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𝐌𝐘 𝐏𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐘𝐀𝐋 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐓.

theodore nott—mentioned a few times canonically in the harry potter books as a friend of draco malfoy, popularly known at hogwarts simply as “nott.”

full name: theodore nott.

hogwarts house: slytherin.

origin: born in rome, raised in england. he speaks english fluently, but considers italian his first language.

mother: phoena nott, formerly phoena vitale. ravenclaw. raised in rome, phoena carried her origins with her wherever her feet touched. she married christian nott, a close friend of lucius malfoy, and conceived theodore in sicily.

⤷ status: deceased; killed by an unforgivable curse cast by her husband.

father: christian nott, or nott sr. slytherin. raised in london, he is a major businessman in the wizarding world and a blood supremacist. a close friend of the malfoy family—just as his father had been—and a loyal follower and helper of lord voldemort. he is part of the sacred 28 and the head of one of the most powerful families in the wizarding world.

⤷ status: alive.

• no siblings; theodore is an only child. phoena faced difficulties becoming pregnant and almost died during theodore’s birth. from the day she heard her son’s tiny cry, she decided she would not risk another child, fearing it might take her away from the little bundle of light she had given her life for. christian, on the other hand, also had no interest in having another kid, since his heir’s heart was already beating healthily and the risk of a girl being born was far too great for his liking. thus, theodore was the couple’s first and last child.

• other relatives: he has an aunt, phoena’s sister, and a paternal grandmother, but he has no contact with either of them. in the case of his aunt, distance kept them apart; in the case of his grandmother, the old woman gave him chills. he had other distant relatives, but lost all rare contact with them after his mother passed.

— 𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄

— theodore’s hair is a light shade of brown that fall in soft, restless waves. his build is lean, though there is a reticent strength beneath it. theo's eyes are striking above all else: predominantly grey, an inheritance from his father, yet scattered with small flecks of the exact sky-blue that once belonged to phoena. their shape tilts slightly upward at the corners, giving them a naturally sharp look, though they are half-lidded, heavy with the air of someone perpetually sleep-deprived; some describe them as hunter eyes. dark circles rest beneath them, evidence of too many thoughtful & sleepless nights, though they only deepen the charm he carries.

— his facial features are sharp and defined, with an aristocratic nose and a cutting jawline, the architecture of a face that mirrors his christian’s almost perfectly, only softened by youth. there is a mole on his left cheek, just beside his eye, identical to the one his mother had at the corner of her mouth. unfortunately for him, but fortunately for everyone around him who could not possibly deny his beauty, theodore was the spitting image of his father. the same nose, the same eyes, the same keen jawline, the same strands of hair, as if someone had simply pressed the elder nott’s features into a younger mold.

— nott stands at around six feet and one inch tall (1.85m); his body is slender, making him an easy target for bullying in kindergarten. as the springs passed, quidditch practices and quiet hours spent training gave him muscles in the right places, shaping him into a lithe and undeniably strong figure. his legs are well-toned—theodore is not the type to skip leg day —and his arms are perfectly defined. a faint six-pack lies across his abdomen, though unlike mattheo, he rarely makes a spectacle of it. his skin is stubbornly pale and he rarely tans, even after long summers spent beneath the italian sun. theodore is a creature of the night and not particularly fond of sunny days, holding a steady preference for rainy, cloudy, or foggy weather. once, a girl remarked that he and draco looked like two corpses because of how pale they were; theodore had only allowed the faintest lift at the corner of his mouth in response.

— 𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏𝐒 (tw: drugs, grief, daddy issues.)

friendships.

— his inner circle is composed of blaise zabini, mattheo riddle, draco malfoy, and lorenzo berkshire.

blaise zabini: theodore’s earliest friendship belonged to blaise, before they ever stepped feet in hogwarts. ariadne zabini, blaise's mother, often stayed at nott manor, as mrs. zabini was phoena’s closest friend. the two women spent endless afternoons together, wandering to hogsmeade, sharing endless cups of tea, and even joined a book club side by side; this naturally resulted in a strong bond between the boys. theo and blaise grew up in the comfortable chaos of childhood companionship: shared toys (that would always end up scattered across the marble floors—poor house elves, who always had to clean up their mess), watched horror movies they definitely shouldn’t have been watching—sometimes films that were far from appropriate for their age, more than aware of the trouble that would wait for them in case ariadne or phoena barged in; took turns sleeping over at each other’s houses, and orchestrated countless childish pranks that left their mothers utterly exasperated, in the brink of despair.

even though time reshaped the dynamic of their friendships and theo is now closer to mattheo and blaise gravitated towards draco and lorenzo, the bond between them remains incredibly strong—they still share secrets and vulnerabilities, still find interest in the same things, and occasionally theodore can be found at ariadne’s manor, updating her on the events of his life while she listens with the same fondness she once reserved for the small boy who ran laughing through her halls.

mattheo riddle: theodore met mattheo on their first day at hogwarts, and whatever invisible thread connects kindred spirits seemed to tighten instantly between them. being the son of the man his father idolized, mattheo could have drawn theodore in for that reason alone—but that could not be more far from the reason why he did. instead, theo saw a boy who carried wounds that mirrored his own, someone who had learned, just as he had, to wear a mask before the world could notice the cracks beneath it. they were drawn toward each other the way moths are drawn to flame, and from that moment forward, they became inseparable.

