down on the dildo, milking it for all it was worth. With a keening wail, you came undone, your whole body shaking as wave after wave of intense orgasm crashed over you.

"You're so beautiful when you lose control like that," Theo purred.

He sat up straighter in his chair, his eyes burning with a dark hunger as he watched you collapse back onto the bed, spent and panting. "Look at you, covered in sweat and cum... Such a lovely mess."

He rose slowly, unbuckling his belt and freeing his aching cock. It sprang forth, thick and pulsing, already leaking precum. With a wicked grin, he climbed onto the bed, positioning himself between your splayed thighs.

Theo grabbed your wrists roughly, pulling them above your head and securing them to the headboard with silky ropes. He repeated the process with your ankles, spreading your legs obscenely wide and tying them to the footposts.

"Just relax, love. This won't hurt a bit," he murmured, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he bound your wrists above your head to the headboard.

Once you were completely immobilized, he stepped back to admire his work, licking his lips as he drank in the sight of your helpless, exposed body.

"I think it's time I took my turn playing with you," he rasped, trailing a finger along your slick slit. "Open up for me, sweetheart. Let me fill this greedy cunt with something real."

Theo's fingers probed your dripping entrance, circling the rim before pushing inside. He groaned low in his throat at the feel of your velvety walls clenching around him. "Fuck, you're still so tight... Even after all that."

He worked two fingers deep, pumping them slowly as he watched your face contort with pleasure. His thumb found your sensitive clit, rubbing firm circles over the bud. "I bet you'd love to have my cock instead, wouldn't you? To feel me splitting you open, filling you up until you can't take anymore?"

His voice dropped to a husky whisper. "Tell me you need it. Beg me to fuck you raw."

Your chest heaved with ragged breaths, your body trembling from the aftershocks of your intense climax. As Theo's fingers delved into your sensitive flesh, you bit your lip hard, trying to stifle the moans that threatened to spill free.

His words sent a shiver down your spine, the image of him replacing those fingers with his thick, throbbing cock making your pussy clench hungrily. You wanted it, craved the sensation of being stretched and filled beyond capacity.

"Yes," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart. "Please, I need it. I need you inside me."

Theo smirked as he heard your breathy pleas, his ego swelling at the power he held over you. “Such a dirty, needy girl for me, aren’t you?”

With a growl of triumph, he lined himself up, the blunt head of his member nudging insistently at your entrance. In one swift motion, he hilted himself inside you, stretching you deliciously around his thick girth.

"Fuck!" he snarled, pulling nearly all the way out before slamming back in. The bed frame rattled with each powerful thrust, the obscene sound of flesh smacking against flesh filling the room. Theo set a brutal pace, pounding into you with single-minded focus, determined to make you scream.

Theo's hand shot down beside your body, grasping the vibrator. He turned it up to its highest setting, the intense vibrations making your entire pelvis quiver.

"This should really get you going, doesn't it?" he sneered, grinding the toy against your clit with each punishing thrust. "Feeling my cock splitting you open while this thing eats at your poor little pussy..."

His words were punctuated by the lewd slap of skin on skin as he continued to rail into you, his heavy balls slapping against your ass with each brutal stroke. The dual sensations of the vibrator and his cock driving into you relentlessly pushed you closer and closer to the edge.

Your body jerked violently as the vibrator hit full force, the intense vibrations making your clit throb in time with Theo's merciless thrusts. The restraints held you in place, forcing you to submit to every punishing stroke, every deep, grinding push against your cervix.

Pleasure and pain blurred together, the overwhelming sensations threatening to short-circuit your mind. Tears streamed down your face, your vision blurring at the edges as you teetered on the brink of another explosive orgasm.

Your toes curled, your back arching as much as the bonds would allow, trying to take him even deeper.

You cried out, writhing around, the restraints holding you back as he used you mercilessly, tears pricking your eyes. His free hand grabbed at your tits, roughly squeezing them as his thumb flicked over your nipple.

"Don't hold back now, cum for me, pretty girl," Theo commanded, his own climax rapidly approaching.

Theo felt your walls spasming wildly around him, signaling your impending orgasm. He redoubled his efforts, pistoning into you with ruthless intensity as the vibrator buzzed against your clit.

"That's it, baby, make a mess for me,” he muttered, his own release coiling tightly in his abdomen.

Your cry of ecstasy echoed through the room as you shattered, convulsing beneath him in the throes of an intense climax. Theo rode out your waves of pleasure, prolonging your orgasm with deliberate thrusts.

Just as he was about to crest the peak himself, he abruptly pulled out, leaving you empty and aching. With a few quick strokes, he spilled his seed across your stomach and chest, painting you in his essence.

Theo collapsed beside you on the bed, chest heaving as he caught his breath. After a moment, he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you against his side.

"I love you, baby.” He pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, his touch soothing as he wiped a strand of sweat-dampened hair from your face. “Let’s clean you up.” And with a flick of his wand, the white fluids covering you were gone.

“Our friends probably think we’re dead by now, you know. We’ve been up here for so long,” you murmured.

“Darling, I’m pretty sure they’re smart enough to know that the screaming coming from up here wasn’t because of ghosts.”

kinktober taglist: @mattheoriddles-slutt @theeslutintheroom @esmerai-artemis @gigival @cloudyyydayzzz @sn000py @abeoavita @yesiamthatwierd @shaquilles-0atmeal @roseofsharron438 @iouinotes @romantasyreader28 @c3liaaaaa @daenerystorgaryen @emma-grace0 @tori-303 @ilovehpb0ys

© leona-hawthorne 2025. please do not copy, translate or repost any of my writing.

[daisydrabbles]

Maybe it's the Moonlight

- Theo Nott x Female Reader

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

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

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

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

Word count: 3.1k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

��Hey I needed tha- what?’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was very noticeable.

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

He had other ideas.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Exactly!’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘With what?’ you eyed him skeptically.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘That was correct, clever girl.’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Please what?’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Do it. Let go. Cum for me.’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Same time tomorrow.’

[prythiansprincess]

MOONLIGHT

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🤍 pairing: theodore nott x reader.

🤍 song inspiration: moonlight by kali uchis.

🤍 author's note: high! theo is the best kind of theo. gif credit to @dramaticals

A thick cloud of smoke permeated the air, making the room as hazy as your drug addled mind. Theo shifted in your lap and silently held the joint up to your lips. You smiled down at your best friend, his watercolour eyes as red-rimmed as your own yet still full of that familiar sharp intensity as he watched you with curious intent. Wrapping your lips around the blunt, you shied away from his gaze and inhaled generously. 

As the smoke filled your lungs, you felt your body relax. With an exhale, the terrible day you endured was gone in a breath. You rested against the headboard and let your eyes shut close. Theo traced circles on your skin, happily humming away while you scratched his head. Smoking always made the two of you more touchy and giggly, blurring the lines even more than they already were. 

Not that you were complaining.

A late night smoke session was exactly what you needed. Usually, the two of you would be indulging in Neville’s newest strain up in the Astronomy Tower, but thanks to the storm raging outside, you and Theo were confined to his dorm instead. 

In all honesty, you didn’t mind. Especially since Theo had a generous stash of snacks to pilfer through. 

“This new shit is strong,” Theo remarked, coughing a bit as he waved away the smoke. Above you, rain drops pelted the skylight in a soothing rhythm. “How does Longbottom even come up with this stuff?” 

“Because,” you drawled, every syllable slow and syrupy. “Neville actually pays attention in Herbology instead of skipping class and getting into fights.” 

“That’s the pot calling the kettle black, bella,” Theo pouted as he poked his nose against your stomach. “Didn’t you get detention for taking a swing at Cho this morning?” 

“She called me a slag,” you recalled with a frown. While you had no problem with Cho, she seemed to have a problem with you. All thanks to a certain Hufflepuff. Theo tensed underneath you, his anger simmering beneath the surface. “As if it’s my fault her boyfriend can’t stop staring at my arse.” 

“You should’ve told me. I would’ve taken care of it.”

You sighed deeply. “That’s exactly why I didn’t tell you, Teddy. You tend to be a little overdramatic.” 

“Me?” Theo asked incredulously as he placed the joint on its holder. “Overdramatic? That’s absolutely absurd.” 

“I know you hated Cedric. When we were dating, he told me you threatened to beat his face in if he ever broke my heart.” Your best friend began to protest, but you held your hand up. You didn't fault him for being overprotective. After all, you've been friends with Theo long enough to know that this is just how he showed that he cared. “I'm not mad. I just didn’t want to add fuel to the fire.” 

“That stupid prat poured gasoline on the fire and lit the goddamn match the day he made you cry.” Theo ranted, his eyes glazing over with fury. “I should've made good on my promise to beat his fucking face in. He’s lucky you stopped me before I sent him to the infirmary.”

"It's not worth it, Teddy."

Your best friend shook his head. "It's always worth it when it comes to you."

“You shouldn’t get into trouble just because I have terrible taste in men.” Time and time again, Theo warned you about the guys you chose to date, but you were too stubborn to listen. You laughed humorlessly. “I really know how to pick them, don’t I?”

“Hey,” Theo whispered softly, tracing soothing circles on your back. “It’s not your fault your ex-boyfriend’s a prick. He’s an idiot for fumbling you.” 

You smiled as you ran your fingers through his hair. “Thanks, Teddy.” He hummed and squeezed your hip. “It’s not like I’m that broken up about it. I’ve just come to accept the fact that my love life is a complete shit show.” 

“That bad, huh?” 

“Don’t get me wrong, Cedric had his moments, but even when things were good, it always felt like something was missing. We just weren’t compatible,” you paused as you considered your words. “Cedric and I weren’t a good match. Mentally, emotionally, and physically.” 

Theo cocked his head curiously. “What do you mean?” 

Given your longstanding friendship and history, there were virtually no secrets between you and Theo, but there were aspects of your past relationship with Cedric that you weren’t as forthcoming about. Your best friend wasn’t exactly your ex-boyfriend’s biggest fan, so you skimped out on on the details to keep the peace. That was long gone now.

“Our sex life was kind of…bland.” 

Piercing blue eyes zeroed in on you. “What do you mean by bland?” Theo pushed himself upright, his face mere inches away from yours. “Was it just missionary and a polite handshake afterwards? Honestly, Diggory seems like the type.” 

You snorted in response. Theo wasn’t that far off the mark. “Basically, yeah. I just don’t think we were sexually compatible. Plus, he never wanted to go down on me.” 

Theo looked absolutely appalled. “What?” 

“Well, we tried and it didn’t really work. It’s not his fault, though. Oral just doesn’t do it for me. I’ve never…” you flushed as you rushed past the embarrassment of admitting such intimate details to your best friend. “I’ve never finished that way. I think it’s just a me problem.” 

“Let me get this straight,” Theo said matter-of-factly. “Cedric ate you out once, couldn’t make you cum, and then made you think it was somehow your fault?” 

“Cedric wasn’t a dick about it or anything,” you said rather lamely. “He just never tried again, so I figured that was that.” 

“That’s a fucking shame.” 

You shrugged. The past was in the past. It wasn’t like you could change things now. “It’s alright. Like I said, maybe it’s just not for me.” 

Theo stared at you. “You’re just saying that because he didn’t do his job properly.” 

You rolled your eyes in response, playfully smacking his arm. “And you’re suddenly an expert on the matter, Teddy?”

“I sure am,” Theo exclaimed proudly. “Cedric’s a coward for backing out after the first try. I mean, sure, it took me ages to get the hang of it, but now eating pussy is my favorite thing in the world.” 

Heat flooded your cheeks. Part of it was shock and the other — well, you didn’t want to think of what that other part might mean. Talking about sex wasn’t anything new for the two of you, but it was always in a teasing way. It was never quite this personal. 

“Oh,” you said after a moment. Theo watched as you shifted, trying to alleviate the building pressure between your legs. “I didn’t realize…” 

“That I love eating pussy?” Theo asked with a smirk. You knew he was doing it on purpose. He never missed out on the chance to tease you. “I’m really fucking good at it too.” 

You didn’t doubt it. While you tried not to feed into the rumors of your best friend’s bedroom habits, you knew that he was much more experienced than you were. Judging by the longing stares that followed in his wake, Theo wasn't the type to leave his lover unsatisfied.

After a moment, Theo spoke. “I can show you,” he rasped, that thick Italian accent of his bleeding through the words like it did every time he smoked. “If you’d like.” 

You blinked in surprise, practically gaping at your best friend. “You want to eat me out?” 

Theo nodded, his eyes dipping to your mouth as you anxiously chewed on your bottom lip. “More than anything in the fucking world.” 

The intensity of his gaze sent a shiver down your spine. “Let me show you how it’s done, bella,” Theo whispered as he tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear. Though the action was innocent, his words were far from. “I’d get on my knees and beg for a taste of you. I promise not to stop until you’re a crying, whining mess for me.” 

Desire bloomed in your core, filling your stomach with butterflies. Fuck, why was that the hottest thing anyone’s ever said to you? What were you supposed to do? Refuse? That wasn’t even a possibility at the moment. After all, you were just a weak, weak woman. 

“Okay.” 

“Okay?” Theo asked softly. 

“Yeah,” you answered confidently. “I trust you, Teddy.” 

Theo smiled and leaned forward to place a kiss on your temple. “Good girl,” he murmured. “Now lay back, I’ll make you feel so good, bella.” 

A nod was all that you could muster as you settled amongst the pillows, watching with rapt attention as Theo crawled between your legs. He kept his gaze on you as he kissed your neck, his lips soft and warm against your skin. You leaned into his touch as he licked along your collarbone, his big hands slipping underneath your bra. Theo unclasped it quickly, nosing at the straps before kissing down the valley of your breasts.

Those dead eyes came to life as he flicked his tongue over your nipples, sucking on them until they stiffened. You shuddered in response and Theo savored the tiny whimper that slipped past your lips. After showing your breasts ample attention, he continued mouthing at your torso, nipping and biting on the way down. Every sensation was heightened by the weed, your body buzzing even at the simplest touch. 

Theo parted your legs and maintained eye contact as he toyed with the tops of your knee socks. He smirked and kissed the spot right above them. “We’ll keep these on, yeah? I like when you wear these.” 

You held your breath when he bunched up your skirt, leaving filthy, open-mouthed kisses on the inside of your thighs. His breath felt cool on your core yet your entire body ignited into flames as Theo kissed you through your lace panties. 

You gasped in surprise, bucking your hips against his mouth. “Oh, fuck…” 

Theo hummed against you. “Does that feel good, principessa? I haven’t even started yet.” 

With a cocky smirk, Theo slid off your panties and groaned. You were embarrassingly wet, but he didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he relished it. Theo teased two fingers along your folds, spreading your arousal and watching as your slick soaked him. 

“Fuck, you’re so wet.” His eyes were nearly black, swallowed by lust as they flickered up to your face. “I bet you’re sweet too.” 

Theo popped his fingers into his mouth, pretty eyes rolling back as he sucked them clean. “Gods, you’re so fucking delicious. Better than I imagined.” 

You whimpered, pressing your thighs together to tamper the need. Theo shook his head before prying your legs apart and diving in. When he dragged his tongue through your folds, you writhed underneath him, eager for more. The first lick had both of you moaning. He hummed in appreciation as he hooked your legs behind his shoulders. 

He chuckled darkly, before biting softly at the flesh of your thigh. “You like that, huh, bella?” 

You panted, frowning down at him. “Stop being a tease, Teddy.” 

“As you wish.” 

His dark head disappeared between your legs, silky brown waves slipping through your fingers as you held on for dear life. Theo wasted no time in showing off his skills, poking and prodding with his tongue. You tugged at his hair as he sucked on your clit, lightly grazing his teeth against the sensitive bundle of nerves. 

Theo popped up to take a hit off the joint before passing it over to you. His slender fingers held them up to your lips before slinking down to continue eating you out. As you held the smoke in your lungs, you inhaled deeply, letting the drug that was Theodore Nott singe your veins. 

Nothing in this world could've prepared you for this moment. Theo wasn't exaggerating his skills. If anything, he underplayed just how good he was. Theo switched strategies often, starting off slow and sweet before swirling and sucking, fucking you with his tongue like he’d never get another chance to taste you again. Once in a while, he’d come up for air, smiling as you offered the joint to him. 

Mostly, Theo was focused on feasting. He made out with your pussy shamelessly, making it as sloppy and messy as he possibly could. The higher you got, the more sensitive everything felt. When Theo found a particularly sensitive spot, you arched your back and nearly scorched his sheets with the joint. 

Theo only chuckled before taking it from your hands and putting it out. “You’re on fire, bella. But I’d prefer if my sheets weren’t.” 

You smiled shyly. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to.” 

He flashed a boyish grin back. “The only thing I’m sorry about is that we didn’t do this sooner.” 

“Me too, Teddy.”

He smiled softly at you. “Sei la donna più bella che abbia mai visto.” 

Before you got the chance to ask what he said, Theo pulled you by the ankles and picked up where he left off. He made good on his promise, driving you to the brink until you were writhing and whining. Tears streaked down your cheeks as you gasped, moaning his name in the night like a prayer. It only encouraged Theo to show off even more, using a combination of his mouth and fingers. His middle and pointer finger slid inside of you easily, squelching while he worked you tirelessly. 

There wasn’t a single coherent thought in your mind as you lost yourself to pleasure. When Theo introduced a third finger and flicked his tongue on your clit, a rush of heat flooded your body. 

“Oh gods, Theo. Please. I’m so close. Fuck — ” 

“C’mon, cara mia. Cum for me.” 

Theo watched as your orgasm rocked you from the top of your head to the bottom of your feet. He lapped you up like a man starved, not wasting a single drop. You tried to fight the overstimulation by squirming away from his mouth, but Theo merely held your hips down. 

“I’m not done,” Theo warned with a growl. “Stay still, principessa. You wanted me to eat your pussy? Then be brave enough to fucking take it.” 

When he brought you to your second orgasm, you were gasping for air. You roughly tugged at Theo’s hair, eliciting a filthy moan from him. Despite this, Theo was still decidedly not done. As the third orgasm approached, you screamed before squirting and soaking right through the sheets. 

With wide eyes, Theo stared up at you. “Have you ever done that before?”

You flushed, embarrassment heating your cheeks as you shook your head. “No — I — I didn’t even know I could do that.”

Your best friend smiled, brushing your hair back gently as though he hadn’t just made you see Merlin. “Did it feel good?”

“Yes,” you admitted. “Was it okay? I mean, was that too much? Oh god, I’m sorry.”

“No,” Theo said in a stern voice as he tipped your chin up. “Don’t ever apologize. That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. I like knowing that I’m the only man that’s ever made you squirt.”

“You’re not mad?” You sniffled, lower lip trembling. “I ruined your sheets.”

“Fuck the sheets." He caressed your cheek, gazing deeply into your eyes. "It's still me. Your Teddy. There's nothing that you could do that would make me mad. You're perfect, Y/N."

Theo kissed you softly, his lips pressed firmly against yours to emphasize the words. He was your Teddy. He always would be.

"You're really good at that, by the way."

Your best friend smirked, the cocky grin tugging at his lips. "Oh yeah? I couldn't tell by the way you kept screaming my name."

You rolled your eyes. "I'm not going to compliment you if you're going to be so cocky about it."

He cocked a brow before kissing the sweet spot beneath your ear. "What are you going to do about it, principessa?"

"No fair. You play dirty, Theo."

Your best friend smiled, taking in your flushed cheeks and kiss bitten lips. In one swift move, Theo pinned you underneath him. "I'll show you just how dirty I can get, bella."

He wrapped a hand around your throat possessively and pulled you in for a kiss. You moaned into his mouth, dizzy with desire. Theo slid his tongue against yours and claimed you with a groan. 

"This — this is what it should feel like. This is what Cedric failed to do. That stupid prick should’ve worshipped the ground you walked on, but he didn’t. He missed his chance. It’s my turn now.”

Wrapping your legs around his waist, Theo squeezed your ass as he grinded his erection against your core. Even through his sweatpants, you could feel how big he was. You bucked your hips in response, rubbing against him for more friction. 

“Oh fuck, don’t do that,” Theo panted breathlessly. “I won’t be able to stop.” 

“Who said I wanted you to stop, Theo?” 

Theo cursed up a storm, a mixture of Italian and English that sounded equally hot. “I want you so fucking bad. You’re all I ever want, Y/N.” 

You smiled up at him, placing a sweet kiss on his lips. “Then have me, Teddy.” 

It was like a flip switched inside of him. Theo crashed his lips against yours, frantically tugging your skirt off as you pushed his sweatpants down. They were barely halfway off before he was lining up at your entrance. 

Theo pressed his forehead against yours. “Deep breaths, baby.” 

Though you were sufficiently warmed up, you knew it was still going to be a stretch. His tip was barely in and you were already gasping for breath.

“Theo, fuck. Oh my god.” You clawed at his back as he inched inside. “You’re so big. I can’t — “ 

“You can, principessa. I know you can. We’ll make it fit, yeah?” Theo stroked your cheek, giving you time to adjust. “So fucking tight. I can feel you stretching to take all of me. Just a little more,” he slid in further, watching your expression intently to ensure that he wasn’t hurting you. “That’s it. Good girl.” 

When Theo finally filled you to the hilt, he pressed down on your stomach, marveling at the tight fit. You whimpered in response, clenching around his cock and making him groan. 

“Can I move, principessa?” 

Tears filled your eyes, but you wiped them away and nodded bravely. “Yes.” 

To his credit, Theo went sweet and slow as you adjusted to his size. He seemed attuned to what you liked and what you didn’t like even without having to utter a word. You weren’t surprised. Theo had always known you better than you knew yourself.

It took some time, but eventually the pain subsided to give way to pleasure. You kissed Theo as he thrusted into you, feeling every delicious inch of him sliding in and out of your pussy. He was going slow for your benefit, but your impatience craved more. It turns out that when it came to Theo, you were an all or nothing kind of woman. 

“Theo, please,” you pleaded through tears. “Please, I need more. I need all of you.” 

A feral expression crossed Theo’s handsome features before he hiked your ankles over his shoulders and drove in harder. His thrusts were deep and punishing, setting your teeth on edge as he fucked you into the mattress. Theo pinned your arms above your head, watching himself slam into you again and again. 

“I love watching your pretty cunt take all of me,” he murmured, intertwining your fingers together. “You’re a fucking goddess, baby. Dea mia, I’ll worship at your altar.”

“It’s never — I’ve never felt like this with anyone else,” you admitted.

Theo softened, his tender gaze drinking you in. “It’s never felt like this with anyone else for me either, bella.” 

You pulled him down for a deep kiss, the intimacy of the act surpassing lust and physical attraction. A spark awakened within you, like finally accepting an inevitable truth. 

The thread snapped and you allowed it to wash over you like a wave, the orgasm even more intensified than the first three. Theo followed soon after, panting into your neck as he emptied himself inside of you. He whispered your name, collapsing beside you when he finished. 

The two of you lay side by side, stunned into silence. You felt breathless and boneless, not quite believing that you just had the most mind blowing sex with your best friend. 

Theo glanced over at you. You glanced back at him. The two of you burst into a fit of giggles, breaking the tension. 

“Well, fuck.” 

He rolled over on his side, tracing your lips with his thumb. “Is that good or bad, tesoro?”

“Good. Definitely good.”

Theo smiled and kissed you softly. 

“I meant what I said,“ you breathed as he pulled you to his side. “I’ve never felt like that with anyone else.” 

“I know, bella.” Theo hummed in agreement, snaking an arm possessively around your waist. “You were made for me. Just like I was made for you.” 

“You knew it would feel like that?” 

He grinned. “I had an inkling.” 

“What did I tell you about teasing me?” 

“I’m not,” he said earnestly. “I knew it would be you since the moment we met.” 

The realization from earlier reared its head as you snuggled against him. “We’ve never been just friends, have we?” 

Theo shook his head. “Not for a single second, dea mia.”

[cherrixpie]

TO DIE IN YOUR ARMS TONIGHT

-> when his sister attends a slughorn party with a date, mattheo asks his best friend to watch over her at the party, oblivious to the fact that theo is exactly the type of guy he wants to protect her from.

-> brother's bsf!theodore nott x riddle!reader; eventual nsfw; minors dni; cw: attempted harassment, mentions of violence, self-doubt, smut; nsfw tags: oral fem receiving, soft dom!theo, dirty talk, lots of praise; sadly there was some error with the tags and I couldn't tag some people, but I still hope you all found your way here!

( masterlist )

The Astronomy Tower loomed high above the castle grounds, bathed in the silver glow of the moon. It reflected against the fragile stargazing instruments and illuminated hastily drawn star charts, carelessly left behind on desks. The parchment swayed gently in the light breeze. A chill clung to the stone, the wind whispering through the open archways, carrying the faint scent of night-blooming flowers from the greenhouses below.

Occasional gusts of wind ruffled the edges of Theo’s robes as he leaned against the stone railing, lazily rolling a cigarette between his fingers. The flick of his lighter cast a brief, golden glow across his sharp features- dark brows drawn in quiet focus, the angle of his jaw, the faint shadow of his curls. The ember flared as he took a slow drag, exhaling a thin stream of smoke into the cold night air.

The hurried sound of footsteps echoed from the stairwell, unmistakable, even if it hadn't been a nightly recurrence. Theo didn’t turn; he didn’t need to. He knew that stride, the way it carried that reckless edge of carelessness, like the world bent around its owner rather than the other way around. When Mattheo stepped into the moonlight, Theo paid him no mind.

As usual, he displayed quite a different way of carrying himself compared to Theo, as many fates the two boys might have shared. Mattheo’s dark curls were disheveled, his tie loosened to a proletarian extent and the top buttons of his shirt were undone, as if he hadn't bothered with them in the first place.

Upon spotting Theo’s dark figure against the railing, he strode towards him and leaned his forearms against the metal as well. “You’re early,” Mattheo muttered, his voice low and rough around the edges. Not that he had checked the clock, but their nightly habit of going for a smoke to the astronomy tower was so well established even the slightest changes stood out like a sore thumb.

Turning around to lean his back against the balustrade instead, Mattheo shoved his hands into his pockets and tilted his head slightly until Theo glanced back at him. Not even Theodore Nott’s cold demeanor could deter Mattheo from flashing a grin and indicating the burning cigarette dangling from his fingers. “Got another?” He caught the pack of smokes when Theo threw it over with the aim of an experienced chaser, and shook out one to light it and take a long drag out of it. The smoke from his cigarette mingled with the cloud curling lazily from the other’s lips and disappeared into the night.

For a few minutes, there was a silence, though not uncomfortable. Rather established, like they had practiced it a million times before. Which wasn’t that far from the truth. Only, today, something was different. As Theo's observant eyes spared Mattheo's oddly tense figure another quick glance, they didn't miss the way he squeezed the smoke tightly in his hand and tapped his fingers against his thigh in an irregular, agitated rhythm. He wasn’t one to pry, a quality he knew Mattheo appreciated about his company, so he simply took another drag of his cigarette and waited for the other to reveal the source of his irritation.

As he’d thought, he didn’t have to wait long- Mattheo had a certain need for communication, at least with him. “Do you know that Campbell guy?” he asked gruffly, clear disdain laced into his tone. When Theo’s brows furrowed, Mattheo twisted his cigarette in impatience, causing embers to rain down upon the stone floor where they faded into darkness. Since Mattheo wasn’t bloody for once, Theo could only assume Campbell still had it coming for him. “Bloke from Gryffindor. Seventh year. Ring a bell?” he elaborated darkly and glared at one of the instruments.

It did. Terry Campbell, a Gryffindor with the head of a bowling ball and the intellect of a demented slug. No wonder he had felt no desire to remember him by name, Campbell was everything he despised cramped into a single person: a loud-mouthed, ignorant, vainglorious and utterly unintelligent Buffoon, lacking all forms of taste, too loud to listen and to dumb to learn. The sort of person that tended to irritate and bore him at the same time, the worst combination for Theo.

Blowing another stream of smoke into the frail moonlight, he let out a small scoff. “What about him?”

“Well,” Mattheo pressed through gritted teeth, in a particularly bitter tone. “He’s taking my sister to Slughorn’s party on Saturday.”

Fuck no.

Instead of smoke, Theo seemed to have swallowed a mouthful of ice as his insides twisted like a vice. A sick, burning coiled in his cut as he turned, abruptly, to Mattheo, full of disbelief. “What?” he asked sharply, all sophistication forgotten in the wake of this news. There was no way in hell you were going to Slughorn’s party with Terry Campbell, your brother had to be joking. Merlin, how he desperately wished he was.

