#theodorenott smut

[romeosharpae]

“SAVE YOUR TEARS”

theodore nott x reader

content warning : extremely toxic relationship, cursing, public sex, mature language, explicit adult content, rough sex?, degrading, theodore nott x female reader, oral (f receiving), toxic! theodore nott.

parts : 1,2,

You're sure that if you were to ask anyone with common sense what they thought about you and Theodore Nott's relationship, they'd say it should be against Wizarding law.

"I don't want to talk!" You reprimanded, folding your arms over your chest with a huff. Theodore Nott simply rolled his dead-like blue eyes at your enraged lie.

Looking up at him, you could've sworn a twisted smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "C'mon baby, you're hurting my feelings." He mocked your soft voice.

"You don't have feelings." You mumbled, frustration growing in your voice. Theodore lowly chuckled, leaning his face down to kiss you but you turn away. "Get off of me, Nott, I need to go to Transfiguration."

Theo wrapped a veiny hand around your forearm when you tried to push past him, pulling you back to the stone wall. This time Theodore placed both his hands aside your head, trapping you between him and the wall. From the look on his pale face, you could tell that he knew you were still upset.

But how could you not be?

"Go back to wherever you were last--" Theodore scoffed loudly, drowning out the seething words leaving your lips.

"Are you kidding me?" He snapped. Even though you hated when he used that tone towards you, you weren't to back down. No, you were not about to apologize to Theodore and end up on your knees seconds later just to stop his yelling this time around.

"Funny. Those are the same exact words I repeated last night as I waited around thirty minutes for you." You shot back.  "You know, Theodore.. I really do hate y--"

"Watch your mouth." He warned.

"What's her name, huh?" You continued. Theodore's jaw clenched from anger. He can handle every insult you threw his way, but Theodore really hated when you accused him of being with someone else. "Is it Greengrass? She didn't learn from the last time I dragged her by her root--?!"

You recalled the last time one of Theodore's hook-ups confronted you, and the amount of Slytherin's it took to get you off of her. As previously said before, you were a sweet girl, but the side of you that Theodore brought out, wasn't as friendly or sweet..

"Shut up, you're not even that type of girl." Oddly enough, Theodore was right, you were not the type of a girl to threaten to physically hurt someone, especially over him. The more you thought about it, the more stupider that you sounded by saying that.

You were so stupid.

Had you not been stupid you wouldn't be in this predicament with the emotionless Slytherin brunette. You would've ran for this hills the moment he made it clear your relationship was just a friend-with-benefits dynamic, knowing you wanted more. Theodore knew you were stupid, so vulnerable, and he took advantage of that.

And that made your eyes began to well with tears, eyesight becoming blurred. Before you could even get the chance to control yourself, you began sobbing loudly. How could it even be possibly to hate someone yet love them as much as you do Theodore Nott?

Lucky for your image, everyone else was in class, or you would've looked like a complete maniac to the bystanders.

"Fuck..." Theodore deeply exhaled. The sobbing only became louder as he wrapped his arms around your figure, the heat from his body which was usually comforting seeming insufferable. "What's wrong..? What did I do?"

"Everything!"

You pushed yourself away from him, completely catching your lover off guard. During the years that you've known each other, never have you pushed him away. Even if he was the reasoning behind your distress, you still allowed him to comfort you.

"My best friend hates me!" You cried out, sadness easily detected in your tone. "She won't even talk to me!"

"Why would she hate you?"

Hate was complete exaggeration and you definitely knew that. Hermione Granger actually doesn't hate you. But you don't doubt for a moment she was extremely upset and disappointed with you; You, and everybody else could see the anger on her face when Theodore walked with you, hand-in-hand, inside the Great hall the morning following your rekindling at the Black lake.

"Umm, because I keep putting myself in the same unhealthy situation with you--" You said the obvious and your voice cracks.

Unhealthy situation (toxic).

Despite you being upset in the moment, you knew to avoid having Theodore's patience with you snapping, you shouldn't call it that.

He hated when you or outsiders would name your relationship that.. He claimed that although it had its flaws-way more than the common couple, it wasn't toxic.

But it was!

"Merlin." Theodore hissed, irritated. "Why does it matter what she thinks, Y/N?" Theo's continued rambles make you frown. "Granger and Weasley can not even admit they like each other--Why would she even care?"

"Because she's my friend!"

You could tell he wished she wasn't..

"Friends care about each other, Theodore. Unlike you and yours, me and Hermione are not just friends because it makes us look good." You started hypocritically, and a small frown spreads on the brunette's lips. "So of course she's not going to want me to be with someone who treats me like.. crap!"

You were telling the actual truth. The little patience that he had for you during your outburst has fully vanished as he grabbed the back of your neck, harshly forcing you to look into his dark blue eyes. "Don't say that, Y/N."And you could see the anger rising in his face although he had no right to be mad,

Hermione would tell you that the worse part about you and Theodore's situation was that you knew he disregarded your emotions yet you still went back. It ashamed you how Theodore had you wrapped around his finger. And you fully knew that a toxic relationship was bad enough, but it was even worse if both parties knew the reality of it.

And perhaps that's what led you sob even louder in the moment. Or why you wrapped your arms around Theodore, letting your emotions off into his chest. The brunette's hands slides up from your neck into the back of your head, rubbing you in comfort.

"Aren't the two of you suppose to be in class right now?" Flinch, who guarded the corridors questioned nastily.

If looks could kill, Flinch would be unresponsive on the ground from the way that Theodore turns to glare at him. You pulled away from him, despite the protest your body was giving you, and wiped your tears. There's Concern is written over the squibs face as he watched pull yourself together.

Your attempt to walk away and to Transfiguration fails against when Theodore repeated his earlier action by pulling you back to him. "Stop crying." Theodore's large hands cups your face, bringing you to meet him in a gentle yet powerful kiss.

Merlin, you really hated Theodore, just everything about him. But unfortunately for your sanity, you found yourself loving those same things undefinably.

Did Theodore Nott love you?

You found it sad that you knew the complicated answer to that overly question.  Yet here you were standing, knuckles practically forced between your lips, one leg pressed into the wooden bookshelf as Theodore ate you out like a starved man.

His tongue was roughly swirling against on your clitoris, annually sucking up the juices he earned from you. Your heart was beating rapidly, chest heaving up and down. And you didn't know weather this adrenaline rush was from the pleasure you were feeling or because you were in the schools library.. Or because on the other side of the bookcase was Harry Potter and Hermione Granger.

A person who Theodore had just wrongly accused you of flirting with and wanting to fuck, and the other who probably wishes upon a well that you'd leave him alone. Clearly, the brunettes motives behind wanting to take you right here were clear. And had he not preformed a silencing charm on the two of you, your sure they would've heard your whining and his sucking, slurping, and curses. But a silencing charm wouldn't have stopped someone, anyone, from walking by and seeing the two of you in this obscene state, and that makes you throb, lowly moaning.

"Theo--" You sob.

Theodore growled against your wet flesh, bringing your body closer to him by the hand that he had on your waist. "You want more?"

Despite it being so sick, you nod.

And you knew the sickness behind this situation was what caused that large smile to smile across his full pink lips. He pushed your leg further back into the bookshelf, allowing himself more access before burying his face in-between your thighs once again.

You were absolutely terrified of what would happen had somebody saw you like this, vaginal area on display as the same boy you'd just been fighting with in the courtyard made a embarrassing mess out of you, the rumors that would be spread about you would tarnish your reputation for sure.

You squeeze your eyes shut, butting down further on your knuckles as you roll yourself against his pleasuring tongue.

You could feel your release approaching, probably only one tongue swipe away from getting it out of you. But Theodore ripped his mouth away from you, like you did not deserve your release, and it's gone with the wind. He was such a tease, and you really hated that. Theodore slapped your hand away when you tried to pull his head back between your thighs. Theodore stands to his feet, towering over your height like a tree as usual, and you watched as his fingers frantically went to unbuckle his belt. The desperation clear, the burning fire, behind his eyes as he started at you lets you know that Theodore Nott was seriously about to fuck you until were completely incoherent.

Harshly, Theodore manhandled you around until your back was facing him. Now, your chest was pushed up against the cold bookshelf and due to a few missing books, you could currently see both Hermione and Harry sitting down at a table, studying. Had one of them looked up and stared in your direction, your sure they'd see your face. This makes you hiss out, wanting to look away but Theodore roughly grabbed your jaw, keeping you in place before you could even get the chance.

"Hold it," He breathed out, and without a second thought you scrunched up the plaid school skirt you wore in your hands. Your breath hiked, "'He's no good for you, Y/L/N'" Theodore gritted in your ear, mocking your best friend. Before you could defend her honor, you felt him buried deep inside of you.

"Why don't you fuck my other best friend instead?" Your body knocked into the bookshelf at every hard thrust he gave you. From the way Theodore had you stretched around him your jaw drops, a strangled moan escaping from it loudly. "But you'd like that wouldn't you? He's what you want?"

You would admit that Harry Potter was an attractive boy. He was nice to you, always offered to help you with things, or walk you back to your house after class. And to say that you never thought he liked you would be a lie. But why would you want anything to do with Harry when you had Theodore?

Your eyes squeezed shut. At your lack of response to his question, Theodore pounds into you painfully harder, no doubt realizing that you are actually thinking about the question. "But I'm what you need, Y/N. He can't ever do the things that I do to you, remember that." You whine like a neglected infant at that, for more perhaps?

You stand up on you are tipped toes, attempting to brush an little bit of the pleasuring pain you were feeling but Theodore wasn't going for it. He wrapped his hand around your throat, forcing your back to his chest, whispering harshly in your ear, "Stop running, Take it."

Your pull your lower lip between teeth, attempting to stop yourself from screaming as you finally came undone. Tears began to fall from your glistening eyes, landing on the white button up blouse that were wearing.

Theodore ruts himself into you even harder, holding you in place by your throat to get himself off and nearly cutting off your airway. Although you didn't entirely mind.

As previously said, you enjoyed everything Theodore Nott had to offer you, even the not exactly mentally sane stuff. Theodore finally pulled himself out of you, and you were that he was about to finish. That was until he spun your around to face him, placed his hands underneath your kneecap, and hauled you up. Without even having to be asked,  you wrapped your legs around his waist.

You also took Theodore's lips into yours without having to be asked. Your trembling hands catered his face, tongue sliding over his in an extremely sloppy manner.

But the kiss was disconnected, your teeth baring with a hiss when he slips back in you. Theodore was pace was different this position, a lot more slower and deep, almost meaningful. "You think he'll still like you if he saw us?" He challenged, panting heavily.

"You wouldn't even care, would you?" He chuckled, giving you a smile that displays all his pretty pearly white teeth. "Because I'm all you need, right?"

You nodded your head, agreeing.

"Merlin Nott, you're such asshole!"

You had not even realized that you were crying.. not until you felt Pansy Parkinson hands brush against your cheeks. Her other hand was on your back, attempting to soothe you but it was failing to work.

Theodore looked at you with dead eyes. Yet even then you could see the amusement behind them, almost taunting you. And that made you that much angrier. You picked up an object from the table, launching at the brunette. "I...I hate you! S-So much!"

Theodore dodged it, the same way he does every time you tried throwing something at him while arguing. "Crazy little bi--"

Crazy?

Truthfully, you were in disbelief at the word that just escaped Theo's mouth. How dare he have the nerve to say you were behaving crazy? How dare he? Not when Theodore just basically called you clingy and told you to fuck off in front of his friends.

The embarrassment hurt just as bad as any other time he denied your relationship in and out closed doors. How could he just call things off whenever he felt like it? And you realize that you gave him that confidence by crawling back each time he did.

You're the reason that Theodore felt so comfortable treating you like something off the bottom of his shoe whenever he felt like it. And who was to say that that would change if there was a label on your situation?

"Why do you keep doing this to me?!" You spoke to him and his jaw clenched. "Merlin What did I do to deserve this?" You cried more to yourself this time.

Ever since you welcomed Theodore back in your life at the Black Lake, you have found your self crying so much more. Why did you have to love someone so nonchalant? So evil Why couldn't you love someone like Harry.. or even Draco Malfoy would be better.

Anything was better than someone that was selfish like Theodore Nott. You have dug yourself into this to insane misalliance because you have allowed him to be so selfish with your love that he didn't even deserve.

“Y--You don’t even deserve me...” You admitted said to him, sniffling. “So hey Nott, fuck you.” You wanted to launch something else at Theodore, shout, cry some more but that was the reaction that he wants from you. “Fuck you, Theodore Nott!” His jaw clenched at those words, expression twisting.

He wanted to see you insane at his hands, break yourself until you had other choice but to come to him comfort.

You snatched yourself out of Pasny’s grip, Theodore wore an expression that you couldn’t quite read because it’s so unfamiliar. Regret? Confusion? You couldn’t tell.

And for that you could not contain yourself from throwing a pillow at him. “You will never find someone better than me!”

You both knew that.

Then you breathlessly laughed, “And that’s disappointing because you’ll never ever have me again, Theodore Nott.”

Part four >>>

[mommynott]

I need some soft sex with Theo :( need him to push into me slowly and tell me how much he loves me as he kisses me and leaves a bunch of love marks all over my neck and chest :(

And be still wouldn’t be able to help himself as he wraps his hand round my neck, gently though<3

Oh my god anon YESSS !!! Let’s get into it, yeah?