they tried marijuana together for the first time. attended to their first party together. stumbled through their first drunken nights side by side. shared girls together… the list of their experiences was endless. it was often said, half in jest, that they were partners in crime: where there was fire—mattheo—there was smoke—theodore. yet, beneath the recklessness lived something far deeper. mattheo came from an extremely difficult family, and the emptiness inside him often threatened to swallow him whole—until theodore pulled him back to reality, to the solid ground. the same was true for theo; when the claws of grief tore too deeply, mattheo arrived with cotton and bandages. the two were brothers, elysian mates, and no amount of sorrow, hatred, or divine force could ever loosen the bond that tied them together. both were only teenagers, yet when they stood side by side, it felt as though they were bound by blood.

draco malfoy & lorenzo berkshire: theodore loved them, but merlin help him, they could be insufferable. draco and lorenzo were the most similar within the group, both prone to throwing fits when things didn’t go as planned, both extremely materialistic and emotionally irresponsible. theodore and draco grew up together thanks to the strong bond between christian and lucius, but truthfully, they were never as close as theo and blaise; honestly, theodore had this silent demur towards malfoy because, in his mind, becoming close to him would also make him close to becoming like the man he despised, who shared an older malfoy as a friend. they were good friends, but simply didn't have much in common.

don’t get me wrong—lorenzo was an incredibly entertaining company, and draco could give surprisingly good advice when he wanted to. it was simply that their strong and distinct personalities occasionally clashed in a too small of a space. that didn’t mean theodore wouldn’t step in front of a wand to save them, and vice versa. it was just that, like in any group of friends, some bonds run deeper than others.

family.

christian nott: nott sr.’s relationship with his son is the most troubled, fractured bond you will ever encounter. christian was raised under the harsh and conservative authority of a man who believed cruelty was discipline and tenderness a flaw, and that philosophy shaped the way he approached fatherhood. his own father had always been rude and severe, insisting that men must never cry, that weakness must be burned away and that survival belonged only to the hard. theodore hated the way his father treated both him and phoena, and it was this hatred that pushed the boy closer to his mother, clinging to the warmth she offered as though his life depended on it. the older theodore harbors a pure, genuine hatred for his father; disgust would be the mildest, gentlest word for it. after all, it had been christian’s wand that took the most precious person in theodore’s life. a cruel cruciatus, cast under the grotesque justification of strengthening his son, of ensuring he would not grow into a weak man. theo would forever remember the disturbing image of his mother collapsed upon the persian carpet in one of the grand rooms of the nott manor. now older, now painfully aware of the world’s cruelties, he understands what he hadn’t fully grasped as a child: his father was rotten to the core.

phoena nott: the ultimate mama’s boy. theodore idolized his mother in life, and now idolizes her spirit in death. she is, always was, and always will be everything to him. theodore will never forget the many afternoons spent learning italian with her—her patient voice, tinged with a gentle accent, teaching him everything from numbers and colors then later entire phrases and curious neologisms that made him laugh. the memory of her introducing him to the kitchen—now one of theo’s favorite hobbies—still accompanies him before he falls asleep. he recalls how she would guide his small hands through recipes and flavors that would one day become one of his greatest comforts. merlin, how he missed her. when phoena passed away, it was as if a piece of him died with her. depression consumed the eight-year-old boy, swallowed by a grief too large for a child to carry. years have passed since that moment. the wound has never fully closed. the only solace theodore allows himself is the hope that somewhere, she is still watching over him.

because he had borne witness to the terrible and cruel passing of his mother, theodore discovered at the age of fourteen that he possessed the rare ability to see thestrals, after wandering into the forbidden forest in the late hours. he would always remember the shock that washed him when the gaunt, phantasmagoric creature emerged before his eyes, its skeletal frame and dark, leathery wings unlike anything he had ever seen, though he quickly recalled hagrid’s lesson about such beings. and still, a foolish, almost soft thought lingered in the back of his mind: had his mother sent it to him as a silent way of saying hello from the other side?

— 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘 (tw: grief, mention of age gap, mommy & daddy issues, alcohol, drugs, anger issues, depression, mentions of self-harm and suicidal thoughts.)

✴︎ theodore has a more closed-off and inward-turned nature, preferring his own solitude to the presence of others. having lost his mother far too early and been left in the care of a father who was, at best, abhorrent, theodore learned to appreciate his own company, perhaps sooner than any child should. after all, blaise was not always there to keep him company, nor was ariadne to bake the most delicious english biscuits he had ever tasted.

he possesses an introspective and introverted personality, and even though his treacherous mind often harms him, crowding his thoughts with self-destructive whispers, theodore still prefers that to spending long hours socializing. it is almost as if he has found a strange sort of comfort within his own melancholy, and whenever he spends too long in someone’s presence, he can feel his social battery draining away like water from a cracked vessel; even mattheo—his best friend and one of the few people theodore genuinely enjoys having around—is enough to make him feel the need to disappear and hide for two entire days afterward, as though he must recover from the mere act of existing beside another person.

that does not mean theodore lives removed from the world, however. he does socialize. he attends the clandestine parties his classmates organize in the common rooms, goes out for late nights in hogsmeade with his infamous circle, or simply keeps them company during the long nights hogwarts provides. the truth is that he had to learn to loosen the chains of his own mind that pushed him toward isolation, because he was mature enough to understand that, whether he wanted to or not, a man could not live forever as a lone wolf.