Mattheo seemed to share the sentiment, judging by the looks of his bitter curl of lip and the way he flicked his cigarette to the ground, grinding his boot down on it hard. “Yeah,” he muttered gloomily. “I can’t fucking believe it, I though she had some standards. I’m telling you, she’s just picked him to annoy me!”

But his raging fell on deaf ears as Theo turned away and stared down on the greenhouses, a sharp, ugly weight settling in his chest. No reaction too intense could betray the surge of hate that was welling up inside him, or your brother would know, would piece it together… Brutal, white-hot anger pulsed through him, but Theo kept his hands still and his features unmoved, safe for a subtle clench of his jaw. Theo had mastered the art of keeping his composure, but he was faced with a challenge now.

You. Going to one of Slughorn’s stupid parties with Terry Campbell of all people. He squeezed the smoke out between his fingers, the embers burning into his fingertips and the pain helped him to regain his self control.

Unlike him, you’d taken advantage of your invitation to go to Slughorn’s parties before, but you’d never had a date. If Theo was honest with himself, he wouldn’t have taken kindly to anyone taking you out on a date, quite the opposite, but he couldn’t believe that someone like you would lower themselves onto Campbell’s level. He’s pretty popular, a small voice remarked, but he shut it up immediately- you were everything but shallow. Even insinuating it was ridiculous. But what on earth were you thinking?

Maybe Campbell was the only boy at school you wouldn’t feel sorry for when he inevitably landed in the hospital wing- as the few dates you’d ever had had done after Mattheo found out about them. ‘She’s not yours’ the voice in the back of his head reminded him, ‘you have no right to meddle in who she’s dating’. And it was true. Unlike your brother, Theo still had enough sense to remind himself that you could do what you wanted, could date who you wanted, could take anyone you wanted to Slughorn’s party. It was your decision, as much as he hated it, detested the very thought. He knew you, you had to have put some thought into your decision.

“Listen, mate,” Mattheo said, striking a new tone. He now seemed strangely business-like, leaning over on the railing and looking to meet Theo’s gaze. “‘M not part of Slughorn’s club. I know you hate his parties, but-”

Theo sensed where he was going with this and grabbed his pack of cigarettes back from Mattheo, taking one out before storing it deep in his coat pocket. Damn it, he’d promised you only to smoke one per smoking session. But these were quite challenging circumstances to keep up his promises. As he flicked the lighter and ignited the smoke dangling from his lips, Mattheo leaned in conspiratorially.

“Fucking hell, you know I wouldn’t be asking you this if I saw another way! Come on, you’re almost as bad as me when it comes to watching out for her. So when I’m not there? Go full big-brother mode.”

Theo’s lips curled sarcastically as he huffed out another cloud of smoke. Little did your brother know that his protectiveness over you didn’t stem from any platonic or even sibling-like urges. Little did Mattheo know that Theo was one of the boys he would love to approach with a club, one of the boys who enjoyed your company a little too much, whose eyes lingered on your lips when you laughed, who relished even your most fleeting touches and glances. Who pictured feeling your lips on his in moments of every-day boredom and trusted the night with his dark, guilty dreams of worshipping you like you deserved, fucking you stupid, having you writhe and moan in his sheets.

“I’m not saying you should start something,” Mattheo pressed on, oblivious to the raging self-loathing of his best mate. “Just… don’t let him get too comfortable.” His gaze darkened. “I just need someone there where I know that, if Campbell so much as lays a hand on her wrong, he’s leaving in worse shape than he arrived.” When he could draw out neither reaction nor response from Theo, he groaned in exasperation. “Merlin, Nott, you and I both know she’s too damn nice for this.”

The conflicting desires to keep an eye on Campbell around you on the one, and suppressing his possessiveness on the other hand were grappling with each other, as Theo stared down to the large black mass that was the dark forest. Adding to that that, he didn’t know how much his composure might waver when subjected to the sight of you laughing and dancing with another guy. And one so utterly undeserving of your attention and kindness, at that.

But Mattheo did have a point; though, as so often, he had a crude way of expressing it. You were too kind for your own good, too vulnerable to being taken advantage of. Yet, you were smart and good at seizing up situations, and if Campbell attempted to manipulate you - provided he even had one brain cell for something like subtlety - you’d see right through him.

“Come on, mate, she’s my little sister,” said Mattheo seriously and Theo turned to him with a raised brow.

“She’s two minutes older than you.”

Mattheo rolled his eyes, seemingly unconcerned with such feeble matters as time or birth order. “Yeah,” he admitted begrudgingly, “But, like, mentally.” To emphasize his point, he tapped his index finger against his temple to indicate just where the true age lay.

But Theo’s unimpressed brow only rose higher as he scoffed. “Non fare il rompicazzo. She’s also way more mature than you,” he added, unwilling to get into whatever line of argumentations Mattheo had strung together to justify his feelings.

“Not with boys!” exclaimed Mattheo heatedly and pushed against the railing, making Theo shake his head in annoyance. These antics were absolutely childish, he’d trust your judgement over your brothers any day, irrespective of the fact that he was his closest friend.

“And how many boys did you sleep with?” he drawled, blowing out another gust if smoke that swirled and danced in the air above. For a split second, it balled up and formed a shape suspiciously resembling your face before Theo got his instinctive magic back under control.

Mattheo hadn’t looked up, too busy with snapping at him: “I am one! I know how they think!” His glare was now directed at Theo, who paid it no mind, rolling his words around in his head. Mattheo had a point. It wasn’t like he himself didn’t know how desirable you were, how seductive, by doing nothing more than existing, though he may have been prejudiced by his feelings for you.

But it wasn’t merely the way he knew he would look at you, at your smile that he didn’t deserve, Theo knew that there were certain boys at this school who wouldn’t mind having their way with you, just to brag to their friends about having had the Dark Lord’s daughter, the unapproachable, rigorously protected Slytherin princess as some had named you- much to your displeasure. Both Mattheo and him had retraced rumors of this talk where they could and made any boy who saw you as nothing more than a challenge, a piece of meat, regret his very existence. Theo didn’t know if Campbell was one of them, but he was definitely thick enough to qualify.

And what if he did force you to do something you didn’t want to? His jaw clenched impossibly tight, close to snapping as he banned the unwelcome images from his head and balled his fists around the smoke, making embers fly and get picked up by a sudden breeze. “Get out of my head, Riddle,” he threatened and felt the uncomfortable ick subside, but the very same determination shone in Mattheo’s eyes when he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Go to the damn party and keep an eye on her,” he countered. “Please.” The last word, he barely managed to grit out and Theo’s eyes snapped up at him in surprise. Never had he known his best mate to ask for something, Mattheo was one to take, take, take. But the desperation of his situation seemed to drive him to new extremes.

This fact, if nothing else, made him rethink his previous stance. You didn’t have to know, after all. And wasn’t it really also the fact that he had no ambitions to spend the evening watching you laugh and dance with another man, longing to be the one to hold your hand and make you smile, yearning to be the one you dressed up all pretty for?

“Alright,” he finally sighed and Mattheo, moods changing so quickly it would’ve given any other whiplash, hit the air with his fist and patted Theo’s shoulder roughly.

“Knew I could count on you.”

It wasn’t as if you lit up in his presence- no, that would be ridiculous. It was just that his mattress was much more comfortable than yours, his rome tidier despite the constant stacks of books, his presence a steady rock of the kind that made the world outside seem a little less violent.

Or maybe, if you were being honest with yourself, it was the way his breathing filled the quiet, unhurried and even, grounding you without even trying. The way he always stretched out opposite you on his four-poster, all long legs and quiet confidence, never filling the comfortable silence with pointless chatter. Or maybe it was simply the way he made you feel- something warm, something steady, yet fluttering curiously from time to time, like the wings on a butterfly. Something you didn’t dare think about too closely.

Theo leaned back against the headboard, long legs stretched out, one ankle crossed over the other as he absentmindedly tapped his quill against the open pages of his book. He wasn’t reading- not really. His eyes flicked over the words without taking them in, his focus instead drifting to the steady scratch of your quill beside him, the way you chewed on it in thought, completely absorbed in the history of magic essay you were writing.

The windows he’d enchanted for you when you’d mentioned how the lack of natural light in Slytherin house weighed on your state of mind sometimes allowed the rays of an afternoon sun to spill across the bed in hazy streaks, catching on the sharp angles of his jaw, the slight furrow of his brow as he exhaled through his nose, shifting slightly. It was comfortable, familiar- the two of you working in the quiet, legs brushing every now and then as books and parchment lay scattered around on the bed.

You finished your essay with a winning final sentence you knew Professor Binns would not be able to appreciate and looked up from the parchment for the first time in an hour, only to find Theo’s eyes flicking down to his page once more, like a kid caught ogling candy bars it wasn’t allowed to touch. His book lay open on his lap, but you could tell he wasn’t reading- his eyes skimmed the words too quickly, his fingers drummed too idly against the pages.

Rolling onto your backside, you let your legs dangle off the bed and enjoyed the relief of tension in your lower back. Your eyes rested upon him, as if daring him to steal another glance at you and betray himself and his faux reading. But he seemed to sense the silent challenge and didn’t look up from the pages once, though you thought you saw the faintest ghost of a smile tugging at his lips. He turned a page.

“When are you going to stop pretending you are reading that?” you asked with an amused smile and his lips twitched. But his eyes didn’t leave the pages, still stubbornly pretending to take in the words.

You knew better, you knew his face, better than you knew most faces, because he’d let you look at it for minutes at a time without interruption. Let you map out every crease, every mark upon his skin, all the perfections and imperfections. You had learned his features and the slight changes in his expression better than you’d ever learned to master your own. It was kind of a must, if one wasn’t your brother and wished to interact on eye level with Theodore Nott.

“I am,” he said softly, running his fingers down the next page. For some reason, the sight had you suppress a light shudder, even though the room was quite warm. Warmer than most of the Slytherin dorms. You had wondered before if the enchanted sunlight could provide actual warmth, or if it was a delusion, a trick of mind.

“Alright,” you said, welcoming the challenge and shifting onto your side to prop your head up on your palm. “What’s it about?”

His eyes snapped up at you and sucked all the breath out of your lungs. The false sunlight fell upon his face and made his cerulean eyes shine with disarming intensity. Or maybe you had only imagined that, because he blinked and, though still stunning, his eyes melted into a soft caress down your face to your ink-splattered hands.

When you raised your brows at him, having never quite mastered the art of raising one brow, unlike him, he glanced back at the page for half a second. “Words. Sentences. A truly thrilling analysis of … something.”

You laughed and managed to elicit the smallest of smiles from him. A huge feat, as anyone who knew him would tell you. “You’re the worst study partner,” you said, an accusatory finger pointed at him.

Theo only raised his brow in return, giving you a look of superiority. “You say that, but you’re still here.” His gaze wandered over the open books you’d used for research. “You steal my books more than you read your own, dolcezza.”

“What can I say?” you sighed, feigning regret. “Your books are just better.”

Now, a smirk tugged at his lips as he stretched a little. “Or you just like an excuse to be in my bed.”

Laughing wholeheartedly, you grabbed the book you’d been using most adamantly by the spine and threw it at Theo, who caught it with unwavering certainty. As if he were seeing it for the first time, he turned it around in his hands, maybe trying to remember when he’d bought it.

If there was something he loved to spend money on, it was books. And he did have the means to, his family’s inestimable wealth at his expense whenever he stepped into a bookstore or got you ridiculously expensive christmas gifts to tease you for your indignation at the price. Which was probably why he left it on.

“Your taste in literature is excellent, carina. Your taste in men? Debatable.” If only he knew. An airy chuckle made its way past your lips as you looked down on your ink-covered hands. If there was any man you’d ever desired, it was him. Not just in the physical sense, but in the way his many hookups could not- like this, friendly, bantery, in the midst of heaps of books and parchment as the sun illuminated his beautiful features.

If your brother knew you were in a boy’s dorm, in a boy’s bed, even if it was his best mate, he’d lose his mind- even more so than he already had.

“So, Mattheo told you?” you asked in a falsely casual tone, but watched him carefully out of the corner of your eye. Your friendship with Theo had always been special. In your earlier years at this school, when Mattheo had been insanely clingy, he was the only other boy he allowed you to spend time with.

But Theo was no brother surrogate to you, as Mattheo assumed, wrongly. Though your feelings for him were intimate, they were far too less innocent to be considered fraternal. When Mattheo wasn’t around, in moments like these, you were quite flirtatious, just teetering the edge between friendship and something more. Only in the privacy of his dorm did Theo let nicknames besides topolina slip.

You’d always been more on a wavelength with Theo than with your brother, or any of your friends for that matter. He matched your wit and humor, shared many of your interests and was just as academically ambitious. Laying on his bed, exchanging playful banter and teasing nicknames, there always was a spark, paired with the silent understanding it could never be ignited.

Sometimes, you caught his eyes lingering on you. Even the touch of his hands was deliberate, as he seemed to take advantage of each innocent excuse to get his hands on you. Then, there was his intricate way of words, managing to make you blush and doubt your very existence at the same time. All in all, Theo was both your best friend and most forbidden desire- because he was your brother’s best friend as well. Your brother, who had been throwing a hissy-fit any time the topic of you dating came up.

But Theo didn’t answer, only turning a page in the book he wasn't reading. Not one twitch or movement could betray his agitation but the hard line of his jaw, clenched almost indiscernibly. His silence was a quiet accusation he didn't need to utter for it to linger in the air between you.

You didn't like it when something stood between you in these moments of his sole company, when Mattheo didn't have his hawk eyes on your every move. Moments you relished, and didn't want to be tainted by petty drama between you and your brother, who’d already ruined enough, especially when it was about something as irrelevant as your date for Slughorn's party. Or maybe it wasn't so irrelevant. Merlin, how you wished that it mattered to him.

“I can hear the gears turning in your head, Theo,” you said quietly when he even gave up pretending to be reading and instead stared gloomily at the pages as if they'd personally wronged him. You knew he didn't like many Gryffindors, something he had in common with Mattheo while you preferred not to take part in house rivalries. And Terry Campbell embodied all the worst traits of Gryffindor- no wonder he didn't like him.

“Care to share?” you asked and looked up at him from the sheets with the doe eyes that always worked on Mattheo.

Meeting your eyes, finally, Theo closed the book with a quiet thud and pierced you with his infamous stare- though it was not as sinister as usual. “I don’t have to say anything, you already know what I think,” he said matter-of-factly, leaning back against the headboard once more like he was done with the conversation. But his fingers kept tapping restlessly against the now closed book on his lap.

“You could at least pretend to approve,” you proposed, dragging yourself into a sitting position and propping your head up on your fist with folded legs.

Theo clicked his tongue impatiently and threw you another ill-tempered look. “I could also throw myself off the astronomy tower, but I don’t see the point in either.” There was a certain finality in his tone that you would have respected any day- any day but this one.

“I know you don’t like Terry,” you said, unwilling to give up in your attempts to establish proper eye contact. “Granted, he’s a little intellectually challenged.” At these words, his eyes snapped up at you and he raised a brow, a mixture of amusement and indignation at your rather courteous assessment. But you didn’t even let him speak, you knew his silvery sweet words would wrap themselves around you and render you inarticulate. So you continued quickly, in a quiet but firm voice. “This isn’t about who I want to go out with, it’s about proving I get to choose.”

His pensive eyes studied you as you awaited his reaction, fully aware that he must have concluded this already- or at least included it in his speculations. You were hoping he had, that he had not trusted you to fall for a douche like Terry Campbell. He tilted his head slightly, considering you, his prominent brows furrowed. “And if you’re choosing wrong?” he finally asked, holding your gaze with the certainty of a man who always had the last word.

But you held his gaze, drank in the thrill of losing yourself in his cerulean eyes, and shrugged. “Then at least it’s my mistake to make.”

Theo paused, then exhaled, shaking his head at you. When he tapped his fingers on the rim of his book, your eyes clung to them. A trap, and one you would step in gladly. His long fingers, the rough pads on his tips where he squished his cigarettes with his own hands, the prominent veins. Their movements were always so calculated, so elegant. Outside of Nott manor, he rarely played the piano, but when he did, it truly was a sight to behold. To see his spidery fingers run up and down the keys, eliciting such sweet serenades from the instruments you thought he’d have to have hexed it.

His voice pulled you out of your wandering thoughts as his mouth twitched with a sarcastic smile. “You sound like him, you know that?”

A light laugh stumbled from your lips as you pretended to look indignant- but, unlike him, you’d never been a good actor. “That’s the worst thing you’ve ever said to me.” But your laugh subsided quickly, the desire for him to understand, not only your motive but the importance of it, burning inside you. If someone had to understand, it was him. If you answered to anyone, it was him.

It was impossible to look at him. Not when he had leaned forward slightly at the sound of your little laugh, something shifting in his eyes, something unspoken and impossible to speak, something keeping you locked in place. So you averted your eyes, kept them firmly on the ground and pretended to be interested in a fly whirring in the false rays of sun. “But you understand, don’t you? It’s not about the date, or the party, or Terry. It’s about the fact that Mattheo never trusts me to handle myself. So I will have to prove him that I can be trusted with- with boys, and parties, and life.”

Though you did not look up at him, you could feel his gaze boring into your skull, studying your every expression. He had the natural talent of a careful observer, whereas you had had to learn it, given your circumstances. There was no point in concealing your frustration or disappointment in Mattheo, when Theo could decipher every twitch of your features, pry every drawn curtain apart, look into your very soul. And what would you be hiding something from him for, anyways? Except for your utter devotion to him, of course. Your most strongly concealed and obvious secret.

“Maybe he just doesn’t trust the world to hurt you,” his voice sounded, smooth and pensive, making it impossible not to agree with every word he said. And he was right, of course. But he wasn’t you. And he’d be a hypocrite if he agreed with you. His voice carried more than observation- self-revelation. It wasn’t just him who could decipher codes.

Drawing back the curtains yourself, you turned to him and opened yourself up to his endless, infallible analysis. “Then he should have more faith in me than fear of them.”

The words lingered as you considered each other, and his brow twitched lightly. Instinctively, you were certain you were thinking of exactly the same situation: two weeks ago, at breakfast, when a sixth year Slytherin you didn’t even know had made an unflattering comment about you, loud enough for people to hear but not loud enough that he thought he’d get in trouble for it. Well, the joke was on him, because Theo next to you had picked up on it and had tensed up so quickly you looked at him in alarm, trying to signal him that you didn't care about this kind of talk.

But of course, he knew you better than that, knew it bothered you, and when you’d seen the look in his eyes you had forever regretted crying in his arms about the unforgiving image people had of you, how you would never get rid of your father’s shadow looming over you, how no one would give you a chance. Mattheo and you both had your ways of dealing with your familiar associations. He drank, drugged and fucked himself into oblivion, you spent nights slaving away in the library until Theo dragged you to bed and allowed you to fall asleep with his warm hand on your back.

Before you could have even attempted to talk him out of it, Theo had stood up from the table and met the boy in a few strides. He hadn't even needed to pull out his wand, his voice low and dangerous as he had given the guy one chance to take it back. He had. Fast.

Your soft but slightly bitter laugh broke the silence. “You know what’s funny? If I actually needed him, if I actually needed someone to fight for me- he’d be the first one there. But when I don’t, when I just want to live my life- he’s still the first one there. Stopping me.” With a disheartened huff, you shifted on the bed, but didn’t avert your eyes. And neither did he.

Theo studied you for a long moment, during which nothing but the faintest echo of voices from the common room was to be heard. But silence had never been uncomfortable between you and Theo. Where Mattheo was a roaring whirlwind, Theo was the eye of the storm, the illusion of stillness, of being cut off from the rest of the world, uncaring whether it would be swept away in a single blow as long as you had him.

After observing you for a long moment, Theo nodded slightly. “I know. But…,” he leaned forward, his voice low but with a certain edge, the only indication of a growing intensity simmering behind his ever-calm composure. “Terry Campbell is such a dimwit he doesn’t even deserve to breathe the same air as you, principessa. You could have asked anyone. anyone. And you picked the first desperate idiot who came your way?”

The small laugh you let out was more comparable to a bitter scoff. “Would anyone else have said yes?”

It was rare to spot genuine confusion on Theo’s face, but now, his brows were furrowed in puzzlement. A little, self-depricating smile tugged at your lips; of course he wouldn’t understand. Or was it just pretense to make you feel better?

“Terry has ambitions of playing Quidditch for England one day and has been trying to get into Slughorn’s good graces for ages because he has contacts in the league.” You shrugged, avoiding his eyes. “I knew he’d say yes.”

He was staring at you, his expression unreadable, even for you. Or perhaps, you didn’t want to look too closely. Perhaps, you were afraid of what you might discover, simmering behind those watercolor eyes. “Sei seria? You think that’s the only reason he said yes?”

With a defeated little shrug, you attempted a weak smile and failed miserably, a sudden weight seemed to weigh the corners of your mouth down. Lifting them was like lifting a great weight. “What other reason would there be?”

Finally, the stony expression on his face dissolved into a deep frown, even darker than his usual, gloomy expression. With a humourless scoff, he shook his head. “Dio, you actually believe that.” It wasn’t a question but a realization, and you gave no answer or reaction.

You were tired of him pretending, or simply not understanding your predicament. Of course he wouldn’t; in spite of his parentage, he still had countless girls throwing themselves at him. But you were used to Theo understanding you fully and thoroughly, nodding in recognition when you told him about your struggles, your likes, your opinions, and giving him the same grace. Perhaps you were spoiled. Perhaps, it wasn’t as simple as you thought. Perhaps, it was just you.

“I knew he was the only one desperate enough to be my date,” you said in a tone you hoped would come off as matter-of-fact and indifferent. “Really, I should be grateful I found anyone.”

“Odio quando parli così,” muttered Theo under his breath and you tried to piece the sentence together with your less than stellar knowledge of the Italian language. But before you could fully grasp the meaning of the sentence, Theo’s sharp voice cut through the air, forcing your attention back on him and the bitter intensity brimming behind his frown. “So, this is your clever little plan to get Mattheo off your back?”

There was no longer the slightest hint of humour in his tone, he sounded almost angry, and you recoiled slightly. “It’s not perfect, I admit.”

“You don’t pick the first cretino who sees an angle and call it a choice,” Theo cut you off. You realized his accent was getting more noticeable as he spoke, and the English language failed to express the true weight of his feelings as he slipped in more Italian words or phrases. It was a clear indicator that cool and calculated Theodore Nott was growing more heated, and you found it undeniably and inappropriately attractive. But he still failed to see your perspective in this.

“What else would I have done?” you asked in return, voice growing a little sharper as well. “Waited for someone who wasn’t coming?”

It wasn’t meant to come off as an accusation, but nevertheless, Theo tore his eyes away and gritted his teeth, jaw tight and exhaling through his nose. “Stronzata,” he cursed and glared at the book in his lap, as if it were somehow responsible for this whole mess. You couldn’t help but laugh softly at his inability to grasp a situation when he was usually the most observant person in the room.

Surprised, he looked at you and you shook your head, trying to keep the bitterness out of your voice. “No boy at this school would come into one foot proximity to me.” You bit down on your lip and avoided his intense, angry eyes. “I like to tell myself it’s just because of my … familiar affiliations, but maybe that simplifies things too much. I mean, look at you. Look at Mattheo! Maybe I’m just not, well, desirable.” You were a little ashamed of the words, and even more appalled at the way your voice trembled slightly before you got it back under control.

But when you looked up once more, you realized the error you’d made, letting him hear your somewhat self-deprecating, but in your eyes plausible interpretation. Before he could talk, you interrupted him as he drew his breath, undoubtedly to tell you you were wrong- just what you wanted to hear, of course. “It’s not that deep, Theo,” you said calmingly, unwilling to make a whole thing out of it. This stupid date had already impacted your day enough. “He was available, and I-”

But Theo cut you off, voice low and rough and carrying an edge he didn’t usually direct towards you. “El basta. Enough. You’re actually pissing me off now.”

Despite yourself, you raised your brows in weak amusement. “You’re always pissed off.”

Eyes narrowed, he pointed at you with the unread book. “Not at you. Not like this.”

After his words, silence settled thick between you, exceptionally uncomfortable in comparison to your usual quiet harmony. Maybe because it felt heavy, charged, pressing itself into the space between you on the bed like an unwelcome visitor. It seemed to stretch unbearably long, pressing against your skin like a weight.

Theo sat still, but everything about him was taut- his shoulders tense, his jaw clenched, one hand curled to a fist atop the duvet, the other grabbing the back of his book as if he meant to crush it into dust. His gaze flickered to you once, dark and unreadable, before snapping back down, as if looking at you only stoked the embers of whatever was burning behind his ribs. The air between you felt charged, humming with remnants of his anger, with the frustration he hadn't fully exhaled. His breath came slow and measured, as if he was forcing himself to stay composed.

You hated it. Theo was your best friend, maybe even the love of your life, and fighting with him was exhausting. With a sigh, you turned your whole body to him and gave him a hesitant, pleading look. “I don’t want to fight. Not when this is one of the few moments when my brother doesn’t interrupt our t- my study sessions.”

You cut yourself off, having no interest in loading the buzzing air with more tension. Tension that would be inevitable, if you were true about how important this was for you. How important he was to you. “Let’s not waste it, okay?” you asked, pleadingly, and thought you saw the cold diamond of his eyes soften a little. “I’ll stop mentioning it.”

For a few seconds, he observed you pensively, but you could see him melt behind his unmoved facade. His icy stare warmed slightly and the sharp turn around his mouth eased, jaw and fists unclenching. Something like regret flashed over his face, too fast to pin down. You opened your mouth to speak again, but he wordlessly patted the spot next to him and you fell silent. Following the silent order, you scurried over and he made room for you between him and the wall, propping up his pillow against the headboard for you to lean back comfortably.

You settled down next to him, in the little space there was. His legs were brushing yours, but he didn’t seem to mind, and you surely didn’t. Slowly, giving him the chance to move away or make some other dismissive gesture, you lowered your head and, when he didn’t move, rested it upon his shoulder. It fit into the curve of his body like a puzzle piece and you relished in the warmth, real warmth, body warmth, against your side.

When he raised a hand to card his fingers through your hair in a gesture of such tenderness you’d never seen him bless someone else with something even close to it, you breathed a sigh of relief and nestled deeper into the crook of his neck, closing your eyes. The rough pads of his fingers drew deliberate patterns on your scalp as he rested his chin on top of your head and his breathing finally calmed into a natural rising and falling of his chest. When he spoke, his voice was much quieter than before, measured but intense. “You don’t understand, do you? You could’ve had anyone.”

He spoke like he believed every word, sounded so convinced you almost believed him. Almost. Until the inevitable prying of reality nagged you again. “Then why didn’t I?”

Theo’s voice dropped even lower, rumbling in his chest and vibrating against the ear that rested against his body. “Maybe because no one is stupid enough to think they deserve you.” His voice still carried a certain edge, but this time, it wasn’t directed at you. More like the contrary. His hand wandered from your hair to your neck, rubbing slow circles on your tense muscles and eliciting a slight groan from you as you realized how tight they were clenched. Shaking his head, Theo seemed to be muttering to himself. “Che spreco.” (what a waste)

Narrowing your eyes slightly, you translated the short sentence in your head and were proud to reach a certain level of understanding. “What is?” you asked, hoping the question not only fitted your translation but also his actual statement. His fingers stilled against your neck, fingertips barely brushing against the skin so that you had to suppress a shudder. You, of course, couldn’t see the smug expression on his face as he noticed the way your skin broke out into goosebumps. The air was heavy with another form of tension now.

“That you think so little of yourself,” he explained, “That you let people like him think they're doing you a favor.” His voice was dripping with disdain and you interlocked your pinkie fingers, unwilling to fight him over the issue.

The silence that settled between you now was different- just as heavy, just as charged, but warmer, thicker, curling at the edges with something unspoken, but not uncomfortable. The tension no longer sat sharp between you, there was no room for it anyway. It lingered instead in the space where your bodies touched, in the light brush of your thigh against his, in the synchronising rise and fall of your chests. Theo had relaxed back against the headboard, but his fingers toyed absentmindedly with the collar of your shirt -something he'd never do in the presence of your brother.