Ti Amo

Theodore Nott x Reader

Summary: Little Drabble of your boyfriend showing you just how much he loves you

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, SMUT, Chars 18+, College Au, bf!theo, softdom!theo, dom!theo, choking, hickies, soft slow sex, relationship, soft dom, PIV

His hips slowly rolled his cock inside of you, his breathing heavy. One of Theo’s hands was wrapped around your throat while the other propped him up. Your doe-eyed gaze remained locked on his, your whimpers heard throughout his dorm. “Cazzo— I fucking love-” He pauses for a moment to let out a pleasurable groan, kissing along your jawline. “—You…So much, Bambina.” With harder, elongated thrusts, he moaned against your cheek.

“Theo—Gods…I love you too— please…please keep fucking me like that.” Squeaking out through your own little cry of pleasure, you could feel Theodore’s strong hand tightening around your neck. A little gasp freeing from your swollen lips. “That’s it, Tesoro���who do you love, huh? Who do you fucking love?” Now kissing down your neck, he sucked ever so slightly, leaving his love bites all over your sensitive flesh while he softly pushes his throbbing length in and out of your pussy. Struggling with himself to not pound you senselessly.

Your moans only progressively got louder, his bed frame rocking along with his slow thrusts. “Y-you…I love you—“ Your eyes were practically rolling to the back of your head now. He was bringing you to a state of pure ecstasy. A state you knew all too well with him. “That’s right…you love me…” Theo’s thumb gently caressed against the skin of your neck, feeling the rapid pulse within it. “I have your heart in the palm of my hand, amore…Ti amo tanto…” Even through the sensual lovemaking, his dominant nature was slipping through. But fuck did you love it.

Slowly pumping his dick into your warmed and soaked core, you could hardly contain the immense amount of pleasure that was now soaring throughout you. Not only pleasure…but love too. “Theo, baby I’m so close—“ Whining as your body squirmed from the nearing climax, a satisfied smirk tugged on the corners of his lips. “My good girl…Cum all over my cock...Show me just how much you love me.” Encouraging you, he kept his slow and steady pace, feeling you progressively get wetter while your tightened walls clenched around his aching cock.

Hehehe a small lil Drabble of softdom!theo he’s just so asdffkghlhlk

Hope my sweet smut sluts liked this one💋

Divider pinned in my masterlist🌙

[iniquitousyearning]

SLYTHERINSLUT0’S KINKTOBER

fuckfest. the slytherins — groupsome / drunk sex.

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST. | 2024.

summary: malfoy manor is a great place for drinks, laughs, and…. orgys?

warnings: 18+ MDNI, SMUTTTTTT, porn with negative 100 plot, literally just sex and mentions of alcohol, group of uni students that love to consensually gangbang when they have the chance (sorry i’m cackling at that), pansy and reader kiss a few times, multiple orgasms from some of the boys, anal sex, fingering, oral.

Habits are simple, predictable things, slipping into your life without much thought. Some are reckless, some harmless. And some, well��some come with the taste of someone else's lips.

You're not sure when kissing Pansy Parkinson became one of them. What started as a drunken dare, a little more fun than you'd planned for, has now undoubtedly turned into something else—something almost close to ritual. With every night that stretches long, every round of drinks that comes too fast, it's inevitable that your lips will find hers at one point or another, like clockwork.

And a habit is just a habit, but this one—this one you never feel like breaking.

"You ever try body shots with tequila?" Pansy whispers, breath warm against your lips as her smirk hooks you, the same way it always does.

"Plenty of times." You grin back, your mouth barely brushing hers. "What, you want me to lay back for you, Parkinson? Shirt pulled down—or off?"

Theo whistles, and Pansy giggles. They've seen this before, watched it unfold in countless variations, yet it's still equally as entertaining every single time.

"Pull it down, take it off, whatever gets me there faster." She's already moving, grabbing lime and salt with hands that are too steady for how much you've all been drinking. "You know I won't complain either way."

You pour her a shot, liquid gold catching the dim light in the room. You feel the weight of every inebriated gaze on you—Draco, Blaise, Enzo, Mattheo, Theo—all of them watching, same way they always do when you and Pansy put on a show.

You blink and she’s back in front of you, lime and salt in hand. You feel bold, drunk on the moment as you hook your fingers under the hem of your shirt, leaning into her kiss only to break it as you pull the fabric over your head. The boys shift around you—more whistles—and Pansy's hands find your face, greedy and gentle all at once, barely giving you a moment to toss the shirt aside before she nudges you onto your back.

"You're so fucking hot," she purrs, slinking between you and the boys who are seated around the table, grinning. "Tilt your head, that's it—here—"

She nestles the cool shot glass between your tits while sprinkling the salt on your neck—then, the lime slice is between your teeth before you can even register it, and now you're staring straight at Blaise—his dark eyes roving over you like a feast, lips parted just enough that you can imagine the feel of them pressed against your own.

Your thighs tense, heat pooling low in your stomach.

"The boys wanted a show," Pansy whispers as she pulls off her own shirt. "They'll get one."

You hum in agreement and she works like she's done this a hundred times— shot glass disappearing between her lips, tossing the tequila back before she sets it aside— warm tongue dragging along the line of salt on your skin, moving up to suck juice from the lime between your lips. She meets your eyes for what feels like a split second before the lime is yanked free and her mouth is on yours, lips tasting like tequila and salt and something wild—

You close your eyes against the flood of sensation—the alcohol, the heat, the spinning of the room—and kiss her back with equal fervour. Her lips crush yours, sloppy and wild, a thousand impulses spinning through your mind and inevitably, you're too weak to fight them, tugging her closer as a result.

Pansy huffs, fingers curling into your hair as she crawls on top of you—straddling your hips on top of the table as one hand slips down to your chest. The boys are muttering things that you can't hear as the kiss is frantic now, teeth grazing, tongues tangled, the taste of lime and tequila lingering in each exhale.

"Gods, Pansy," you gasp into her mouth, hands sliding down her waist, digging into the fabric of her skirt. "You're insatiable."

She pulls back just enough to smirk, breathless, her dark eyes glinting. "I could say the same about you, babe."

You feel the tension in her greedy fingers as they curl against your scalp, her weight pressing you down into the table, and suddenly—all the teasing, all the playing at flirting feels too far away—you need her closer, need to take control back, need to feel her beneath you instead of towering over you—

"Pans—" your hands find her hips, gripping tight as you push against her, trying to flip her onto her back—but in your haste, you misjudge the edge of the table and before you can stop her she's tumbling forward, off the side, straight into Draco's lap. "Oh—shit—"

Everyone gasps, the room pausing for a moment and you're vaguely aware of Blaise's hands clutching your waist, pulling you steady into his lap as you teeter off the table too, the tequila making your head spin. Pansy is sprawled over Draco on the floor, skirt hitched high enough to give the rest of you a perfect view of her ass—to which everyone in the room is admiring. Shamelessly.

It's a spectacle—and the boys have always loved a fucking spectacle.

"Merlin's sake—" Draco grunts as Pansy slumps over him, straddling his waist. You catch the way his hands grip her thighs, fingers flexing like they don't quite know what to do with themselves. "Always the bloody dramatics with you two.”

"I'm not even sorry." Pansy grins, unrepentant as ever as she leans into Draco's neck, teasing like nothing's even happened, like she's perfectly content to remain there, straddling his lap. "You make a good seat."

Draco scoffs, and Theo snickers from across the table.

"You're a menace." The words from Draco's lips sound a lot like praise, and something about the way his eyes flutter shut when Pansy's tongue finds the sensitive skin at his throat makes your mouth go dry. "You're alright, though?"

"Fine," she murmurs, though her tone suggests she's thinking of anything but her well-being. "Totally fine." Her fingers brush over his chest, tracing the buttons of his shirt. "Are...are you fine?"

"I'm—" his voice catches when her fingers undo the first button. "I'm fine."

"You are," she agrees, voice a little hoarse, as she undoes the second, then the third. "Very, very fine."

Draco's face flushes, and there's a sheepish edge to his smile as his hands—almost without thought—begin to slide higher, fingers trailing under the hem of her skirt, pulling it just a little further up her hips. Her eyes flutter closed for just a second as he settles over the curve of her ass, and there's a spark, a shiver of something between them—

Your gaze flicks to Blaise, feeling his presence at your back—solid, grounding, the warmth of his chest pressed against you as you lean into him. You don't have to see him to know he's watching, though you find the confirmation anyways, his dark eyes tracing every movement, every shift between the two heated Slytherins on the floor.

When you glance back, you see the boys are all watching, too—Theo, Enzo, Mattheo—all glued to the sight, silent in their anticipation.

Pansy grinds down, and Draco's head tips back, eyes closed, hands clinging to her hips, her ass, anywhere he can find—

"They don't waste any time, do they?" Blaise murmurs, words a tickle at your pulse, the sound of his voice pulling you back into your own body, your own skin.

You shiver as his fingers trail lightly up your ribs, teasing the edge of your black lace bra—you tilt your head and you catch Theo's gaze sliding over you, flicking back and forth between Pansy's legs and the way Blaise's hands have begun their slow exploration along your sides. You grin as you meet Enzo's eyes next, his lip pulled between his teeth, fingers tracing the rim of his cup—

"You could take notes, Zabini," you murmur, the words catching in your throat as his lips graze your shoulder—so close, too close.

"Me? Take notes?" He chuckles, pressing a kiss to the spot just below your ear. "I've already got it down to a science, baby.”

"Yeah?" You hum, lost in the feel of his mouth on your skin, the way his fingers are edging dangerously close to your breasts. You can feel Mattheo's gaze, burning into you from across the table, but you don't dare look, you'd crack if you did. "You sure about that?"

"Quiz me if you'd like." As if to prove his point, he pushes past the fabric of your bra, long fingers finding a nipple, and your hips twitch of their own accord, a gasp leaving your lips.  "I'll pass any test you give me."

"Cocky." There's a slight edge to your voice as you roll your hips, meeting his heat with your own—just to distract him, of course. "You're gonna' make the others jealous."

"They'll have their fun," his finger toys with the clasp of your bra, now. You feel him undo it. "I want you first."

"Oh," you gasp at the sensation of cool air against bare skin as he yanks it off your arms, exposing your tits to everyone at the table. "Cocky and greedy."

"You'd expect nothing less, baby." He practically growls.

You choke on a moan. "Blaise-"

"That's my name," he's groping, his fingers pinching your nipples just hard enough to make you squeak. "I know you're real familiar with it."

Pansy's moans, soft and breathy, fill the space as Draco works her out of her skirt, mouth moving between her thighs. You clench—seeing them—her fingers in his hair, her gasps growing louder and more frantic—your pulse quickens—

"Jealous?" Blaise's taunts, having caught you staring.

You shake your head, but—Merlin, how could you not be? You'd give just about anything to relieve the heat between your thighs. To feel the heat of all the eyes watching you right now against your skin. Mattheo, Theo, Enzo—

"Not jealous." Even you can hear how breathless you sound. "Just impatient."

"Patience is a virtue," Blaise says, all mock-virtuousness, squeezing your tits again, as if to punish you for being impatient. "One I'm happy to reward—"

Mattheo is the first to snap, shoving the half-empty bottle of alcohol aside and standing up, chair scraping across the floor. Theo considers doing the same, you can tell, eyes still glued to your half-naked body as he drains his cup in one gulp. Your eyes flick to Enzo, who's merely staring, his lip still being bitten to death between his teeth.

Merlin help you.

Mattheo strolls around the table—eyes roaming as he moves, stopping just behind where you sit on Blaise's lap, breath warm on the back of your neck as he murmurs in your ear—

"I've been patient." You think it's to Blaise. "Where's my reward."

Blaise snorts, and then Theo stands up.

"We've been patient." He's looking at Blaise, lips just starting to grin. "Real, real patient."

Enzo laughs as he rises, too—all three of them forming a loose semi-circle around you and Blaise. You can almost taste the testosterone—hot and eager and hungry—as their eyes rake over you.

Blaise tugs you closer, his hands sliding down to your hips. "I'm feeling outnumbered."

"You're outnumbered," Theo agrees, smirk growing as his fingers wrap around your wrist, tugging you off Blaise's lap and to your feet. "You're also outvoted. You think we're going to just sit around and watch?"

"Not a chance in hell," Mattheo growls as he moves behind you, calloused hand running up your thigh.

Blaise grunts from where he's still seated, watching you with molten eyes, "you lot are animals, you know that?"

You almost laugh at that, considering he had your bra off in minutes.

"We're just—eager." Theo whispers, leaning in just enough to breathe against your neck, kissing a path up your jaw while Mattheo's hands work at undoing your skirt. You're so turned on you're not sure how you're not dripping down your thighs. "I wanted to be inside you three fucking hours ago."

You whimper at his words, the thick air of the room suddenly too much as Mattheo's hands push your skirt down your legs.

"Three hours is generous." Enzo's moving now, but he isn't looking at you—his eyes are locked on Pansy as Draco slams into her—the two of them locked in a trance. "My head's been filled with filth since this afternoon."

"Filth?" Blaise cocks an eyebrow. "Is that what you're calling it now?"

"Filth," Mattheo husks, and his hand comes up to wrap around your throat—lips pressed to your ear. "All I've been able to think about for the past week."

Your hips twitch at the pressure against your throat—and you moan louder than Pansy. "Gods—if one of you doesn't fuck me in the next minute—"

"Told you," Blaise chuckles, watching Mattheo's hand around your throat like a hawk. "Animal."

"Then what?" Mattheo ignores him—fingers pressing against your pulse just a little harder as he pulls you flush against him, teeth finding your ear, and you feel Theo's fingers trail down your front, teasing your slit. "What're you gonna do?"

"Fuck," you mutter, breathless, hips jerking toward the touch. "I'll die—"

"Oh, that's not good." Enzo's looking now, circling around to stand on your free side, his gaze traveling from your face, down your body, to where Theo's fingers are centimetres from pushing into your soaked cunt. "Is it our responsibility to prevent that?"