✴︎ to most people, theodore may appear cold, and his sharp tongue and quick, calculating mind do little to contradict the impression. everyone sees him as the most lethal edge between the boys—the one who can and will dismantle you with cruel words rather than clenched fists, as mattheo tends to do. they're not entirely wrong. theodore learned early that one must know how to defend oneself. still, he is not particularly fond of physical fights, though he would never hesitate to fight if someone he loved required defending. he simply prefers the sentences as his weapons—something prepared, precise, and merciless for anyone who dares push his patience, a virtue theodore is far from mastering.

even so, behind closed doors, it is a mistake to think theodore nott is an iceberg. he can be very warm with those who deserve his warmth. he thinks too much and is not nearly as nonchalant as he seems. the blunt truth is that theodore uses coldness, rudeness, and discourtesy as armor, because in theo's eyes, no one is truly pure. everyone wants something; everyone carries ulterior motives. perhaps he is not entirely wrong in thinking so. the nott family is—and always has been—influential, and he has grown accustomed to the presence of sycophants of every sort whom he has never acknowledged. the safest thing to do is to shield himself and keep any potential threat away from his already fragile feelings.

✴︎ he does not live to impress anyone, but he does pursue excellence. since childhood, nothing less was ever accepted by his father, and that expectation carved itself deeply into theo’s bones. as a result, he has become fiercely competitive. in quidditch? exceptional—he has already received invitations from leagues all over the world, though he has no interest in pursuing a professional career. in school, he and draco are hermione granger’s greatest academic irritation, a persistent thorn on her side. though theodore privately despises the pettiness of such rivalries, he secretly finds himself competing with draco when it comes to intellect. he does not raise his hand in class—he simply states the correct answer aloud, constantly being reprimanded by professors for his lack of manners in speaking without permission. he does not care. he simply does it.

not for draco, not for hermione, not for the professors, and certainly not for the girls who seem eager to devour him whenever he displays his intelligence. he does it for himself, to silently (and stubbornly) prove to his father that he is not the foolish boy he once believed him to be, even if christian nott is now thousands of miles away. he does it for his mother, hoping she might be watching from above, seeing that she did not give birth to a dense kid.

curiously, he secretly admires stricter professors. professors who inspire dread in most students earn his respect instead. severus snape and minerva mcgonagall are his clear favorites, and he detests hearing his classmates complain about them. he understands them—teaching people he considers stupid would be stressful and exhausting for any human being. quietly, he gives himself a small, invisible pat on the back whenever mcgonagall says “very well observed, mr. nott,” or when snape simply nods at him in the corridors, a gesture the old man grants almost no one. both of them, knowing theodore’s father and the circumstances of his mother’s tragedy, feel a certain measure of compassion (in minerva’s case) and sympathy (in snape’s) for the italian boy.

✴︎ he has no interest in blood purity, finding it meaningless. in fact, he despises that prejudice so intensely that he has argued more than once with supremacists from his own house. to him, what defines a wizard’s strength is nothing more than their skill with a wand. his father despises this belief and fears, silently and bitterly, that the nott legacy will not be properly upheld by a son so indifferent to bloodlines. to theo, everyone bleeds red at the end of the day—and that is all that matters.

✴︎ he is shy and quiet, and he does not trust easily. but when he does find someone he considers worthy of his carefully chosen words—and eventually his trust—you can be certain you have gained a loyal ally for life. he is fiercely loyal to those who win him over, but do not be mistaken: once theodore’s trust is broken, it cannot be repaired. the worst side of theodore nott emerges then. cruel remarks flung carelessly across classrooms, rumors whispered with calculated malice... these are not beneath him. even while trying to remain cold, he is still like a pressure cooker ready to explode; if ruining your reputation brings him even a fragment of peace of mind, even a hint of that sweet revenge he wishes he could direct toward his father, he will not hesitate to reduce you to little less than dirt beneath his polished shoes.

✴︎ theo is brutally honest. he is not the kind of person who walks around spilling his opinions everywhere, but the moment someone asks for it, they should not expect words coated in honey. actually, honeyed words are not part of his vocabulary at all. if anything, his honesty borders on cruelty. small lies—“that haircut suits you,” or “that tie looks nice”—are things he despises. no. something closer to “it looks like you styled your hair with pigeon droppings instead of gel” or “that tie looks like it was vomited up by a bloody unicorn” would be more like him. but again, he only says such things when asked.

✴︎ despite his constant efforts to suppress the uglier parts of himself, there are days when the battle feels unwinnable. on such days, theodore lashes out without meaning to, delivering cruel remarks before realizing the damage they cause—whether because the knives of grief cut deeper on that particular day, because he received a call from his father, or simply cause he woke up in a foul mood. crying, however, is something he has forbidden himself entirely. his father had mocked him for it too many times when he was younger calling him “little girl,” “sissy,” and “weakling”, whenever he scraped his knee or was caught crying quietly because he missed his mommy. this detail is deeply damaging, because theodore bottles up his emotions until he explodes, injuring everyone unfortunate enough to stand nearby.