Another thing reserved for these private moments was his touch. His pinkie squeezed yours before he removed his hand to place it on the back of your thigh, lifting it slightly to guide it to rest on top of his. Your breath hitched in your throat as his fingers brushed along the fabric of your thights and you hid your blush in the crook of his neck. If your brother saw you like this with any boy, he’d be flung into a fit of rage. But alas, he wasn't here, you reminded yourself, as you melted into his touch.

But it wasn't like he would be wrong to assume. The way Theo touched you, the tenderness of his caresses, was more befitting of a boyfriend rather than a friend. But it had been that way for a while. And neither of you dared say something, enjoying the touch of a lover without the fear of retaliation. You could feel his gaze flicker to you, gauging your reaction, lingering just a second too long on your slightly flushed face before pulling away, like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to look.

The air in the room felt warmer, your skin prickling with awareness at every shift of movement, every slight brush of fabric against fabric. Neither of you spoke. The silence stretched, thick and taut, but neither of you dared to break it, as if speaking aloud would make something tip over the edge, something neither of you could take back.

Instead of speaking, his fingers released your neck and wandered to your chin, lifting it from his neck. He turned to you, and your heart began to race when you found your lips mere breaths away from his, his eyes glinting with an unknown intensity that had you wondering whether he might actually be willing… be ready to…

When the tension mounted and became unbearable, you jolted upright and averted your face to hide your blush. Your chest was so tight you felt like you couldn’t breathe, you only knew you had to get some space between you and him, so you scurried away, brushed down your skirt and stood up from the bed.

Only then did it occur to you to think of an excuse, and with shaky legs, you hurried over to his table where you had set your bag down, pulled out the earrings you planned to wear tonight. Opening his wardrobe, you looked at your reflection as you put them on, heart slowly slowing to an appropriate tempo.

But the angle was limited, so you only saw him when he entered the mirror’s frame, nearing a few steps behind you, an unreadable expression on his face. Raising an eyebrow, you managed to smile at him through the reflection. “What is it?” As if you hadn’t just almost thrown all caution to the wind, all your silent, combined efforts to preserve your friendship.

Theo tilted his head, his gaze flickering over your reflection. “Nothing,” he answered in a low voice, approaching slowly. “Just thinking.”

“Don’t strain yourself,” you attempted to joke, fiddling clumsily with your earrings. Finally, he reached you and you flinched when you felt his hands, large and strong, on your waist. Only the thin material of your blouse separated them from your skin. Lowering his head, his lips hovered right next to your ear and you held your breath as he chuckled into your ear. “Just wondering if he’ll even know what to do with you.”

For a few seconds, you stood still. But then, you brushed his hands off and walked over to his desk to grab your back, oblivious to the way his eyes darkened when you escaped from his grasp. “I’ve got to go, get ready,” you explained as you hurried towards the door eager to escape the thick tension of the room. Playing with it had been fun, but this felt way too real.

Theo watched your fleeing figure. As the door slammed shut behind you, the silence that remained felt louder than anything you could have said. His jaw ticked, fingers flexing at his sides before curling into fists, the sharp edge of his nails pressing into his palms.

You were getting ready for someone else-someone who didn’t deserve your time, your effort, your attention-but still, you went. The thought burned, settling bitter on his tongue, and he exhaled sharply, raking a hand through his hair as if that alone could shake off the feeling clawing at his ribs. The bed was still warm where you had been, the air still carried the faint trace of your perfume, and yet you were gone- off to smile for someone who would never look at you the way he did.

Theo wasn’t what some would call a “party person”. For the past months, he’d done his best to avoid Slughorn’s invitations. Though the silver-tongued heir of the prominent house of Nott had been taught to socialize properly and knew his way around people, the majority of them bored him to death, as did the inevitable smalltalk revealing their shallow nature.

The Slytherin house parties he could endure, because there was at least the added though fleeting thrill of a hookup- and also, he had to handle Mattheo at his worst, when he’d made his way through a few too many shots of firewhiskey and drugs. Additionally, the Slytherin house parties tended to grow wild and frenzied fairly quickly, allowing him to slip into a hazy sequence of blurred memories and forget about himself.

An event such as this, however, which some might assume more to his liking as it presented itself as far more civil, could not have thrilled him any less. People circling each other like vultures under the red lanterns, detecting with observant eyes who to suck up to and who to eliminate as competition, fighting for the attention of the well-connected at the top of the food chain, trying to climb a latter they weren’t even able to grab the rails of.

Slughorn was smiling brightly, boasting and prowling around, fully in his element as he weaved people like strings, enjoying himself in the role of benefactor, merciful king, god. Beneath him, the huddle of chosen ones, jabbing their elbows into each other in the hopes to be selected as the one to rise the ranks of privilege. Shrill, tense laughter rang through the air, the scenery painted in red hues from the lanterns, the eyes too attentive for a party like this. And in the midst of it all, you.

You, in your gorgeous green dress, being twirled around on the dance floor by Terry Campbell. Though that was quite the generous description, as you were doing most of the heavy lifting. As he had suspected, Theo thought to himself, Campbell couldn’t handle you, he could never meet your standards. His movements were clumsy and sluggish, he lacked manners and he didn’t hesitate to leave you alone or crowd you out when the opportunity to suck up to one of the more illustrious people presented itself.

He didn’t deserve you, he didn’t deserve looking at you all dressed and dolled up. The sight of it twisted something sharp and ugly inside him. That idiot had his hands on your waist, his fingers splayed too casually against the fabric, his grin too smug, too self-assured-like he had any right to you. Theo had to refrain himself from reaching for his wand as Campbell followed your lead (he was a miserable dancer) and stared down at your cleavage, not even attempting to conceal his blatant ogling. As if you were a fucking pezzo di carne.

Taking a long sip of the champagne in his hands, he felt it trickle cooly down his throat, but it could not cool his temper flaring up whenever Campbell’s eyes wandered just a little too far down. The only thing keeping him from marching over and wrenching you out of his grabby hands was your eyes, boring into his earlier that day when you’d complained about Mattheo’s overbearing relationship. He didn’t want you to feel caged in, as much as he wished to get you by the waist and out of this snakepit. Where people whispered behind your back and your face fell any time you saw a finger pointed at you.

You were too soft to be what you were, and he fucking adored it. But it also meant that he made a mental note of anyone who made the smile vanish from your face for later … consideration.

When your dimwit of a date spotted Sean Clarke, the president of the English Quidditch league, amidst a crowd of noisy witches, he tore himself away from you in an instant to push past dancing couples towards him, without a glance or word back to you. Just leaving you standing there on the dance floor, looking so utterly breathtaking in that frilly dress of yours.

Theo’s hands tightened around his glass of champagne as he glided through people to keep an eye on you as you approached the buffet. As you waited for a group of renowned daily prophet reporters to pass by, your eyes wandered over the crowd and found him, leaning against one of the stone walls. Even from a distance, he saw them widen in surprise- no wonder, since he usually was to be found anywhere but at a Slughorn party on designated evenings.

But soon after, a smile spread across your face. Not the false ones you gave Campbell to appease him and make him feel like a man. It was small, hesitant, honest and it was private. Even in his foul mood, Theo could do nothing but smile back and the corners of your mouth twitched as you turned towards the buffet, only to tighten when Campbell returned. Theo saw it with a certain level of satisfaction.

As Terry, visibly ill-tempered, pushed through the crowd towards you again, you had to suppress an exasperated sigh. He’d been nothing but a nuisance and a brat all night, and you would rather have him preoccupied with Sean Clarke than you. But alas, the latter seemed to have blown him off, judging by the bitter look on Campbell’s face.

Before you could ask if he wanted to get something to eat - you were starving - he grabbed you roughly by the arm, grunting something that sounded like “dancefloor” and dragged you back to the middle of the room. Instinctively, your gaze found Theo who was slowly pushing himself off the wall, eyes locked on Terry’s hand gripping your arm. But when you threw him a warning look, he halted his movement, only following you with vigilant eyes.

Terry placed his hand on your waist- if one was to call your hip your waist. As he took up his clumsy movements again, you attempted to ignore the way it moved uncomfortably far down. You had stoked his wandering hands up to a lack of experience in the beginning, but you were growing more uncomfortable by the second. Just to check, you threw another glance around you for Theo, and he returned it with a raised brow. Recognizing the silent question, you shook your head lightly.

Terry seemed to have realized your spirits weren’t in it anymore, or maybe he’d just spotted another Quidditch player, because he stopped dancing after just a short moment to pull you after him again. Without a word to you, he pushed a group of fifth years aside until you’d reached a secluded corner behind some slightly see-through red curtains, cutting you off from the rest of the party.

Initially, you had wanted to look for Theo again, just to check, but then, Campbell speaking a coherent sentence took you so off guard that you forgot anything else over it. “You know, I could have asked any girl here, but I picked you.”

Completely taken aback, both by his sudden ability to articulate himself through more than three word sentences and the contents of said sentence, you blinked up at him, momentarily rendered speechless. He looked down at you appraisingly and took a step towards you, which was quite the feat in this cramped spot. Instinctively, you inched back, but smiled nervously as you didn’t want to be rude- you just wanted to get out of here and hook him up with his beloved Sean Clarke so you didn’t have to deal with him anymore.

“Don’t be so uptight, Riddle,” he drawled, having picked up on your attempts to bring some space between you and him. A lazy, sickening grin pulled at his lips and a shiver ran down your spine when his eyes wandered from your face down your body. His tongue darted out to lick his lips. “I bet no one’s even looking.”

“Can we get back to dancing?” you tried, fingers nervously clasping around each other as you glanced up at him. Your heart was beating rapidly in your chest as you tried to suppress the panic that surged through you at the look in his eyes. “I don’t really feel like-”

His demeaning chuckle cut you off and to your horror, he grabbed the arm you had been reaching out to draw the curtains aside, as well as your waist. He pushed you against a small table, cornering you. You could smell the faint trace of alcohol on him, but he’d not had enough to be losing all sense. Which meant… You didn’t want it to be true, Merlin, you didn’t want Mattheo to be right. But it looked like you’d just walked into a trap, and it snapped shut when Terry leaned down and grinned unpleasantly. “Come on, don’t be like that, I’ve been nothing but nice to you all night.”

“Stop it,” you said in a low voice, doing your best to imitate Theo’s threatening tone that had any resistance crumble into a pathetic pile at his feet. But it didn’t work with Gryffindor’s six foot tall beater, of course.

Terry only laughed mockingly and his hands squeezed around your waist and arm. His eyes glinted as you attempted to free yourself. “Relax, it’s just a little fun- What, your brother gonna come drag you away?” He lowered his head and you tried pushing at his chest, but he didn’t move one bit and his fingers dug painfully into your flesh. “You don’t have to play so hard to get, you know?” he drawled, “I already know you like the attention. Why else would you have worn a dress like tha-”

Somehow, suddenly, out of nowhere, the curtains were ripped apart and Theo was there before you, before you even had time to process it- before Campbell could push his luck any further. His hand shot out, fingers locking around the bastard’s wrist in a vice grip, yanking it away from your waist with enough force to make him stumble back a step. His breathing was slow, measured, but everything else about him was tightly wound, coiled with barely restrained fury- his shoulders stiff, his jaw clenched so hard it looked like it might crack. His fingers flexed at his side like he was deciding whether to throw a punch or just break Campbell's wrist outright.

The usual composed calm in his expression was gone- his dark eyes burned with something lethal, something cold and merciless that had shivers run down your spine, even though it wasn’t directed at you but at Campbell, who recoiled visibly, wincing when Theo’s hand tightened around his wrist and cut off all blood flow. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, quiet, but razor-edged with warning. “You really don’t want to do that.”

“H-hey man,” laughed Campbell, voice shaking slightly with fear, and it was music to your ears. To have him at someone’s mercy, in someone’s unrelenting grip. For a moment, you wished you had Theo’s authority, menacing aura and reputation. Until you got half your mind back and inched away from Campbell, who had let go of your arm in an instant.

“It was just a bit of fun,” Campbell attempted to laugh it off, but Theo didn’t move- didn’t blink, didn’t loosen his grip. If anything, his fingers tightened around Campbell’s wrist, the tension in his arm rippling beneath his shirt. There was not the slightest trace of amusement on his stony face, no hint of his usual cool detachment- just a quiet, simmering rage, deadly in its restraint.

His head tilted slightly, voice dropping even lower, silk-smooth but edged with steel. “Didn’t seem like she was having fun to me.” His thumb pressed just slightly into the guy’s pulse point, a silent threat, a warning that needed no elaboration. The air around them felt sharp, electric, like the moment before a storm broke, and though Theo hadn’t thrown a single punch, it was clear he was seconds away from violence.

His gaze flickered over to you. But instead of softening, like it usually did, it only hardened as he snapped his eyes back at Campbell, who was unable to hide the panic etched into his expression. “Do yourself a favor,” Theo said darkly, threateningly, “Get lost. Now.” Still holding his wrist, he lowered his head and Campbell tried to avoid his piercing eyes. With eyes full of disgust and revulsion, Theo looked down on him. “I’ll find you tomorrow,” he growled with barely contained fury, released Campbell’s hand and tilted his head just the slightest bit.

In the split of a second, Campbell was gone, only the curtains still moving with the impact of his sudden departure. Theo turned to you, dread churning in his stomach. He wanted nothing more than to go after Campbell and make him bleed, make him pay, for daring to lay his filthy hands on you, for daring to feast his greedy eyes on you and trying to hurt you. The only thing keeping him in place was, at the same time, the only thing more important than his wrath- you.

Your eyes were locked on the swaying curtain where Campbell had just left, your shoulders slumped and to his horror, he noticed you were shaking slightly. The sight of your trembling fingers didn't do anything to calm the inferno barely contained within him, and he was tempted to take you with him and have you watch him destroy Campbell, so you would see what a miserable sack of human garbage he was, how he was nothing, how he would cower at your feet, beg for your mercy, and he’d punish him for it.

“Carina?”

Theo’s voice sounded through to you, over the ringing in your ears. Blinking rapidly, you bit down on your traitorously wobbling lip and turned to him without raising your gaze from the ground. “Merlin,” you whispered and heard your voice quiver uncontrollably. “I was so stupid.” Your eyes burned, both with shock and humiliation, and before you could properly avert your face, a tear slipped past the fragile dam.

His warm hands on your bare arms, so much more gentle and careful than Terry’s, almost made you shudder as you fought the urge to sink into him and cry away your worries on his shoulder, in spite of time and place, in spite of your determination to keep some level of composure. Theo’s thumbs brushed gently over your skin, so utterly comforting that it only made you well up more. “You weren't,” he said in a firm but calm voice, the rumble of his baritone soothing the trembling of your heart against your ribcage, as if it wanted to escape the confines of your body that suddenly felt so sullied.

An ironic, teary laugh slipped past your lips. “Yes, I am. Here I was, wanting to show Mattheo I can handle myself and now I need saving from you-” Your voice broke off and you covered your mouth with one hands to muffle the little sob building up in your throat.

Wiping at your cheeks stubbornly, you avoided his gaze determinately and preferred to watch the ripple of his sophisticated shirt as he leaned towards you, the smell of smoke, mint and old books tearing down your walls of resistance. Another tear. “You must think I'm an idiot,” you whispered as even more tears ran down your cheeks and the hand over your mouth shook.

“No, I don't,” said Theo, ever more firmly, and all of the sudden, you could feel the rough pads of his fingers under your chin, lifting it. There was no resistance left in you, not when his voice drowned out the unpleasant memory of Campbell and the overwhelming thumping of the music. But the look in his eyes almost made you flinch back. They were made of ice, hard and cold and beautiful, brimming with fury. Still, his grip barely tightened. As always, Theo was in perfect control of his body, of his every movement. Sometimes, that frustrated you, but now, you felt content knowing every touch of his was deliberate and trustworthy.

“I don't think you’re an idiot,” he reiterated, lowering his head to be more on eye level with you. “I think you picked the wrong guy. È semplice. Simple as that.”

It was too much, his voice, his words, the way the Italian rolled so smoothly off his tongue. Sniffing, you hid your head in his chest and his arms wrapped themselves around you, one hand holding your neck, brushing his thumb over your jaw and shielding you against him.

“You could do so much better,” his voice rumbled against your ear as he caressed your face and more tears stained his white shirt. You felt him tense up somewhat, a certain hint of frustration in his voice, though not directed at you, but rather at himself. “You should do so much better.”

Another bitter little laugh left your lips, a pang of daring born out of your shock and fear. “Like you?” Since you still hid your head in his chest, you didn't see the way his jaw clenched at your words.

He could imagine it so well- a world in which you would have worn that dress for him, and only for him. In which he’d have waited for you by your dorm, would have led you through the halls to Slughorn’s party and fended all other people off to take you to dance. How you would have moved, and smiled, and laughed; laughed just for him. How you would have trusted him with yourself. He would have made sure you got to enjoy yourself, would have made the night unforgettable. Would have taken you back to your dorm and shown you just how much of a goddess you were- even without the dress on.

Already regretting your rash words, you pried yourself from his hug, too busy whipping the last remnants of tears from your cheeks to notice the way his eyes had darkened and fingers curled at his sides, as if burning to pull you back against him. “Can we get out of here?” you asked, looking up at him, and he nodded, tugging the curtains aside to lead you out of the secluded corner.

Theo’s hand rested on your lower back as if it belonged there, as he guided you through chattering and dancing bodies, clearing a path for you through the sea of laughter and music. The party’s noises and colors had long become overwhelming to you, so you let him guide you through the crowd and to the door leading out of the room. Taking a longer step, he opened it for you, lead you through and closed it behind you. As soon as the door fell shut with a resounding clang and the coolness and quiet of the nightly castle halls welcomed you, you could breathe steadily again.

Theo shook off his jacket and wrapped it over your shoulders like a proper gentleman, adjusting it to make sure it didn't slip. He was a bit old school, but you liked it. Luckily, the night hid the dust of pink on your cheeks as the warmth engulfed you like a hug and shielded you against the nightly cold. His hand still on your lower back, Theo guided you down the stairs and along the corridor, a comfortable silence settling between you. You had a feeling he was slowing his pace to match yours, as your legs were still a little shaky.

When you walked by the courtyard, you slowed your steps and looked up at him, noticing the way the pale moonlight only accentuated the sharp line of his jaw. “Can we sit outside for a moment?”

Theo did not at all like how flimsy and unprotected against the cold you were dressed, but he nodded. He couldn't let you go unprotected, after all. Right, he was just following your brother’s instructions. Just that. Once more, he adjusted his jacket before allowing you to pull him by the arm out into the courtyard, striding towards one of the benches. Before you could sit, he wiped away the leaves and twigs on your side and then sat down next to you, feeling himself grow calmer as he listened to your steady breathing and watched it come out in puffs from your lips. Your lips. You’d put lipgloss on, and his eyes clung to the way they looked so plump and soft, ready to be ravaged.

“Theo?”

“Mm?” he asked distractedly, still mesmerized by the way your lips looked, moved, parted, huffed out silvery breaths.

“Can you-,” you hesitated for a second and threw him a quick glance. “Can you not tell Mattheo about how horrible this went?” Theo looked down at you steadily, with a serious, unmoved expression on his face as he was waiting for you to continue.

With a defeated sigh, you propped up your head and your hands, elbows on your knees, and stared ahead. “You know how he’ll get if he finds out. He’ll go completely bonkers, and he’s so reckless, I wouldn’t be surprised if he risked more than detention.” Maybe even Azkaban. Because he had sworn to you earlier that evening that he would kill Campbell if he laid so much as a hand on you. But you had no interest in Campbell dying, you just never wanted to see his stupid face again.

Still, Theo remained quiet and you rocked your leg anxiously, your voice a breath against the nightly breeze. “And if he knows… if you tell him… he’ll be right.” Again, you felt the sharp prick of tears behind your eyes, but before they could flow, a warm hand came to rest against your waist and you gave into its urge by leaning against his shoulder. Resting your head on him, you couldn’t see his face properly, but his voice was louder and clearer than yours had been. Still, he seemed to have understood every word.

“He wouldn’t,” said Theo calmingly, rubbing circles on your dress and calming your breathing in return. “I know you can take care of yourself. Also.”

You were surprised by the somewhat humorous tone in his voice as he lightly nudged your head with his, making you raise your head from his shoulder and look up at him. Mere inches separated your noses as his darkend eyes reflected the starry sky above Hogwarts. There was a rare, jocular twinkle in them as his hand came up from your waist to cup your cheek. “You are his older sister after all.”

A dry chuckle left your lips, but your heart was lighter than before and you managed to crack a genuine smile. “You’re right,” you grinned weakly, not even thinking of bringing more distance between you and his magnetizing eyes. “I should rightfully rule over him.”

A gentle smirk tugged at his lips, and he didn’t make a move to separate from you either, his thumb running along your jaw. “With an iron fist, bella.”

But then, his gaze darkened again as his eyes lost all light. You could almost understand why people tended to flinch back from him in fear, though the threatening look in his eyes couldn’t make you frightened for yourself. Still, his thumb brushed gentle strokes up your jaw and his trusted scent clouded your senses. “I will hurt him for what he did to you,” muttered Theo, his voice so quiet you could only hear it because he practically breathed the words against your lips.

Maybe he had expected you to back away, look horrified, or tell him off for doing what Mattheo would have done. But you only nodded, like you had known it all along. “I know,” you echoed his thoughts, looking serious and tugging his jacket tighter around yourself, not breaking eye contact. “But I trust you to handle the situation better. You are … less clouded by emotions.”

The irony almost made him smile, how you thought he would be measured, would be reasonable, rational, when he had never felt more clouded by emotions as when you looked up at him now, your wide eyes still showing the last remnants of your tears. An iron grip was around his heart, refusing to loosen, so he forced himself to avert his eyes, so you wouldn’t see the hate brimming in them- not at you, of course, but at the world who kept cracking down on someone as good as you.

But he didn’t correct you, instead skimming his eyes over the lace of your dress, the way it swayed gently in the breeze. You had looked so pretty in it- still did. A shame, truly. Both you and this dress deserved better. When he adjusted the hem slightly, he caught goosebumps break out under his touch and hated himself for the light tinge of satisfaction it gave him.

“You look stunning in that dress,” he muttered lowly, looking back up at you. It seemed like your eyes hadn’t left him, even after he had averted his, and the way you leaned trustingly into his touch twisted his insides with conflicting emotion.

Your hand found his and squeezed, and now he himself had to suppress a shudder at your soft touch. It really shouldn’t be bothering him, shouldn’t be affecting him this much. He had touched you plenty of times before, as you had, too. Your touch was more familiar to him than that of his parents, or his friends. Your warmth a constant in the wild tides breaking all around him, disrupting the world he had meant to break into order for you.

“Thank you,” you said breathlessly, giving his hand a light squeeze. Returning it, he watched you, and you shifted under his gaze, feeling scrutinized.

“Mi dispiace (i’m sorry),” he said sincerely, finally holding your gaze again. “For your ruined night, carina. You deserve so much better.”

You shrugged, giving him a half-smile. “Well, you know what they say, play stupid games and win stupid prizes. And anyway, it wasn’t your fault. And,” your eyes fell to your interlocked hands, his long fingers engulfing yours like they never wanted to let you go again. “Thank you, Theo. For getting me out of there. Merlin knows what would have happened if you hadn’t.”

His jaw clenched visibly at the thought, and he attempted to concentrate on the feel of your soft skin against his to ground him, as images of what he would do to Campbell flashed in his mind. Your ironic chuckle pulled you out of his spiraling thoughts. “I couldn’t even push him off. The way you just looked at him and he ran off…,” you swallowed thickly. “I wish I wasn't this weak.”

“It’s not a weakness,” he disagreed and you opened your mouth to argue back, but the look in his eyes extinguished every and all protest on your tongue. “It’s not a weakness,” he repeated firmly, locking you in place with his cerulean eyes. His thumb ran over your knuckles, but neither of you dared look away from the other. “It’s a show of strength,” he said, his Italian accent a little more prominent than before. “The world didn’t manage to take away your kindness.”

He leaned in further when he saw the frown forming on your face. “You are stronger than me. And for all those who think otherwise,” his voice got more grave as he spoke, more intense, “who think they can use you or hurt you, you have me to deal with him.”

Frozen, unable to talk back and disagree with his rather flattering interpretation of yourself, you stared at him, his words replaying in your mind. You had him. Him. Not them. He wasn’t talking about himself and your brother, just about himself. He would deal with anyone who hurt you. A shiver ran through your body, but it wasn’t because of the dark promise he had extended towards you. Where it was received inside you, it curled up, warm, like a whispered secret. He would take care of you.

To your grief, that care seemed to be extendable to other areas as well, as Theo's attentive eyes caught the goosebumps on your arms and your light shivering. Loosening his hand from yours, he placed it again on the small of your back, frowning. “We have to get you inside, amore. You will catch death out here.” Begrudgingly, you agreed, partially because you couldn’t say no to those eyes.

With a gentle rub of his hand, he helped you stand and adjusted his jacket over your shoulders. Then, he led you inside again, where, though it wasn’t much warmer, the cold breeze subsided. But when he turned to the stairs leading down to the dungeons, you halted your steps, causing him to stop as well and raise his brow at you. You gave him a pleading look as you held on to his jacket for support. “He’ll be waiting. I don't want him to ask questions when I turn up so early.”

Theo sighed, running a hand through his dark curls, but he nodded and you gave him a grateful smile. “Come with me,” he said, gratuitously, as if you wouldn't have followed him anywhere without him having to ask. But you nodded and let him take you up a staircase into the Transfiguration corridor, where he opened the first door with a bit of wandless magic.

Any other night, you might have protested breaking into a classroom, but you made no sound of complaint as he opened the door for you and led you inside, closing it softly behind you so the noise would go undetected. A small click told you that he had locked it again, though Filch was rarely out and about on nights of Slughorn’s parties, as too many partygoers drove him mad.

As you sat down on one of the tables in the front row, hands tugged into the pockets of Theo's jacket, he opened one of the closets, seemingly looking for something. Seconds later, he reemerged, balancing a board of chess in one hand. Something like a satisfied smile tugged at his lips when your eyes lit up in an instant. He walked over, placing the board on the desk you sat on, before hoisting himself up to sit on the other end, undoing the first few buttons of his shirt to find a more relaxed position.

Your eyes clung to the exposed skin of his collar for just a moment, but a moment too long, as he quirked a teasing brow at you when you snapped your eyes back to his face. Feeling your face grow hot, you busied yourself with placing the chess figures on the board. White for you, black for him, as always. His eyes followed the movement of your hands on the board and you felt a certain nervosity coil in your stomach at the intensity with which he observed your hands.

Once the board was ready, you did the first move. His eyes snapped up at you shortly before he extended his veiny hand to move one of his central pawns. And so it continued. You both made your moves, sometimes fast and certain, other times slow and hesitant. His brows were drawn in concentration, and you attempted to focus on the game instead of the way his pensive expression made you want to lean over and kiss him.

Theo was a formidable chess player, and you weren’t so bad yourself. When you had both finished your school work, playing chess was a common pastime in his room, both of you sitting on his sheets and balancing the board between you. It wasn't so different now, only that you were starting to notice things in the pale moonlight you hadn’t before.

The deliberate movement of his hands, how his fingers sometimes stilled over the board as he glanced up at you, gauging your reaction to what he was about to do. The way he ran his hands through his hair after you’d made a good move, and the way his lips would quirk whenever he’d taken advantage of one of your weak positions. He was so utterly magnetizing you had to force your attention on the game, determined not to let him beat you too easily. Usually, it was Theo who won the match, but you tended to put up a good figh. It wasn’t easy to entertain him, but somehow, it was always him who asked for a match or had already got out the board when you arrived.

Unbeknownst to you, you weren’t the only one somewhat distracted. Usually, it was enough for Theo to analyze your moves and strategies, never having had a problem with wavering concentration, unlike his best mate. Something was different tonight. Maybe it was the dress. Only now did he realize how low-cut it really was, made worse by the fact that you had to lean over the desk to move your chess men, giving him an enticing view of your cleavage- if he hadn’t physically restrained himself from looking by digging his nails into the palms of hands violently. Maybe it was his jacket on you. This clear sign of his claim on you.

Feeling dirty and horrible for these thoughts, he looked back down to the board he had been absentmindedly moving figures on and realized he hadn’t seized an important opportunity, but rather allowed you to break through his rangs so that now, you were in a position to take his queen. He cursed quietly under his breath and you gave him a sceptical and somewhat accusatory look.

“You’re letting me win.”