"Probably. It's only the right thing to do." Mattheo's cooes against your neck. "Can't have you dying on us, now can we?"

"Mm. Not the only," Theo murmurs, pressing his lips to yours as he pushes a finger inside you. "I can think of a dozen things to do right now."

"A dozen?" Blaise scoffs. You're starting to hate the sound of his teasing fucking tone. "Only a dozen?"

You can't even reply—any words you possess are swallowed by another moan as a second, then a third, of Theo's fingers push deep into you. Even his fingers are long, you think. You forgot just how big—

"Merlin, Theo—fuck—"

"That's the idea," he grins against your lips—you moan again when his fingers curl deep.

"You like that?" Mattheos hands are all over you—your tits, your ass, the press of his chest against your bare back—and you think that you need to see his face, need to see his eyes. "You need more?"

"Yes." You're not sure if you're speaking to Mattheo, or Theo, or Enzo or Blaise, or all of them. "Yes, please—please—"

"Oh good," Blaise muses. "She's polite."

"Of course she is," Theo groans as your cunt clenches around his digits—your slick sounds filling the space between you, mingling with the sound of skin smacking from a few feet away. "So good for us."

"Mm," Mattheo adds, teeth scraping over your shoulder, squeezing your ass to make you gasp. "Very."

"A real angel," Enzo purrs, still circling like a fucking shark, eyes flitting over to Pansy and Draco again as her moans grow louder, more insistent. "Especially when she's begging."

It's all too much—Theo's fingers pumping deep, his thumb swirling your clit, the sounds of Draco and Pansy and the feel of hands and lips and intoxicated eyes everywhere—

Your head falls back against Mattheo’s shoulder. "Oh, please—fuck—please—"

"What're you begging for, Bellissima?" Theo murmurs, drawing your eyes back to his. "Wanna use your words?"

You gasp as his fingers move faster, deeper, as if he's trying to pull the words out of your throat. "Need—"

Blaise snickers. "Yes?"

"Need to cum—" you cry out, hysterical as Mattheo pinches your nipples, groans against your neck. "Need to be—fucked—"

"And I'm the greedy one." That's Blaise again, insufferable as ever.

"We like greedy," Theo grins against your mouth, fingers crooking, and your knees buckle. "Right, boys?"

"We do," Mattheo growls.

"We like it a lot," Enzo agrees, his eyes finally meeting yours. "We love it."

"Then what're you waiting for," you gasp, unable to take much more of the heat building, twisting, every point of contact sending a new wave of need through your body. "Give it to me—"

"Give you what?" It's Blaise again—God, he's driving you fucking insane tonight. "You gotta be more specific, babygirl."

"Give—ohh—" your orgasm is right there. Right. Fucking. There. "Give me your fucking dick, Zabini—fuck—you called first—"

"Oh I did, didn't I?" Blaise still hasn't moved from his seat, but you can see the way his trousers are straining. "Guess it's my lucky day."

Theo lets loose a groan, and you can feel his hips jerking in rhythm with his fingers. "Thank Merlin for small favours."

"Lucky for all of us, really." The corner of Blaise's mouth twitches, almost with the suggestion of a smile. "Don't you think, Enzo?"

Before you can even comprehend Enzo's response, Theo curls his fingers just right, thumb rubbing your clit just right, Mattheo groping your chest and kissing your neck just fucking right—and then you're there—climax charging you, release spilling all over Theo's fingers—

"Oh, fuck—yesyesyes—"

You cry out and shudder forward, only being held up by Theo and Mattheos hands, and you're barely back on earth before you feel Blaise's fingers under your thighs—urging you back and laying you out across the table as if you're a fucking feast for him—

"Patience," Blaise grins down at you, hands finding your thighs, squeezing hard enough to drag you back to reality and realize he's got his trousers undone. "Is really such a virtue."

"Right," you mumble, still breathless as you look up at him. "Too bad I'm fresh out."

Blaise chuckles at that. "I can tell."

Fuck this—

"Blaise—if you don't fuck me right now—" you push up from the table, urging him back into the chair he was sitting in. "I will let everyone else fuck me first and make goddamn sure you watch."

There's a flicker of surprise in Blaise's eyes as he slumps back in the chair—Mattheo snorts behind you and for a second you wonder if you may have just gone too far—

"Not a chance," he smiles, his words coming out in a growl that's all heat and lust and something just a little dangerous. "We'll have none of that."

And then, he's on his feet again. But this time, when he touches you, it’s firm and fast and not at all gentle. He directs you around the table before bending you over it, and you hear someone—Theo, you think?—groan like they're in pain, the sound swallowed by a desperate moan that you know for certain is Pansy's.

Your eyes flutter when you hear it—you just don't know where to look—

"No, look up. Up." Blaise's hand is in your hair, forcing you to look up from the table, and you realize where the sound came from. "I want you to watch."

Your head's spinning in a way you're sure is not entirely from the alcohol, and it only intensifies when your eyes focus on the scene just across the room—Draco and Pansy sprawled on the couch, now, Pansy riding him while stroking Enzo's insistent dick, his glossed eyes glued to yours, watching, just watching—

Blaise's hand is still in your hair. "That's it. Watch."

Enzo smiles at you, cheeky and fucking taunting before Pansy tightens her grip while jerking him off and his head tips back—

"Gonna' be good for me," Blaise murmurs against your back—his tip pressing against your dripping entrance. "Gonna' take it all for me?"

"Yes," you gasp, catching a glimpse of Mattheo and Theo just off to the side of you, sharing a smoke. "Fuck yes—"

"That's it, baby. Just relax," he cooes, and then he's pushing into you. "Relax and enjoy it—"

There's a sting as he stretches you, and keeps stretching you until he's bottoming out far fucking deeper than you'd remembered—there's a moan from you that gets tangled between your teeth, a gasp from infront you, a moan from someone else, and—gods, if Blaise doesn't start moving—

"Blaise—oh, fuck—"

Blaise gives a low moan as your walls flutter around him, a swear under his breath that's punctuated with a hard squeeze of your hip. "Good—god—Merlin—"

He pulls out just enough to make you cry out, shameless—and it melds with Pansy's from across the room.

"Shh," Mattheo steps infront of you, blocking your view of Pansy and Draco and Enzo. "Let Blaise feel you—"

—and suddenly, Mattheo's hand is on your jaw, forcing your head back, coaxing your eyes to his. His other hand disappears, down past his belt, and you moan again—wet walls squeezing Blaise as he slowly starts to rock into you.

"I wanna' fuck your throat," Mattheo murmurs, so close you can feel his breath on your lips. "Badly."

"So needy," your words are a breathless moan, but Mattheo doesn't seem to mind—he just grins as he unbuttons his trousers. "Can't even watch for five minutes without—"

"I know, I can't," he interrupts, and his hand's back at your jaw, gripping hard. "You've got me too fucking hard."

You're about to reply with another smartass comment, but Theo saddles up next to his fellow Slytherin and before you can blink his hand is on the back of your head, tangling in your hair, angling your lips toward Mattheo's now-exposed cock—

"Don't worry about the smart mouth," Theo leans down close to you, every intention of cutting off your reply. "We have other uses for it."

You'd probably roll your eyes at the phrase if it wasn't for Mattheo's dick pushing past your teeth and hitting the back of your throat so quick you gag— eyes squeezed shut as Blaise bottoms out, again and again.

"That's one of them." he adds with a smirk, watching you choke on his best friends dick.

You can't even think. Every thought that enters your head is immediately replaced with another moan, another sensation, another need, another—

"Draco! Fuck!" You hear Pansy cry out from the couch.

"Keep going, Pans," Enzo grunts, his voice sounding choked. "Just like that."

"She taking you good, Blaise?" The question comes out in a moan of his own—you think it's Draco—and you wonder idly who's doing what over there now. "Tight as I remember?"

“Tight and wet and—fuck—" Blaise's voice has taken on a new level of strangled, desperate, need that's almost too raw to hear it, and— "she's—good. She's good."

"That's it," Draco grunts again, like he's pleased to hear it. "She's an—oh, yes, Pansy, fuck—"

The noise from the couch is too much—you're not able to think past the fullness—the desperate, overwhelming heat that's consumed you, and that's when you feel a pair of lips at your ear—

"Does it feel good?" Theo's words are barely louder than a whisper, your gagging sounds almost drowning them out. He grabs your hand, slowly bringing it to his crotch. "Having us like this?"

Your fingers are clumsy, shaky as they wrap around him and try to push his trousers down—it's hard to see past the water in your eyes but once you do you're rewarded with a gasp and a low swear under his breath that sounds so damn good you want to hear it a million times more.

"Mmmfff." You moan around Mattheo as Blaise's fingers find your clit, coaxing you towards a high you're not sure you can handle—

"That's it," Theo whispers, moving your hand just the way he likes it. His fingers are tangled with yours while his free hand finds your hair again, shoving you closer to Mattheo. "Fuck. That's it."

Everything is spinning and whirling in the best way, the best possible way, and you know you're there, so close, but it's so hard to think, so hard to do anything—when—

"You gonna' cum for us, baby?" Another pair of lips at your ear, not Theo's voice, but Blaise's—ragged with his deep thrusts. "Gonna' cum for us good and hard?"

Your response, which most likely would have been something along the lines of: "yes" or "please" or "gods yes fucking please," is completely smothered by Mattheo—his hand at the back of your head alongside Theo's, fingers tangled in your hair, cockhead slamming the back of your throat over and over and over—

"Then do it," Blaise knows your answer anyways. His fingers rub quicker, his hips piston faster. "Now."

And it's in this moment where you lose yourself completely—the world narrows down to your body, every sensation flooding through you, and the fucking sounds—Pansy's moans, Theo's groans, Blaise's pants, Mattheo's swearing, Draco's whimpers and Enzo's fucking grunting—where you can't do a goddamn thing to stop it, not that you even wanted to. You do what Blaise told you, cumming so hard you see stars behind your eyes, and for one blissful, everlasting second—you feel nothing but pure unadulterated pleasure, until it all comes rushing back with force.

You think you hear Theo say "good girl" as your body tenses—shaking, trembling, clenching around Blaise so hard his pace falters and his hips slow and his thrusts turn erratic—and then you feel it—the result of his pent up passion as he slows to to an absolute standstill—spilling his cum deep into your cunt while he shudders against you, gasping out a curse that might have been your name.

"Oh, fuck," he groans, slowly—carefully—and you feel him pull out of you just as Mattheo moans, hands tightening in your hair, spilling his own release down your throat. "Oh, sweet Merlin."

It takes a moment for reality to filter back in, and you try to catch your breath in a way that's probably not very dignified. You're not quite sure what to do with yourself—and quite frankly, you're not given the chance to figure it out as Mattheo pulls out too and Theo slips up behind you—

"Come here, Bella," he murmurs, his lips at your ear again—he sounds like he's trying to catch his breath, too. Through the fog you remember that at one point you were jerking him off—and you feel the confirmation of his need still hard against your ass as he pulls you up against him. "There we go. Easy now."

You try to speak—you're not sure what you would even say—but your voice is as shaky as the rest of you, and all that comes out is a soft moan.

"She's—" Blaise's still trying to steady his breath as he slumps into his prior chair, trousers still half undone. "—she's on mars."

"I've a feeling we all are," Theo mutters, holding you against him. His fingers skim down your stomach, almost like he's mapping out the aftershocks. "Some more than others."

You can almost feel the way his eyes flick across the room with that—noting the way Draco's splayed out on the couch next to Pansy who's now riding Enzo and jerking a still half-hard Mattheo—

"Oh, relax," Draco scoffs, eyes shut and head tipped toward the ceiling. "I'll rejoin the land of the living in a moment."

"Sure, Draco," Mattheo huffs, and you can practically hear the roll of his eyes from here. "We'll be here when you do."

"Mm—fuck, Pansy—"

Enzo's moan cuts through their bantering and it's at that moment where Theo finally decides he's waited long enough—he grabs your wrist and pulls you away from the table, directing you to the couch where he slumps down and drags you into his lap, your thighs on either side of his—throbbing, leaking cock pressing against your cum soaked cunt.

You moan, and Pansy moans beside you.

"I think," Theo murmurs into your neck, his words as thick and as needy as his hardness, "I could get used to this."

"S'that right?" You try to keep your words cool, to be as unaffected as you'd like, but—there's no hiding the way your breath hitches, the way you move your hips just the slightest in his lap. "I can't say the same about your size."

"Take me at your own pace." He husks, a smirk you're sure is attached to the words. "I'm halfway there already from that handjob."

You'd laugh at that if you weren't still so breathless and shaky from before, so instead the laugh comes out as a needy moan as you slide forward, shifting in his lap until you feel his tip brush up against your already sensitive clit—

"Gods," you breathe out the word, bracing your hands on his shoulders. "Such a gentleman."

"Always," he replies, completely sincere just before his hands grab your hips and in one quick motion—he's guiding you down onto him. "Always for you."

You'd reply—you'd probably even say something that might be sweet, if you could, if the rest of the world didn't fade into a sort of pleasurable blankness as you sink down—down until the moan that leaves you is so unbridled that it should have been embarrassing if the whole fucking lot of you weren't so far passed embarrassment—because just the head of him is so thick and you're suddenly thankful Blaise stretched you out so deliciously because otherwise you think it'd be too much, too quick and—fuck.

You're still sensitive, and you know he can tell—

"Oh, she's tight." Theo's voice is low in your ear, his lips tracing your jawline. "Too much?"

"Never," you gasp out, offering some weak shake of your head. "Never too much."

He grins against your pulse, teeth scraping across your skin—

"Good."