✴︎ when it comes to his lust life, theo prefers discretion; it exists in the shadows. he does not parade around with random girls the way mattheo does, nor does he have someone new under his wing every weekend like blaise. that does not mean he has few casual encounters—quite the opposite. at many of the parties he attends, he ends up spending the night with someone different. for him, intimacy is a fleeting, physical escape from his problems. yet the next day he treats those encounters casually, usually leaving once the other person falls asleep—and if someone asks him to stay, he will likely say something sharp while getting dressed before slipping out of the room. he gives pleasure and receives it, but to him, that is all it is. pleasure is exchanged. the thought of a relationship—especially with just anyone—makes him recoil.

however, there is a pattern he would never openly acknowledge. theo secretly has a preference for flings with older women. on more than one occasion he has even been involved with teachers who were far too intrigued by those icy blue eyes of his. the reason for this inclination is painfully obvious, though he would never admit it aloud: the maternal presence stolen from him far too soon. he enjoys their experience, but deep down he imagines someone his own age—or perhaps a little younger—when it comes to something lasting. someone who could grow alongside him, someone he could protect without feeling immature. the older ones are merely for fleeting amusement.

✴︎ he is deeply rational and never gives himself the luxury of false hopes. theo knows his strengths and weaknesses intimately, and he knows precisely how to conceal or reveal them. this makes him a good adviser if you want words that actually lead somewhere—but a terrible one if you are looking for validation. on the other hand, he is an excellent listener, and if you simply need to vent, he will be there as a shoulder to lean on. theodore listens better than most.

✴︎ melancholy sits at the center of him like an old companion. his temperament leans naturally toward sadness, sharpened by anger and a grief that time has never managed to dull. that explains much of how he behaves. one of the ways he has found to control some of his demons is by becoming, essentially, a walking chimney. oh, how disappointed his mother would be to see her son impressing girls by blowing smoke into different shapes.

his favorites are ordinary cigarettes—muggle, wizarding, alien, whatever—but he also has a certain fondness for marijuana. he likes how it calms him, how it takes him to a softer place where a supremacist father does not exist, where his mother is there telling him everything will be alright, where he is truly loved by someone without needing to hide his many faces. theo has tried other drugs before, like cocaine, but decided it did not suit him—besides, he fears becoming addicted beyond repair. so he sticks to cigarettes and weed, and that is enough to keep the thoughts of hurting himself or stopping his own heartbeat at bay. mattheo was the one who introduced him to the habit, but with the chaos in his mind, it reached a point where the roles were reversed and nott was the one supplying the cigarettes to riddle instead.

he also likes to drink—firewhisky, especially—but he does not enjoy how alcohol turns people into strangers. it is destructive, but damn, the feeling of his lungs burning is strangely satisfying: a pain he can feel physically rather than mentally. as if he were finally fighting something tangible.

✴︎ beneath all of this lies the part of himself theodore considers the most private: his depression. jn his mind, it is not something he has but something he is. trauma, self-destruction, melancholy... they feel inseparable from his identity. theodore has tried numerous psychologists and psychiatrists throughout his life, but nothing ever seemed to reach him. when christian gifted him with the “wise” words that real men do not reveal their deepest vulnerabilities to an untrustworthy professional—and that until he became a real man he would never succeed in life—theodore combined convenience with resentment and never returned to another therapist again.

as mentioned, he is quiet and closed-off, and he hated how therapists seemed determined to rummage through his insides until they found some tidy explanation for the way he was. one thing they always said was that theodore was not like this, that he was merely feeling this way, and theodore could not disagree more. that corrosive feeling was all he had ever known. being as rational as he was, he would never dare to hope for a version of himself without that cursed illness. for him, it was fine. he had found comfort in melancholy, comfort in the thought of throwing himself from the astronomy tower. and even on good days, when the sun did not seem quite so unbearably bright, theo would never allow himself to believe there was another fate waiting for him besides the one religions describe as the vilest of sins.

— 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐒

✴︎ he is an avid reader, and one of the items that never fails to be in his bag (besides cigarettes, chewing gum, and his perfume) is whatever volume he happens to be reading at the moment. it is a habit his mother placed gently into his hands when he was young, one he has never once considered abandoning. he holds a particular fondness for italian literature and uses it as a way of keeping his first language alive in his memory.

✴︎ he is an enthusiastic admirer of muggle video games, especially the violent ones. he spends hours in the dormitory with mattheo playing until his hands ache from gripping the controller too tightly, cursing whenever he loses and laughing whenever mattheo dies.

✴︎ theo is not the greatest fan of parties, though he attends them nonetheless. he prefers spending time alone in his own company, silence swallowing the blaring music that makes his ears ring unpleasantly. more often than not, he goes only for the sake of his friends.

✴︎ theodore loves cooking. in the kitchen, there is little he cannot accomplish, and if he lacks the knowledge, he simply learns. armed with his mother’s recipe book, theodore is unstoppable. sweets and savory dishes alike would always be at your disposal whenever even the slightest craving appeared. he delights particularly in sharing the depth and beauty of italian cuisine, from generous plates of pasta to carefully layered lasagnas, from warm cakes to delicate pastries, there is nothing theodore cannot make. still, it is a private hobby—one fewer than five people know about. honestly, theodore does not wish to open that part of his life to anyone who does not truly intend to be part of it.