“I’m not,” he replied truthfully, but you didn’t believe him, and how was he supposed to explain to you that he had been so occupied with staring at you he had let his concentration slip to such a point? He himself was a little shocked, having believed his discipline to be stronger after years and years of rigorous training. But you were still you, amd if someone could distract him, it had to be you.

“Check,” you mumbled, and you both did a few more moves until you said “Checkmate” and took his king with your queen. But you remained in place, neither of you willing to let this moment pass without resolving the unspoken tension that had settled in the air between you as you played.

Without taking his eyes off yours, Theo flicked his wrist and made the board and pieces fly back into the cupboard, which sealed itself. Closing the now unoccupied distance between you, both of you shuffled closer on the desk, neither breaking eye contact. Suddenly, you caught a movement out of the corner of your eye. It was his hand, moving slowly towards your face, hovering in the air for the split of a second before cupping your cheek and tilting your head lightly, reveling in the way you gave into his touch so willingly.

“I must confess something, carina,” his voice sounded into the silence and you frowned, your heart beating faster with anticipation. A light smile settled on his lips, uncharacteristically sheepish, as his thumb brushed over your lower lip, eyes locked on the way it gave in to the pressure of his thumb. “I might have been assigned to you tonight, to protect you.”

Ignoring the pang of disappointment in your chest, you scoffed without any malice behind it. But you refused to look away as his breath mingled with yours, the silence in the classroom seeming louder than before. The space between you had disappeared without either of you noticing, and his fingers were warm against your skin. His touch was careful, almost hesitant, as if he wasn’t sure he was allowed, but he didn’t pull away. His gaze flickered between your eyes and lips, dark and unreadable, his breathing slow but unsteady. The air between you felt thick, charged, like the moment before lightning struck.

You should have moved. Said something. Diffused the situation before it crossed the point of no return. But you didn’t. Couldn’t. The warmth of him, the way his knee pressed against yours, the way his breath ghosted over your lips- it held you in place. His grip tightened just slightly, as if grounding himself, as if testing if you’d pull away. But you didn’t. The silence stretched, became unbearable, and your lips parted, his eyes clinging to them.

“Well, Theo. Are you going to protect me from yourself?”

It was the last straw. Suddenly, his lips were on yours, soft but firm, moving against yours and you gave into him in an instant, as if on instinct. Both his hands cupped your face now, tilting it slightly to give himself a better angle. His lips were so soft you wondered whether he’d put on lipbalm earlier, his touch so tender you couldn’t help but feel content, right here and there. You kissed him back, but he took the lead with unmistakable certainty, tugging lightly at your lower lip with his teeth and making your breath hitch before closing the distance once more.

But there was something missing. Theo was kissing and touching you as if you were made of glass and could shatter at the lightest touch. His kisses were loving, but careful, only gently tugging at the curtains you wished to rip open and let your senses be overflown with sunlight.

The moment he detected you struggling to catch your breath, he released your lips, looking down on your flushed face with a light smile. So damn satisfied, so superior. But you’d show him. Fisting your hands in his shirt, you leaned up at him but he evaded your lips, tutting softly at your endeavors and the frown scrunching your brows together.

Feeling quite frustrated and desperate to release the tension that had been brimming inside you all day, you scraped together your last bits of Italian you had picked up, poring over language books in the library. Your voice shook, uncertain, as you spoke, and the words came out slightly broken, almost inaudible. “Ti voglio… così … così tanto,” you said breathlessly, and in what had to be a heavy english accent. (I want you so much)

Theo let out a shaky exhale, and he corrected you without thinking, his voice so low it sounded more like a rumble. “Ti voglio così tanto.”

A beat. Silence. And then, finally, something inside him seemed to snap. The careful restraint in his grip vanished, replaced by something raw, something reckless. His fingers slid back into your hair, tightening just enough to tilt your face up to his as his lips crashed onto yours, all hesitation gone. It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t measured. It was heated, desperate, like he had been holding himself back for too long and had finally lost the battle.

His other hand found your waist, pulling you closer, pressing you flush against him as if he needed to feel you, to prove to himself that you were here, that this was real. A low sound rumbled in his throat as he deepened the kiss, as his fingers curled tighter against your waist, as he poured everything- every once of frustration, every unsaid thing, every moment spent pretending it wasn’t inevitable - into the way his lips moved against yours.

His hand on your waist slid down to your thigh, grabbing a handful and pulling you every more closer until you sat halfway in his lap. At his firm touch, your breath hitched in your throat and he responded with a low growl, hand slipping higher and higher until-

You pulled away, chest heaving and head spinning, unable to grasp a thought. But fear had surged through you, as the images of the boys you’d kissed before flashed in your mind, after Mattheo had been done with them. Panic and pleasure coiled into an almost painful knot in your throat and all you could think, as you tightened your hands in his shirt, was not him, not him, not him. You shouldn't be doing this. He was your brother’s best friend, he was off limits. He was freedom.

“Carina?” his voice broke through to the hazy mist clouding your mind and you looked up at him with wide eyes. The look on his face took you off guard, because you had never seen him look scared before. Maybe you had even thought impossible. But now, his voice shook slightly as he ran his thumb over your jaw and his other hand departed from your upper thigh. “I’m sorry, carina. Merda- fuck- I- I shouldn't have, Non stavo pensando-” (I wasn't thinking)

Theo seemed to take your lack of response as fright rather than what it was: perplexity. Because Theodore Nott hadn't had trouble with slipping in and out of English since first grade. But now, as his eyes frantically searched your face for a reaction, as apologies stumbled from his tongue, he almost seemed unable to control in what language they were in.

Theo was astonished how quickly emotion and desire had taken over his senses, his body, his sacred self-control. Only now did he realize how reckless he had been, kissing you like that after just saving you from a handsy stronzo. Where had his filter been when he’d kissed you like that, when his hand had slipped up your dress, when your little gasps had only spurred him on? But you didn't seem as fearful as him, only staring at him with wide eyes as if he’d just discovered a damn new species. Running a hand through his hair in desperation, he lowered his voice. “Parlami, per favore. Talk to me, carina.”

Snapping back to your senses, you shook your head at him rapidly. “It's not- I didn't mean-”. You felt your cheeks grow hot but you held your gaze steady and didn't loosen the grip you had on his shirt. “I liked it. It was great. I was just-” You took a few breaths through your mouth, considering the words, weighing them in your mind before allowing your tongue to form a sentence. As you pondered your words, he sat still as a block of ice, staring down at you with those mesmerizing blue eyes of his.

“I don't want Mattheo to hurt you!” you finally managed to say and his brow arched. Frustrated with your lack of an explanation, you looked around the room as if the perfect sentence to explain your desperate predicament would jump out of one of the cupboards. “I know what he did to the other boys,” you said, forcing yourself to stay calm, “to the other boys I've kissed. I don't want him to hurt you. A- and,” you hated yourself for the way your voice broke off and you had to start the sentence over, “and I know you love him like a brother, and you are his best friend, and I don't want to ruin that.”

“Oh carina,” he sighed, rolling the r even more heavily than usual, and the small smile that tugged at his lips had the conflicting desires to hit him or kiss him battle inside of you. Theo visibly relaxed, the tension leaving his shoulders and the movements of his fingers settling into a calm rhythm once more. His relaxed stance didn't even make the slightest bit of sense to you as you frowned at him, voice laced with fear and worry.

“Mattheo will kill you.”

Theo’s heart seized as he looked into your worried, fearful eyes. Worried for him, your hand clutching his shirt like you never wanted to let him go. You didn't want to ruin his friendship with Mattheo. You were afraid he would hurt him. Dio, you were so fucking selfless, so sweet and caring. How could anyone see you as unapproachable or cold, or anything short of wonderful? But at the same time, the kiss-induced haze in his mind slowly started to clear up as he seemed to sober up, recognizing the sensibility of your words. Right. You were Mattheo's sister. You were off-limits.

It cost him every last ounce of self-control to pry your fingers away from his shirt gently, and a numb pain tugged at his heartstrings when they fell purposelessly into your lap. “Let's get you back to your dorm,” he mumbled, trying to be the voice of reason, not the greedy vulture raging inside his head that yearned to rip that pretty dress off of you and worship you like you deserved, to make you forget all about Campbell and his disgusting attempts. He longed to hear the sounds you would make when he touched you in all the right places, he wanted you to curl your fingers into his hair, he wanted to hear you moan his name, and his name only.

But alas, he stepped back from the table, banning the forbidden images from his head, and approached the door, desperately trying to clear his head. It was only when his hand hovered over the door handle that he realized you hadn't followed. Turning around, he saw you were still sitting where he had left you, on the desk, clutching his jacket around yourself, eyes fixed on him. The glint in them was dangerous, it tempted him more than anything, drew him in like a magnet. Shakily breathing out, he turned and faced the door, fingers closing around the handle. “Tell me to go.”

There was a pause, during which he could only hear your breathing, still labored as a result of the messy kiss. He could picture you so well. Clutching his jacket, your hair disheveled where his fingers had run through it and your eyes- dio, your eyes… When you spoke, your voice was quiet, but firm. As if you'd made up your mind about something. “You never listen to me anyway.”

That was all it took for his resolve to crumble. Mattheo and chivalry be damned as he turned on his heel and had reached you in a few strides, crashing his lips against yours. As his hands on your neck urged you ever more closer, you let out a surprised squeak, but the split of a second later, your eyes fluttered close and you kissed him back, losing yourself in the bliss.

Low phrases were muttered against your lips, but you barely registered them as you kissed him back just as feverishly as he did. Your shaky fingers ran over his chest, looking for any sort of halt, and he rumbled lowly into your mouth as his grip on you tightened and he opened your lips with his tongue. As his tongue slid into your mouth, it met little resistance. Instead, your fingers closed around his tie, unintentionally tugging him even closer to you and he cupped the back of your head, fingers carding into your hair. An embarrassing little mewl left your lips and the vehemence of the kiss made you lean back on the table, your back hovering inches above the surface. He followed, chasing your lips, closing in on you again and again and exploring the insides of your mouth with his tongue.

You had subconsciously been inching back on the desk and his hands departed from your neck to bury themselves in the flesh of your hip. With one fluid motion, he pulled you back over the smooth surface of the desk until your clothed core met his and you could feel his desire. Your skirt had ridden up to your upper thighs, but you made no attempts to fix it as you leaned into his touch, his kiss, his smell, his very being.

You could barely believe this was happening, the stuff of your forbidden little ovulation daydreams, and if his fingers hadn’t been kneading the flesh of your exposed thigh so maddeningly, you would have pinched yourself to make sure this was real. But it felt almost too real, too intense, too all-consuming, as his large palms ran over every inch of your body they could reach and he panted against your lips before clashing his onto yours again. Insatiable, ferocious, yearning for every part of you he could grasp.

If you had thought you were the only one desperate for the other, you had been so, so wrong. His frantic kisses and desperate touches were enough to convince you otherwise, his usual calm and coldness missing as you felt so fucking hot under his deft hands.

Experimentally, you rolled your hips against his crotch. His grip on your waist and hip tightened, fingers curling harshly into your flesh as he let out a shaky breath against your lips. But his voice was steady and firm as he warned you, “Careful with that, principessa.”

But you wanted to see him crumble, you wanted to see him lose control more than anything. So you leaned up at him, chased his lips and gave him your best doe eyes. His eyes gleaned dangerously in the relative darkness of the classroom as you tightened your grip on his shirt. “Theo…,” you asked in a pleading voice, trying to convey how damn needy he made you feel, how much his touch riled you up until all you could think was him, him , him, and the way he pressed against your pulsing core. “Per favore…”

Again, the Italian seemed to do the trick. Something in his gaze shifted as his eyes snapped down to your lips, and further down, over your heaving chest to your bare thighs, molding into the touch of his large hands. He was panting, fighting against the utter loss of control, but when you repeated the words in the most adorable English accent and rolled your hips against his once more, he couldn’t help himself any longer.

Theo’s head dipped down to your neck and you mewled when you felt his lips trail down your throat. His tongue licked a long stripe up the column of your throat, where your breath hitched and he chuckled darkly against your skin. Breathing in your perfume that always fucking lingered in the room when you were there, so near and out of reach, he connected his lips to your sensitive spot and felt a jolt of pleasure at your high-pitched gasp.

Suddenly, for the split of a second, your mind cleared up and you tugged his head away from your neck in a panic. You only got a low growl in response, along with a roll of his lips that made you mewl softly and slap a hand over your mouth at the embarrassing sound. “Th- theo," you managed to stutter out, the words falling clumsily from your kiss-bitten lips. You only got a throaty sound in return and your grip in his hair tightened. “Theo, h- he can’t see.”

That, if nothing else, made him halt his relentless ministrations of your neck and raise his head to look down on you. You looked so utterly irresistible in the dim moonlight shining through the windows. Your hair a mess, your lips plump and swollen, your eyes wide and fearful. Fearful for him. Merlin, he felt like he had the whole world at his fingertips. His intense gaze made you shudder as you leaned up again, a pleading look in your eyes and laced into the tone of your voice. “Theo-”

But before you could say more, he cupped your cheeks and kissed your temple, breathing in through his nose as if commanding oxygen back into his lungs. “I’ll just have to do it somewhere else then, won’t I?” he said under his breath, lips departing from yours kin so he could get another proper look at you and your flushed face. “Somehwere he can’t see.” His tone was so utterly seductive you could only nod, you knew your voice would break if you had tried to reply.

But he tutted softly, tilting his head and you recognized the teasing look in his eyes. His hand cupped your cheek and his thumb ran over your bottom lip, eyes following the way it gave into his touch. “You’ve got to use your words, principessa, tell me what to do.”

Frustrated with his teasing, you moved your hips against his until his hands gripped at your waist, keeping you in place. He raised his brow at you. “Not cheating, are we?” One of his hands ran over your thigh gently, making any and all protest die on your tongue. A sharp gasp left your lips when it surged forward and cupped your crotch. Biting down on your lip, you suppressed a moan as he engulfed your clothed core with his large hand and tilted his head at you, brow still raised. “Anyone ever touched you there, carina?” A mocking smile curled his lips. “Anyone but yourself, I mean.”

Panting pathetically, you shook your head and he cooed at you, gently rubbing his palm over your cunt in a way that had you squirm against his hold. “H- ha, no one,” you gasped, hiding your blushing face in his biceps as your fingers curled into his shoulders, keeping you steady. “No one’s touched me there but y- you, Theo.”

Though Theo might have seemed all calm and collected, his mind was spinning at your words. With the revelation that he’d be the first man to touch you, to claim you, to ruin you for any other pathetic guy that might attempt to take his place. Because you belonged to him. He had to suppress a groan at the thought, but commanded himself to discipline. This night was yours, he was yours, and he had to keep his mind focused on you, on your pleasure.

In one motion, he hiked up your skirt until it was bunched up around your midriff, giving him the perfect view of your white lace panties against the dark wood of the desk. Licking his lips, he met your wide-eyed gaze. “Lay down on the desk, principessa.” That was right. You would be his princess tonight.

With great satisfaction, he watched you follow his order immediately. Your back met the wood of the desk and you suirmed against his hold to get comfortable, staring up at the ceiling. Your heart beat against your ribs like crazy, the sound of it filling your ears. His face had disappeared from your sight. All you could feel now were his hands, one keeping your hips in place, the other running a slow pair of fingers up your clothed folds. Your breath hitched in your throat and you bit down on your bottom lip in an attempt to stifle the embarrassing sounds building up in your throat.

His next command sounded, soft but firm. “Spread your legs.” You did, thighs trembling, and you propped yourself up on one elbow just in time to see his eyes widen at the sight of you. Registering even the smallest movement, his eyes snapped up at you and you immediately laid back down on the surface of the desk, making him smile softly.

Theo got to his knees, nudging your thighs further apart and reveled in the abashed sounds coming from you. His fingers halted their movements on your clothed cunt to hook themselves around the hem of your lace panties and tug. A small squeak left your mouth and he chuckled. “So responsive…” In one tug, he slid off your underwear and discarded it somewhere next to him.

Your cunt was just as cute as he had imagined, and glistening with slick in the pale moonlight. Bringing his fingers back down to your cunt, he collected some of the substance, making you jolt. “All that for me?” he asked, teasingly, catching your frantic nod out of the corner of his eye. Then, he dove down and his lips met your puffy folds.

Shocked by the sudden feelings of his mouth against your cunt, you slapped your hand over your mouth to muffle the moan that had threatened to escape you. But it was hard to keep your mind on the possible risk of getting caught in this utterly humiliating position when his tongue licked a long stripe up your folds, before diving in as if you were his last meal on earth.

Feeling his nose against your folds, his lips closed around your clit and you stifled another moan. With a low rumbling sound, one of his hands left your thigh and out of the corner of your eye, you caught him flick his wand at the door, suddenly deafening the sounds of wind howling in the courtyard. Before you could fully realize that he had just cast a muffliato charm on the door, his hand shot up and closed around both of your wrists, yanking them down and pinning them down against your hips. This had the added effect of stopping them from bucking against his face as he took advantage of the new angle to delve into your pussy like it was the sweetest thing he'd ever tasted.

When he sucked at your clit, you moaned loudly, unable to muffle the sounds with your pinned-down hands, and your cheeks heated with shame. But Theo only chuckled against your folds, feeling his cock harden painfully against the confines of his trousers. Your little moans and mewls were music to his ears, and he worked his tongue tirelessly against your clit, eager to elicit more from you.

Releasing your other thigh, the hand that wasn’t holding down your bucking hips and binding your wrists wandered up to your cunt and he slowly entered his index finger into your tight little hole. He chuckled into your glistening folds when your back arched off the desk. What he wasn’t prepared for, however, was the cry of his name that left your throat.

He damn near jolted, feeling blood rush towards his cock and, as if on instinct, his finger curled up inside of you, eliciting a strangled moan from you. He delved back into your warmth, working on your pretty pink hole with his index finger and sucking and licking at your clit until you were writhing and squirming against the desk, hips bucking helplessly but being held down by his unrelenting grip. Again, you mewled his name and he groaned into your pussy, feeling his knees grow weak and his head grow foggy.

Dio, how he could have listened to you saying his name like this forever. How often had he pictured you, whining and moaning, his name rolling off your tongue so filthily? But none of his filthy dreams could have prepared him for the real thing. His hips bucked helplessly into mere air when you moaned his name again, high-pitched and desperate as you shook under his hold. You were heavenly.

Theo's ministrations on your poor cunt were relentless, systematic and meticulous as you felt your insides tighten with white hot pleasure. You were barely in control of your whole body anymore, it felt as if he was a puppeteer, tugging knowingly at your strings and making you jolt and squirm, making you dance for him on the hard surface of the desk. All you could feel was him, all of your senses overtaken with white-hot pleasure. Your ears were ringing, so that you could barely make out your own words, repetitions of his name stumbling from your lips like a prayer.

He groaned against you, his grip on you tightening as his finger pistoned in and out of you, steadily working to make you unravel completely. “Che bei suoni, carina,” he moaned against your folds, liking up a long stripe and making your breath hitch audibly. “Una ragazza così brava, cazzo, such a good girl.”

His words made you whine as a coil tightened in your lower abdomen. You could almost feel his grin against your clit as his tongue darted out to draw circles on it and nearly drive you mad with the electrifying sensation. “You like being called a good girl, don’t you, carina?”

You could only mewl helplessly in response and his finger met that spot in you with a harsh thrust that had you cry out his name in ecstasy. “I asked you a question,” he growled and you felt tears form in your eyes at the overwhelming mounting of pleasure. Another finger of his started to draw circles on your clit, meticulous and experienced, as his grim blue eyes entered your vision, alight with something dangerous.

Nodding helplessly, you tried to force your tongue to form words as he knowingly hit every spot inside you that had you fall aprt and trash against his hold. “I- fuck, yes!”

A lazy smirk tugged at his lips as he dipped his head back down, continuing his ministrations on your cunt. You attempted to roll your hips against his face, chasing the pleasure, but he tutted at you and pressed your hips down, making you sob in frustration. “Poor girl,” he chuckled against your hot wetness, “Can you take another finger, dolcezza?”

You nodded shakily, small whines of “yes, yes, yes,” filling the air. Your walls stretched deliciously around him when he added another finger. Throwing your head back with a moan, your thighs closed without your permission and finally, Theo released your wrists and hip to keep them parted, mumbling curses in Italian against your heat. His fingers curled up against the spot he now found with infuriating accuracy and instinctively, your hand shot up to your mouth to stifle the cry of pleasure threatening to burst past your lips.

But Theo seemed none too pleased with that, as his hand came down to deliver a not so gentle slap against your pussy. A cry of his name left your throat as your hips bucked with the delicious mix of pleasure and pain.

To stop yourself from covering your mouth again, you moved your trembling fingers down to his hair, where they gripped his curls in a desperate attempt to ground yourself. Theo didn't seem to mind, his tongue working restlessly on your clit, and he barely grunted when you tugged at his curls, another flash of burning pleasure shooting through you, making your thighs tremble in his hold.

Lost in pleasure, you could barely control your babbling anymore as everything and anything crossing your mind made it past your lips without filter. “H-he’ll kill you,” you hiccuped weakly, tears running down your cheeks as you felt the pleasure mount inside you. “Mattheo, he’ll m-murder you for th-this, s-so ah!” You gasped when his fingers curled inside you again, working meticulously on bringing you to your high as your walls clenched in a vice-like grip around them.

“I-I hope you’ve made peace with your life,” you slurred with half a mind and his tongue only worked faster on your clit as he hummed in content. “Cazzo- then I’ll die, carina. Dio sa, this is fucking worth it.”

Ramming his fingers into your squelching cunt, he looked up at your writhing and moaning figure, feeling something swell, not only in his trousers but in his chest. He had you like this. You, the untouched, off-limits sister of his best friend, the temptation he could never give into, the prize he could never have- and now he had you. Right where he wanted you. Falling apart on his tongue and his fingers, moaning his name to the heavens, eyes squeezed shut in pleasure. And fuck him if he would earn Mattheo’s wrath, fuck him if he got into hell for sullying something so good, so pure, because it just felt so damn good.

You felt so damn good, he could feel himslef becoming light-headed, not even being inside you, alone from the image of you arching your back off the table, your pretty face flushed and scrunched up with pleasure. The image of his darkest dreams. He himself couldn’t even differentiate whether the praises and curses against your tongue were in English or his mother tongue as your high-pitched moans filled his ears.

His fingers hit the spot that had you tremble mindlessly again, and again, and again, until your walls clenched tightly around them and something between a sob and a moan broke out of your throat. “Th- theo, I’m cumming!”

As your high washed over you, you could do nothing but gasp and shake against him, as pleasure as you’d never once felt it crashed down on you and nearly made you see the pearly gates of heaven. A loud cry left your throat, and you didn’t even have half a mind to be thankful for the muffliato charm he had put on the door. All you could do was absolutely fucking fall apart on his fingers.

They worked you steadily through your high, his middle finger rubbing lazy circles on your clit as the world slowly took shape again around you and you felt his lips travel up the side of your jaw. “Such a good fucking girl, dolcezza, give me everything you've got.”

And give him everything you did, riding out your high against his fingers until you collapsed in his arms. He caught you before you could hit the table, fingers rubbing over your overstimulated cunt one last time before he dipped down to kiss you. You should have been embarrassed about tasting yourself on his tongue, but to your own surprise, a low moan left your lips. He swallowed it up eagerly, whispering praises between kisses. “Y’ did so well, my sweet fucking girl,” he mumbled, making you sigh into his next peck, “Did so damn good.”

As your breathing slowly calmed and no longer came out in ragged gasps, he helped you sit up and stood before you, before the desk, smiling down at you with one of those rare smiles of his. The lower half of his face was dripping with your release and your cheeks grew impossibly hot. “S- sorry,” you mumbled, raising a shaky hand to wipe some of it away, but he caught your hair mid motion and pressed a trail of kisses over your palm, down the skin of your upper arm.

When your arm fell slack against your side, he gave you a teasing grin and darted out his tongue to lick some of your juices from his lips. Chuckling at your wide eyes, he pressed his lips to your temple and ran a hand through your hair. “How’re you feeling, carina?”

“Uh-,” you muttered , voice raspy and shaky. “G- good. I think.” An abashed smile tugged at your lips and he returned it with his casual confidence, cupping your face to kiss you softly. His lips met yours in a tender caress and you leaned into him as if he were your lifeline.

Slowly, the realization of what you had just done dawned on you. And you noticed another thing: something firm and hard pressing against your thigh. With trembling fingers, you sneaked a hand between your bodies, hovering over the tent in his trousers for a moment of hesitation before palming it through the fabric. In an instant, his grip on your face tightened and he let out a low hiss. You only felt spurred on, but to your disappointment, his larger hand wrapped around your wrist and gently tugged it away from his clothed erection.

“Not that I would ever spurn your touch,” he mumbled sheepishly, visibly more light-hearted than before but with a certain strain in his voice that undoubtedly was the result of his unresolved business down there. “But not tonight.”

He smiled at the way your brows scrunched up in a frown, hands fisting his shirt as you pulled him closer. “But-”

He shut you up with another kiss that had you cave in immediately, rubbing slow circles on your exposed thigh. “Another night,” he whispered against your lips, “I’ll take care of this myself.” Your eyes fluttered shut with the way he kissed you so gently, yet unrelenting. The tone of his voice told you, unmistakably, that you had no chance convincing him to let you help him.

“But, don’t you want it?” you breathed against his lips, a certain anxiety curling in your stomach.

But he only chuckled, somewhat darkly, and continued to rub circles on your thigh. “Dio, of course I want it. Ah-” With a soft tut, he caught your wrist once more and guided it to his lips to press a soft kiss onto the back of your hand. “Let me worry about that.” There was no room for argument or protest, so you sighed and shrugged, making him smile again. You had rarely witnessed a smile of his last so long. Usually, it were quips of amusement, glimpses behind the stony facade, but he seemed to be in an exceptionally good mood.

“Another time,” you agreed, leaning up to welcome another peck of his lips. Retreating slowly, you opened your eyes at him and lost yourself in the cerulean pools, brimming with something much more affectionate than lust. And suddenly, it felt almost natural to say it. “Ti amo, Theo.”

Groaning, Theo had to seriously refrain himself from throwing all caution to the wind and fucking you stupid right then and there on the desk. But he needed your first time to be special, not in an abandoned old classroom. Ti amo, Theo. You loved him. Damn right, you did. His heart thrummed dangerously fast against his lips, almost as painful as the strain in his pants. Ignoring the ache in his cock, he pressed a long kiss onto your burning cheek. Merlin, you were just adorable. “Anch’io ti amo, carina,” he muttered and relished in the smile that lit up your face.

It took a lot of ciorridors until you managed to overcome the uncontrolled trembling in your legs, and even more until you were able to walk without clutching his arm for support. Still, Theo kept his arm around your waist as he led you down the stairs to the dungeons, never wanting to move it again. Your hand fisted his shirt against his back and from time to time, he leaned over to press a kiss onto your cheek, making you giggle. It echoed off the walls, but neither of you could have cared less. Theo felt like he would hex anyone who disturbed you two now into next week. But nobody did cross your path on the way down, all the partygoers seeming to have left for their dorms or homes already.

At the door to the boy’s toilets only a few corridors away from the common room entrance, Theo slowed his steps and you came to a halt before him. With great reluctance, he let go of your waist and got a hold of your hand to press another kiss onto it- like the chivalrous bastard he was. Your cheeks heated at the simple gesture and a silly smile made your eyes shine.

“Fix that hair and dress before you enter the common room,” he muttered softly into the silence, one hand on the door handle to the boy’s toilets, the ache in his pants reminding him of his unfinished business. “Or your brother might get to the Gryffindor bloke before I do.”

Nodding, you let go of his hand, but didn’t turn away. something unspoken, something unanswered still hovered between you, and you needed to dress it before you could enter the privacy of your dorm. “So…,” you said, hesitantly, “Are we, like…?” You left the question unanswered and he raised a brow, mocking you. Theo offered you no assistance as you stuttered yourself through the sentence. “Well, are you my boyfriend now?”

“Well, what did you think?”

Now it was your turn to raise your brows at him, though a smile still danced around your slightly swollen lips. “Don’t pretend like you aren’t the castle’s biggest manwhore, Theo.”

Feigning offence, he leaned against the wall and looked you up and down.”A manwhore? Amore, I just risked my life for you. That has to mean something.” Though his tone was mocking, his eyes held a disarming severity that you recognized with a small nod. His lips twitched. “You really think I’d let myself fall for you just to play around?” He lowered his head, tilting it slightly. “You want proof? Fine. Ask me if I’ve thought about anyone else tonight.”