He punctuates the word by sinking you down a bit more, the stretch of his shaft drawing out a moan from deep in your chest—

"And when it is?"

—he pauses, tightening his grip on your hips to pull you up slightly before sliding you back down—

"Tell me."

You're only half able to form the thought at this point—the other half of you is so preoccupied with the feeling of his hands holding you, his lips against your skin, his voice in your ear—you nod, anyway, and there's another moan from somewhere in the room—Enzo again, and it's more of a whimper than anything else.

"That’s it, Pansy, so good—"

"Feels good, Enzy?" Her response comes through gasps. "You like it like that?"

Blaise answers for them both—you catch a glimpse of him from the corner of your eye, slumped back in his chair with a new drink in hand. "Keep that up and he'll never leave that couch again."

"He's not the only one." Theo's words vibrate through you, and while you're not sure if it's the meaning behind them or the way they're sent deep into your neck with a hint of teeth, either way you have to swallow a moan before you can respond.

"Is that so?" You reply, doing your goddamn best to keep your voice steady as Theo's hips roll up into you again.

"It is so," he murmurs. "You think you can handle staying on this couch all summer?"

Summer. Hardly a week away. You think of the days and nights you're going to spend in this manor, in this room—in this room on this fucking couch—

His hands slip to your ass, guiding you up and down. "You think you could last another hour?"

"Mmm," you manage to get the sound out before he rolls up again, the perfect angle to hit that sensitive spot somewhere deep inside you and that's all you have to say before all other higher level thinking goes out the window. "Oh, Theo, you’re fucking deep—"

"I know," he replies, his breath harsh against your throat, his words lost between the moans you can't seem to keep from slipping out. "I know, bella, I know—"

Cocky bastard.

You lean down, pulling his head against your chest with hands in his hair and he follows. You'd think he'd try to pull back, just to say something witty with a smirk on his face—but instead he groans, his tongue flicking over your nipple and that's when you hear Mattheo grunt from somewhere beside you—

"Fuck me." His voice comes out as a gasp that he's struggling to keep from sounding strangled. Pansy's still lazily stroking him, multitasking while riding Enzo. "I'm so fucking hard again."

If you could manage a proper response, you might have said that was the idea—you'd probably have said something very clever about how you wouldn't mind letting him down your throat again.

You can still think, but the thought is a struggle, so all you manage is a breathless—

"Matt—“

"Mmm?" Hardly a hum—and for some reason it's so much more attractive than it probably should be. "Yes, princess?"

The way you shiver at the pet name is something you're going to have to examine at some point—not now, though, because if you have to put any more thought into any single thing you're going to explode.

"You—you—"

Theo interrupts before you can finish the sentence. "Fuck her, Riddle."

If Mattheo's surprise at Theo's apparent order is evident, it's masked by the moan he lets out as Pansy does something that must have felt especially good.

"I, fuck—I already fucked her throat, Nott. If you'd finish gatekeeping her—"

"She's got another hole, Riddle," Theo replies, with that self-assured tone that's too goddamn cocky to be legal and you wonder absently if he knows what it does to you as he gives a sharp, deliberate roll of his hips. "She can handle it, can't you, bella?"

You try to moan out an answer—you're sure there's a sound there—anything to let him know that yes, you not only can but that you're not sure there's anything you'd rather do—yet the words die before you can get them out as Mattheo is already moving—rough hands finding your ass, spreading your cheeks as he leans down to press a kiss to the dimples on your lower back. The sensation catches you off guard but you don't have time to think about that before you feel something wet—his saliva, you think—slick between your cheeks and then his fingers are there, rubbing and massaging against your tight hole—

And then, he's pressing a finger into you. "Oh—"

You're not even sure if your gasp is a reaction to Theo's movement or Mattheo's—all you know is that for a moment it all just combines into a whirlwind that seems to just drown all the oxygen out of your lungs completely—

"I know," Theo's breath is as laboured and rough as yours—the rumble of his words vibrating against your chest, your collarbone. "God, I know—"

"Jesus," another moan, strangled and needy, and it's not from you or Theo or even Enzo—it's from Mattheo. "Oh, this ass is tight—"

That's not something you're going to be able to get over—hearing that coming from him. "Oh fuck, Matt—"

"Mmm?" There's a smile in his voice—and you'd see it on his face if you were facing him, if all of his focus weren't so decidedly somewhere else. "You want me to fuck this perfect ass, don’t you?"

With that he pushes another finger into you while Theo wraps his arms around your waist to hold you steady to his chest. His hips cant up into you, and you swear you're on fire—Mattheo chuckles.

The sensation is so much you’re crying out again, his teasing turning infuriating. "You're a goddamn—ah—bastard—"

"Maybe so," he replies, with a smack to one of your asscheeks. "But a bastard that's going to—"

He stretches you out, pumping and scissoring slow, just as deliberate as everything else he does—and the moan you let out is enough to drown out whatever witty, dirty words you're sure he was going to follow that with—

"Fuck—fuck," the word is all you can manage as you brace your hands against Theo's shoulders, nails digging into his skin— "oh, fuck—"

Mattheo groans against your back and you swear it's intentional because he has to know what all of this is doing to you—what it's doing to Theo by association.

"Fuck, she likes that—" Theo's gasp hits you like a punch in the gut. "I should have—"

It's like there's a whole sentence, some snarky, perfectly articulate statement he had in mind, but whatever words it was comprised of are lost in the way he shivers—in the way his hips jerk more erratically due to how tight you're squeezing him—due to the way your walls spasm as Mattheos fingers keep pumping, stretching—

"Should have what?" It's a miracle you manage the words, and you're feeling particularly proud about the way it's more of a challenge than a question, even if it's half mumbled.

Whatever it is, he can't say it, and whatever retort you had for that is interrupted by the sound of a grunt—Enzo. His face is screwed up in pleasure, his breath is coming in ragged, uneven pants and there's a look in his eyes that looks distinctly broken.

Mattheo groans and pulls his fingers free. You feel the tip of his dick replacing them. "Can’t fucking wait any longer."

Enzo's eyes meet yours, then, and they're absolutely wrecked. "I'm going to—"

Pansy grins and moans out her reply. "Yeah, you are."

There's little else you can say—not that you'd have the words even if you weren't as lost as the rest of them. You just have a flash of thought about how you've never seen Enzo look like that before, open and vulnerable and completely at the mercy of whatever bliss he's riding right now, but then there's another feral moan escaping your lips—

"Oh, Gods, Mattheo!—"

Theo groans into your neck as Mattheo presses in and it takes merely two seconds before your eyes roll back—the way he sinks into your ass is a level of fullness you weren't sure you could reach, and even that's a thought that's too complex for you to process as your head drops, forehead pressed to Theo's shoulder.

There's a hiss from his lips, another muttered curse that you half catch as he bites at your collarbone, his hands moving back to squeeze your hips—

"Fuck, yes," Mattheo's voice sounds more strained than you've ever heard it. "Jesus Christ, that feels good—"

"Don't think the saviour would like you taking his name in vain," Blaise says, from somewhere in the room. "Not in this scenario at least."

No, he wouldn't, you think, but there's no way you've got the wherewithal to speak now—any focus you had is lost now that you're impaled on not one, but two cocks and it's like your entire nervous system's been turned over to the sensation of being so fucking full, so surrounded—of not being able to do anything except try to remember how to breathe.

It's not working very well.

"Mm," Theo's moans, fucking up into you nice and slow. "I think he'd understand."

"I think that's a rather blasphemous stance to take," Blaise replies. "Then again, given the scenario, perhaps that's not the most shocking revelation I've had of you all today."

"Blaise," Enzo groans, his tone somewhere between pleading and demanding. "Are you really going to try and have a conversation right now?"

"Just making an observation," Blaise says casually, and you swear that part of your brain that still functions can see the smirk plastered on his face in your mind. "Merely commenting about the depravity on display."

"Your commentary is duly noted," Mattheo breathes, his words punctuated by a low moan as he smacks your ass. "And dismissed."

There's a grumble of agreement through the room at that, including one from you, but all your words come out as a gasp—

Theo loves you like this. You can tell he's fucking savouring it. "That's it, bella. You don't need to do more than that."

Part of you wants to protest the statement, wants to argue that you have it in you to contribute more, but no matter how hard you try—and you do try—all that comes out around the moans is an inarticulate mess.

"Yeah, that's it," Mattheo groans, and you'd be embarrassed about how utterly ruined by all of this you are if you could focus on anything other than the two dicks pumping you in rhythm. "Just let me and Nott take care of your—mmf—tight fuckin' holes."

There's a whine that worms its way out of your chest and through your lips at that, and you don't know what it's begging for—just that it's begging, and all your mind cares about right now is that Theo and Mattheo understand that.

Theo's response is a moan of his own and a hand finding the back of your neck, his fingers wrapping around your hair. "So fucking wet—tight—"

"And taking us so goddamn well," Mattheo adds as one of his hands grab your ass again, spreading you open. "Fucking hell—I'm so close—"

"So are we," Theo responds for you, and the words are harsh and desperate and make your whole body shudder. "So—ah—so are we—"

The realization that he can feel how close you are makes you clench—walls fluttering around the both of them as they fuck you tempered—it’s only a few more seconds before you're seeing stars so bright you hardly register the sounds of Enzo and Pansy reaching their climaxes next to you—the feeling of Pansy crashing her lips to yours as she cums and moans into your mouth propelling you further over the edge, into your own ecstasy—

And if there were a way to describe it, you're sure you'd think of it later, but right now it's all just fire and lightning—pleasure wracking your body until you're certain you're not going to come down for hours. You can't really hear anything—just the rushing of your own blood pulsing in your ears—but as it starts to subside, your vision returns and the sound follows—your lips still pressed to Pansy's as Theo moans underneath you, spilling his release into your cunt while Mattheo is still thrusting slow—

"Oh my god," you gasp as you break the kiss, all of you breathing so hard you're sure it's going to take a while for the oxygen levels in the room to return to normal. "Oh my god, oh my god—"

"Mmm," is about all Theo seems to be capable of currently.

It’s a rare thing for him to be rendered speechless—and you'd grin at the knowledge if it weren't for Mattheo still thrusting deep in your ass—leaving Theo trapped inside your cunt, his length still twitching and throbbing within your walls.

"Still with us, princess?" Mattheo's chuckle is somewhat strangled, and the hand he's not gripping your ass with finds your hair again, tugging your head back to expose your neck. "You aren't done already, are you?"

If he expects—or even wants—an actual answer to that question, he's going to be very disappointed because all you can manage is a strangled half-moan that's a decent representation to how you're feeling right now—

"I think she's lost her words," Mattheo murmurs—and then it's like he realizes something. "Maybe we should test that."

"Wha—"

It's not a proper word, but you don't even have the chance to fully get it out before his hand in your hair is pulling your head back even further and you realize that at some point Pansy had gotten off of Enzo and he's now kneeling on the couch in front of you with his cum covered cock aimed directly at your lips—

"Clean me off."

It's another demand you'd probably be inclined to respond to with a snarky reply if you were at all confident in your ability to do anything other than open your mouth and let him press the tip to your tongue—

"Good girl," Enzo says, and the praise is delivered with that voice that sounds like it came from some dark place inside him, the one that's only ever really appeared in the privacy of these walls and with this group of people. "Taste your bestfriend on me, hm? You like that?"

It's a question you'd probably deny a few months ago, but that's not the case anymore—and you know that the answer would be obvious regardless, given how you've just proven you're more than happy to share them with her. So instead you give an answer that's a better representation of how you feel without having to admit it, and it only comes out as a hum of agreement as you taste her.

"I know you do," Enzo replies, and he's got that same smirk he usually has when he's got the upper hand, the one that usually makes you feel at least mildly put out—now it just makes you shiver. "Little slut."

Theo, who's still trapped underneath you and still half hard inside you, moans at that.

"Mmmm-" yes, you want to say, but you can't and the noise you manage instead, around the taste of your bestfriend on your tongue, comes out more like a whimper that has absolutely no business doing as much to you as it does.

Mattheo growls with a deep thrust into your ass, and the whimper turns into a whine as Pansy moves closer to you.

"You look pretty," she murmurs, her mouth pressed against your hair as Enzo pushes his dick deeper down your throat. "You look so fucking pretty right now."

There's something about that, the way her voice caresses the words, that makes something warm rush through you, wrapping around the bliss and squeezing until you're almost overwhelmed again.

Your eyes water, as you gag. "Mmgh—"

"Mhmm," her lips move down your cheek, next to your mouth where Enzo is still slowly fucking it, and it's like the action is deliberate—a way to show, without saying it outright, just how wrecked you are. "And you say I'm insatiable."

That's fair, because right now you're fairly certain you've never wanted something to continue forever quite as much as you do this, regardless of the fact that you know it's not practical.

"Ah, fuck—" Mattheo grunts with a messy thrust. “Oh, fuck—"

He's not the most loquacious person in the world but even he is having a hard time getting words out—and you're not much better, with the only sounds you're capable of making completely indecipherable even for you, let alone the rest of the room.

"Fuck—" with a final curse, he spills his release deep into your ass and Theo groans from under you as you clench as a result. "—yes."

The feeling of him twitching and spilling inside you makes you moan around Enzo, and he groans too—one hand tangled in your hair and the other tangled in Pansy's to keep her close—

"Mm, yes," Enzo moans now, jerking his hips toward your face. "Feels good—so good—“

—and close is an apt word because they're all close to you, all surrounding you—even Blaise and Draco's exhausted presence are felt in the background.

"I'm pretty sure she's gonna be sore for days after this," Pansy says, the words whispered. "I hope you all know—"

"I think she'll be thanking us for that," Theo replies before anyone else can. "In a day or two at least."