✴︎ although he excels in transfiguration and is skilled in turning objects into others, as well as quite talented in charms, theo’s favorite subject is astronomy. beneath the night sky and among constellations, he feels closer to his mother. he reads book after book about astronomy, fighting back the irritating tears whenever he comes across the same stories phoena once told him, though in less whimsical ways and certainly not in the soft manner meant for a seven-year-old child.

✴︎ his wardrobe reflects the quiet precision with which he moves through the world. turtlenecks and long-sleeved shirts, tailored trousers and worn jeans, hoodies for quieter moments, and flannel pajama pants he favors with particular affection. he loves flannel. he gravitates towards cool tones, and most of his clothing falls within shades of black, gray, navy blue, and shades of green (mint, forest, emerald, and teal green mostly). his shoes are usually elegant sneakers or expensive loafers. theodore adores wool and the winter, and he hates the summer and the mosquitoes that bite his arms and legs. he rarely wears shorts—he considers them dreadful—but he does like compression shirts. and absolutely, without question, he is a great enthusiast of scarves, long blazers that reach down his tall legs, and well-worn leather jackets. on his fingers you will find only silver rings—never gold.

✴︎ music occupies a vast and tender space in his life. classical music, rock, bossa nova, folk... his taste wanders freely across genres. although he enjoys instruments, he values their compositions more. the delicate interplay of words fascinates theodore, and he even keeps an ultra-secret notebook where he writes his own compositions and lines that have struck something deep within him. he learned to play the piano with his mom and knows how to play a bit of guitar and acoustic guitar as well, though no one knows about the latter two. it is something he keeps strictly to himself.

some of his favorite muggle songs:

wicked games — chris isaak

i still haven't found what i'm looking for — u2

yeah right — joji

why'd you only call me when you're high — arctic monkeys

not you too — drake, chris brown

softcore & daddy issues — the neighborhood

wash — bon iver

mystery of love, fourth of july & futile devices — sufjan stevens

november rain — guns n' roses

the night we met — lord huron

like him — tyler, the creator

— 𝐈𝐍 𝐀 𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔 (tw: addiction, brief nsfw.)

✴︎ to love theodore would never begin with love. i believe the two of you would first have to become close friends, and only after time had softened the distance between you could something deeper begin to take shape. as mentioned before, theodore is not someone who opens easily. his guarded nature ensures that only a rare few ever glimpse what lies beneath the surface. his complex personality tends to drive the unprepared away, and before diving headfirst into the vast and uncertain ocean that you are, theodore needs to feel safe. his trust is like a building made of stacking blocks: you place them carefully, one atop the other, and if they fall, you return to the very beginning. once theodore’s trust is broken, all that remains is the hollow shell he shows to the world. but if you manage to stack every block with enough patience for the tower to reach its highest point, you are rewarded with a view of the entire city—because when theodore’s trust is truly earned, you hold the world in your hands.

✴︎ theo would do absolutely anything for you, and i mean anything. that devotion would reveal itself in small moments as much as in grand ones: from arriving late because he walked you across the castle to your classroom on the other side, ignoring his own schedule simply to make sure you arrived safely, to stepping in front of you if a curse were ever aimed at your chest. in his mind, there would be nothing he would not sacrifice for you.

✴︎ he is extremely possessive and protective of you, almost instinctively so. losing his mother so early exposed a darker side of theodore, and the fear of losing you would haunt him every single day when he opened his eyes in the morning. one could easily imagine theodore placing a tracker on your wand—not to monitor your every step, but to make sure he would know exactly where to run if something ever went wrong. if danger ever found you, he would want to reach you first. he would become your own personal guardian angel, always there to pull you out of trouble, only to give you a lecture that seemed to stretch endlessly afterwards. beneath those sharp words, however, would hide the trembling truth of how frightened he had been. he would pull you tightly against his chest, long fingers heavy with silver rings threading through your hair while the other hand steadied your back, murmuring things like “you scared the hell out of me” or “never do that again” once you were safe in his arms—the safest place you could possibly be.

✴︎ following that same line, theo would also be very jealous—but not in the sense of forbidding you from wearing certain clothes or speaking to certain people. he is jealous, not controlling. theodore is confident enough to know that, if necessary, he is more than capable of disfiguring the face of the fucker who dared try something with what is his. he would certainly make his displeasure known if he saw you talking to another boy, raising one of his thick eyebrows and curling his hands into fists, remarking with a calm, yet edged with something sharper voice that he did not like that guy. but you would only truly understand how angry he was once night fell, when the tension between you turned into something far more intense.