“I believe you,” you laughed, averting your eyes and shaking your head at him, an affectionate warmth filling your chest. Feeling brave, you leaned up to press a longer peck to his cheek and winked at him as you lowered yourself from your tip-toes.

“Well, have fun,” you smiled, teasingly, before turning on your heel to leave for the common room, glee and excitement coiling in your stomach into such a tight knot you would have felt the desire to jump up and down- if only your legs hadn’t still felt so weak.

He watched you turn a corner before you disappeared, something dangerous and dark twisting behind his ribcage when he saw you wobble slightly on your feet. Whatever it cost him, he would tell Mattheo. Because there was no way in fucking hell there would be a single sould left in this castle in doubt about who you belonged to.

a/n: if you've actually come this far, you have my respect: you just made it through 20k words of this. and for that, you deserve a reward 🏅

taglist: @lady-peiskos @hazeldunst @juliet-017 @furioussharkcat @onlytenkos @jannie-belaerys @blueflowerpots @whosyourgnomie @revesephemeres @longpondlibrary @aespaslut @hopeless--romamtic @s00ty-feet @iamheretoread1234 @devilsadvcte @jolly4holly

[iniquitousyearning]

theodore nott. | you’re mine tonight

summary: theodore nott is always willing to be used by you. if you’re going to use somebody, just let it be him.

word count: 800

tags: headcanons that once again turned into this. i try to keep things short, apparently im physically incapable🥹 nothing crazy here other then implied fwb, slight angst, reader heartbreak kinda cuz cormac sux, theo being good with words as always, make out session at the end

Theodore Nott, who watches as you and your situationship, Cormac, argue every single day.

Theodore Nott who sees you cry constantly as a result of these arguments, tonight no unorthodox exception as you come storming back into the Slytherin common room with tears streaming down your cheeks, kicking off your heels and throwing yourself down next to him on a secluded corner couch.

Your eyes, brimming with anguish and pleading for solace, lock onto his, a look he knows all too damn well.

Theodore Nott, who doesn’t have to ask, doesn’t have to pry, who already knows exactly why you’re here, sitting next to him, when you could be literally anywhere else. He reads the story in your tear-streaked cheeks and your trembling hands. It’s a scene he’s witnessed so many times he’s lost count.

Theodore Nott, who merely closes his book, runs a hand through his tousled hair, and rests the other on your knee. PDA is off the table since you don’t want Cormac to find out—even though he’s been sneaking off with more girls than you have fingers on both hands—so Theo simply looks at you with those steady, knowing eyes and whispers, “your dorm or mine?”

You swallow, grateful gaze shifting toward the door. It’s always so fucking easy with Theo.

“Always yours,” you murmur, rising to your feet and picking up your discarded heels. Without waiting for his response, you start toward his dorm, certain he’s right behind you. He always is.

Theodore Nott, who shuts the door and locks it behind you as the two of you enter. The lights are dim, the shadows of the Black Lake ripple against the walls, and moonlight flickers throughout the room. Theodore Nott, who notices the look on your face well before you do, who can already sense the words that are about to slip past your teeth.

Theo knows well enough by now that you only come to him when you’re hurt, and you never feel good about it until he reassures you it’s okay. He sees it in the subtle shift of your gaze, the furrow of your brow, the tremble of your lips—a silent plea for forgiveness he’s already long granted you.

“I’m sorry, Theo…”

Theodore Nott, who understands you just need someone to hold you right now. Someone who will look at you with warmth, with desire, with need, someone who will give you all of himself in this moment. A shoulder to cry on, bedsheets to lie on.

“It’s okay, bella, don’t apologize…”

Theodore Nott who steps closer, his hands stern yet gentle as they cup your cheeks, drawing your gaze to his. Reverent blue eyes glisten like two oceans, drowning you in their warmth. Theodore Nott who brushes the damp from your cheeks with his thumbs before leaning down, grazing his lips over yours, feather-light.

“I’ve said it about a million times, you know I’ve already told you—“

Theodore Nott, who interrupts his own sentence by pressing his lips to yours, inhaling a sharp breath as your salty sweetness ignites in his mouth. Tears mingle with your cherry lip gloss, his hands sliding back into your hair, and he’s lost and then found again—as though you’re the only beacon in a world shrouded in darkness, the answer to all his unspoken questions.

Theodore Nott, who needs this, who wants this just as much, if not more, than you do.

“—if you’re gonna’ use somebody…use me…”

Theodore Nott who practically growls those words into your mouth as fervour takes over, as hunger roars harder and stronger with each passing second. One hand grips your hair, holding your lips to his while the other falls to your blouse, slender fingers undoing the buttons with a speed that leaves you breathless.

“…I’m so fucking willing to be somebody you need…”

His fingers deftly slip the last button free, his hand sliding beneath the fabric to feel the warmth of your skin. The touch sends shivers through you, your body responding to his every move. His lips trail down your jaw, pressing hot kisses along your neck, making you gasp. Theodore's grip on your hair tightens just enough to tilt your head back, exposing more of your throat to his eager mouth.

The room seems to shrink around you, the flickering moonlight casting shadows that dance across the walls, mirroring the wild rhythm of your hearts. He pulls back just enough to look into your eyes, his gaze dark and intense.

"You drive me insane…how much I fucking want you drives me insane," he admits, his breath hitching. "Every time I see you with him…every time I see what he does to you…it kills me…”

Theodore Nott whose words are like gasoline to an open flame, igniting a fierce need within you, scorching while simultaneously taming the desire to be desired. Theodore Nott who groans as you clutch at his shirt, pulling him closer, desperate to close any distance between you as he shifts you around and begins backing you up toward his bed.

"Show me, Theo," you whisper. "Show me how much you want me."

With a growl, Theodore crashes his lips back to yours, the kiss searing and urgent. He moves with you effortlessly, guiding you towards the bed, never breaking the contact. As you fall back onto the soft sheets, his body follows, covering you completely. His hands roam over your skin, leaving a trail of heat in their wake, each touch more intoxicating than the last.

"You're mine tonight," it’s a promise. Not a question. "No one else's. Just mine."

pretty divider made by: @saradika-graphics

[gemissleeping]

Moonlight & Masks

Theodore Nott x Fem!Reader

Summary: Newly turned Death Eater Theodore Nott is tasked with hunting down Harry Potter and the Order Operative protecting him. Only to discover the person he hunts happens to be the one he loves.

Length: 1.8k

Notes: Back from the dead (I am so sorry things are hectic and I don’t want to release a chapter I’m not feeling) with this little one from @thatdammchickennugget’s Hogmarch Challenge! Death Eater Theo. Use of the killing curse. Angst as always because we know I live for the drama. For those of you wanting more Veleveteen, in my head this occurs in the same story universe (which I know isn’t the same as an update pls forgive my sins). Not proofread, we have deadlines to meet.

The sting of lightning hung in the air as she weaved through the trees. The thundering footfall still pressing behind her. Lungs burning with need, she pressed on. Dizzied from the turbulent descent she and Mad Eye had suffered.

Alastor. He was dead.

She hadn’t even been able to take his body from the dirt where it had fallen. And the Death Eaters certainly wouldn’t afford him the dignity of a proper burial.

Tears clawed at her cheeks as she bounded over the tree roots twisting across the forest floor. Thinking only of Mad Eye, the way his voice had simply ceased when the curse had hit him. No cry of pain, no strangled wail. Only silence.

Her grip on her wand tightened as her tears ran hot. The taunting laugh of one of her pursuers echoing through the trees as they crashed after her. The darkness spinning endlessly around her. It wasn’t fair. None of it was fair. Gone were the rules they had been taught to play by. Humanity sacrificed for power. Thoughtless with rage, she cast back her wand into the leering shadows. Letting the words fall from her lips before her heart could catch them.

Avada Kedavra

The green light felt as though it tore right through her as it ricocheted from her wand. Scattering through the trees and hitting its mark with a crack. Ripping at her chest with blistering heat, forcing her ribs apart until the spell dissipated. The laughter ceased. That same absence that had followed earlier resting through the trees. She was dragged to a still.

The force of the spell brought her to her knees. Bark breaking the skin of her palms, blood blooming as she fell forward in agony. She felt it being torn from her throat just now; some vital piece of herself. What she had given to cast the curse. The crack rung through her ears. Trailing her even as its ringing grew soft, faded into the background of the forest’s creaks and stutters. She could feel the heaving of her chest, dizzied by the absence that had been dug into her.

Before she could break upon the forest floor completely, the snap of a twig behind her brought reality rearing back. Whipping to face the darkness, she searched the teasing shadows that surrounded her. Nothing answered but the wind. She pushed herself up on bloody palms, staggering towards the nearest tree. Catching the glint of a metal smile hit by moonlight as she turned. But it was too late.

The Death Eater was on her in a second, wand jammed to her throat. One hand wrenching her head back by the hair. A mutilated snarl coming from the unmoving mask.

“Potter.”

She still had Harry’s face.

The figure towered before her, gloved hand pulling harshly at her hair as she strained against their grip. More tears pricking at her eyes as she faced the smooth and indifferent wall between them. Both of them were wearing masks really. But the thought brought little comfort to the nausea biting at her.

She was going to die someone else.

Wand to her throat, she closed her eyes. Preparing for the flurry of hot green light. Perhaps it was what she deserved, it could be a mercy. This way she would never have to truly face what she had done. There was no doubt in her mind that the person before her would finish the job. And yet she waited, but nothing came.

Opening her eyes once again she found him watching her carefully. Blue eyes clouded with something foreign, his silver mask lodged in the dirt at their feet. Looking at her with nothing but quiet restraint. She felt her throat close at the sight of him, all defences leaving her as she stared up at the boy before her.

“I asked something of you, when I saw you last,” Theo spoke lowly, wand still jammed to her throat as though he didn’t fully trust the person he saw before him. “Do you have an answer for me?” His voice fell flat against the forest air, low and heavy as his empty eyes.

His words sent another wave of dizziness crashing through her. The events of the past ten minutes threatening to bring everything up from her stomach. She wanted to fall into his chest and let his robes soak up her tears. To slice her palm clean across his cheek. Fall to the forest floor and not get up. Beg him to finish the job.

But instead, she did as she was told; she stayed quiet. Like the good little soldier they had taught her to be. Counting the freckles and moles that dotted the skin of his cheeks like they were her favourite constellations.

“Answer the question,” Theo snarled again, shoving her back forcefully. Back hitting the jagged edges of bark with an audible crack as a groan left her. Still she didn’t speak, blinking up at him as her head spun from when it had made contact with the tree.

“I’ll do it Potter,” he hissed lowly. His wand cutting further into her throat as she struggled to breathe under its pressure. He barely seemed to notice, staring down at her with empty eyes. “Don’t think I won’t just because you have something I want.”

She only watched him carefully, trying not to let herself give it away as she watched him. Staving off the clouds of memory that threatened to consume her at the sight of him.

“No?” He chimed, a sharp edge to his warm voice, “Very well.”

He drew a breathe, anger taking him in its burning grip. But just as the curse he had planned to cast was forming a whisper of air on his lips; she felt it. The rippling beneath her skin. Pulling and tugging and melting at the fibres of her. She bit her tongue as the pain of it ripped through her. Reforming beneath the skin as everything cracked and popped in and out of place. Until only she remained, swimming in Harry’s ridiculous hoodie.

Theo still had her pressed against the tree, all colour drained from his face as he watched the skin seem to melt and reform on her bones. His hands began to shake. She watched him with distant eyes, trying to hold onto what little restraint remained.

“What’s wrong?” She asked hoarsely, her throat aching from the potion’s due course. Theo’s wand still hesitantly pressed to the delicate skin of her throat. “Can’t do it anymore?”

It happened like the break of a dam. Her name fell from his lips in a rush of credence. Lips falling apart at the sight of her before him, what he’d almost done without realising. His wand dropped in a stagger, as though she had struck him. The darkness of the forest enclosing around them.

“You left me there,” he breathed suddenly, as though it hadn’t meant to come out. She blinked up at him as confusion swept her. But the lost look he carried only washed away as his eyes hardened.

“What?” she breathed.

“You left me there alone,” he spoke again, ignited with a sudden rage. His words were like kindling to her own. Her brow cracking with anger.

“No, Theo,” her voice shook, “you left me.” Theo looked to the ground, shaking his head gently in denial. He took a hesitant step forwards, as though to reach for her. But she stepped back, her spine hitting the tree. “Do you know how much I had to go through alone before I got out of there? Because you were too busy running off with Draco, or-”

He closed the distance between them with a blistering intensity.

“Do you know what it’s been like since? Without you?” It came out in a boiling whisper. “He wants your head almost as much as he wants Potter’s,” Theo’s eyes softened at the words, swept up in whatever memory they procured. “And I just have to sit there and take it, listening to the vile things they plan to do to you. Knowing there’s not a single fucking thing I can do about any of it, except for-”

He didn’t have to say it, the break of his voice said enough. The way his eyes fled from her own. He had meant to kill her.

“Why don’t you do it then?” She whispered, eyes brimming with more tears. Looking to the boy she had loved since she was too young to understand the word. “It would save me the-”

“Stop it.”

“I deserve it, don’t I? For leaving you. You said so yourself, in your letter. I read it you know.”

“No, I didn’t mean-”

“I know you’ve cast it before-”

“I said stop,” he bellowed, pressing himself against her in a flash of pent up fury. His body flush against hers as his chest heaved with the weight of his rage. “Even if I wanted to,” he whispered, his lips brushing lightly against her ear, “I can’t.” His hands tightened into fists, “He wants to do it himself.”

He peeled himself away from her, as though every inch of his skin that couldn’t feel hers was the worst form of torture. Drinking in every part of her except for her eyes, which he couldn’t bring himself to meet. She searched his, begging him to pull himself to meet hers.

“Is it that?” She breathed, fearful eyes rounded as she looked up to him. Searching for that thread that had always hung between them. His eyes grew tense as he saw what thoughts lay in hers, “Or is it because-”

“Stop.”

-you love me.

“Don’t,” he snapped, but even the sharp edge of his voice couldn’t distract from the despair swimming in his eyes. “Please,” he breathed, his head dipping towards her neck in defeat, but not daring to brush the skin, “don’t.”

He wanted to hold her, let his fingers trail across her cheeks, brush his thumb over her eyelashes. Just to make sure it was really her. Not some cruel trick made out to test his loyalty. But instead he let his breath fan across the bare skin of her neck. Knowing it was the only way he could allow himself to touch her.

“It was you I asked after,” his confession fell dead against the skin of her neck. He heard the breath she drew as though it was taken from him. Felt himself unravelling being so close to her now, after months of waiting and silence and searching.

Fuck it.

He’d be flayed for it, but everything could be damned. None of it mattered if he could feel her lips on his again. His hands flew to the delicate skin of her cheeks. Palms soaking in the remainder of her tears as his lips met hers. They parted effortlessly for him, welcoming him in as though she had been waiting just as he had. The softness of her lips balancing against his hunger. Her head tilted towards him, completely at his mercy beneath his calloused palms. Just as she should have been all this time.

[ahqkas]

Hello! I love your writings and I hope you are doing well <3 I would like to request Theo fluff on where reader has terrible time sleeping because she is use to having her teddy bear in her arms ever since she was a child. Like she thrown her teddy away because she was scared she would be make fun of. So she seeks Theodore so he in be in her arms. It’s just sweet fluff as Theodore smiles lovingly at her 🥺

-😴

TEDDY PICKER ; theodore nott

HARRY POTTER MASTERLIST!

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

YOU TOSSED AND TURNED IN YOUR BED, THE SILENCE OF YOUR DORMITORY ONLY AMPLIFYING THE RESTLESSNESS YOU FELT. You had tried everything — counting stars, breathing exercises, even reading the most mundane passages from your textbooks — but nothing worked. The familiar comfort of your teddy bear was absent, a void you had created out of fear of ridicule.

Frustration mounting, you finally sat up, the moonlight casting a gentle glow through the window into your room. You couldn’t shake the feeling of emptiness in your arms, the comforting weight of your childhood companion gone. With a sigh, you threw back the covers and slipped out of bed, your bare feet silent on the cold floor. There was only one place you could think of, one person you felt drawn to in your moment of need. Your beloved lover.

Quietly, you made your way through the darkened corridors, your heart pounding with both nerves and a strange sense of hope. You found yourself at the entrance to the Slytherin common room, hesitating only for a moment before whispering the password Theo had once shared with you in a moment of trust.

The room was dimly lit, a few embers glowing softly in the fireplace warmly. You navigated the shadows, your eyes adjusting to the darkness, and made your way to the boys’ dormitory. Standing outside Theo’s door, you took a deep breath before gently knocking on the wood.

A few moments passed before the door creaked open, revealing Theo’s sleepy yet alert form. His silver eyes softened with recognition and concern when he saw you so unexpectedly late at his door. “[Name]? What’s wrong?”

You felt a rush of embarrassment flood you, but the need for comfort outweighed the pride you held. “I . . . I can’t sleep. I know it sounds silly, but I used to sleep with a teddy bear. I got rid of it because I was afraid people would laugh at me, and now I can’t sleep without something to hold. I didn’t know where else to go.”

Theo’s expression softened further, a tender smile curving his lips. He reached out, gently pulling you into the room and closing the door behind you. The room was empty of the other boys, just with the two of you inside. “It’s not silly at all,” he murmured, guiding you towards his bed. “We all need something to comfort us.”

The Slytherin boy settled onto the bed and opened his arms, offering you the warmth and safety you so desperately craved. And with a grateful smile, you climbed in beside him, resting your head against his chest soundly. His arms encircled your form, pulling you close, and you immediately felt a wave of calm wash over you.

Theo’s fingers traced soothing patterns on your back, his breath warm against your hair. “You’re safe here,” he whispered and his voice sounded like a gentle lullaby. “I’ve got you.”

You nestled deeper into his embrace, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat lulling you into a sense of peace. The comfort of his presence filled the void left by your teddy bear, the warmth of his body easing the tension from your aching muscles.

And as sleep began to claim you, you felt Theo press a soft kiss to the top of your head, his sweet smile evident in the tenderness of the gesture. “Sweet dreams, bella,” he murmured, his voice filled with a quiet, unwavering affection he held for you.

In Theo’s arms, you found the solace you had been searching for, the comfort that only he could provide. And as you drifted off to sleep, you knew that this was where you belonged — safe, cherished, and wrapped in the loving embrace of the boy who had become your anchor in the night.

[beegomess]

Imagines and Headcanons || Slytherin Boys

Transporting you to the Harry Potter universe, where you interact exclusively with the cunning and enigmatic Slytherin boys.

Link to the Portuguese version on Wattpad

Requests are open✨🫶🏼

Obscenities will be with *

⊹˚₊‧ 𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔 ‧₊˚⊹

How others see you as a couple What is your relationship like? Their care of you seck They dreming about you* Meeting you after the breaking up They are your brother's best friend Your marriage with them Song that represents your relationship - Lana's Version Your honeymoon

⊹˚₊‧ 𝑰𝒎𝒂𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒔 ‧₊˚⊹

Blaise Zabini Fuck, I love everything about you*

Draco Malfoy coming soon

Lorenzo Berkshire Heated libraries* I can love you even in the dark

Mattheo Riddle She’s like me. I would die for her... I would kill for her* Tell your baby that i’m your baby In how many ways can you love him? Real love baby Is your father at home?* Take me back to the night we met

Theodore Nott Profane girl* Platonic loves I know I'll love you Are we bad for that? Summer wine* Can you be my sister?

Tom Riddle The girl who came from hell Loving you forever Do you know her? 'Cause I'm addicted

Random Imagines || Other characters

Dark Paradise || Theodore Nott

Link to the Portuguese version on Wattpad

Summary: Since they met, Y/N Malfoy and Theodore Nott have always been in the same social circles, but they were never close. Theodore, Draco's discreet friend who was always present at formal events, maintained an air of mystery that sparked Y/N's interest. At parties filled with alcohol and cigarettes, their conversations stood out for their depth and sincerity, revealing a sensitive and complex side of Theodore, different from the reserved image he presented to others.

As their interactions intensified, Y/N and Theodore began to understand each other in a unique way, sharing dilemmas and dreams. Their meetings, often under the moonlight or in libraries, became a journey of self-discovery and love. However, their emerging feelings faced challenges imposed by society and their own insecurities. Involved in a budding romance, they had to decide if they were willing to risk everything for this bond that flourished in the shadows.

Theodore Nott x Y/N Malfoy

Published chapters:

Prologue 01. Invisible Flirts 02. Childhood Crushes 03. Boy, you wanna come to my hotel, honey? 04. Swan Lake 05. How deep is your love? 06. Eyes on fire 07. Hidden Desires 08. Merry Crhistmas, Teddy 09. Scape 10. Sweet Dreams 11. Hints of jealousy 12. Dark days 13. Unexpected letters 14. Dances and feelings 15. Your halo’s full of fire 16. Friends come before boys 17. How'd it get so scandalous? 18. Holidays, Letters and Passions 19. Birthday gifts 20. Polaroids 21. Somebody's watching me 22. You drive me wild

[urfavfrenchgrl]

winter holidays part two

Mattheo Riddle x F!Reader ᥫ᭡ words: 3k ᥫ᭡ summary: your brother's best friend is spending the winter holidays at your family manor. A group snowball fight between Theo, Mattheo, Draco, Blaise and you turns competitive. But you only have your eyes on him. ᥫ᭡ Notes: F!Reader and Theodore Nott's sister.

part one

The morning came far too soon, pulling you from the restless haze of a night spent chasing thoughts you couldn’t seem to quiet. Sleep had been elusive, slipping through your fingers each time you closed your eyes. Your mind returned, over and over, to the scene from the night before: the swing creaking gently beneath you two, the cold bite of winter softened by Mattheo’s warm presence against you.

It wasn’t the chill of the night that had kept you awake, but the memory of his gaze—heavy, searching, and impossibly close. The way snowflakes had caught in his dark curls, the silver light turning them almost ethereal. You could still feel the weight of his jacket on your shoulders, the warmth of his hands brushing against your skin as he pulled you closer. And then there was the moment before you closed the door to your room: the unspoken tension, the way his eyes lingered as though he were memorizing you.

What would have happened if you hadn’t stepped away? If you had leaned in and kissed him instead of retreating? The thought left a strange ache in your chest, one you didn’t quite know how to name. But you would never know. You told yourself that much as you wrapped your robe around you and made your way downstairs, drawn by the faint sounds of voices and the smell of freshly brewed coffee.

The warmth of the dining room was a sharp contrast to the frosty stillness outside. Theo and Mattheo were already seated at the long wooden table, the remnants of breakfast spread before them. Theo looked up as you entered, his sharp blue eyes narrowing slightly.

“Well, good morning,” he said, his tone light but with an edge of suspicion. “You sleep in or something?”

“Something like that,” you replied with a small smile, making your way to the pot of coffee.

“The snow’s relentless,” Theo continued, motioning toward the window. “It must’ve dumped half a meter last night. We’re practically buried.”

Your hands froze for the briefest moment, the coffee pot halfway to your cup. “Oh,” you said lightly, forcing your voice to remain steady as you poured. “I hadn’t noticed.”

But you had. You could still see the way the snow fell softly around Mattheo, dusting his shoulders as he stood in the faint moonlight, his curls catching the white like a canvas. You hadn’t forgotten, not for a second.

“You were probably too busy dreaming of who-knows-what,” Theo teased, turning his attention back to his plate.

Mattheo, silent until now, glanced at you from across the table. His dark eyes met yours briefly, unreadable as ever, before he returned to his cup. Yet even that fleeting look sent a spark of warmth through you, one that you tried and failed to ignore.

You took your seat, the memory of last night pressing against the edges of your thoughts, and the snow outside continued to fall as if the world had paused just for you.

Theo leaned back in his chair, his coffee cup in hand, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “By the way,” he said casually, as though it were an afterthought, “I invited Draco and Blaise over. They should be here soon.”

You looked up, momentarily startled. “Draco and Blaise?”

He nodded, his smirk widening. “Yeah. Thought it’d be fun to have a snowball fight. You know how Draco gets—he’s convinced he’s unbeatable.”

The corners of your mouth twitched in what might have been amusement on another day, but the tension in your chest made it impossible to muster more than a faint smile. You did know Draco and Blaise well. Not as well as Mattheo, of course, but they had always been fixtures in Theo’s life—his closest friends from his first year at Hogwarts, present at every tedious pure-blood event you’d been forced to attend, their polished airs and practiced grins as much a part of those events as the crystal chandeliers and endless glasses of elf-made wine.

Normally, the thought of a snowball fight would have made you light up. You loved the snow, loved the way it softened the edges of the world, muffling sounds and blanketing everything in quiet beauty. But this morning, the excitement refused to come. The memory of last night hung heavy over you, a weight you couldn’t quite shake, and you knew Mattheo was at the heart of it.

“Not going to jump at the chance to pelt us all with snowballs, princess?” Mattheo’s voice broke into your thoughts, a teasing lilt to his tone. He rested his elbows on the table, his sharp eyes watching you like he could see right through you.

You shrugged, forcing a neutral expression. “Maybe I’ll just watch from the sidelines. Wouldn’t want to embarrass all of you.”

Theo snorted. “Please. You? Embarrass us? Stick to your books, Y/N. This is real competition.”

Mattheo’s smirk deepened, a flicker of something playful and dangerous in his expression. “Oh, come on, Theo. Don’t be too hard on her. Maybe she’s just afraid of getting her hair messed up. Can’t have our little princess looking anything less than perfect, can we?”

Your chest tightened at the nickname. He was doing it on purpose—you knew he was. Pushing just enough to see if he could make you squirm, to see if you’d break. It wasn’t unlike him to provoke you, but today, it felt sharper, more deliberate.

“I think I’ll be fine,” you said evenly, refusing to let him get under your skin. “Besides, you seem to spend more time on your hair than I do. Wouldn’t want to ruin that.”

Theo barked out a laugh, and Mattheo raised an eyebrow, his smirk never faltering. “Touché,” he said, his voice low and amused. “Guess we’ll just have to see if you’re as quick on your feet in the snow as you are with your mouth.”

You rolled your eyes, but your heart was pounding harder now, the tension between you crackling like electricity in the air. Mattheo leaned back in his chair, clearly pleased with himself, and Theo—oblivious as ever—stood and stretched, effectively breaking the moment.

“They’ll be here any minute,” he said, heading toward the door. “Better get ready, Y/N. Unless you really do plan on sitting this one out.”

You hesitated, your fingers tightening around your coffee mug. You didn’t trust yourself around Mattheo—not after last night, not with the way he was looking at you now. But the last thing you wanted was to give Theo any reason to suspect that something was amiss.

“I’ll join,” you said finally, your voice steadier than you felt. “But don’t cry when I beat you all.”

Theo laughed, disappearing into the hall to prepare, leaving you alone with Mattheo. He watched you for a moment longer, his smirk fading slightly, his expression turning more serious.

“You sure you’re up for it?” he asked, his voice quieter now, almost challenging.

You looked up at him, your jaw tightening. “I’m sure.”

His eyes flickered with something you couldn’t quite place, and for a moment, you thought he might say something else. But then he leaned back, the smirk returning. “Good. Wouldn’t want you to miss the chance to prove me wrong.”

And with that, he stood, leaving you alone with the memory of his teasing tone and the way his gaze lingered just a second too long. The snow outside glittered in the morning sun, beautiful and blinding, and you couldn’t help but wonder how you were going to survive the day.

You changed into your warmest clothes, layering a heavy knit sweater under your winter coat and wrapping a scarf snugly around your neck. The manor’s cold halls seemed to press in around you as you made your way toward the door, boots crunching lightly against the old wooden floors. From outside, you could already hear the voices of the boys, their laughter and taunts carrying through the frosty air.

As you stepped out into the bright, snow-covered grounds, the cold bit at your cheeks, and you pulled your gloves tighter over your fingers. Theo spotted you first, a wide grin spreading across his face as he waved you over. Blaise stood beside him, already armed with a snowball, his sharp features lit with mischief.

“About time,” Theo called out. “I was beginning to think you’d chickened out.”

You rolled your eyes, trudging through the snow to join them. “I had to mentally prepare myself to carry this team.”

Blaise let out a bark of laughter. “Bold words for someone who hasn’t even thrown a snowball yet.”