Pansy giggles, a sound that's soft and familiar and comforting even in this current state of being surrounded and overwhelmed, and her cheek brushes up against yours as the two of you peer up at Enzo—

"You're probably right." She whispers.

Enzo grunts, pulling his cock from your mouth and offering it to Pansy who greedily takes it in her own—

"Selfless generosity," Theo murmurs from directly under your chin having just witnessed that, and his tone suggests he's got his signature smirk in place. "How noble of us."

"Very selfless," Blaise says, from somewhere in the room again—and even as you're lost in pleasure you know that statement borders on sarcastic. "Absolutely nothing in it for any of you."

"Nothing at all," Theo replies, the same amount of sarcasm in his voice as Blaise's. "It's all self-sacrifice."

"Mm," Mattheo murmurs against your shoulder, before he pushes himself off you and finally pulls out. "Not even a shred of personal satisfaction."

You're still collapsed on top of Theo, as boneless as a human being can be, and a quiet whine escapes your lips at the loss before you can stop it.

"See," Theo murmurs, a hand coming up to run through your hair. "We've practically made a martyr of ourselves here. Selflessness at its finest."

"So humble," Blaise says, and you swear you hear the eyeroll that's almost certainly included. "I think this calls for medals and a parade through the streets. A holiday, maybe. Selfless Slytherin Day."

Enzo huffs—you can tell he's considering telling Blaise to shut up before he ruins his orgasm but as Pansy drags her tongue along the underside of his shaft, he seems to forget about it—

"Absolutely," Mattheo says—and if you had the strength to lift your head and look at him there'd likely be a smug smirk on his face. "I'd volunteer to be parade marshall, personally."

Enzo pulls out of Pansy's mouth with a gasp—and it's all but two seconds before he sprays sticky jets of cum all over your face and hers, his head tipping back as he does—

"I'm sure you would," Blaise says dryly, his voice coming from closer now than before. "I'm sure you would also volunteer to accept the medal, and then offer a speech about how humble you are."

"Mhm,” Mattheo sounds unbothered. You know he is. "Obviously. Someone's got to make sure the truth is told."

Pansy giggles against your face, then, before her tongue drags across your cheek, collecting some of Enzo's release. "Well, it's no good if you all are going to keep doing a poor job at the selflessness part.”

"I think we're well past the point of pretending we're doing this selflessly," Theo mutters dryly as he presses a kiss to your shoulder. "If we were capable of that level of pretending, we'd all be in Ravenclaw."

Your hands find Pansy's hair, holding her close to you as you lick Enzo's cum off her chin and jaw.

"You're welcome to switch houses if you'd like," Blaise responds dryly. "Some of us were sorted to our houses for reasons other than self-satisfaction—"

"Oh, shove it, Zabini," Enzo says as his breath comes back. "You're acting like a bloody dad."

Blaise opens his mouth, presumably to offer some kind of sharp retort, but before they have a chance, Pansy cuts in. "If you're all quite finished with the pissing contest—“

"We've been done for minutes," Theo replies quickly, hand now stroking through your hair. "Now we're just bickering for the sake of it, as usual."

"Which means we've got at least another half an hour to go," Blaise mutters—before apparently giving up all attempt at sounding cool and collected and flopping down on the nearest open section of sofa.

"At least," Mattheo agrees. "Maybe an hour, if we're lucky."

Next to you, Enzo grunts out a laugh as he starts trying to fix himself back to modesty. "Lucky is one word for it—"

"I think lucky is an excellent term for the current state of things," Theo replies, his voice all smooth and silky and perfectly at fucking ease. "In fact, I'd be hard pressed to think of anything more lucky than getting to experience this."

Everyone is in agreement, at that.

[samantitaswrld]

seventy-six percent

description: your boyfriend hasn’t fucked you in weeks and you’re tired of it, your best friend fred helps you get laid!

paring: theodore nott x fem! reader fred weasley x reader platonic!

contains: smut! 18+, minors dni, mentions of alcohol, sex, p in v

w.c: 1.1k

|an: came up w this idea last night and i luv luv luv it! hope u guys do too.

“cmon, fred, please? it’s been weeks. i’d do it for you, you know?" you’d said to your best friend, fred weasley, during lunch. it has been weeks since your boyfriend last fucked you. you don’t know why or what’s gone wrong. but you were convinced it was some sick game he was playing. he wouldn’t encourage your sexual behaviors, nor initiate anything, and you were fed up.

although, now that you really think about it, it might’ve been your fault, considering the last pillow talk session you and theo had, you told him jokingly that you’d probably last longer than him without sex.

you lied.

you’re growing desperate. you tried to ease the ache in your lower stomach by attempting to please yourself, but it’s not the same; it’s not him. you can’t put up.

“you’re absolutely nuts if you think i’m going to purposefully make theodore nott jealous. do you want me dead? is that what this is?!” fred exclaimed with a hand over his heart, feigning hurt. “you think you know a gal,” he tutted, shaking his head.

you’d pressed your lips into a thin line, reaching into your head to find something that would make fred fold. “i’ll do your homework for a week? two? brew the potions for yours and george’s pranks? "c'mon freddie, be reasonable here.” you’d said with a pout.

“how about covering the cost of my funeral?” he’d deadpanned with a slight smirk. ugh, you’d thought. i guess i’ll have to…

“fine! i’ll do yours and george’s homework for a month so you can work on products. and make sure theo doesn’t do anything rash.” you exclaimed, god, your social life is going to be over, but at least you’ll finally get some dick.

fred’s lips tugged into a wicked grin. "sounds absolutely perfect. see you tonight. pleasure doing business with you, by the way!” he yelled out to you, already walking away, to go grab george and tell him the great news.

you’d sighed, hands holding your head from faceplanting into the hardwood table. it’ll be worth it, you told yourself.

this might, hands down. be the best you’ve ever looked in your life. your low-rise jean mini skirt hugged your hips and thighs perfectly. black long sleeve fitted crop top outlining your breasts and showing just the right amount of stomach, and black knee-high boots covering your calves. you looked to die for.

you do have to admit that you are a little nervous, though. fred and theo are both very unpredictable people. you had just hoped that fred wouldn’t cross the line too much and that theo would do nothing more than drag you up to his dorm and fuck you. considering this is a slytherin party, your chances of this outcome were maybe seventy-six percent?, which is good enough for you!

after overthinking and shuffling through every possible outcome, you finally stepped out of your dorm to meet fred in the common room so you could make your way to the slytherin common room together.

fred took a bow, as if you were queen lizzie herself, and offered you a hand to lead you down the last two steps of the staircase.

“madam?” he’d said in a posh voice, causing you to let out a laugh and take his hand to walk down the last of the steps. as you reached the bottom, he dropped the act and let out a laugh.

“no, but really. you do look good. i’d say there’s a great probability you’re getting laid tonight, with my help especially.” he’d said playfully and nudged you as you both exited the common room together.

“a girl can hope!” you’d whispered, now sneaking around the hallways with him to reach the slytherin common room.

“this is ridiculous!” you whisper-yelled into fred’s ear over the loud music blaring over the common room. you both hadn’t seen theo once tonight, and you and fred have been all over each other all night. getting close, whispering in each other's ears, taking shots together, even dancing together—nothing. the party was now coming to a close, and you still haven’t seen theo.

“i know, you’d think he’d show his face by now, or kick my ass or something" fred responded with his hand placed on the small of your back to get you as close as possible to him, so he could hear you better, of course.

theo had seen everything. he leaned against the wall in front of you covered by dancing bodies. he was alone, smoking cigarette after cigarette, his hand practically crushing the cup full of alcohol he’d had since the party began. he had a sick feeling in his stomach; he couldn’t even try to take a sip of his alcohol; afraid it would give him the courage to stomp over there and beat fred weasley’s ass. he saw everything. the touches, whispers, and dancing. all of it, and now he stood over you, hand on your back, bodies pressed together, whispering into each other's ears over the loud music? that’s enough.

theo stomped his cigarette out, slammed his cup on a nearby table, and made his way over to you and fred.

“you’re coming with me,” he’d said under his breath, grabbing your arm and whisking you away from your friend. shocked, you’d said, and did nothing but let him take you upstairs. you hadn’t even gotten the chance to tell fred bye, but oh well. he’ll be just fine. he did his duty, and you’ll have to do yours too. at least it was a mission accomplished.

“fuck, theo.” you pleaded and moaned against his neck as he pounded into you at a rapid and unforgiving pace, the both of you slick with sweat as you'd been at it for hours.

“you like that? or would you rather have fred’s cock pounding into you like this? huh?” theo growled out as he pulled out, awaiting your response.

“no— no no theo baby please. just you, only you.” you’d babble, hating the feeling of emptiness he’d left you with.

theo plunged his cock back into your wet cunt, continuing his harsh pace and letting out a breathy laugh. “that’s what i thought.”

all you could manage to do was moan and tighten your grip on his shoulders as you both neared your climaxes.

you could feel your brain go absolutely numb as his pace never faltered. you’d managed to breathe out a "theo... im gonna—“

“cum, on my cock, baby.” theo said between thrusts, his own release about to reach a close as his hips began to stutter.

“theo!” you’d screamed out as the tightness in your stomach snapped. the yell of his name that escaped your lips, pushing him over the edge as well.

god, now i have double the homework for a month. was your first post-orgasm thought..worth it. was your last as you drifted off to sleep in theos arms.

[motherearthlovesus]

road head - theo nott

content warning: 18+, exhibitionism, praise/degradation, oral (m receiving), semi-public, hair pulling, face fucking, head pushing, gagging, swallowing

"everyone is asleep" theo pleads, one hand on the wheel with the other on your thigh. "plus im getting a bit sleepy, maybe this will help me stay awake"

"theo i really don't see how giving you road head is any safer than falling asleep at the wheel" you retort.

with the windows down the sharp breeze sliced through the warm thick air characteristic of a car baking in the sun all day. your hair occasionally whipping in your face as your arm hangs over the side of the nott family mercedes benz.

you turn around, double-checking that enzo, blaise, draco and pansy were all still soundly asleep. after such a long day at the beach you were surprised you weren't sleepier.

"aww, how precious" you grab your phone to snap a picture of enzo and blaise asleep with their heads resting against each other's, their mouths agape. a photo you were sure would provide valuable blackmail in the future. pansy's sleeping head was resting gracefully upon dracos shoulder which was somehow rigid even when asleep - the antithesis to blaise and enzo.

so that theo didn't have to take his eyes off the road, you show him the photo. he let out a small chuckle but you could tell his mind was elsewhere.

"earth to theo, earth to theo" you drawl as you wave a hand in front of his face.

"sorry baby" he replies blinking "i was thinking about the faces you make when my face is buried in your pussy."

blushing, you shift to face him - you can't help but press your thighs together as you do so. with your back now pressing against the window, you keep one leg on the floor and stretch the other across to his lap. as your foot grazes his cock, your stomach flutters at the hard girth of it.

"someone's changed their mind, have they?" theo gloats with that cocky grin that has made your panties drop so many times before.

"well it is rather boring with everyone asleep back there" you crooned continuing to caress his cock with your foot.

"boring am i?" theo said, feigning insult.

"oh shush" you huffed rolling your eyes, the redness in your cheeks betraying your cool demeanour. "do you want me to suck or cock or not?"

"hold the wheel bambina" theo answered almost immediately.

you didn't have time to protest as he let go of the wheel to pull his shorts down to his knees freeing his massive, throbbing erection.

"you're insane, you know that?" you scoff, as he regains control of the steering wheel.

"you love it" theo purrs as you look into the back seat to check one last time. theo's ability to tease you had always been your undoing, and this moment was no exception.

you bend forward, your lips brushing over the tip of his cock in the lightest of kisses while you start to slowly stroke the length of his cock. he lets out a low groan of pleasure, his hips twitching slightly as you start to suck his cock with enthusiasm.

"cazzo" theo hisses, gripping the steering wheel tighter as he fights the urge to grab your head and force you down, to bury himself deep in your warm, inviting mouth until he hits the back of your throat.

"shh - eyes on the road," you whisper, glancing up at him with a wicked smile. drawing as much saliva into your mouth as you can, you take him further into your mouth, the car's engine purring steadily beneath you, blending with the rustling breeze from the open windows.

"you look so fucking hot with your lips stretched around me, baby"

theo's eyes snap back to the road, his jaw clenching tight. but your tantalising smile and the sensation of you taking him deeper, engulfing more of his aching length in the wet heat of your mouth, makes it nearly impossible for him to concentrate on anything but the pleasure radiating from his cock.

"that's it, puttana," he mutters, his voice sounding strained. "so fucking good."

the praise gives you a rush of satisfaction, encouraging you to hollow your cheeks and swirl your tongue along his length. unable to restrain himself, theo grips your hair tightly, holding you in place as he starts to grind his hips up into your face, forcing his throbbing cock deeper down your spasming throat. your eyes water and you gag silently, but he doesn't stop. if anything, your choking and sputtering only spurs him on.

he starts to pick up speed, fucking your face with quick, sharp thrusts. “merlin,” he hisses through clenched teeth, glancing briefly down at you before his gaze snaps back to the road. theo's cock throbs and pulses in your tight throat, swelling even larger before his release. "don't spill a fucking drop. drink down every bit of my cum like a good slut."

theo pushes your head down and holds it there, grinding his pelvis hard against your face as he explodes in your throat. his cock jerks and twitches, pumping thick, warm spurts of cum directly down your throat.

"that's my girl" theo said with a shudder, his hand gripping your hair tightly as he rode out his climax.

you swallowed every bit, savouring the salty tang and the satisfaction of seeing theo completely undone. as you pull back, you wipe the corner of your mouth with a smug smile, your eyes meeting his.