✴︎ sex with him would feel like the most intense kind of journey, something consuming. he enjoys the raw physicality of closeness and the trust that comes with it, sometimes pushing the boundaries of control and surrender if you trusted him enough. theo can shift between rough intensity and deep attentiveness, savoring both the moments where he can hold you tightly and the ones where he watches your expressions change under his touch. he enjoys positions that let him hold you by the hair or see your face clearly, and he takes his time building the tension between you before finally closing the distance. he loves speaking during those moments too—often letting italian words slip from his lips when emotion overtakes him, something he eventually realizes affects you more than he expected. when the haze of pleasure fades, theo becomes impossibly gentle, he would take care of you in the way many girls imagine perfect care to be: guiding you into a warm bath, washing your hair, kissing the warmth of your skin slowly, always asking if you are alright, if he hurt you, if you need anything. care, for him, is not an afterthought.

is this a safe space to say that theo would be really into spitting in your mouth? for some reason that act made him feel an extra intense level of closeness, and truthfully, it got him insanely turned on. just a random little thought.

theodore enjoys certain gestures of intimacy that make the moment feel even more private and deeply shared—small acts that, to him, symbolize a level of trust and closeness that exists only between the two of you.

✴︎ his love language is primarily acts of service. cooking for you would be one of his quiet joys, bringing his mother’s old recipe book to life again. with him, you could travel across italy without ever leaving hogwarts—through plates of pasta, rich sauces, warm bread, and desserts prepared with quiet devotion. when you were exhausted, sick, or on your period, he would do your homework for you. he would plan thoughtful, almost impossibly romantic dates: picnics in rome reached through complex apparition spells, quiet trips to hogsmeade for butterbeer, or afternoons spent in bookshops where he would sit with you on his lap, your back pressed against his chest while he held the book for the both of you—always waiting patiently for you to finish each page before turning it. the list of different encounters would never truly end.

✴︎ theo is not someone who enjoys excessive pda, but he is certainly not the type to treat you differently in public either, never pretending you're anything less than his. he simply prefers subtlety—holding your hand, with your fingers idly spinning the silver rings he wears, draping an arm around your shoulders, or resting a hand on your knee where your uniform skirt leaves it bare. if surrounded by friends while relaxing in the slytherin common room, he might let you sit on his lap or between his legs. you would lean your head against his shoulder while he absentmindedly massages your scalp. occasionally, he would press quiet kisses to your forehead when he thought no one was looking—though that never stopped mattheo from teasing him, claiming theo had gone soft. theodore would only roll his eyes. your relationship would be private, yes, but never secret. those simple, enduring touches were his way of showing affection, and he would trust that you understood. those quiet touches were simply the way he loved you.

✴︎ because he is deeply avoidant, theo sometimes ends up saying hurtful things that push you away, leaving him hating himself even more afterward. he loves you more than he has ever loved breathing, but sometimes, he can be an idiot. during arguments he can be explosive, and once things calm down he nearly has to force himself to ask for your forgiveness. yet when everything settles, pride becomes something he forces himself to swallow. he would swallow glass if it meant making you happy; what were a few sincere apologies if they brought the two of you back to normal?

✴︎ theo hates crying, especially in front of you. he wants to be your anchor. every time tears betray him, tracing hot paths down his narrow cheeks, he feels as though he has failed to be the man you deserve. yet sometimes the weight of the world—and of his own actions—is too much to bear alone. in those moments, he shows vulnerability in the most raw, human way possible, and you always surprise him by not fearing the complicated parts of him. theo would forever be astonished that you choose him every single time, rather than the impulsive and sometimes cruel side that also lives within him.

✴︎ if the two of you were ever to break up, he would avoid you as much as humanly possible, vanishing in thin air. not because he hated you, but because seeing you would hurt too much. he would skip classes you shared, eat far from the great hall—or avoid it entirely—and stay away from the places he knew you liked. to him, you would become something like the plague: impossible to approach without reopening the wound. his vices would worsen considerably. he would drink and smoke as if the world were ending, losing himself in every compulsion he once promised he would control. anything to drown the hollow space you left behind.

✴︎ on the other hand, if you married and built a family together, theodore would abandon every bad habit he had ever carried—even if that meant checking himself into some miserable rehabilitation clinic to do it. he would become the most loving father imaginable, absolutely refusing to resemble the man who had merely donated his sperm to bring him into the world. he would never miss one of his children’s school presentations and would likely cry the day they left for hogwarts. for you, he would strive to be the best husband possible, making sure you never lacked anything. household tasks would be shared. your burdens would become his. above all, theodore would dedicate himself to making you happier with each passing day—as a kind of quiet repayment one he would always believe insufficient for seeing him as something more than his traumas and addictions. together, no obstacle would ever seem impossible to overcome.

footnotes.

i got carried away while describing theodore, and it ended up being too long if you got here, thank you for reading. ♡ also, if you’re new here, this is recommended as a first read before diving into my masterlist—it will help you understand why theo acts the way he does in my other works.

author's note: for this post, i took some inspirations from lo (brandolover21 on tiktok). also, thank you so much, @artytaeh, for letting me use the names phoena, christian & ariadne. <3

supporting works: some posts that can complement what you just read.

— skin: a one shot that'll explain, with more details, how would theodore feel after his breakup with you.

— theo's music taste: more about the songs and artists he would enjoy.

— theodore navigating through reader's pregnancy & theo's first baby fever: both are about theodore as a father/in fatherhood. how he would deal with it, his thoughts, insecurities and more.

— cigarettes out the window: explore his turbulent relationship with cigarettes.

find more here.

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ellas-enchantments

games of deception

After finding out you were just a bet, an unexpected hero comes to your rescue. But why would this near stranger be so kind to you? What secret is he hiding? And when it comes to love, can you roll the dice without falling for his charm?