On the other side of the field, Mattheo and Draco stood huddled together, the latter’s pale blonde hair catching the sunlight like a beacon. They were already strategizing, Draco gesturing animatedly while Mattheo stood with his hands shoved deep in his coat pockets, watching you approach with a look that sent a shiver down your spine—one that had nothing to do with the cold.

Draco’s voice cut through the air, crisp and teasing. “You sure you can handle this, Nott? Or are you just here to cheer for your brother?”

You shot him a glare, already crouching to gather a handful of snow. “Don’t worry about me, Malfoy. Worry about yourself.”

Mattheo smirked, stepping closer to Draco as he sized you up. “Careful, princess. Wouldn’t want you to break a nail.”

Your grip on the snowball tightened, heat rising to your cheeks that you prayed looked like nothing more than the chill of the winter air. “I’ll break something, alright,” you muttered under your breath, earning a chuckle from Theo.

“Alright, alright,” Theo called out, waving his arms to signal a start. “Three against two. That means no crying when we win, Malfoy.”

“Not likely,” Draco scoffed, his grin sharp and challenging. “You’re about to learn what real strategy looks like.”

Mattheo stayed quiet, his smirk never fading as his dark eyes remained fixed on you. He crouched to gather a snowball, his movements slow and deliberate, as though he already knew this was less about the game and more about whatever invisible line the two of you kept dancing around.

The first few minutes were chaos. Snow flew through the air in every direction, shouts and laughter mingling with the crisp crackle of boots crushing snow. Blaise turned out to be a surprisingly skilled shot, his snowballs landing with precision and force, while Theo charged ahead like a bull, more focused on brute strength than aim.

You tried to keep your focus, but it was impossible not to notice Mattheo. He moved with a kind of easy confidence, dodging and throwing with an almost lazy precision that made it seem like he wasn’t even trying. And every so often, his gaze would find yours, a flicker of challenge in his eyes that sent your heart racing.

You barely had time to register your next move before Mattheo hurled a snowball straight at you, the impact hitting your shoulder with surprising precision. “That’s one!” he shouted smugly. “Better keep up, princess!”

“Don’t let him get to you!” Blaise yelled, already running to flank Draco.

But Mattheo wasn’t letting up. Every time you moved, it was as though he anticipated your steps, his snowballs striking closer and closer. His smirk only grew as you dodged one, then another, his taunts cutting through the air.

“Still think you can handle this?” he called, his tone maddeningly confident.

You bit your lip, a mix of frustration and determination coursing through you. Without thinking, you scooped up a handful of snow, taking aim.

“Watch and learn,” you muttered, letting the snowball fly.

The snowball struck Mattheo square in the face, the impact sending a puff of white powder into the air. His cocky smirk vanished as he stumbled back, momentarily stunned. For a moment, there was complete silence. Then, Blaise let out a whoop of laughter, clapping his gloved hands together.

“Did you see that?” Blaise crowed, pointing at Mattheo. “Perfect shot!”

Theo grinned, throwing an arm around your shoulders, his chest puffed out in mock pride. “That’s my sister,” he declared loudly, as if your victory was his own.

Mattheo, however, was far from amused. He brushed the snow from his face, his dark eyes narrowing as a slow, dangerous smirk replaced his earlier expression. “Alright, Y/N,” he said, his tone low and taunting. “You’re dead.”

Before you could react, Mattheo lunged, scooping up another handful of snow as he sprinted toward you.

“Oh, no, no, no!” you cried, laughing as you turned and bolted, your boots crunching through the snow.

“You better run!” Mattheo called after you, his voice laced with playful menace.

The others’ laughter faded into the background as you ran, your heart pounding in time with your footsteps. You glanced over your shoulder, catching sight of Mattheo hot on your heels, his curls bouncing as he pursued you.

“Is that the best you’ve got, Riddle?” you taunted breathlessly, your voice carried by the cold winter air. “Too slow!”

Mattheo let out a bark of laughter, his pace quickening. “Oh, you’re going to regret that, little brat.”

Your boots skidded slightly as you darted toward the edge of the forest, the thick trees looming ahead. The snow was deeper here, slowing your steps as you wove between the trunks, your laughter mingling with the sound of Mattheo’s footsteps close behind.

“You can’t run forever, Y/N!” he called, his voice teasing but edged with determination.

“Maybe I can,” you shot back, glancing over your shoulder just as your foot caught on a hidden root, sending you tumbling forward into the snow.

You barely had time to react before Mattheo was on you, his weight pressing you into the ground as he pinned you beneath him.

“Gotcha,” he panted, his breath visible in the icy air.

You squirmed beneath him, the cold snow soaking through your coat, but his grip on your wrists was firm. His body hovered just above yours, his knees bracketing your hips, his face inches from yours as he caught his breath.

“You—” you started, your voice breathless, “—are insufferable.”

“And you,” he countered, his dark eyes glittering with amusement, “are terrible at running away.”

His lips twitched into a smirk, but the playfulness in his eyes dimmed, replaced by something heavier. His gaze dropped to your lips, lingering there for a moment before snapping back to your eyes. “Do you always have to be so difficult?”

“Do you always have to be so arrogant?” you shot back, though your voice lacked its usual bite.

You tried to ignore the heat rising in your cheeks, but it was impossible with the weight of his body pressing against yours, the snow beneath you doing little to cool the fire building between you. The world seemed to shrink, the towering trees and falling snow fading into the background as you became hyper-aware of every point of contact—the way his fingers wrapped around your wrists, the way his breath ghosted across your skin.

The corners of his mouth tugged upward, his smirk softening. “Maybe.” For a moment, neither of you moved, the tension crackling like electricity in the icy air. His eyes dropped to your lips briefly, and your heart stuttered in your chest. The snowflakes that clung to his dark curls only made him look more unreal, and you cursed yourself for how badly you wanted to close the distance.

His head dipped slightly, his breath warm against your cold skin. Your chest tightened, every nerve in your body on high alert as his lips hovered inches from yours. You also wanted to push him away, to say something that would break the spell, but you couldn’t move.

“Mattheo,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “We can’t. Theo—”

“Do you always let your brother dictate your life,” he interrupted, his voice low and rough, “or is it just when it comes to me?”

The question hung in the air, heavy and unspoken for far too long. And then, before you could second-guess yourself, his lips were on yours.

The kiss was hesitant at first, as though testing the boundaries of what you would allow. But when you didn’t pull away, his hand cupped the side of your face, and the kiss deepened. It was electric—messy and hurried, but so full of unspoken desire that it left you breathless.

He pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours. His eyes were dark, his breath coming in soft puffs of white in the cold air. “Can we try that again?” he murmured, his voice quieter now, almost pleading.

You nodded, and he didn’t hesitate this time. His lips captured yours with an intensity that stole the breath from your lungs. This wasn’t a tentative brush or a cautious test—it was raw and unapologetic, fueled by the unspoken tension that had simmered between you for far too long. His hand slid into your hair, tangling in the strands, as he tilted your head to deepen the angle.

His tongue traced the seam of your lips, a silent plea for entrance, and without thinking, you parted them for him. The kiss deepened, his tongue sliding against yours in a way that made your knees weak, even as you were pinned beneath him. It was intoxicating, his taste—warm and heady, like something you could drown in if you weren’t careful.

His other hand gripped your waist, pulling you impossibly closer, as though he needed to feel every inch of you against him. The snow beneath you was cold, biting against your skin, but his kiss was fire—a scorching contrast that left you dizzy and grasping for more.

Each movement of his lips against yours, every deliberate stroke of his tongue, felt like a claim, as though he were staking a silent but undeniable ownership over the moment—and over you.

But the sharp sound of Theo’s voice echoed through the forest, shattering the moment like glass.

“Y/N! Mattheo! Where the hell are you?”

You broke apart instantly, your breaths ragged as you stared at each other, the reality of what had just happened crashing over you. Mattheo’s jaw clenched, his frustration visible, but he pushed himself up, extending a hand to help you to your feet.

As you brushed the snow from your clothes, you avoided his gaze, your cheeks burning despite the cold. Theo’s voice called out again, closer this time, and Mattheo swore under his breath.

“This isn’t over,” he said quietly, his tone firm but laced with something softer.

You didn’t trust yourself to respond, so you simply nodded, your heart still pounding as you started back toward the clearing together.

You weren’t sure what had just happened, or how you were going to face Theo—or Mattheo—after this. But one thing was certain: the line you’d both been so careful not to cross had been obliterated, and there was no going back.

[sugaryplum]

𓏲⋆. THEODORE NOTT FICS HALL OF FAME 𓈒 ⭒ ݁ .

so this summer marks a year since i started obsessing over this stupid stupid handsome beautiful amazing of a character and it is actually insane. i always used to have phases for different characters and it changed like every two weeks but for the past year it's been him and him only. embarrassing. but well – i've read a lot of amazing pieces of fiction about him so here i am to give some appreciation! these are my favourites with top notch writing and plot and portrayal of the character and everything else!!! in no particular order

spring breaks loose by @fangisms GOD i love her work!! she also wrote darling socialite which is possibly even more amazing (and i actually requested it hehe and i love it so much)

next we have @cassiopeiasdaughter (this is really just a list of my favourite authors here) with mirrorball (requested by me again, this is also maybe just a list of stuff i requested, i am shameless with this) and this cute little drabble about theo and the reader's cat <3

honestly i could just write everything i said before about everything that's coming next. i looove when @veryberryjelly does these events and here's my favourite one of these!!

this is smut and i feel weird recommending something smutty but its a really really well written thing so you need to read it if you like this type of thing

so i don't normally like to read series but i loooooved kiss with a fist by @theostrophywife!!! (sorry i can't find the og masterlist post in my likes to link it but you'll find it)

@patrophthia has some amaaaazing fics! love is sour grapes and take you to the basics and these plot bunnies and genuinely anything else by her! there's i think this fic set in the summer that i can't remember the name of. and the one based on "bewitched" by laufey! so good! and my favourite way of writing theo's character like ever

laughs in the courtyard is the cutest ever and i think one of the first fics i've read about theo?

these headcanons are straight out of my dreams!! often reread them just to have him more visualised in my head and some parts feel literally straight out of my brain

so i don't read angst almost at all, i like sweet and nice and happy things but moonlight & masks as well as mio, both in kind of the same vibe i just adore! i guess war angst i don't mind. especially when it's so good!

now this is kind of toxic and manipulative theo but i loooove control freak<3 i linked part two but obviously start with the first. both awesome

and last by not least @artytaeh is probably my favourite author here right now!! this masterlist has no misses only hits <3 you gotta read it all right now. again, this portrayal of theo and everything else is just perfect

okay thank youuuuuu for reading and i hope you read everything on this list because it's all fantastic! bye bye kiss kiss goodnight

[mommynott]

Slytherin Boys as Chase Atlantic songs

Slytherin boys headcanons

Warning: 18+, MDNI, SMUT, Slytherin boys headcanons and mood boards

Mattheo Riddle - Meddle About

Baby, show me what you’re doing, come and turn around

But you already got me feeling some type of way

Girl, just scream it out

I wanna see you undress now

Theodore Nott - Friends

Cause I ain’t got patience to slow down the pace

Face it, you want it, you crave it. Believe when I say that you’ll know once you taste it

Wish you’d let me stay, I’m ready now

But I’m not hurt, I’m tense

Lorenzo Berkshire - Moonlight

Could you show me the way again?

You’re falling in and out through a sunset

And I just want it all when the times right

Yeah, she’s about to fall for the third time

Tom Riddle - Church

Call me shallow, but I’m only getting deeper

Stay on the ground until your knees hurt

Don’t take my verses out of context

Baptize in your thighs ‘til it hurts

Draco Malfoy - The Walls

Sorry if I look a little lost

Had a little, now she’s wanting more

Telling me that I gotta behave, yeah yeah

This just might be one hell of a night

Blaise Zabini - Into it

The weathers only sunny when I’m under it

I’m just fucking lucky I was born with it

I’ve been tryna grow ‘cause people kill for it

These girls they come and go between my bed sheets

If y’all know me, you know I had to do a chase Atlantic x Slytherin boys

Thank you @slytherinslut0 for hyping me up to post this from our constant yapping💀

[hoaxriot]

CALL IT WHAT YOU WANT

pairings. theodore nott x fem!reader

synopsis. theo’s been the only one by your side even after everyone starts to hate you

──────────────────────

summer was at end and it was time for everyone to get on the train for hogwarts like every year. this time, you knew that everyone would look at you weirdly. it wasn’t unusual because you were already a slytherin and everyone already hated you. then rumors started at the end of last year and even your friends had distanced themselves from you.

it didn’t matter to you because theo who had been your best friend since first year, he was there for you. he didn’t believe those stupid rumors because he listened to you.

no one had heard from you over the summer, nor had anyone even seen you anywhere— theo had but he didn’t tell his friends. theodore even saw you a multiple times and at one of those times something shifted between you two. something happened, you two were no longer best friends, you were a couple that no one even knew of but theo could admit he did like that.

now he was standing on the platform with lorenzo on one side of him and mattheo on the other side waiting for draco and blaise, he was also discreetly looking for you in the crowd of people.

once he did, surprisingly pansy was walking next to you and you didn’t seem angry. you were laughing along with her. she had reached out to you a few weeks ago and came over so she could listen to you, she missed her best friend.

of course, girls and boys were staring at you but you didn’t look or even bark back at their weird glances. you didn’t care what they said.

the two of you walked onto the train and sat down, not really caring if the boys sat down because both of you had multiple things to tell each other that happened over the summer.

pansy was telling you something that happened with the group over the summer and how they hadn’t hung out like you guys usually did.

“hello, girls.” draco spoke as he opened the door and sat down as the other boys followed. theo immediately sat down beside you before anyone else could, he smiled at you making mattheo look at him confused.

the train ride was filled with tension until you broke it, everyone surprised you by apologizing but then everything was good after so it was good by you.

then it was time for hogwarts, dinner went by fast and then everyone decided to go down by the black lake like you usually did. at first, the boys (minus theo) said no because no one was talking but they couldn’t lie, they missed you and the group.

so that how you found yourself cuddled around a firw theo made because you said it was chilly. the group had noticed the way you two were acting but didn’t say anything, at least to the two of you.

until, lorenzo spotted something on your neck that shined in the moonlight. he leaned closer to see what it was which caught your attention, you stared at him with furrowed eyebrows confused on why he was leaning towards your chest.

“enzo,” you grabbed his head pushing it back with a confused laugh catching everyone’s attention , “what are you doing?” you questioned with your hand still on his head as he kept trying to look.

“you have a necklace on— she has a necklace on with a letter ‘t’ on it!” lorenzo exclaimed turning towards the group making your hand fall, theo turned towards you with a smile as you stared in shock at him. “ow!” he yelped when you kicked him.

“on why per-say, do you have a necklace with theos initial on it?” mattheo says looking towards you with a smirk, you scoffed.

“now, who says it’s theo’s?” you said but theo scoffed loudly making everyone’s eyes go wide when you snapped your head towards him, “what?” you whispered and he leaned closer.

“that is mine.” he said with his eyebrows furrowed, “yeah, duh! but you said you wanna keep it a secret?” you whispered back to him kind of forgetting about the people in front of you.

“we can hear you!” pansy yelled causing you and theo to jump back looking at the group like you had just been caught doing something bad.

“more important question is, why didn’t you tell me?!” she continued to yell as she stared at you making theo laugh but lorenzo was quick to cut him off, “don’t laugh, why didn’t you tell us?” then the boys started talking to theo as pansy sat beside you asking you questions.

so you couldn’t have heard the footsteps coming towards you, until you heard your name being yelled. as soon as you turned around you saw a drink being thrown at your face, a very sticky and gooey one. every gasped or yelped in shock.

“slut!” you heard a girl yell, then you heard pansy yell and then more commotion but you couldn’t open your eyes due to the drink. you felt someone rub your eyes, when you could open them you saw theo with his sleeves covered in the drink. turning your head to see pansy being dragged off of the girl.

after that, the group called it a night. theo walked you to your room waiting for you on your bed as you took a shower. you scrubbed your body making your skin red, finally you felt clean again and hopped out of the shower. changing quickly to go back to theo.

you spotted him under your covers as he waited for you, “shouldn’t you be in your own room?” you spoke to him sitting on your bed and closing your curtains and throwing a muffle charm. he smiled at you as you put yourself beside him.

“no.” theo replied shortly with a large smile before dragging your legs down and putting you two all the way under the covers, then grabbing his wand and using the light. you smiled at him as he brought his hand to your necklace and held it, you copied his actions and held onto his where your initial laid that the group had not noticed.

“are you okay?” he spoke bringing his hand to your cheek, rubbing your skin softly. you hummed a short answer, he knew you were lying but he also know it didn’t affect you that much, it was just bothering you.

you stared into his eyes that had a certain spark due to the light that made you smile, your eyes flickered down to his lips before quickly going back to his eyes. theo had noticed so he leaned closer bringing his lips to yours in a slow motion. he then flicked off the light as he flipped you onto his body making you laugh lightly.

“i love you.” he spoke against your lips making you smile moving your head to the crook of his neck lightly kissing it, “i love you.”

[cherrixpie]

HOW NOT TO DATE A SLYTHERIN

part five of five (and 1/2 🤫)

↬ being harry potter's sister wouldn't make dating theodore nott any easier - which was why you tried to hide it. after your failed attempt, wounds need mending and your brother a slap on the wrist.

↬ sfw; hurt/comfort; wc: 5.6k; cw: suggestive, self-deprecating thoughts; secret relationship trope, potter!reader, griffindor! reader

( masterlist )

The courtyard was silent except for the whisper of the wind rustling through the tree branches. The faint moonlight casted long, skeletal shadows across the stone. If Filch turned up now, you didn't think you’d have it in you to even hide. You sat hunched over on a cold stone bench, arms wrapped tightly around yourself against the cool night air. The tears finally slowed, leaving your face damp and your chest aching.

The weight of your brother's words still clung to you like nasty glue, tenacious and heavy, each accusation replaying in your mind over and over again, like a taunt. You weren't naive. You were capable of thinking and deciding for yourself. Or were you? You think he cares about you? you heard Harry's voice echo in your mind. But of course he did. Pulling your legs to your chest and resting your chin onto your knees, you rocked slightly in an effort to calm yourself. Theo liked you. It wasn't impossible. There was something lovable about you, there had to be.

You’d have never doubted Theo, but you began to doubt yourself. Had you been deceiving him into thinking you were desirable by being Harry's sister? There is more to you than just that, a tiny advocate for yourself tried to argue, but the devil on your shoulder shut him up. Was there any other explanation for Theo to be interested in you, than that he saw something in you that you weren't? Frustrated by yourself, you wiped at your cheeks, but fresh tears started to spill and you buried your face in your hands, bundled up against the cold.

Of course Theo liked you. But Harry's words elicited thoughts of doubt in you, a doubt you’d always had and was hard to quell, a doubt that Theo had almost dispersed but now hit you with full force. You weren’t sure if you were angrier at Harry for saying them or at yourself for letting them get to you. Not that he had meant it like that. Harry would never suggest you weren't good enough for Theo, he’d have it the other way around. That Theo had deceived you, tricked you, used you. As if he were the only one with a mind, as if you were a child.

The chill seeped through your robes, but you didn't move, staring at the ground where your tears had dotted the frost-covered cobblestones. The quiet should have been comforting, but instead, it only made you feel smaller, like the world itself had chosen to remind you just how much you didn't belong- not here, not with Theo, not anywhere. You looked anywhere but at the courtyard entrance, maybe because an unconscious part of your mind knew that somebody would come eventually. And that somebody was Theo.

Theo didn't hate much. That may surprise some, but he found disdain to be much more civil and controlled, and therefore elegant. Outright hate was something uncontrollable, overwhelming the most conscious of human spirits with a rage far beyond what they could grasp or deal with. It was the same with violence. Theo preferred measured, unemotional violence before the messy raging of the likes of Mattheo. But Theo couldn't deny it as he watched your lone figure, curled up on the stone bench. He hated to see you cry, and he wanted to inflict as much pain as possible onto your brother.

But he couldn't hurt your brother (seriously), you’d be upset. And he couldn't walk over to you to still your tears, because his feet seemed to be glued to the ground. Even from afar, he could hear your sniffling, it was carried to him like a secret by the cool night breeze. Shaking like a leaf, you seemed to hide your face in your hands. Something intense stirred in his chest, seized his insides in a hard grip. He should've been more vigilant, he should've ensured you could reveal the secret in your own terms. He should've looked out for his girl, and he’d failed.

“Theo?”

Your soft voice penetrated the cloudy mist of self loathing that had consumed his thoughts. A small light, an irrestible pull. Theo raised his head from the cobblestones to you. Still sitting on the bench, you had untangled your limbs and taken your face out of your hands. Your glossy eyes reflected the moonlight, it illuminated the trail your tears had left on your cheeks and again, a wave of emotion was stilled by impotence.

Your brows furrowed doubtfully and Theo considered how he must look on the outside, to you. Stone faced, jaw clenched, straight as an arrow, tense. It wasn't an easy feat to soften his features when the raging desire to kill your brother, his worry and his self-reproach battled for stewardship. Shamefully, he had to admit to the urge to flee he felt, from you, from what you brought forth in him, made him feel. He wasn't cut out for this.

You could sense Theo’s hesitance and immediately felt self-conscious. But before you could decide how to approach him, he pushed himself off the pillar he’d been leaning on and walked towards your bench. You watched his steps carefully. There was something mesmerizing about watching Theo walk. Maybe it was the elegance of his steps, the way he always seemed to know where to go and approached his target without hesitation. Theo would not be caught slouching or walking aimlessly. Right now, you seemed to be the aim, which calmed you a bit.

Your eyes got captured by the reflection of the moonlight on the cobblestone, or maybe you were just avoiding his knowing eyes, as he sat down next to you and left a few inches of space for you, though that meant he was pressed into the corner of the bench, sitting on its edge awkwardly. Burying your fingers in your thighs, you inhaled an intake of breath to apologize, but- “Forgive me, tesoro,” Theo's voice sounded quietly through the silence of the courtyard.

You turned to him, surprised. “Forgive you? What would you have to ask forgiveness for? I’m the one who was reckless and it's because of me Harry said all those awful things about you and then I left you standing there-” you rambled on and wrung your hands desperately. Tears stung in the corners of your eyes but you pushed them down, you didn't want to worry him, you’d already done enough.

Theo couldn't believe it. He couldn't believe that you were the one apologizing, that you blamed yourself about what your brother had accused him off. How much you cared about him, that this had been troubling you. A thousand replies, arguments, explanations bombarded his tongue, but he commanded it to silence to sort them. Because he had to make sure you didn't blame yourself- and that you believed him in his love for you.

He moved his arms slowly and deliberately, to give you the chance to back away, shrug them off or ignore them. Instead, you recognized them and threw yourself into his hold, hiding your face in his chest. With a new add of displeasure, Theo noted that your hands and face were ice cold. No wonder you were shivering. “Don't you dare be sorry,” Theo told you, but all harshness had left him as he held your shivering figure. “Don't you dare apologize to me. I couldn't care less what your brother,” he couldn't help the malice in his tone when he mentioned him, “thinks of me. But you do.”

When you raised your head from his chest to protest, you didn't care what Harry thought about Theo, Theo cupped it tenderly. Though he didn't wear a smile, it was as if his hard features had melted and he looked at you with the utmost gentleness. “He’s your brother. And anyways, that wasn't really what I meant.” His thumb brushed over your cold cheek and wiped at the remains of frozen tears. “You care what he thinks about you. But he was wrong.”

“That's what I tell myself,” you laughed dryly, leaning into his touch. Theo loosened his coat and wrapped it around you as he pulled you closer, listening to you intently. “I want to believe that I am lovable or interesting or desirable, but after what he said…” Your voice grew quiet, this was something only Theo could be trusted with, vulnerable words exchanged under the cover of his coat. “I can't come up with a single reason why you would want me.”

“Because there is no single reason,” Theo answered softly as he inspected his coat to make sure you were covered completely. “Or rather, there is such a multitude of reasons you'd have to give me a while to write them down, if you were being fair. Or maybe there isn't one at all. I’m not with you for a specific reason or a specific aspect of you. I want you because of you and everything that entails.”

You could follow his line of thought, but the mean little voice acquitted the abstraction of his words to a lie. “You speak in tongues,” you chuckled sadly and felt him sigh. “Tesoro, is it that inconceivable to you that I could love you?”

“Yes,” you said promptly, for one because it was true, but also because Theo’s dropping of the l-bomb had momentarily stunned you.

“I’ll just have to reiterate then,” Theo said and made you look at him. “Again and again and again until you believe me.” When you continued to look unconvinced, he clenched his teeth in frustration. How on earth was he supposed to convince someone as stubborn as you? In what ways could he comfort you, make you believe him when he told you how much he appreciated you?

“Do you know what tesoro means?” Theo asked and you were hit with the sudden realization that you didn't. In the beginning, before your relationship started, you had been convinced that it was a teasing insult he could dangle over your head, that you couldn't understand. But you’d never asked.

When you shook your head in response, Theo gave you the smallest of smiles, the best he could muster. “It means ‘treasure'. You are so precious to me, tesoro,” he said in a lowered voice as he kissed up the side of your face. “I wouldn't trade you for the world. I want you to let me love you, I want to crush anyone who hurts you.”

Laying in his arms breathlessly, you tried to think of a response, but his wit with words had disarmed you. All you could do was hold onto him, sneak your icy hands under his shirts and draw small patterns there in an attempt to convey your response. Finally, some of the mist faded and you were able to grasp a rational thought. “What do I do now?”

“Hm, I don't know,” Theo answered, the slightest bit of amusement in his voice. You squinted your eyes up at him. “You aren't being a help,” you lied and he crooked his head knowingly before he got serious once more. “It's up to you what to do, tesoro. Whatever you choose to do, it's valid.”

“What if I blow up the astronomy tower?” you joked in an attempt to downplay how touched you were by his trust, by his respect and esteem for you that you had found questioned before a sea of onlookers half an hour prior. “Still valid,” Theo decided and pursed his lips, making you giggle irrationally. He seemed to take it as a sign of tiredness and took his cloak from you despite your protests. “Let's get you up into bed, tesoro.”

“I don't want to,” you muttered darkly. “They’ll all know what happened by now, and I don't want to run into Harry.”

“We could go back to my dorm,” Theo said openly as he took your hands and placed them in his pockets to protect them against the frosty wind. “But my dorm mates can be a bit trampy, and they are no nice sight to wake up to. Plus, they’ll be frustrated by the lost match, I don't know whether the option is more pleasant.”

But something had just dawned on you, an idea so brilliant you were surprised by yourself. “I know where we can go.” Without questioning your use of ‘we’, Theo locked your fingers with his. “Lead the way, then.”

You half expected Filch to turn up every time you crossed a corner, or to stumble upon Mrs Norris, which would be equally as unfortunate. But your way up to the fifth floor remained miraculously free of cats and caretakers. When you flung around a corner, Theo hot on your heels, you suddenly felt a tug on your hand as he slowed down. Before you could turn around to ask what was wrong, you felt his breath close to your ear. “I know where you’re taking me, tesoro.”

You didn't doubt that for a second, what with all his mountains of knowledge, it was hard to come across something Theo didn't know. “Why didn't you think of it, then?” you asked and kept walking. If you remembered right from your fifth year, it had to be somewhere around here, maybe in the next corridor…

“I tend to use that room for … other purposes,” his tone of voice, the little smirk adorning his lips and the subtle mirth in his eyes left no doubt for the nature of those purposes. Stupidly, you felt your cheeks heat up and tried to avert your face, doing your very best to hide your blush. Though Theo’s barely concealed chuckle had you realize the pointlessness of that endeavor.

When you pushed open the doors of the room of requirement, you were, unsurprisingly, treated to a welcoming sight. The room was warm and several fireplaces along its walls gave it a homely feeling. In fact, it reminded you of the Griffindor tower a little. Just that the cushions and couches had been replaced by a large, king sized four poster in the middle of the room, its curtains swaying softly in the nonexistent breeze. “Nice,” Theo complimented and you smiled to yourself. “You think so?”

Now, alone with Theo, hands brushing, voices whispering without any reason, you felt much calmer. You parted from him to step further into the room and reached the bed, sitting down on it. A surprised sigh left your lips when you practically sunk in the soft sheets and you fell back onto your back. As you blinked up at the high ceiling, Theo's face came into view. He, too, looked a lot more relaxed, had his hands in his pockets and looked down on you with a teasing smile. “So… there seems to be only one bed in your ideal room for us.”