“still sleepy?” you tease, your voice light and playful.

theo’s laugh was hoarse, his eyes dark with lingering hunger as he reached over to squeeze your thigh. “not even close, bambina. but just wait until we get home. you’re not walking straight tomorrow.”

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

would that be unrealistically loud & wake everyone up? yes. do i care? no.

im back?? i didnt plan on taking a hiatus but the new year period was just so draining i couldn't even put 3 words together.

i missed you all so much 😽 and as always comments & reblogs are greatly appreciated 🤍

[riddleauthor]

⯌ That's SO Mattheo, Tom and Theodore!!

Masterlist Slytherin Boys

[talesofadragon]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐔𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞

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

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

Pairing: Theodore Nott x Non-Slytherin!Reader

Genre: Angst | Hurt/Comfort

Word count: 5.8K

All Masterlists | Theodore Nott Masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Muggleborns, it's best not to get started.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Miss Y/L/N!” 

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

“Yes?” Y/N wonders aloud.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is that so?” Alecto challenges. 

“Yes.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Dragon heartstring.” 

“Fitting for a spitfire like you.” 

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

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

“Larch.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re sick!” 

“And you’re delicious.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Cruc—”

“Oh, so now you want to cast it!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Scene End

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Draco, who’s that you’re carrying?” 

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

“What the hell happened to her?” 

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

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

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

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

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

“What do we do?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Theo…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know.”

“I couldn’t do it.”

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

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

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

“I’ve failed you.”

“You haven’t.”

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

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

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

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

“What did you do to Amycus?”

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

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

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

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

“And why didn’t you?”

“Draco called for Snape.”

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

“Are you in trouble?”

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

“Good,” Y/N replies.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And I will live after it. With you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

All-Fandom Taglist: @xxrougefangxx

[ashisgreedy]

Theo Nott x F!Reader "Revved"

Modern AU Biker!Theo

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

A|N: At the end

WC: 3272

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No traffic.” Theo returns the look.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He lifted his brows with a smirk.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He hummed and a small smile tugged at his lips.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh! Yes, please!”

“Gods,” He murmured

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do NOT do that thing again!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

.

.

.

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

Thank you for reading!

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

[soulofapatrick]

I See You - Theodore Nott x Reader

Summary: Theodore steps in when Draco corners you Words: 1.8k Warnings: fluff really Notes: I blanked while writing this as I've had Theodore Nott brainrot recently so don't mind me if I post a few Theodore stories

Y/N’s POV

Today was meant to be a peaceful day with Harry still at Hogwarts with Remus and Ron and Hermione off giggling like a lovesick couple. Hogsmead is ever so pretty covered in a blanket of snow and the bustles of students here to have fun and buy each other last minute Christmas gifts. But, of course, I can’t have anything nice as I round the corner from where I left Ron and Hermione in The Three Broomsticks I bump into a familiar blond. 

The sneer ever present on Draco’s face as he shoves me away from him, causing me to stumble and before I know it I’m on my ass in the not so pretty snow. I just shake my head, pushing myself up from the snowy ground, brushing the cold flakes clinging to my jeans. Draco’s mocking laughter fills the air, eyes narrow with distain as he looks down at me like I’m dirt under his shoe.

“Well, well, if it isn’t the Weasley girl,” He sneers, tone dropping with derision, “As expected, stumbling through life like your family stumbles through poverty.” 

I take a deep breath, refusing to let Draco’s words bring me down, his little jabs always hurting but I’m never gonna let him see it so instead I meet his gaze with a defiant glare, sneering back, “Does your mother always look at you like she’s stepped in shit?” 

A flicker of something flashes across his face, but before I can decipher it he quickly regains his composure, “Watch your tongue, Weasley. You may think you're clever, but you'll always be just another insignificant blood traitor," he spits. 

I stand my ground, refusing to back down. "Oh, Draco, I would rather be a blood traitor than a heartless coward who hides behind his family name and pure-blood arrogance," I shoot back, my voice filled with determination. "At least I know the value of true friendship and the strength that comes from standing up for what's right. Something you'll never understand.” 

It all sounds so cliche and stupid but the surrounding students watching the exchange have mixed expressions, some wearing smirks of satisfaction at my words while others hold their breath, waiting to see how Draco will respond. But before he can retort, a tall figure steps forward, silently wedging himself between Draco and me. It's Theodore Nott, his typically enigmatic expression softened with a touch of resolve. Without saying a word, he calmly places a hand on Draco's shoulder and pushes him away, creating a safe space for me to stand. However, he may have pushed a little too hard as Draco stumbles backwards, momentarily taken aback by one his best friends apposing him let alone standing up to him. 

Draco is tall but Theodore stands taller, an undeniable air of quiet confidence surrounding him. His raven black hair, somehow perfect tousled, frames his striking features, drawing attention to his piercing blue eyes that hold a depth of mysteries. There’s an intriguing allure about him, an enigma that seems to follow his every move. 

With a subtle gesture, Theodore motions for Draco to dare take another step closer, the weight of his actions speaking volumes. The surrounding students, captivated by the unfolding scene, exchange whispers and glances filled with admiration and surprise. 

Draco, shaken by the unexpected opposition from one of his closest friends, regains his composure. His pride wounded, he attempts to mask his disbelief with a haughty glare. However, the cracks in his facade are evident. It's a rare sight to witness someone challenge Draco, and the students relish in the spectacle, some fighting back grins of satisfaction and with one final sneer Draco turns on his heels and struts away. 

There’s a flicker of concern behind Theodore’s piercing blue eyes as they shift their focus to me, a genuine care that sets my heart at ease. With a gentle smile, he takes a step closer, his voice resonating with a warmth that catches me off guard. 

“Are you alright?” Theodore’s voice, smooth and velvety, reaches my ears like a soothing melody. I think it’s the first time I’ve truly heard him speak, and there’s a captivating timbre to his words - a perfect harmony of confidence and tenderness. I find myself momentarily entranced by his presence, the way he effortlessly brushes a bit of snow out of my hair, his touch sending a gentle shiver down my spine. 

With a grateful smile, I reply, “Thank you Teddy, let me buy you a drink to make up?” The air around us seems to hold a certain electricity, a shared moment that lingers in the wintry atmosphere.

Theodore’s eyes widen slightly and I’m not sure if it’s at my offer or the fact I called him ‘Teddy’ without thinking about it, but either way, surprise mingles with the lingering warmth in his gaze. A hint of a smile plays at the corners of his lips as he considers my proposition and after a moment of silent contemplation he’s nodding and accepting my invitation. 

“Teddy?” He asks quietly, almost shyly, as we turn back and head towards The Three Broomsticks, the thoughts of Butterbeer already warming the chill working its way into my bones. A soft blush creeps up my cheeks as I meet his gaze, finding comfort int he genuine warmth radiating from him. 

“Yes, Teddy,” I respond with a gentle nod, a smile tugging at the corners of my lips, “If that’s okay with you? It feels right.” The admission carries a sense of vulnerability, as if I’m opening a door to something new, embracing the familiarity that seems to have effortlessly blossomed between us. 

A genuine smile spreads across Theodore’s face, eyes crinkling at the corners as he mumbles, “I like it.” There’s a softness in his expression as he speaks, a subtle shift in demeanour that draws me closer both physically and emotionally. I’m bumping shoulders with him lightly as he pushes open the door to The Three Broomsticks for me. 

The air is thick with the aroma of freshly brewed Butterbeer, mingling with the comforting scent of wood and fireplaces. The low ceiling is adorned with an array of floating lanterns, casting a soft, golden glow that dances upon the polished wooden floors. The walls are adorned with aging tapestries and moving portraits that I still can’t get used to, having been introduced to the magical world when the Weasley’s adopted me just after my 9th birthday. 

The tavern is filled with a harmonious blend of laughter and chatter, the clinking of glasses and the occasional burst of magical fireworks, probably from some new toy Fred and George have created, punctuating the joyful atmosphere. The patrons, a mix of Hogwarts students and locals, gather in small groups at the wooden tables, engaged in animated conversations or enjoying a game of Wizarding chess. 

Madam Rosmerta moves with grace behind the bar, effortlessly serving Butterbeer and other magical drinks. Her warm smile and friendly banter create an inviting atmosphere, making everyone feel right at home. 

We make our way to the small table indicated by Madam Rosmerta, and as we settle down, Theodore takes the seat beside me. His presence is comforting, his arm casually draped over the back of my chair. It's a subtle gesture, yet it carries an intimacy that sends a thrill of anticipation coursing through my veins. As he lean in closer to hear me other over the lively ambiance of the pub, Theodore's head ducks down, his voice a soft murmur that tickles my ear. The proximity between us feels both exhilarating and comforting, like a secret shared between kindred spirits. In the midst of the bustling crowd, we create our own little world, cocooned in the warmth of our connection. The laughter and conversations of the other patrons blend into the background, fading away as our focus rests solely on each other. 

“You’re so beautiful.” The pads of his fingers brush lightly over my jaw, sending my face aflame as it’s something so unexpected and something so right. His voice is deep and full of genuinely which isn’t expected from Slytherins. Before either of us can say or do anything else Madam Rosmerta approaches with our drinks, a tray of steaming Butterbeer and a mischievous twinkle in her eye, Theodore’s hand moving away from me, his touch fleeting, but it sends a jolt of electricity through my fingertips, leaving me craving more. With a grateful smile, we accept our drinks, the frothy liquid adding a touch of sweetness to the atmosphere. The taste of the warm Butterbeer dances on my tongue, mirroring the warmth that spreads within me whenever Theodore's eyes meet mine. 

With Madam Rosmerta’s retreating figure a sense of anticipation lingers in the air. I feel Theodore’s gaze intensify, his eyes fixed on mine with a mixture of tenderness and desire. Without a word, he captures my jaw between his thumb and forefinger, guiding me gently toward him. 

Time seeming to stand still as our lips meet in a surprising yet delicate kiss. The world around us fading away, leaving only the soft press of his lips against mine, the warmth of his breath mingling with mine. It’s a kiss filled with unspoken promises and raw vulnerability. It has me melting into his strong presence, my body instinctively leaning closer. His touch both electrifying and gentle, as if he’s holding me with the utmost care. The taste of butterbeer lingering on his tongue adds to the intensity of the kiss, drawing an embarrassing sound from me. 

As the kiss comes to an end, both of us breathless and wide-eyes, a hint of surprise flickers across Theodore’s features. He stammers, voice laced with a touch of flustered apology, “I’m sorry, I… I didn’t mean to…” 

But, before he can finish his sentence, I’m silencing him with another kiss, my lips pressing against his with a mixture of urgency and tenderness. It’s my way of telling him that he doesn’t need to apologise, a soft sigh escaping me when he brings a hand up to cup my jaw as the kiss ends just as sweetly. I’m whispering softly, voice a blend of relief and affection, “I’m glad you like me Teddy. I’m surprised you even see me.” 

“Oh sweetheart,” His vice is low, eyes searching mine, a myriad of emotions swirling within them, thumb caressing my cheek as he leans closer, lips barely brushing mine and he murmurs four words that leave me speechless: 

“I’ve always seen you.” 

-----------

Harry Potter Universe Masterlist

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[bunnies-p1tst0p]

no words.. the pic speaks enough!

SIXTEEN. drugging — stalker!theo

warnings — smut 18+. noncon. drugging. reader is passed out. male masturbation. ejaculating on an unaware/unconscious person. theo being very creepy. modern au (phones). you are responsible for your own media consumption.

kinkmas mlist. moodboard. more.

“i’m just… going to lie down for— for a bit…” were the last words to escape your mouth as you collapsed onto your soft bed and slowly lost consciousness, much to theo’s satisfaction. he reassured with a soothing tone, telling you it was okay to rest a bit if you needed to and that he could find his way out, as he watched your pretty eyes grow heavy and your body go limp.

theo didn’t have any bad intentions, though— he only wanted to snoop around a little, to freely explore your room without any rush or worry. so he sneakily slipped something in your drink, just enough to help you sleep. but you— you were lying there so peacefully, so breathtakingly still, lightly snoring with your tousled hair falling across your face. he found himself unable to shift his attention away from you.

he tried to fight against it, to just let you be while he took advantage of the freedom to explore your room, but of course, he couldn’t. he should’ve known that beforehand though, that he couldn’t ever resist you, even now, as you lay unconscious on your bed, not moving an inch except for your chest that’s steadily heaving up and down.

so before he realises it, as though losing control of his own actions, he hastily unbuckles his pants and slips his hands into his boxers, rubbing over his stiffened erection, a relieved sigh escaping him. unable to hold back, he frees his leaking cock from his tight boxers, the tip pink, swollen and slick with precum.

oh, how can someone be this beautiful, theo thinks to himself while watching you with full admiration, a sparkle visible in his darkened eyes every time they linger on you. his gaze roams over every inch of you—from your soft hair, down to your bare feet—as he strokes himself with a frantic urgency. every single part of you, he loves. every single part of you, he worships. every single part of you, is his. even if you don’t know it yet.

it only takes a few minutes—two, to be exact, and that’s him trying his best to savour to moment and last long as long as he can—before thick ropes of cum uncontrollably shoot from the head of his cock. and well, fuck. he didn’t necessarily plan to cum all over you and make such a mess, but is it the prettiest, most breathtaking sight he has ever seen? oh, absolutely.

from your face, all the way down to your legs, you are covered in streaks of cum, but still entirely unaware, as you peacefully snore, fully relaxed on the soft bed. theo immediately grabs his phone from his pocket after putting his pants back on— there is no way in hell that he’s leaving without snapping some pictures of the most beautiful sight he’s ever seen. useful for later.

he quickly tries to clean you up, wiping away all his traces and pulling the covers over your slumbering body. he stares at you for a moment, his facial expressions softening, before he slowly draws closer and gives you a gentle yet firm kiss on your forehead, making you hum softly in your deep sleep.

one day, theo thinks to himself. one day you will realise that you are all his.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

reminder: reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated and keep me motivated. ty! ♡

[sapphxire]

kind of just want Theodore Nott to demolish me lol

[mommynott]

Thin Ice

Theodore Nott x Reader

Summary: Your friends drag you to a hockey game, but halfway through you lock eyes with Theo. You can’t help but feel a strong pull toward him. Deciding to shoot your shot with the player.