Lorenzo Berkshire x f!Reader

A/N: I couldn’t resist doing another fake dating trope with Enzo! I love it when he uses his manipulative side for chaotic good lolol. Fluff with a bit of angst!

✿ Masterlist | ✿ Lorenzo Berkshire Masterlist | 4.7k words

The neon lights blurred as tears slid down your cheeks until they splashed onto the floor. Around you, tangled bodies moved to the rhythm of blaring music, too focused on their own revelry to notice your sorrow.

You copied them, body swaying to a sad song only you could hear. It wasn’t fair. Tonight was supposed to be a break from crying in your room while eating tubs of ice cream in your oversized shirt. Instead you were at a Slytherin party, crying while your sequined dress sparkled.

jaythes1mp

Deceptively Charming

Yandere Lorenzo Berkshire x reader

lov3notts

hot tub

Theodore Nott x F!Reader

Summary: Theo can't keep his hands off you after seeing you in a swim suit, but lack the privacy to really show you how much craves you, I guess the the hot tub will do for now

warnings: smut, semi-public, cream pie, use of pet names, kinda both point of views?? idk

a/n: had the sudden motivation to write!! also I've made a library blog(consists of me only rebloging all of my work)

18+only: minors don’t interact

Navigation; masterlist; request rules

Theodore's eyes darken with desire as he watches you approach the hot tub, your figure accentuated by the revealing swimsuit. A slow smile spreads across his face as he takes in the sight of you, his gaze lingering on your curves.

As you slip into the hot tub, the warm water envelops your body, sending a shiver of pleasure through you. You settle in next to Theodore, the heat of his body radiating against your skin.

His hand finds your thigh, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your smooth skin, softly massaging you. You tilt your head back, your eyes fluttering closed as you relax into his touch.

lov3notts

bf’s enemy!theo picks a fight with cedric

finally got around to editing this, it came out longer than it organically was but not complaining, couldn’t find aesthetic pics for the life of me

warnings : blood, fighting

word count: 2.7k

Navigation; m.list; r.r; bf's enemy!theo au; more

Cedric loses the match before he ever steps onto the pitch.

Not because Ravenclaw played better.Not because Hufflepuff was off their game.

Because for the first time in years, Cedric Diggory cannot focus. And it starts with something stupid.

A scarf.

A stupid scarf.

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luv4freddie

Rumor Has It - L.B

The Hogwarts Rumor Mill spreads gossip faster than a Firebolt. The newest scandal wrecking havoc on the school? You and Enzo have secretly been dating for months.

enzo x fem!reader, friends to lovers, kinda fake dating, fluff and comedy, 1.1k words

There were few things that were fact at Hogwarts. A couple of them included, the Slytherin vs Gryffindor quidditch match always ended with someone in the hospital wing, Ravenclaws gave the best advice, and the Hogwarts rumor mill ran faster than any firebolt could dream.

You’d heard secrets about third years you’d never met within an hour of them happening, told Pansy something and then heard Hermione Granger talking about it two tables over, even the professors weren’t safe in the endless grapevine.

It was always easy to figure out who the latest victim was based on who got stares at mealtimes or giggled at before class.

Which is why when you and Enzo walk into the Great Hall, laughing and shoulder to shoulder as usual, you immediately know that something is off. Half the school turns to stare, chatter quieting and giggles starting to echo from the younger years.

redeemingvillains

closed & locked - lorenzo berkshire

summary: fact: you are overwhelming smitten with lorenzo berkshire. fact: you think he's smitten with you too. but when you and pansy hear something you shouldn't have, it has you questioning everything you thought you knew about hogwarts' biggest flirt.

word count: 3.5k

soundtrack: where i wanna be - arizona

author's note: i apparently write for enzo now? who knew. we only have @pizzaapeteer & @prythiansprincess to blame as they have been fueling my obsession completely. i loved this! it was so fun to write! mwahhh!

warnings: v suggestive, probably a bit 18+

_______when she speaks, it's a dangerous fantasy ________that sets me free, to where i wanna be

Your fingers curled into Pansy's as she tugged you along beside her in the dark corridors of the common room until you reached an alcove along a small landing that provided you both with a glimpse of the boys below. Your heart was thrumming in your chest as you tried to quiet your breathing and she waved the extendible ear excitedly in front of you; you shook your head thinking, again, how crazy this was.

lxve-fool

pairing; hockey player!mattheo riddle x reader

summary; you expected things to be different after mattheo found out what you’d been keeping from him, but you didn’t expect it to get to his head. literally.

warnings; high school au, modern au

note; part 1, part 2

“Don’t get me wrong, he’s a weapon on the ice, but that kid has got a serious temper. He spends more time in the penalty box than Crouch Jr! You remember that boy?”

You shook your head silently, staring blankly out of the windshield.

“Wouldn’t expect you to,” your father dismissed with a wave of his hand, the other resting lazily on the steering wheel. “That Riddle boy is real valuable, though, so I’m willing to look past that. I really think he can bring my program back to what it once was. He’s already pretty popular in the media.”

You nodded along, barely registering his words. Your mind was elsewhere, somewhere in a dimly lit stairwell surrounded by anatomy textbooks and broad shoulders.