You frowned. “If you want your own bed, I'm sure the room will provide it.” Theo hummed and looked around as if he were looking for it. “Strange, it doesn't. Seems like I don't want my own bed after all.”

You scooted aside to make space for him and he settled down on the mattress with far more elegance than you. Theo hoisted his long legs onto the bed, slipped off his shoes and pulled you closer with one arm. With a tired sigh, you settled against his warm chest and his fingers drew circles on the skin beneath your shirt. You, too, took off your shoes without bothering to remove any other piece of clothing. When you took his hand, you heard an intake of breath from Theo, as if he had wanted to say something that didn't make it past his lips.

Angling your head upwards, you found him already looking at you. “Thank you,” he said, and it sounded more grave, more intimate than his apology and declaration of love had. Theo didn't thank people very often, you realized. “For what?” you whispered, not daring to raise your voice against the silence that seemed to lay its protective cloak over the two of you. “You defended me,” Theo said mutedly, still drawing tender patterns onto your skin. “In front of all those people. Against your brother.”

“Ah, well,” you shrugged and smiled. “That was nothing. Theo?” “Hm?” It was your turn to cup his face gently. “You deserve to be stood up for.” You frowned at the sarcastic twitch around his mouth, but the smile he gave you was genuine. “I don't deserve you, tesoro. Come oso mettere le mani su qualcosa di così puro?”

“You deserve the world, Theo,” you said fiercely and sat up, fisting his shirt in your hands. Your heart was thrumming as you prepared the words, tried them on your tongue silently, and finally, they slipped past your lips. With a heavy accent, no doubt, and a shaky voice. “Ti amo, Theo.”

His eyes widened subtly. A movement rippled through his whole body, you could barely comprehend it when he pulled you onto his lap and shot up, lips clashing into yours in one fluid motion. His lips beckoned yours into a sensual dance as he whispered into your mouth: “Anch'io ti amo, tesoro.” When you whimpered against his lips, Theo surged forward and flipped you onto your back.

All your thoughts were consumed by him, him, him. The caress of his lips, the touch of his hands that ran up and down your body, the sound of his voice as he whispered foreign phrases of Italian into your ear. If he didn't feel so real and warm under your fingertips, you'd have thought him a vivid daydream. Each and every touch seemed to push you, you with you, lead you to a predetermined end he'd already set for you. His fingertips and lips ignited a fire inside of you that burned through every last bit of self control and you moaned helplessly against him, eliciting a chuckle from Theo .

When you ran out of breath, you broke free from him and looked into his impossibly blue eyes. They were brimming with tenderness, raking over your figure, taking in your disheveled hair, heaving chest and hazy eyes. “You look tired.”

Theo manouvered you back onto your back and pulled the blankets over the two of you. Snuggling against him, your fingertips brushed over your kiss-bitten lips in silent memory. Only Theo's voice could pull you out of your daydreams. “You should get some sleep.” Nodding, you closed your eyes and allowed your body to relax against his. Only one thing was still bugging you. “Theo?”

“Hm?”

“Promise me you won't hurt Harry,” you said as sternly as you could manage in your half sleeping state. A silence followed, during which you almost dozed off, but Theo’s voice sounded through the deafening tiredness that weighed your lids down. “If you insist.”

By breakfast the next morning, somehow, half the school knew what had happened the last night. And when noon rolled around, it was the whole student body. Hermoine had stayed up late last night, in the hopes of talking to you when you came back to your dorm, but you hadn't, and hadn't been in your bed when she had woken up either. Hermoine only managed to catch a glimpse of you when you hurriedly left the Griffindor table at breakfast upon their arrival, and you seemed to have spend the forenoon avoiding them with the assistance of Fred’s and George’s magic sweets.

Harry had been in a particularly foul mood all morning, staring gloomily and snapping at her and Ron any chance he got. Though Hermoine caught his unmistakably worried look when you called in sick and flew from the Griffindor table. Her irritation had grown worse as well, as she was subjected to Harry’s short temper, and reached its peak at dinner time when the three of them were on their way to the Great Hall and Harry raised his voice at her for something so minor it was ridiculous.

“Harry, we need to talk,” she said sternly and halted her steps. The two boys turned to her reluctantly, Harry looked exasperated, Ron cast worried glances at him. “What, Hermoine?” Harry asked sharply and she crossed her arms. “There is no reason to use that tone with me. We need to talk about last night. You clearly feel bad for what happened-”

“I couldn't care less,” Harry pressed through clenched teeth, but none of them took the chance to revel in the irony. “And I wasn't the one who betrayed the family-”

“Are you sure?” Hermoine interrupted him. “She is your only family, and you made her cry.”

Harry snorted. “Me? It's all that bloke Nott’s fault! And she's to blind to see that he's just using her!” He stormed off, but Hermoine caught up with him, unwilling to let the topic go. Ron, on the other hand, looked as uncomfortable as if he was following two acromantulae instead of his best friends.

“Look,” Hermoine tried the diplomatical approach, slightly out of breath. “I don't like Nott either, but other than her, I've never exchanged a single word with him. And neither have you.”

“Yeah, he's super quiet,” Ron chimed in, “He's weird that one, he's got something to hide for sure. What if he's a death eater, too?”

“She doesn't know what she's getting herself into with him,” Harry retorted hotly, skipping Ron's comment.

“What makes you think that?” Hermoine asked angrily. A surprised gasp left Harry's throat when she grabbed his robes and brought him to a halt. “Why don't you trust her? I get that you’re worried, but she's not a child, and honestly, she's far more reflecting than you are being right now. I would trust her to read someone over you, Harry, because she's smart and she could hold her own. And you know she's struggling with self esteem and still, you said these horrible things to her. You look more like an asshole than Nott right now!”

Hermoine's chest rose and fell rapidly and Harry seemed dumbfounded for a second. A second Ron used to attempt to diffuse the heated situation. “Look, neither of us likes Nott, but we all like her. How about we just find her, you apologize, Harry, and we reconcile. And Nott is a topic for tomorrow.”

Hermoine read in Harry's face that he knew Ron was right, but she also knew that your stubbornness was only rivaled by your brother’s. “I just want to protect her, Hermoine.”

“You have a funny way of showing that, Potter.”

All three of them spun around so fast their bags knocked against each other. Leaning against a tapestry a few feet from them was Theodore Nott, in the flesh, hands in his pockets, a picture of dangerous calm. His piercing eyes were fixed on Harry, and though his features were as unreadable as ever, the line of his jaw was unnaturally sharp, revealing his tension.

“What are you doing here?” Ron asked aggressively, stepping in front of Harry. When Nott let his gaze wander over him, he flushed slightly but didn't back down. Hermoine felt herself tense up. Though you never knew with him, the look in Nott's eyes was unmistakable, and she reached for her wand under her robes, just to feel less helpless.

“I’m not here to fight you, so you can put that away, Granger,” he said, without looking at her. Ron opened his mouth, no doubt to stand up for her, but Hermoine stepped on his foot to silence him before he could utter a word. Unbothered by Ron’s glare and Harry’s drawn wand, Nott returned his cool stare to Harry. “Your sister made me promise not to hurt you, so I won't. But you will apologize to her.” His tone left no room for doubt what would happen if his demands weren't met.

When neither of the three replied, Theo pushed himself off the wall. Somehow, he was even taller than Ron, who planted himself in front of the other two protectively. “Did you hear, Potter?” he asked softly, his tone indicated that he greatly enjoyed the effect he had. “You will apologize. You will take everything back. You will let her make the calls. And if she tells you to shut it and go away, you will. Though I figure you, too, know that she is far too kind for that. And if you don’t, you will be on the receiving end of my wrath.”

“You'd break your promise, huh?” Harry snarled and Hermoine could have punched him. “You act so high and mighty, as if you cared about her, but in the end, you would go over her head just like that.”

Notts eyes glinted dangerously and his voice grew even softer, if that was even possible. “Other than you maladroit Griffindor lot, I have ways of getting my retaliation other than hurting you, Potter.”

“Are you including my sister in that ‘maladroit Griffindor lot’?” Harry hissed and Theo raised his brow. “No. She's the exception.” There was a few seconds of silence, during which Theo and Harry glared at each other and Ron and Hermoine exchanged nervous glances.

Finally, Nott took another step forward. He seemed to attempt a less hostile tone, but didn't quite succeed. “She means a lot to me. Her happiness means a lot to me. And you will not stand in the way of it. I want this … arrangement to work for her, so I ask you,” the last part seemed to strain him, “to tolerate me, as I will tolerate you.”

“If you’re trying to get me to accept you-” Harry began, incensed, but Theo cut him off. “I'm not asking for your acceptance, Potter, I ask you to respect your sister and her decision and not throw a hissy fit because she gets her own life instead of running around fixing yours.” The short term diplomacy had vanished and he let out an exasperated sigh, rummaging in his robes for a pack of cigarettes.

As much as Hermoine held an aversion to him and his friends, she couldn't deny that he had a point. Harry couldn't either, she saw it in his face, the way he gripped his wand but let it slip back under his robes. Without another word, he turned on his heel and stormed off. Ron waited a few tactful seconds before following him, but Hermoine remained, casting nervous glances at the Slytherin. When Nott looked up from lighting his cigarette, he raised his brow at her still standing there.

“Do you really like her?” she asked, testing his reaction. His fingers holding the cigarette twitched as he lifted them to his mouth once more. If Filch caught him smoking in the halls, he’d earn himself a punishment even he couldn't buy himself out of. Maybe this afflicted him more than he let on, if he risked his polished record so carelessly.

“Yes,” he said simply, but his tone was grave and intense. His eyes bored into her skull, it seemed, and Hermoine wondered wether he could do legilimency. She nodded in thought. Hermoine couldn't help but believe him, though she still didn't like him. But one thing she knew.

“She likes you too,” Hermoine replied and there was a subtle twitch in his brows. “She's been happier lately. Absent and secretive, but she seems to be doing better than ever. Well, you two have my blessing, is what I just wanted to say. If that means anything.” A little embarrassed, she turned to go but stopped when he called out to her.

“It does.” When he saw the surprised look on her face, Nott waved with his cigarette. “It means something to her. So, thank you.” Nodding, Hermoine turned her back on him and walked up the corridor, replaying the conversation in her mind. Madness, she thought, shaking her head. Theodore Nott thanking someone, thanking her. Unbelievable.

You had made sure to hide in the room of requirement until fifteen minutes before curfew, when you hurried up to Griffindor tower. Per your estimation, the common room would be fairly empty, since it was a weekday, and your dorm mates would be sleeping if you waited out midnight by the fire. When you slipped through the portrait hole, you found the common room deserted and breathed a sigh of relief. Your favorite armchair by the fire was free and you sank into the cushion with a satisfied exhale.

“Can we talk?”

Just as quickly as you had fallen into the armchair, you jumped up from it. Your eyes found a lone figure near the steps to the boy’s dormitories. Harry’s hair was even more disheveled as usual and he looked tired, but he hadn't changed into his pyjamas yet. So he had been waiting for you.

Even though you were not keen on another lecture, you didn't want to affront him when he wasn't yelling at you anymore. So you nodded and sat back down, pulling your legs to your chest and resting your chin on your kneecaps to stare into the flickering flames. You heard Harry shuffle closer and saw him plopp down on the couch next to you out of your peripheral vision. He, too, seemed to have directed his eyes to the fire.

“I … ran into Nott earlier,” he said and you did a double take. “How are you still in one piece?” Harry gave you a deadpan look that you would've laughed about, if you had felt like laughing. “According to him, you made him promise not to hex me.”

“Right,” you said, remembering if vaguely, and leaned back into the cushion. “How did it go?” you asked shyly, drawing hope from the fact that Harry seemed unharmed. “He was … direct,” Harry said with pursed lips and you couldn't suppress the light chuckle that fell from your lips. “He tends to be. When it suits him.”

“Make sure you tell him I apologized,” Harry mumbled, giving you a tentative look. “Or he might take my head off.”

“You didn't,” you said firmly, feeling a pang of guilt when Harry looked up. The look in his eyes reminded you of when he was younger. “You didn't apologize yet,” you explained and Harry shifted, visibly uncomfortable. “Right.” With a long sigh, he ran a hand through his unruly hair. “I’m sorry. I shouldn't have called you naive, or stupid, or delusional.” “It hurt me,” you clarified and hugged your legs tighter to your chest. “Made me feel like I'm not even my own person. And you knew it would hurt me.”

“Yes,” Harry admitted and you could hear his regret laced into every syllable. “I wanted to hurt Nott, but I only hurt you. I overreacted a bit, I admit that. But-” “No buts,” you cut him off, sensing an incoming tirade over Theo. Sitting up in your seat, you crossed your arms and made him look at you. “You don't know him. But I do, and I trust him. And if you trust me, you should respect my decision. I get that you're worried, and it's sweet, it really is, but this is my call, not yours.”

“I know,” Harry groaned, hiding his face in his hands. You felt your resolve melt and rose out of your armchair to walk over to him, sitting down next to him and opening your arms. He slumped into them and you pulled him against your chest as you ran your hands through his hair.

“Harry?” “Hm?” “I'm sorry too. For not telling you.”

“Can't blame you,” he spoke against his hands so his voice came out muffled. “I was a prick last night.” “Stronzo,” you said proudly, “is what Theo would call you.” In reminiscence of your moments with him, you watched the flames flicker and patted your brothers head. “Apology accepted, by the way. If you keep your opinions about my relationship to yourself.”

“Thank you,” Harry muffled against your sweater and lifted himself up to put his head on your shoulder. You rested your chin upon his and pulled a blanket over the two of you. No more words were exchanged as you rested against each other, too lazy to stand up and go to your dorms. You closed your eyes and enjoyed the warmth of your brother and the fire. A weight that had accumulated over the last months was finally from your shoulders. Not in the way you had hoped, but you couldn't help but feel utterly content right now, with your brother, drowning in the cushion, head swarming with thoughts of Theo.

a/n: thank you all for reading! to wrap this story up, I'll ad an (unofficial) nsfw part for those who are interested that I hope to get out before the start of 2025 (no promises). until then, enjoy this little teaser:

You sat cross-legged on the king sized bed in the room of requirement, fingers picking at the threads of the soft duvet beneath you. Anticipation curled in your insides as you fixed your eyes on the door. The room had answered your subconscious wish and provided a clock, an old grandfather clock, that ticked softly. Apart from your breathing, it was the only sound breaking the silence. Until the door handle clicked.

The door creaked open, and you looked up sharply, your breath catching as Theo slipped inside. His hair was damp from the rain still falling outside, and he shoved his hands into the pockets of his robes, his sharp features softening as his eyes landed on you. He hesitated for a moment, as if gauging the mood, before closing the door behind him with a quiet thud. There was a sort of tension in the room, or maybe you were imagining it because your nerves ran high. When Theo crooked his head, you realized what he was waiting for.

“Oh, Harry apologized,” you reassured him and Theo nodded, approaching the bed slowly. On his way, he shed his cloak and bag and sat down on the bed, unbuttoning the first two buttons of his shirt. “How did your friends take the whole thing?” you asked and scooted back to make space for him. Theo's eyes followed your retreating figure and he raised his brow, moving after you. “Are you running from me, tesoro?”

“Are you avoiding my question, Theo?” you countered and scooted back even more to tease him. Theo chuckled darkly and surged forward, trapping you beneath him by seizing your wrists and pushing them gently into the cushion. You couldn't help the high pitched gasp that left your throat. One of Theo's large hands was enough to bind both your wrists, leaving you utterly helpless under his hungry eyes. The other drew a teasing line down your side.

“Wouldn't dream of it, tesoro.”

[...] -> to be continued

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OMG. Hiiii. I love Tom Riddle and Theodore Nott. So I am totally going to ask you if you are comfortable to write either Professor Tom or a Professor Theo x fem reader fic with smut. Feel free to ignore this but I really struggle to find Professor Tom fics and Idk how to write them 😅

Professor Tom Riddle x f!reader

Warnings: strong language, toxic behaviour, manipulation, SMUT reader is a student in the beginning (still over 18!), reader becomes a little bit unhinged towards the middle (who wouldn't after meeting TR?) 18+MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Author's Note: Wow, this took me ages to post! I was having a break from this blog due to my exams, but I promise I will be more active from now on. Also, this is actually my first smut! (Idk how to write them either, so I do hope you like it.) I tried to build some plot into it, so it is not just filthy p*rn, haha. Thank you so much for your request! <3

There are moments that change your life. Moments when you realise you will never be the same and your whole existence is divided into two parts - before this, and after this.

For you, this moment was meeting Tom Riddle.

The memories of that rainy day when your gazes crossed for the first time continue to haunt your thoughts almost every second of your existence. And no matter how hard you try to forget, they become more and more vivid. Sometimes you wonder if you are actually reliving it or if it is just a fruit of your imagination.

The rain was so cold that day, that your whole body was shivering under your soaking clothes. You were running across the courtyard, trying to get inside as soon as possible. Both of your hands were clutching your bag on top of your head, trying to prevent the water from getting into your eyes. You were almost at the door when your body collided with someone, and you lost your balance falling into a muddy puddle.

You looked up, ready to give a piece of your mind to whoever made you end up like this, but your words got stuck in your throat the moment your gaze crossed his.

Eyes as dark as the night. Skin as pale as the moonlight. Hair falling in elegant curls on top of the most beautiful face you have ever seen. He silently offered you his hand, before he took off his jacket and wrap it around your trembling figure.

"Are you alright?", he asked. His voice was smooth like honey, yet deep. You couldn't do anything else other than slowly nod before your cheeks turned a light shade of red. He offered you a small smirk, before guiding you inside the castle. No words were exchanged between you after that.

Looking back, you are sure that this was the moment that changed your life.

You didn't know who he was at first. He looked so young, that it was natural to assume he was your age. You have not seen him before, so he must be a transfer student, just like you were a year ago. "He did not wear a robe, so he must not been sorted yet", you said to your friends later that day and they just shook their heads. No one has heard of any transferring students this year, yet here you were claiming you have seen in the flesh the man of your dreams.

And you were almost convinced you were dreaming a few days later when you found yourself sitting in the back of the class, while he was neatly writing his name on the black board.

Professor Riddle.

"As your new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, I would like to establish a few ground rules right now", his voice was calm but dominant, "Always come prepared. I do not tolerate lazy students. No talking during class. No questions during lessons. If there is anything you do not understand, you can either conduct your own research in the library or visit one of my additional sessions every third Friday of the month."

Unlike you, the majority of the students have already heard of Tom and some even knew him personally, as he graduated just a few years ago. They carefully listened to all his rules, noting everything they should do to stay on his good side. No matter the house, the respect and fear felt towards Tom was felt by all students. You would lie if you said that this did not include you.

Yet in two weeks time during his first Friday session, you found yourself leaning over your notebook, while Tom was calmly explaining the lesson material to you. You were nodding your head, not paying even a little bit of attention to what he was saying. All you could focus on was the sound of his voice and the tingles that covered your whole body every time he lifted his eyes to your face, checking if were actually following.

"I am curious, miss, for the real purpose of your visit today", he said once you started packing your bag. You immediately froze in place, cold sweat forming on the back of your neck. Your trembling hands closed your bag before you turned to him with a tight-lipped smile.

"I am not sure I understand what you mean, professor."

He offered you a small smile, before grabbing his coat and briefcase and making his way towards you. Stopping just a step away from you, he lifted his hands toward your neck, making you gulp. You stood still, expecting him to wrap his hand around your throat, while his eyes burned into yours. His long fingers inched closer and closer to your skin, before wrapping around your tie and adjusting it so it could be centred.

"I am a patient and understanding man, miss", he said, his hand resting on the piece of cloth for a few more seconds, before moving away, "But I am no fool."

And you knew his words to be true. Because if there was a fool here, that was you. You knew it was wrong to pursue the foolish feelings that started to blossom in your chest. Despite the age difference being only a few years, falling for a professor was never a good idea. But how could you stop yourself when every time his eyes laid upon you there was a feeling of longing behind them? The small touches on your arms, every time he tried to explain to you the parts of the textbook you claimed "not to understand", the way his lips curved in a small smirk every time you volunteered to help during demonstrations in class, the way his gaze darkened that time he saw your friend's arms wrapped around your shoulders during dinner...

He may have thought he was subtle, but you knew there was some part of him that desired you as much as you did.

"What do you think of me, professor?", you asked one day, while sitting on the desk, arranging papers. As you were the only student who showed any interest in DADA sessions outside the scheduled classes, Tom moved the Friday meetings to his private office. They also started to happen every week, rather than once per month. And often, you were helping him with work, rather the other way around. "Why?", his gaze lifted from the papers he was grading, eyebrows furrowing in suspicion. He laid his pen down, crossing his arms in front of his chest and resting his body back on his chair. You sat next to him on a smaller wooden chair, but your hands did not stop arranging the graded exams, and neither did your focus move from them.

"I am...", you took a deep breath, thinking how to phrase your explanation, "Curious, I guess."

Tom watched you with interest, noting the way that your voice trembled in the beginning. Looking up at your face, his eyes trailed every single one of your features, before stopping at your lips.

"You are a good student", he finally said, his tone flat. Your shoulders immediately slumped and you let out a quiet "Oh.", your fingers now pressing the tower of papers on its sides to make sure it is stable. The silence between you grew longer as you tried your best to hide the disappointment you felt from his answer. Tom, on the other hand, was still staring at your face, trying to read your emotions based on your pursed lips and furrowed brows.

"All finished. I think it is better if I go", you finally said, unable to sit in his presence anymore. You stood up, ready to grab your bag from the floor, when cold fingers wrapped themselves around your wrist halting you in place. Tom stood up from his chair, moving behind you. Laying his free hand on the side of your waist, he leaned towards you, nose just a few inches from your hair. He took a deep breath, inhaling the sweet scent of your perfume, and let out a low groan.

"What I really think...", he murmured, the fingers on your waist digging into your flesh, "is not something I shall voice out loud. The thoughts that flood my mind every time I see you are too..."

Your breath hitched.

"Too?"

"Sinful", you felt his breath on the back of your ear and your body involuntarily shivered. Before you could think of an answer, his hands left your body and he took a step back. You turned around, eager to close the distance again, but were stopped by him grabbing your shoulder and gently pushing you away.

"Do not", he warned, "do not make this harder for both of us."

"But I-"

"I think it is best if you leave."

You gulped. And the first time your eyes did not cast down in shame - instead you held his gaze, your expression hardening.

"You cannot do this to me", your voice trembled, "Toying with my feelings , then pushing me away."

He raised his brow and his hand fell from your shoulder. You stood in place, not making any attempts to get closer.

"I did not do such thing", his voice sounded low and dark, his eyes suddenly turning colder, "In fact, I am telling you now... Whatever hope you hold in your heart about anything happening between us, you should kill it now."

"But you said-"

"I know what I said", he interrupted you impatiently, "And I mean it. But whatever affection I have towards you does not change the fact you are my student."

Your fingers wrapped around the edge of your skirt and you clenched your jaw, moving your gaze towards the door. The rational part of your brain was telling you to just grab your bag and dash through the door. The other part, the one led by your heart, was screaming at you to stay and confront him. It did not take you long to decide which one to listen to.

"Why does it matter?", you snapped, "I am an adult already. And you are only a few years older. It is not illegal or anything!"

Tom let out an annoyed sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose, before running his fingers through his dark curls. He turned around and walked around the desk, before slamming his hands on the hard surface.

"Merlin, you just do not understand!", his voice was full with irritation, "I can not lose my job. I can not lose everything I have worked for!"

"We can hide it", you protested, gluing yourself to his side and gripping his bicep, "Only for a few months! Only till I graduate!"

The man tore your hands away from his arm, cupping them in his palms instead. He tilted his head, searching your eyes, which were now starting to form tears of stress and frustration.

His face suddenly relaxed. The air between you felt lighter and a new spark of hope started to burn inside of you. His finger made its way to your cheek and wiped one of the tears that started to trail down your skin.

"Is it not curious, how weak love makes a man?", his finger trailed down to your jaw, before cupping it, "And no spell in this world is strong enough to save a man that has already fallen."

Your head instinctively leaned towards his hand and you closed your eyes, enjoying the feeling of warmth of his skin on yours. If you could only freeze time, you would stay in this moment forever.

"I don't want to be saved", you murmured and despite not being able to see him, you could feel the small smile that grazed his lips once you said it. You freed your hands from his and wrapped them around his torso, burying your head in his chest. It took a few seconds for him to embrace your body, resting his chin on the top of your head.

And if you could only see the satisfied smirk and cold gaze on Tom's face, you would have known how true his words are. There is no spell in this world that could save you not that you have already fallen...

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You can't say exactly when the dream had turned into a nightmare.

Private sessions became everyday afternoon meetings, where you talked about different random topics. Tom never opened up about his past, even his Hogwarts years. On the other hand, he was a good listener and without you realising it, he managed to unravel your whole family history just within a week.

His silent nature did not bother you, however. You finally had someone who listened to you. You slowly started to detach from your friends, excusing your unnatural behaviour on all the extra academic work you were taking. They were worried, but every time they tried to voice their concerns, you rolled your eyes, before running to Tom to tell him about their words. "They are just jealous of you, my dear, " he would always chuckle, gently stroking your cheek, "because you found what they would keep searching for a long, long time."

Soon, he was the only person you really trusted. And he claimed he felt the same.

This is why he couldn't ask anyone else to sneak into the Headmaster's office and get the little leather diary in one of his desk drawers. This is also why you had to find a way to get the books he was interested in from the restricted section without getting caught. This is also why you had to lure the naive fifth-year Hufflepuff into the Chamber of Secrets and leave her there.

There was simply no one else whom he trusted to do these tasks. And you gladly completed each of his requests without question, doing everything in your power to keep him happy.

But soon this was not enough. And once you graduated all the promises he made to you broke into thousand little pieces, which were discarded into thin air.

"I don't need you anymore", his cold voice said, his eyes glued to the papers in front of him, "You can leave. Make sure you close the door."

Without sparing you even a glance, he grabbed the pile of papers and left for class, leaving you to gather your thoughts and pieces of your heart by yourself.

What did you do wrong? Why did he change so suddenly? Was it all a lie?

These questions continued to poison your mind for the next few years, while you tried to rebuild yourself. You did not realise how dependent you were on him, till you were left on your own. The weight of all the unsaid feelings within you was forcing you onto your knees, making you unable to get up and continue with your life.

And this is how two years after your graduation you found your way back to Hogwarts. The place where it all began...

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The wooden clock on the wall was ticking dangerously close to midnight when Tom finally got to his office. The teacher's gathering has been prolonged unnecessarily due to Dumbledore's ramblings and him finding problems where there are none. The amount of control the young professor has exercised to endure this long meeting has left him completely drained of energy, but he knew he still had to do some research about the Founders' Relics. After so many years he was finally getting close to achieving his goal and he was ready to sacrifice as many nights of sleep as necessary.

He knew something was not right the moment he opened the door. The lights were still off and everything seemed to be in the exact place he left it... but there was just the faintest sound of someone breathing which made him immediately reach for his wand.

"Ah, look who finally came", your giggle reached his ears before he saw you turning on his chair, fingers moving towards the small lamp on his desk, "Terribly rude of you to make me wait this long."

Tom's lips pressed into a thin line and his grip around his wand tightened. He traced his eyes over the visible parts of your body, noting the little changes that had occurred since he last saw you.

Your hair, which was usually neatly combed and put in a bun, was now in a messy braid, the front pieces framing your face. Your lips, which usually curved in a shy smile, were now forming an arrogant, almost sinister smirk. Your eyes, which have always looked up to him full of admiration, were now staring down at him with a glint of insanity.

"Get out", he commanded, striding towards you with his wand pointed towards your head.

Your raised your eyebrows and your mouth shaped an "o" in a mock horror, before you reached for your own wand, pointing it back at him.

"Now that is not a way to welcome your ex-lover, is it?", your eyes squint.

Tom scoffed at your words, stopping at the edge of his desk, before his expression hardened.

"You were never my lover", he stated, his head tilting to the side, "And I thought I was extremely clear when I said last time I saw you that you are not welcome here."

You hummed, eyes moving to the ceiling. Still holding your wand towards him, you relaxed further into his chair, lifting your legs onto his desk. With a curious gaze, you followed the stone patterns of the walls around the room, while scrunching your face in disgust.

"3 years, Tom", you finally said, landing your attention back on him, "3 years you have been here and your office is as bland as it was when you first came here. It brings my mood down, you know? It's so grey!"