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, SMUT, Chars 18+, Hockey AU, flirting, tons of tension, explicit language, hockey!theo, dom!theo

A/N: Starting this series for my babe @amiableness I hope you enjoy it because this is just the start! Also BIG shoutout to my girl @westcanaan82 for the hockey!theo render. Definitely go Check out her page because she makes me DROOOOL

The arena was packed, and the noise was overwhelming as you sat in your seat, begrudgingly dragged there by your friends. You were scrolling through your phone, totally uninterested in the game unfolding before you.

But then… it seemed out of nowhere. A tall and muscular figure on the ice caught your attention. Fuck he’s hot. It was player number 13, Theo, whose piercing eyes were fixed on you through his helmet.

You felt a smirk growing on your lips before he nodded his head up at you and skated along the ice. Shuffling a puck with his hockey stick with ease. The game going on. Fuck maybe this game isn’t too boring. You held your phone in your hand but your gaze settled on him on the ice. Suddenly gaining an interest in this sport.

After he shot a puck into the goal he pumped his fist in the air but you swore he looked over at you. Throwing you a flirty wink. And trust me, he fucking did. At this point, Theodore was trying to show off for you. Hoping he would get your attention. Craving your attention.

The game ended, and his team had won the match. But after all the eyefucking you two did you wanted to stay back in hopes to see that same player. “I’ll catch up with you guys later!” Your friends gave you a knowing look while they walked out. You slowly moved around the now quiet arena.

A few minutes later, you started to feel defeated, thinking he must’ve left but that’s when you heard a low and deep Italian accent. “I noticed you in the crowd…Seemed to be pretty glued to that phone of yours.”

Bright cherry red painted across your cheeks as you turned around. Quickly tucking your phone away in your purse, you gave the hockey player a small sheepish smile. “Uh…Yeah, sorry…It’s just not really my thing I guess.”

But when your gaze settled upon the player, he wasn’t in the same gear from on the ice. Oh no. he was now in a tight under-armor top, showing off his muscular and toned torso along with a pair of black sweatpants. Freshly out of the shower, his brown locks clung to his forehead. The smell of his body wash was rich and intoxicating as it wafted all around you. Fuck me.

“Not your thing, huh? What is your thing then?”

Theo asked, his taunting tone hinting with flirtatiousness. Feeling the way your heart skipped from his words. His deep voice. Fucking hell. You hesitated for a moment, your fingers anxiously playing with the rings you wore. “I don’t know…Reading…Movies.”

Replying to the Italian, he ran a hand through his wavy hair, slicking it back and giving you a charming smile. “A reader. Interesting….” Theodore said in the same teasing tone before sticking out his hand and you matched him, giving your own and shaking it. The second your hands met, a spark pulsated through your body.

“Nott. Theodore Nott. But you can call me Theo, Cara.”

The charming accent rolled off his tongue smoothly as you both exchanged names. You crossed your arms over your chest, shifting your weight to one leg. Bringing your confidence out. Something you always had. “Anyways…What’s interesting about me reading?” You asked, giving him a bratty little grin.

Theo cocked an eyebrow, scoffing under his breath as he took a step before you. Eyeing you up and down fully. “Ah, I’m not sure. Just interesting…What do you like to read?” He questioned as he casually leaned closer toward you.

You tried to focus but his voice, his words were so smooth it sent little shivers down your spine. "Umm… mostly romance— Stuff like that." You mentally chastised yourself for sounding so fucking cliche. He seemed very interested in you…Maybe even so much so that you could get some hockey player action.

Theo gave you a lazy smile and your heart fluttered, feeling the tension building between you both. "Romance, huh? That’s fitting." You raised an eyebrow, confused. What the fuck was he on about? “What do you mean?”

He shrugged, leaning even closer towards you. “You look like the romantic type….Soft…sweet— Y’know?.” Your cheeks burned again. Was he flirting with you? This couldn’t possibly be real. This was something out of the novels you’d read.

“Oh— Thanks I guess?” A sea of giggles freed from your lush lips. The same ones Theo’s eyes were burning into now. He stalked toward you as you walked back until you were pinned against the white brick wall of the ice rink.

He carefully took a strand of your hair, wrapping it around his pointer finger while his tongue poked the inside of his cheek. “Can I get the pretty girl's number, hm?” He asked, remaining not only charming but… cocky. Drawing you to him even more.

It seemed that your confidence exuded his own to creep out. But fuck did you like it. A confident man like this? Damn. “Huh…I’m not sure. Can you?” Teasing him right back you subtly bit your lower lip to fight back the giggles that wanted to escape from within.

“Fuckin’ tease. Isn’t that right?”

Theodore now pinned both of his hands above your head, practically towering over your tiny frame. “Perhaps just a little bit…” Breathing out your words, your gaze danced along with his ocean eyes. Feeling your heart thump hard against your chest.

“I like a tease…A challenge…” His tone now held something of mischief, giving him a different vibe. And fuck, your whole body was fucking feeling it. “Yeah?” You asked, bringing out more of your sultry tone, keeping your lips slightly parted as you glanced down to his own.

That was it. Theo was going to come in hot. Make his move. Smash his lips to yours. But just as he was millimeters away from ravishing you a loud shout was heard. “—Nott! Back in the locker room!” His fucking coach. What a cock block. Theo rolled his eyes and cursed in Italian under his breath.

“We aren’t finished here…” He replied to you lowly, throwing up his pointer finger to his coach. He reached into his pocket. Pulling out a pen and taking your arm. Feeling the tickle of his scribbling, He wrote something on it as you sat there dumbfounded.

Once he was done, you scanned over your forearm. In sloppy handwriting was written his number followed by “Text me, Tesoro ;)” giggling at his little winky face as you nodded your head.

With that, he walked off with his coach to the locker room. That night you got home thinking of everything and anything that could have happened if his damn trainer didn’t interrupt you two. That’s when you decided to send him a flirty yet risky text…

Ahhhh the start of hockey!theo 🏒🥅⛸️

Really hope y’all enjoyed im too excited to continue on with this au! ATP I have so many and STILL have some In the back of my mind help lol

As always asks and requests are open my sweet peas 💋

Divider pinned in my masterlist🌙

[iniquitousyearning]

SLYTHERINSLUT0’S KINKTOBER

october 1st. theodore — size kink, big dick.

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST | 2024.

summary: there’s a rumour going around that theodore nott has a big dick…..why not see it for yourself?

warnings: 18+, SMUT MDNI, hogwarts uni (obviously), big dick!theo, size difference, size kink ofc, fingering, PIV, dirty talk, slowish sex, put on your fantasy cap for this one bc it’s a little wild, also, anyone know any wheelchair providers?

How the hell did you end up here? How had a night meant for celebration, for laughter and drinks and the triumph of a Quidditch victory, lead to this—

Fevered kisses, teeth clashing—your breath catching in the dim, muted glow of Theodore Nott's dorm—spine pressed against his door as his lips attacked yours, moving to your neck with a hunger that had your knees weak. There was a party, still alive somewhere down the hall, warmth spilling into the corridors, the echo of cheers and laughter floating past—but it was all a distant memory now. All of it blurred, lost in the way Theo's hands roamed over your hips, tugging you closer like he was starved.

Oh, right—the rumours.

Rumours have always had a way of creeping into places they don't belong. A whisper here, a careless word there. Stupid little fires, barely a spark until someone fans the flames. You've seen it before—how a single rumour can grow, how it can warp a simple night into something bigger. Something chaotic.

And now, well, you're living it.

Curiosity was what pulled you into his orbit tonight, what sparked the embers that had been burning between you two for far too long. Because Pansy Parkinson—loud, exaggerative, and far-too-tipsy—couldn't resist spilling some gossip mid-party, something about Daphne, something about Theodore and nine goddamn inches.

You know, the usual Quidditch post-match talk.

And it should have been nothing. It should have got lost in all the other Slytherin boy ramblings but instead, it stuck. Gods, it fucking stuck. Pansy's little comment sparked the fire in you, a fire that led to a conversation over drinks, your hand grazing his, and before you knew it, you were leaning into Theodore Nott at the punch bowl, asking questions you had no blasted right asking, yet went ahead and did anyways.

Something about...well—

"You've heard, then," he'd replied, voice low as those blue eyes watched you over the rim of his glass.

It wasn't a question. It was a challenge. For all the audacity you had—Theodore had just as much.

"I have," you leaned closer, your voice almost teasing as you whispered against the curve of his ear. "Big rumours, Teddy...huge, even."

He tensed, just slightly, the kind of reaction you noticed only because you were watching him so closely. You're pretty sure he wasn't expecting something like that to come out of your mouth—and you couldn't blame him, because truthfully, you weren't expecting it either.

That was, what you'd like to call, the point of no return.

There was a response from him. Something cocky enough—something like; "and do you make a habit of believing everything you hear?"

"Not everything," you said with a shrug, though your heart was in your fucking throat. "But I'm open to proof."

There weren't very many words exchanged after that—maybe some slight teasing—maybe another brush of his hand—but Theo was never a man to waste time, and it was clear that whatever curiosity you held for him had bubbled up now—heady and bold—and created a mess between you that couldn’t be contained.

The party, the victory, the cheers—it all became static as his hand slipped around your waist, his lips at your ear in a whisper. "Then let's put these rumours to rest."

You barely had the chance to nod before Theodore moved—grabbing your wrist and moving you through the crowd like you were something to be expedited, the sea of students parting before him. Pansy spotted you leaving, her eyes gleaming as she threw you a wicked smile and a drunken thumbs-up. You rolled your eyes, smirking back, but everything else blurred into the background as Theodore led you out of the common room, and before you knew it, you were inside his dorm.

The door slammed shut behind you, the cold surface meeting your back before his lips found yours—urgent, consuming. His hands moved with purpose, sliding under your shirt, lifting it over your head before you even realized what was happening. His own shirt followed, discarded carelessly onto the floor as he pressed his body against yours.

The memory blurred as the urgency of the present took over. You gasped at the feel of him, his entirety—hard, aching, massive. The outline of him was impossible to ignore, the mere suggestion of what was to come already making your heart pound wildly in your chest.

The rumours had seemed absurd at first, but now...now, they felt terrifyingly real. He was huge.

"Tell me," he breathed, his voice a low rumble against your lips as his fingers worked deftly at removing your skirt. "About those rumours..."

Your head fell back against the door, exposing the line of your throat as his mouth moved lower, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. Whimpering, you caressed his shoulders, up his neck, finding his hair, fingers teasing the warm, hidden shell of his ears. At this, his back crested, and he moaned, pitching forward, hips working to fuse you with the door.

"I—I heard..." you tried to speak, but his mouth was on your neck, and the words tangled in your throat. "Gods—something about...nine inches..."

Theo hummed against your skin, the sound vibrating through you, sending blood pooling low. He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his lips hovering over yours, his breath hot and heavy as he wrapped his hands around your thighs and lifted you up—carrying you toward his bed.

"What else." He muttered against your mouth.

"Daphne..." you panted, barely able to think straight with the way he was touching you, the way he was looking at you. "She...she said she couldn't take it all..."

"And if I say that's true?" He rasped, laying you down onto his comforter. "What then?"

A shiver shook you from the base of your spine, and you curled your legs around him, core clenching hard—he sprawled over you, his body massive—engulfing yours, roving his hands up and down your bare thighs as his lips left wet, warm kisses across your breasts, teeth digging into the sheer fabric of your bra—you were gasping, whimpering under him, your chest rising and falling so rapidly you'd think you'd ran a marathon.

"Gods—that's...an odd question, Teddy..." your hips bucked, seeking his touch, and he grazed your pussy over your underwear, thumb ghosting your clit through the fabric. You squeaked, and he silenced you with his mouth, tugging at the fabric until he'd fit his thick fingers under the hem. "Are you...mm..asking if I can handle it?"

"Fucking soaked already," Theo peeled away, gasping, watching you as he slid a digit through your hot slit, his breath hitching. "Yes—I'm asking if you can handle it."

"Fuck—I don't—I don't know..." he dragged a slickened finger over your clit—you quivered, biting your lip until you found your words. "Only one way to find out."

"You're right," he breathed, swirling his finger, your body pulsing underneath him—every nerve within you roaring to life. "I'll be easy on you...I'll go slow..." his thumb took over, his middle and fourth finger teasing your entrance, lips hovering over your ear. "Let's stretch you out first."

"I—" you began, and he plunged into you. "—fuck."

Theo crooked his fingers in your cunt, eyes focused on your flushing face, the flow of your moans, his breath shallow as you clenched and pulsed around him. His thumb traced rapid little lines around your swollen clit, two long fingers filling you full. He wet his lips, pressing his mouth to yours in a brief kiss as he snapped his wrist, curling and scissoring inside of you. His hips rocked with his rhythm, and you caught sight of his erection straining against his jeans—

"Tight little thing," he growled, head dipping low as he watched his fingers disappear inside your dripping cunt. "I might fucking break you."