"You can leave then", Tom hissed through his teeth, making a few more steps till he stayed right in front of you. The tip of his wand rested under your chin and he pulled it upwards, making you look up, "I am giving you exactly a minute to leave, before I take your life."

A loud giggle left your lips and you pressed your neck further into his wand.

"How generous!"

"45 seconds."

You gently put your own wand back into your pocket, not moving your eyes from his. Tilting your head, your mouth formed a wide smile.

"Okay."

His brows shot in confusion, his jaw clenching. You could see his on the wand became tighter, his knuckles almost white.

"Okay?"

"Do it", you shrug your shoulders, "My ghost will be eager to see how are you going to explain why your new assistant went missing after coming to your office to drop a list of all the students that are going to be in your... our class this year."

Before you know it, his free hand flew to your face and gripped your face. His fingers dig into your jaw, lifting it dangerously close to his face.

"My assistant?", he let out a dry chuckle, "Good try, dear. And a terrible way to waste that minute I gave you."

With lips already starting to form the words of the deadliest spell, his fingers dug deeper into your face, before his eyes landed on the sparkling object in your palms. The unforgivable words quickly died in his throat and he withdrew his wand, stumbling back. Eyes full of anger met yours, who in contrast were sparkling with playfulness.

"How did you get that?", he demanded, reaching towards the object, but you pulled it back, before laying it on your head. Putting your elbows on his desk, you fluttered your eyelashes, smiling brightly.

"Do you think it suits me?"

"Stop playing around."

"You are such a bore", you rolled your eyes, "I went on a holiday to Albania. And I found this gorgeous, gorgeous diadem, which turned out to be Rowena Ravenclaw's. What are the chances?"

Tom seemed unamused by your story, instead twitching his jaw. His eyes stayed glued to the diadem on your head, the reflection of the sapphire on it sparkling in his cold eyes.

"How did you know where it was?", his gaze moved towards you, his hand putting his wand back in his coat. His tall form moved towards you again, this time taking a seat on the empty surface of the desk in front of you. With a smile, you took the diadem out of your head, twirling it between your fingers.

"You don't think you were the only one who managed to charm the famous Helena Ravenclaw, do you?", you raised your eyebrow, moving your tongue across your top lip, "You underestimate the power of women's empathy and love for gossip, Tom."

He let out an airy laugh, running a hand through his thick curls. After two years, he hasn't changed anything about his appearance. His face, his haircut, and even the suits he wore were the exact same ones he already wore when you were a student. You would lie if you said you didn't enjoy it - that meant that the Tom you loved was still somewhere inside of him. Your Tom.

"I'm impressed", he finally said, moving his hands towards his knee and locking his fingers around it. His face dropped into a serious expression once again, "Give it to me."

You tilted your head, pursing your lips. Your eyes moved to the diadem, before landing back on him.

"Oh, I can't do that, Tom", you rested your palm on your chest, looking up at him with doe eyes, "He would be very disappointed if I don't bring it back to him."

Tom took a deep breath, his upper lip twitching.

"He?", he pressed his tongue to the side of his cheek, "Who is "he"?"

You twirled in his chair, pressing the diadem closer to your chest.

"My Lord, of course", you let out a giggle, resting your cheek on your shoulder and closing your eyes. You still managed to see the way Tom's body tensed, however.

"He sent his regards to you", you smiled, standing up, "If you hadn't left me that day, he wouldn't have met me and subsequently learned all about making horcruxes."

The man's eyes immediately darkened and his hand flew towards your wrist, stilling you in place.

"Name."

"Huh?"

"Tell me his name", Tom hissed, his nostrils flaring. You stepped closer to him, noses almost brushing.

"And why would I do that?", you raised your brows, your voice turning into a mocking laugh, "Do you think I would betray him... for you?"

The sudden feeling of his arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you forward made you almost lose your balance and you grabbed his shoulder in reflex to keep you from falling on top of him. Nesting his head in the curve between your neck and shoulder, Tom pressed his lips next to your ear before muttering:

"You, my dear, are a liar", his teeth grazed the end of your earlobe, "And a very bad one."

Your whole body froze and you tried to push yourself away from him, but his arms were holding you firmly in place. Suddenly all the confidence you have displayed in his presence so far melted under the warmth of his touch, and you were left only with the hope you could still lie your way out of this situation.

"I am not lying", you protested with a quickening breath.

Tom lifted his head from your shoulder and rested his forehead on yours instead. His eyes stared deep into your own and his warm breath on your face made your whole body involuntarily tremble.

"I have already told you I am not a fool", one of his hands slid from your waist towards your arm and then hand, where you were still clutching the diadem. His fingers wrapped around it and pulled it out of your grasp with ease. Without looking at it, he placed it on the desk behind his back, before his hand found its way to the top of your head.

"I know you better than you know yourself, my dear", he muttered, his hand gently stroking your hair, "And I know there is no room in your heart for anyone but me. You would not be here otherwise."

He pulled back enough to be able to take a better look at your face. His gaze fell from your half-lidded eyes to your parted lips.

"You are mine. Always were, always will be."

A loud whine escaped your throat before it was swallowed by Tom's mouth on yours. His plump lips were chapped, a result of hours of his teeth sinking into them, trying to hold back all the snarky remarks he had for his fellow colleagues. The rough feeling made your knees buckle and you closed your eyes, relaxing fully in his arms.

Without breaking the kiss, he turned you around and with a swift move of his hand, pushed the diadem and a few books out of the way, before laying you on the cold surface. Your hands found their way into his hair, tugging the soft curls.

A low growl left his lips and he lifted his lips from yours, a trail of saliva connecting them, before it was broken by his fingers cupping your chin.

"This is what you wanted, is it not?", his voice was suddenly deeper and darker, "For me to take you on the same desk I once you graded you."

His words made a loud moan to escape you and your back arched up, seeking nothing more than to be close to him. With a low chuckle, he pressed his palm between your breasts, pushing you flat on the furniture beneath you. You opened your mouth to complain but were quickly silenced once he pushed his index and middle fingers in your mouth, almost making you choke. Fixating your gaze on his, you closed your lips around them and started to suck, making sure to flatten your tongue in the process.

The image before your eyes was something you had dreamt of countless times before - Tom, with his messy curls and parted lips, panting while the fingers of his free hand were skilfully unbuttoning his vest. You did not waste any time in helping him, focusing on shakingly unbuttoning his belt.

"So impatient", he clicked his tongue, withdrawing his fingers from your mouth, so could remove his shirt. Once his torso was in full view, you did not hesitate even a second before you lifted yourself in a sitting position and attached your lips to his neck. Nibbling and sucking the smooth skin, you started to nibble and suck your way down to his chest. His head fell back and he closed his eyes, his muscles relaxing under you.

Tom Riddle may not be a man who was capable of love, but he was a man after all. And it would be a lie to say he has never thought of you in a more... erotic way. You have always been so obedient and good, doing everything for him without any hesitation. He has always found that incredibly attractive, but not enough for him to act on his desires.

Now, however, the sight of you has ignited some primal urges within him that he never felt before. Maybe it was the few drinks he had consumed prior at the gathering or maybe it was the idea of the the crazy lengths you were willing to go in order to get back to him...

Tom Riddle would probably never know the reason for him giving up control for the first time in his life. To you, nonetheless.

His mind came back to reality when he felt you pushing him on his chair and nestling yourself between his legs. Looking up at him, you tugged his pants and boxers down, letting his erection free. You let your index finger gently caress the length of it, making it twitch. A small giggle left your lips before you repeated the gesture.

"Stop teasing me", the man groaned, and his palm rested behind your head in order to push you towards his member, but you swiftly moved to the side dodging it. You squinted your eyes, moving your hands to his thighs and digging your nails into them.

"You", the word was hissed through your teeth, "are in no position to order me around."

Tom scoffed and was about to argue when your mouth unexpectedly wrapped around the head of his penis, twirling your tongue around it. He let out a choked gasp and he tried to put his hand on your head again before you smacked it away. Swallowing his pride, he rested both of his arms on the side of his chair, bucking his hip forward.

Carefully watching his reaction you wrapped your hand around him, slowly moving it down and back up again, following the movement of your mouth. The feeling of him filling your mouth was causing some saliva to start dripping your chin, but rather than pulling away, you pushed him further into your mouth till your nose was buried in his dark pubic hair. The feeling of his swollen head hitting the back of your throat made you gag, causing Tom to groan in pleasure.

"Fuck this", he muttered, before grabbing you by your hair and pulling your head up, before pressing it down again. His hips buckled in harmony with your head, making sure you were taking all of him. His dick was now coated in your saliva, making it glisten in the dim light. You closed your eyes, the lack of oxygen making them sting. The rapid pace with which he was moving was making it hard for you to breathe through your nose and you tried giving him a warning slap on his leg, which he purposefully ignored. Instead, he moved his other hand towards your chin and held your head still, while he continued to thrust his hips up and down. Sloppy wet noises filled his office, being interrupted only by his heavy breathing.

Your thighs clenched together in a weak attempt to relieve the burning ache between your legs. The way he was using your mouth to satisfy himself was making your underwear damp, yet you knew better than to touch yourself yet. After so many sleepless nights during which you tried to relieve yourself, imagining how would it feel to taste him, you wanted to focus all your attention only on him.

Feeling he was close, Tom finally pulled your head back and examined your face. Both saliva and tears were smeared all over your chin and your cheeks were flushed in rosy colour.

"What a pretty sight you are, my dear", he smiles, wiping some of it with his thumb. You licked your lips, getting up on your feet.

"And you are such a smooth talker", your face leaner just inches from his, "I wonder if you are as good with the action as you are with words."

Taking this as a challenge, he stood up and pushed you back onto the desk, before lifting your skirt. His fingers hooked under the elastic bands of your panties and with one tug they snapped, leaving you completely exposed in front of him.

Tom gulped, burning the image of your waiting arousal into his mind. His fingers made their way towards your slit, gathering the wetness before easily sliding his middle finger in. You moaned at the contact, fluttering your eyes closed. He pumped his fingers a few times, his eyes carefully observing your facial expression before he slid it out. You whined at the loss of contact, opening your eyelids only to find him smirking down at you.

"Do you really think you deserve me wasting time on your pleasure?"

"Fuck you!", you snapped, resulting in him grabbing your neck and squeezing so hard, an airy cough left your lips.

"Such a dirty mouth", he lifted your face up, his jaw clenching, "but such a weak mind. Look at the pathetic mess you are..."

Your lips parted to offer a snarky response, but your mind quickly went blank the moment he slid fully into you. Arching your back, your hands found their way around his shoulders, while his rested on both sides of your head.

Tom did not waste any time in developing a quick pace, which made you roll your eyes back. With each thrust the head of his cock was brushing against your cervix, making your whole vision white. His left hand moved towards one of your breasts, pinching and twisting the oversensitive nipple between his fingers. His other hand made his way to your pussy, where his thumb started to draw sloppy circles over your clit.

Never in your life have you felt such pleasure in your life. Of course, you had previous lovers during the past two years while trying to get Tom out of your mind, but nothing compared to this. Curling your toes, you lifted both of your legs and rested them on his shoulder.

Both of you groaned in unison when you felt him going even deeper than before. His upper body collapsed on top of yours, his lips immediately latching onto your other nipple. Still gripping his shoulders, you dragged your nails down his back, leaving angry red marks behind.

The knot in your stomach started to tighten and your moans became louder and louder. Moving your hips so you can meet Tom's thrusts, you looked at his face, only to find him staring back with eyes clouded with desire. His fingers were now working faster on your sensitive bud and you let out a shaky breath: "Tom, I...", you could not finish your sentence, your vocabulary suddenly consisting only of his name.

"Shhh", he whispered, his hand moving from your breast to your cheek. He gently stroked it with his thumb and suddenly you saw in front of you the same Tom that charmed you years ago, "I've got you."

His words were enough to cause the knot to snap and your whole body went rigid, squeezing and pulsating around him. A few harsh trusts and Tom suddenly tensed on top of you, as he painted your insides white. You both held onto each other, fingers digging into soft flesh, as you melted into your shared euphoria.

It was not romantic.

It was primal. Rough. Dirty.

It was everything you have imagined.

Finally relaxing on top of you, Tom buried his head in your shoulder, trying his best to calm his breathing down. You laid under him, crushed under his weight, yet enjoying every second of the contact he allowed you to have.

Against your better judgment, you lifted your hand and started to gently stroke his hair. Against his better judgment, he allowed you to and closed his eyes in the process.

Tired from the long day and your office activity, Tom lifted you in his arms, his now soft member slipping out of you and he sat back on his chair, adjusting the backrest so you can both take a more comfortable position.

You lifted yourself from his chest and raised your eyebrow, but bit back your tongue the moment your gaze crossed his stern one, warning you not to voice whatever you had in your mind. Letting out a small chuckle, you shook your head and laid it back down on his skin.

There was an urge burning inside of you to mock him about showing gentleness, but deep down you knew this was your only chance to enjoy it. So you closed your eyes and relaxed, finally being able to fall asleep without the haunting dreams of what could've been.

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The sunlight was painting the whole room in a beautiful gold colour and Tom let out a low groan when he felt it hitting his face. His hand made its way over his eyes, shielding them from the light, while his mind slowly started to become aware of his surroundings. The uncomfortable chair was making all of his muscles ache and he immediately regretted not gathering the energy last night to make his way back to his room. The chill air coming from the window has not helped too, especially when we was only partly covered and-

Tom's eyes shot open looking down at his body and finding his suit jacket thrown over his waist and private parts. You, however, were not to be found. Not on top of him, not on the desk, nowhere in the room.

He immediately stood up, grabbing his pants from the floor and furiously putting them on, while breathing heavily. His gaze fell on the stack of books he pushed from his desk last night and he immediately fell on his knees, scanning the floor around him.

"No, no, no", he hissed under his breath, pushing his hair out of his eyes, "That little serpent!"

Not only you have left, but you also have taken the diadem with you. No matter how much he searched for it, it was definitely not here.

You tricked him.

Getting up back to his feet, Tom kicked one of the books on the floor, before slamming his hands on his desk. His breathing was hard and he could feel his blood boiling in his veins. Suddenly, his attention was caught by a small parchment of paper placed next to his quill. Unfolding it, he could have sworn his heart stopped for a second.

"My dear Tom,

Thank you for our wonderful night together. I did not want to leave you so early, but I had to be out of the castle before everyone else woke up. To be truthful with you, I am not going to be your new assistant. But your already knew that, so I guess it is not shocking news. I sneaked it yesterday when all of the teachers were having a party (or what you call a gathering, ha!). Neither do I have a new lord. You already knew that as well.

Do not stress about the diadem, as it is safe with me - if there is one thing I learned from you is that I need to take good care of horcruxes once they are made. I know it was probably foolish of me to bring it to you last night, as it does hold a part of my soul, but I promise that from now on I will take better care of it.

Without doubt your paths shall cross again. Remember Tom: You are mine. Always were, always will be.

Love, y/n

P.S. - I hope you do not mind that I helped myself by getting your keys from your jacket and getting a shower in your room. Also, I think you need to follow your own advice and start putting your objects away. I found your diary resting on your bedside table, so I had to take it with me. Do not worry - I promise I will keep it safe...

for now."

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CC artwork: Nasan Hardcastle

[gemissleeping]

Sea Foam | Chapter Four

Theodore Nott x Siren!Reader

Read the other Chapters here.

Summary: After a moonlit swim, you find Theo in the Common Room. Half asleep and buried in a book.

Length: 2.2k

Notes: This is so late and I am so sorry. I really struggled with this chapter, but I hope it was worth the wait! NSFW ahead, minors dni. Soft Theo, Sleepy Theo. First time smut writer and it is relatively soft, not super spicy sorry. It might be bad oops <3

Beams of moonlight broke through the slick of the surface, cutting down to the bottom of the lake. There was a soft current pulling at you, kelp licking at the skin of your back. Arms outstretched towards the rays, fingertips dancing through them curiously.

It was these nights, weightless and floating through the darkness, that you almost found yourself enjoying it all. No full moon to shatter your mind, to cause you to betray yourself. It brought a kind of quiet you were certain you’d never felt anywhere else, and never could.

Theo’s words were heavy on your mind, threatening to sink you with their weight. You’d tried to brush him off again, to pretend that the last few weeks had been easy for you. But it wasn’t the truth. In his absence you had only grown wanting. Finally settling on the undeniable truth of who he was to you. Who he had always been, even when you had tried so desperately to push him aside, ignore the way your eyes found one another in every room. Every breath becoming so unbearably conscious when the other was near.

It was past midnight when you found him in the common room. Tucked into the nook of couches by the window. Your hair still doused in salt. Wind-bitten and bone-tired as you pulled your clothes tighter to your skin.

You’d known he would be here, though you pushed it to the corners of your mind any chance you got. Only watery ribbons of moonlight accompanied him, splayed across his skin. Ripples of light swimming against the marks that dotted the skin of his neck, his cheek. His eyes half-drawn with the need for rest.

A book was strewn lazily through Theo’s hands as he leant back. Head resting against the lounge’s spine, losing his fight against the pull of sleep.

You couldn’t help but smile at the sight, unable to recall ever having seen him so disarmed before. His chest rising and falling with each gentle breath. It was a brutal thing, to see someone so themselves. To see what they might’ve been like if they’d been left completely unbruised and unburdened. It wasn’t something you allowed yourself to linger on for long.

You drew yourself closer, still engulfed by the dips of shadow that traced the candlelit walls. You came to rest by the high arched window, just a few heartbeats away from him. Wet hair curled, water running down the backs of your arms and onto the windowsill as you lazed into it. Head tilting, trying to catch the title of the leather bound book in Theo’s hands.

Curiosity was biting at you, and so you found yourself leaning towards the boy. One tentative hand on the lounge’s arm as you studied the page Theo had stilled on. It should have come as no surprise when the the candlelight flickered across it, revealing Sirens, Sea Creatures & Other Secrets of the Depths. Fondness licked at your chest, your eyes flickering from the book’s open page to Theo’s dream swept expression with a soft smile.

You turned back to the book, intrigue sinking it’s claws in deeper as you skimmed the inked paper. Reading on in a gentle trance until sleepy fingers brushed your wrist.

Theo gazed up at you through lidded eyes. Unsure if he had truly woken up, or if the dream he yearned for each night had finally come to visit him. His hand encircling your wrist surely, ensuring you would stay right where you were. Right where you were supposed to be.

“Your hair’s wet,” Theo mumbled with a barely-there smile. Your cheeks stained with the heat of being caught as his thumb ran taxing circles over the delicate skin of your wrist. “You went for a swim?”

His tired eyes lifted with question as you glanced down to the water dripping from the ends of your hair. Collecting across his forearm and sliding along the shifting muscles beneath. But he didn’t care, eyes still floating across your face as though he’d finally found his resting place.

“Sorry,” you breathed, reaching out to brush the water from his skin. But his fingers collided with yours, guiding you to a halt.

“Your skin feels like ice,” he murmured, tangling your fingers, only to bring them to his lap. Resting your joined hands atop his book and drawing you towards him, “come here.”

Theo shuffled over, guiding you down softly beside him, his hand still firmly wrapped in yours. You let him direct you, fitting snugly into the couch’s corner. He looked to you, an unguarded affection in his eyes as he watched you settle in.

Once he could feel you beside him, was certain you wouldn’t disappear if he blinked, he peeled off his sweater. Pulling it over his head, making a further mess of his already sleep ridden hair.

He held it out for you, easing it over your arms, your head. Enveloping you in something that was so completely his; the way he wanted you to be. Hands lingering at the sweater’s edges with sincerity, pulling it down until he knew you would be warm.

You smiled at the unexpectedness, settling back into the couch, his hands steering you back. Head lolling against the cushions as your eyes found his, the way they always did. He looked back at you with equal surrender.

“You’re reading about me,” you whispered. Eyes delirious under the candlelight, drinking him in. Softness spilling through your chest.

“Trying to. I like to be familiar with my favourite topics,” his shy smile grew. Head sinking further into the couch as he turned to face you properly. Watched you for a moment; the cold sting of wind across your cheeks thawing at his words. His usually guarded eyes faltered. “Have you thought about it?” he whispered, sounding much braver than he felt. “What I said last night?”

You nodded, eyes drifting from him. Going somewhere deep within yourself. He wished you would take him with you, let him see it for himself. He could’ve well done it, but he hung back, knowing it was wrong. Knowing that at least something between you needed to stay sacred to one, without belonging to the other.

“I don’t want anything to happen to you because of me,” you returned after a moment. The path of Theo’s thumb against your wrist drawing you back to him once again. But still you wouldn’t look at him.

“You won’t hurt me,” he assured, fingers trailing down to brush yours.

“You don’t know that,” you countered, looking down at your hands. The way his fingers danced across the top of yours. How you reached for his even when you wished you wouldn’t.

“Neither do you,” he answered. Knowing he was right when your eyes finally lifted to his once again.

“And if you’re wrong?”

He could see how afraid you were; for him, of yourself, losing the both of you along the way. Every jagged edge that was keeping you away from him. How deeply your care ran. He knew it then; that he would follow you down there, of his own accord. Even if it was foolish, even if it doomed him. He wouldn’t close his eyes, he wouldn’t struggle. Not if it meant his last breath would be yours to keep.

“Then it will be my mistake to make,” he decided. One hand leaving yours, reaching to tuck a loose strand of damp hair behind your ear. Relishing in the way you hugged his sweater tight to your bones. “You can’t decide if I get to love you,” his eyes didn’t dare stray from yours, “I've already made up my mind.”

His words demolished any of your lingering doubts. You fell into him completely, sinking in the sureness of it all. The unwavering way in which he let it leave him; that he wanted to love you. Perhaps even already did. He watched you carefully, a satisfied smile pulling at his lips, fingertips trickling down your neck.

“I’m yours, if you’ll have me.”

That was all it took for you to leave it all behind. Everything you had resisted these past weeks, every part of him you’d stopped yourself from touching, basking in. You felt as though the moon had made its path early. Utterly consumed by him as you nodded, nose brushing his as you suddenly grew aware of just how close you had become.

“Please.”

His lips fell against yours within an instant, hungering for you. It almost broke you, caught you alight. Fire spreading from his lips and igniting you after weeks of kindling touches, glances. Hands threading through your hair as he drew you into him. The two of you barely able to breathe from the unbreakable warring of your lips. Your hands flying to his jaw, pulling him closer to you.

You were tired of resisting him, denying both of you of what you wanted most. It wasn’t long before he had hooked his hands beneath your thighs. Pulling you across his lap as you pressed into him, feeling all of him beneath you.

Your desperation was only mirrored in the ferocity of his kiss. A chain left from your lips to the corners of your jaw. Rough kisses smattered across your skin as his hands began to roam. Pushing up the hem of his sweater, curious fingers tracing your sides. You shivered against his touch, your hands travelling the soft skin of his neck. Drifting up its back to tangle through his hair, pulling him inconceivably closer.

In a matter of minutes you found yourself in an abandoned wing of the Slytherin dormitories. Being set down softly atop the bed as Theo hovered over you. The room utterly devoid of light save for a sliver of moonlight from the lake’s windows.

“You’re sure?” Theo asked against your lips. Though from the rasp in his voice, he was barely holding it together to be able to ask the question at all. You could feel him pressing against your thigh, the sensation dizzying as you gasped against him.

“I'm yours.”

Theo groaned at the tremble in your voice, the restraint from the past month dissipating nearly completely as he made quick work of your clothes. Your hands flying to his belt as he pulled his sweater over your head. Lips refusing to leave each other’s, fingers working blind. His hands greedy as he trailed the new skin he’d yet to touch. Both of you driven to madness until nothing remained between either of you.

Sweat and skin pressed against one another as he rolled his hips into yours. Each rock of his hips drawing a gasp from you as you struggled against him, wanting nothing more than to build the friction.

Theo only simpered, enjoying how badly you needed him after denying the both of you of each other for so long. How unashamedly you clung to his arms, the muscles straining as he held himself above you.

The length of him almost tore you apart as he pushed himself into you. Bottoming out as both of you inhaled sharply against one another. A pained sound leaving you in the rush of air from your lips, he faltered.

“Are you alright?” Theo’s eyes flickered open, blinking away the lust that had consumed them as concern overtook everything else. You nodded, adjusting to his size as his eyes softened for a moment, his hand coming to rest against your cheek.

“I won’t move until you tell me to,” he breathed, his eyes falling closed as he rested his head against yours. The pad of his thumb tracing the slopes on your cheek, your jaw.

“I know,” you whispered against him.

A tender kiss pressed to your lips as Theo gave you time. Your hands tangling in his hair, bringing him down to you for a while until he pulled back for a moment. Watching as the moonlight fell across your cheek. Tracing it with his fingertips. Wrapped up entirely by how beautiful you looked beneath him. The light spilling across your skin, catching in your eyes.

You nodded tenderly, his lips pressing against the corner of your own. His eyes flicked up to yours, as he continued to press his lips along your skin.

“You’re all I want,” he breathed, smoothing his fingers through your hair before he kissed you once more.

His lips strayed again, wandering down to the skin of your neck. Hips pressing into yours as he pushed himself deeper. Heat erupted from where he buried himself within you, the sensation buzzing through your body in waves. Pushing the air from your lungs, making you choke on your own breath. Your head falling against Theo’s shoulder, lips parting soundlessly at the fire erupting across your skin. Unable to remove yourself from where you hid in his neck. Each roll of his hips only deepening the feeling.

His hand found the side of your neck with tender fingers. Trailing up to the underside of your jaw as he brought you back, guiding you to look at him. Pulling you into him further while you shuddered against him. Lips still parted and struggling to meet his eyes.

The sight was enough to send Theo over the edge, his pace growing irregular as his thumb brushed your bottom lip. His eyes completely misted at the sight of you before him; of what he was doing to you.

And as you tangled yourself into him, pulling him suffocatingly close, you tried to drown it out; that feeling.

That you had tried, and failed, to save him; and now could only love him.

Keep an eye out for Chapter Five here, or comment to be added to the tag list for future updates <3

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if i missed anyone please let me know!

[dylansfavwife]

kiss me

୨ৎ theodore nott x fem!reader (a lot of fluff)

୨ৎ warnings : not proofread

୨ৎ word count : 484

୨ৎ summary : you and theo finally admit that you are in love with another.

a.n : was listening to kiss me by sixpence none the richer and suddenly wanted to write some cute fluff

"this is ridiculous" you giggled as you twirled showing theo the blue floor length dress you currently wore. you weren't used to wearing anything close to this fancy and you felt silly being this dressed up.

theodore had invited you to an event his parents were throwing, you just hadn't expected everything would be this expensive looking.

"you look beautiful, baby" he promised looking at you with his pretty brown eyes as he pulled you in, lightly kissing your lips before pulling away and dragging you with him.

"what-where are we going?" you questioned as you followed him, his hand still lightly grasping yours.

"it's fine, we won't be long. my parents won't even notice we left" he reassured as he continued to lead you further away from his manor.

you felt you're breath hitch as you suddenly stopped noticing the view ahead of you. it was a long, seemingly never ending field littered with flowers of all kind. the only source of light at this late hour being the moon and the stars which you could see clearly here.

you looked over at him excitedly, your eyes twinkling in excitement at the gorgeous view. he was already looking at you with a lopsided grin, knowing you would've loved to see this.

"it's so beautiful" you finally announce after a moment of silence, where you took in the view.

"not as beautiful as you" he replied as he stepped closer to you, his body and scent consuming all your thoughts.

"that was so cheesy" you teased, laughing as he joined in. suddenly he grabbed your cheek, his hand soft against your skin. his eyes looked lighter in the moonlight and you found yourself entranced by his features as they basked perfectly in the night.

theo’s eyes softened and he slowly exhaled, you could tell he was clearly nervous causing a sudden burst of butterflies in your stomach out of nerves for what he was going to say.

"i love you. i've never been sure of anything more in my life." he uttered, the words whispered into the quiet night. you felt your words gets caught in your throat as a small smile pulled at your lips.

you pulled him down by his neck, connecting your lips in a soft kiss which you hoped translated all the deep feeling you felt for him. you pulled away grinning so hard, your cheeks hurt "i love you too"

at your words he pulled you in for a deeper kiss, it was passionate and slow as he rubbed his thumb gently against your cheek, the small touch grounding you.

being in this field with his lips on yours, you knew that this was all you ever wanted and all you will ever need.