He jutted his erection against your thigh and you moaned, clenching around him. "Mm—Theo—"

His eyes followed yours toward his crotch—you couldn't help yourself, your fingers burned to feel him—to stroke him—to feel the weight of him in your hand. He nodded, and amidst your gasps and moans you reached for him, grasping at his zipper and undoing the button, tugging his jeans and boxers down his thighs—

Theo groaned and your mouth watered. Those rumours—Gods, those fucking rumours—

"Fucking hell—" you breathed, wrapping your fingers around his thick, heavy cock—he choked, digits pumping you deep—your thighs shook, your pulse in your throat. You tightened your fist and stroked him, watching him from half-lidded eyes. "Theo—holy fuck.."

His lungs sputtered. "That enough proof for you, Bella?"

You nodded and he throbbed—twitched under your grip, blood biting his cheeks when you coated his head with the bead of his pre-cum, his breath uneven, tattered from the weight of lust—but so was yours.

You moaned. "Oh—Gods—I'm—"

Theo circled your stiff nub, pumping his fingers into your pussy, and pleasure wracked you, pouring into your pulse, your orgasm charging toward you at light speed—his lips found yours, softly, muffling your moans.

"You're close, I can feel it..." he muttered against your mouth, fingers dragging at your walls, groaning as you clenched—as your free hand gripped his hair harder. "Cum on my fingers, Bella, go on..."

You shuddered and snapped—pleasure pulsating from your core and through your limbs, your orgasm lighting up your spine. In its intensity, you bit at his bottom lip while your cunt clamped down around his fingers, a feral energy coursing—the need for more—the need for every goddamn thing he was willing to give you eating away at your sanity—all coherent thought gone, only dissipating further as Theo pulled his fingers from your soaked cunt and sucked them clean with a growl.

"As fucking delicious as I'd imagined," he cooed, drifting his other hand up your thigh, fingers kneading the trembling flesh. You swallowed, lungs still working to find their rhythm. "I don't think you have any idea how long l've wanted this...any idea what you do to me..."

Gods—you almost wanted to laugh—this felt like a fever dream. You'd been friends for years, the fact it took this to get you both here was astonishing. His blue eyes peered down at you—wide and waiting.

"Look at you," you muttered, eyes dipping down to his throbbing dick, still twitching insistently in your hand. "I think I know exactly what I do to you."

Theo snuffed a groan in his throat, but his cock twitched again, despite himself—there was no preventing that.

"Cocky as ever," he whispered, lips curling in a teasing grin. "But now's not the time, principessa..."

"I can handle you," you breathed out, though a tremor in your voice hinted at the uncertainty you felt.

"We'll see." He said. "Lay on your side."

With a flush creeping up your neck, you complied, turning to face the window. The moonlight filtered through the glass, casting a silver sheen over the rippling surface of the Black Lake. Theo moved behind you, his body flush against yours, the slickness of sweat making your skin cling together—one arm slipped beneath your head, cradling it, while the other slid under your thigh, lifting it with a deliberate, practiced motion.

His dick slid against you, the girth daunting enough if not for the sheer fucking length of it—his body was massive behind yours, dwarfing you, a solid wall of heat at your back. You'd never felt so small, so fragile in a way that screamed breakable.

Theo teased your slit, covering himself in your juices—

"Just the tip, yeah?" He whispered, and fuck—you almost moaned. His voice was ruined. "For now."

"Theo—I—I think I can handle it..." you were trying to convince yourself as much as him. You wanted him to enjoy himself, too. "Just…fuck me, please.."

"Merlin help you..." Theo groaned and it almost sounded pitying—dragging the swollen head of his cock against your clit before dipping lower, pressing against the folds of your greedy cunt— "you don't know what you're saying..."

His arm under your head curled inward, wrapping around your neck and holding you in place against him—his other hand guiding his length to your entrance and pressing in—shushing you softly as the first inch breached you and you cried out—as your mind blanked.

"Theo—" you gasped through the chokehold he had you in, his free hand holding your thigh up as it trembled. "That's—you're—fuck—"

He pulled out and rocked along you again, testing you, offering you centimeters of his length at time. Gooseflesh flooded you.

His lips pressed against your ear. "Shhh, you said you could handle me, yeah?"

His hand on your thigh shifted lower, resting on the crease. He rutted against you a few more times, dragging this out for everything it was worth until he brought the tip back to your entrance and pushed in—slowly, inexorably—spearing you open, splitting your cunt and prying you wide in a way that rid your breath.

You whimpered, hand scrambling for purchase on his hip behind you. "Ohhh—h-holy fuck.."

"Fucking hell...you're tight..." his arm around your neck tightened, holding you against him and he pressed in deeper. "That's barely half..."

You fought for air and found absolutely none, every muscle in your body tensing, your limbs trembling, your mind fizzing with staticky pleasure. You felt as though you could break in two.

"Fuck," he drew out again, and pressed back in. "You can barely take it."

He was right. You could barely fucking take it. A revelation that you weren’t surprised by—but that made all the blood in your body pool low, walls fluttering around him in protest.

"Gods, Theo—T-theo—" you grasped his wrist, nails digging into his skin, eyes squeezed shut. "Wait—"

"Little more...you're doing so good, Bella..." he was cooing now, pressing kisses to your cheek. "I'll make it fit...we'll make it fit, won't we?"

You couldn't find a fucking modicum of sense to articulate a response. All you could do was feel—take and feel—the way he slid out, only to drive into you again, slowly, with a hiss of air through his teeth—drawing out loud, shameless groans from your chest.

"Mmm—breathe, Bella..." it was soft, soothing, like he was trying to coax you open with words. "Relax for me, yeah? Let me in...let me in..."

You obeyed without even thinking, pulling in shaky breaths, forcing your body to comply, even as your muscles screamed to stay tense—to fight the overwhelming fullness of him. You felt as though he couldn't possibly get deeper, but then he did, and he continued to until he bottomed out—his cockhead kissing your cervix, forcing a sound out of your chest that was more a sob than a moan.

Your eyes were shut so tight. "That's—"

"All of me," he interrupted, satisfaction dripping from every syllable. He rolled his hips, grinding against you, barely pulling out before pushing back in, and your whole body clenched in response. "Does it hurt?"

Every movement proved indefinitely that he was as long as he was thick—your core stretching to accommodate him. You felt him in places you'd never felt before—moulding and carving you out just for him, digging out new space inside you that only he could occupy.

"A little—“ the words were a whimper, and your walls tightened around him instinctively, fighting to adjust, to accommodate the impossible size of him. “Gods—“

"Then why are you making it worse?" He hissed through his teeth, strain bleeding into his tone. You could hear the shift—wrecked, ruined, like he was barely holding onto himself. "Fuck, you're squeezing me...too tight...relax.."

He pulled out and thrust back in, harder this time, sucking in air through his teeth as he worked you wider with each plunge into your soaked cunt. Your body rebelled, clenching down around him again, and he groaned, the sound vibrating through you, his hips snapping against yours in response.

"That's not going to make it easier, you know." His voice was a tight growl, but there was a grin in it, like he knew exactly what he was doing to you. "Keep that up and I'm going to leave you sore all day."

The thought made you clench again, your body betraying you as a broken apology fell from your lips—pain giving way to pleasure. "I'm—ohh—sorry-"

"Oh, you're going to be sorry." His pace quickened and you were seeing stars—bright and flashing and blurring your vision. "When you're spending all day in bed tomorrow...recovering..."

It only took seconds before he was grunting behind you—lost in your tight heat as he held you against him, hooking your thigh up toward your chest as his arm tightened around your neck, cock ramming your cunt—colliding with your cervix, pushing screams from your lungs. You couldn't think—couldn't catch your breath as he drove into you over and over.

"Fuck—so good…so fucking wet..." Theo moaned, the sound of his cock slippery and lewd, broadcasting evidence of your arousal. Face on fire, you tossed your head back against his shoulder and closed your eyes, chewing your lip, rocking with the force of his strokes. “You like that—being filled like this...greedy little thing..."

You whinged; he was boring into your stomach, delight gushing through your veins. You had never been with a man this endowed, and this fucking ruthless. It made you throb, set you aflame, whirled your brain with desire. Words eluded you.

"Ohh—yes,” you choked out between moans. "Gods—you're huge—"

"I am," he groaned in your ear, the hand on your thigh shifting to your belly, palm pressing against your pelvis—he eased his pace, offering you deep, slow strokes, letting you spasm around every goddamn inch. "That's how deep I'm in you."

At that, you moaned, shamelessly. Cocky bastard he was. You knew now that he was more than entitled to it.

"Can...fuck—can I cum in you?" His fingers slipped to your clit, slowly swirling over it—you didn't even have a second to process that question before the pleasure wracked you so hard you cried out, and he growled. "Fuck—let me cum in you...in this pretty little cunt.."

Somewhere in the blur, you registered his words—low, rough, pulling at the frayed edges of your sanity. Contraceptives. You were on them. It was the last rational thought you had left, buried deep under layers of heat and want. You knew you were fine, but the way he asked, in that voice—Gods—

His fingers increased their pace and you wailed. "Theo—holy f-fuck—yes—yes please!"

Lightning euphoria ripped up your spine with a shameless shriek, your climax shattering you. Your cunt throbbed and milked his dick, your thighs twitching, and your back reached for the wall but his arm around you kept you in place, pleasure possessing your nerves. It seemed an eternity—he was still fucking you through it, breaking you deep, and then he shattered too—breath washing over the back of your neck, chest heaving and lungs sputtering as he spilled his release into you, deep and sticky and hot.

You were still floating between realms of sensation and reality—your mind struggling to tether itself back to consciousness when Theo finally pulled out, releasing you. Both of you were heaving, chests rising and falling in tandem, your bodies slick with sweat and satisfaction.

A moment passed, your breaths slowly steadying, when you felt his arm snake around your waist, pulling you effortlessly against his chest. You shot him a weak, lopsided smile over your shoulder, still catching your breath.

"You okay?" He murmured, his voice a quiet hum in the afterglow.

"More than," you nodded, though your body still hummed with the remnants of pleasure. A hollow ache replaced where he'd been, leaving you startlingly aware of how empty you felt without him. "That was...you are...

"I know," he purred, lips grazing the sensitive spot behind your ear, the smirk practically carved into his breath. You could feel his smugness radiating off him, a tangible thing. "Hope your curiosity was sated."

You let out a breathy laugh, the warmth of his body seeping into your skin. "That, among other things."

"Good," he whispered, "I went easy on you."

You huffed, a slow smile creeping across your face. "Is that so?"

"Extremely so," he murmured, fingers tracing lazy circles over your hip. "Took all the willpower I had."

"Sure," you teased. "You're just saying that because I took you so well."

He chuckled, low and sinful, the sound vibrating through his chest and into your spine.

"Oh, she's cocky," he drawled, lips brushing your shoulder. "We'll see about that after I put you in ten different positions."

Your heart stuttered, your muscles tensing at the sheer boldness of the statement. Heat pooled in your belly once more, that insatiable curiosity sparking again. You knew this night was far from over.

Perhaps a little more proof wouldn’t hurt...

You turned your head just slightly, voice breathy but wanting. "Please do."

[ao3feed-snape]

secret

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/2PEQoyG

by malfoyscrackpipe

Vanessa is finally let out of the bubble her father has kept her in, under one condition. Will she be able to complete the task? Or will she crack under the pressure of falling in love with such a big secret?

Words: 4242, Chapters: 2/?, Language: English

Series: Part 1 of secret

Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Draco Malfoy - Fandom

Rating: Not Rated

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Categories: F/M

Characters: DracoMalfoy, vanessasnape, severussnape, pansyparkinson, blaisezabini - Character, nevillelongbottom - Character, lunalovegood - Character, Voldemort, theodorenott

Relationships: dracomalfoy/vanessasnape

Additional Tags: dracomalfoy - Freeform, Dracomalfoysmut, dracosmut, Smut, Deatheater, womeninpower, Torture

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2PEQoyG

[motherearthlovesus]

girl girl girl i fucking BEGGGGG you to make atleast ONE (or ten 😊) theo dealer moodboards omfg they make me go crazyyyyyyyyy pleasee 😞😞

more dealer!theo nott (others)

dealer!theo from @nottsangel <3

[iniquitousyearning]

SLYTHERINSLUT0’S KINKTOBER | 2024.

hello my loves. here we have the masterlist for my first ever kinktober. a huge thank you to all my new followers and to anyone who’s been around since the beginning. october marks a year since this account blew up so this is my little treat to yall. let’s get kinky.

please note the following, some of these works may contain triggering content and kinks that might not be for you, do not click on something you aren't comfortable with, and as always, chars are 19+, minors please do not interact.

MASTERLIST UNDER CUT | ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊🕷

kinktober masterlist. | full masterlist. | 19+ MDNI.

these will be completed in a mix of full fics & blurbs.

october 1st • size kink, big dick.

just the tip. theodore nott

october 4th • loss of virginity / corruption kink.

first time. mattheo riddle

• part one

• part two

october 8th • somno / free use.

thank you. tom riddle

october 11th • mirror sex / body worship.

i want you to watch yourself. blaise zabini

october 15th • brat taming / daddy kink.

yes, daddy. mattheo riddle

october 18th • hatefucking / dubcon / enemies

you’re lying. mattheo riddle

october 21st • gun play / dub con / masochism.

does this make me dangerous? tom riddle

october 25th • anal sex / sexual punishment.

turn around. tom riddle

october 28th • degradation / humiliation / 3sum

ghostface. theodore nott x lorenzo berkshire

october 31st • orgy / groupsome / drunk sex.

fuckfest. the slytherins

all works belong to © slytherinslut0 and are not permitted to be reproduced redistributed or republished in any way, shape or form.

banner credit: @violetbudd