You finally looked over at your dad when he gave your shoulder a small nudge.

“Maybe you’ll even have time between all those doctor classes to come watch a few games,” he teased, but his tone held a flicker of hope. A flicker that you would snuff out before it became a flame.

“Maybe if your players hit the puck instead of their opponents, I’d be more inclined to watch,” you mumbled, toying with the jade ring on your finger.

Your dad laughed heartily at that, and you watched with a tiny smile despite the sinking feeling that crawled throughout your stomach.

The boy. The boy with the pretty brunette curls that fell over his forehead messily, like he’d woken up that morning and merely splashed water on them. The boy with the cut on his brow and a split lip.

Mattheo Riddle.

You couldn’t help the urge to treat his injuries when he’d stumbled into the little hiding spot you’d made for yourself in that stairwell. You were more than bored, music cranked to full volume in the headphones that you’d bedazzled all by yourself, eyes barely reading the book in your hands.

You had tried to find a spot away from all the noise, but still, the muffled cheering and the obnoxious goal horn bled through your music.

It all only made you more curious about the game you hated.

But then the roaring of the crowd through the walls shifted to aggressive jeering as the players no doubt punched and shoved each other around the ice, and your stomach dropped to your feet.

You hated that violence. How could someone willingly drive their fist into someone else’s nose, knowing that the damaging of their nasal septum could lead to breathing problems for the rest of their life?

Okay, maybe not everyone knew exactly that, but they were doing it to hurt another person, and that never sat right with you. It made your hands clammy and shaky, fingers twitching with the urge to fix whatever was broken.

Which is why you had to treat Mattheo Riddle’s injuries.

However, your aversion to violence didn’t quite explain why your heartbeat sped up every time his skin touched yours or your cheeks ached with the smile that you couldn’t quite stamp down in his presence. He, with just one private moment and some gentle words, had somehow managed to put you in a constant state of high blood pressure and you didn’t quite know how to handle it.

“I know you just happened to bump into him, kid, but I’d still be cautious if I were you,” your dad’s careful warning cut through your thoughts. Your dad was usually so lighthearted and kind. You’d never heard him so serious and it only made you spin that ring on your finger faster. “You hate violence, he no doubt craves it. It’d do you well to stay away from him.”

After you and Mattheo’s almost-kiss and your hurried attempt at escape, your dad had found the two of you exchanging hushed words by the door. Your father wasn’t quite as disturbed as you expected him to be, partially due to the fact that you hadn’t given him much time to register the interaction at all. You’d all but ripped your backpack from Mattheo’s shoulder and rushed out into the parking lot, where you then explained to your dad that what he’d seen had just been an innocent run-in with one of your classmates.

He hadn’t suspected that that particular classmate of yours had been plaguing your thoughts for weeks.

So maybe you were going crazy at the prospect of speaking to him again. Maybe the entire weekend your skin had been buzzing from the memory of his lips brushing yours. The feeling of his breath hitting your slightly parted lips, his brown eyes closer than you’d ever seen them, it all worked to slowly unravel your carefully structured mind. He had a dimple on his right cheek, your brain had noticed without your permission, and it only showed when he gave you that silly grin and called you ‘doc.’

It was maddening.

Come Monday after that game, the voice in your head damn near belonged to him. All of your attempts at studying had failed because your brain couldn’t hold anything except the distinct tilt of his head when he was amused.

And you’d been completely foolish to think that speaking to him again would set your mind straight, because he hadn’t said a word to you.

Every passing glance you’d spared him in the halls had not been returned.

Every time you’d seen him he was scowling at nothing in particular, not even paying attention to his obnoxious friends around him.

And every opportunity you’d seen to speak to him was snatched away as he avoided your very presence.

It was giving you a strange sort of déjà vu.

Oddly enough, it was when you’d retreated to your sanctuary, the library, when you finally spoke to him.

Classes for the day had already been let out, and it was your favorite routine to sit at the nice table in the library and catch the late bus home so you could spend a few peaceful hours studying. The place was empty and the scent of books and the sound of the librarian shuffling around behind her desk was all that remained.

You had finally made it to the familiar spot, clutching a few books to your chest and backpack brimming with schoolwork, when a head of messy brunette curls caught your eye.

You immediately stopped, squinting at the boy occupying your favorite table.

Mattheo Riddle was in the library. In your spot.

But the odd thing was: he had no books out.

There wasn’t a single piece of paper or even a pen on the table that could’ve indicated him doing some kind of work.

He was just sitting there, fingers clasped together on the surface, jaw clenched so tightly you swore you could hear his teeth grinding, and eyes trained on the markings in the smooth wood. His hair was a bit damp and he was wearing a ‘Hogwarts Hockey’ practice jersey, padded hockey shorts still on his body like he’d been in the middle of practice before he wandered over to your table.

His posture was stiff, but the way he didn’t even look up as you approached told you that he’d been sitting there, spacing out, for quite a while.

You stood right next to the table, and he only looked up when you let your books fall onto it.

“Mattheo?” you said slowly, lips tugging up in a tiny, teasing smile. “Are you getting back at me for infiltrating your spot a few weeks ago?”

The boy blinked up at you like you’d woken him from a trance, then frowned a frown that you’d never seen before. It wasn’t quite a scowl like the kind he usually had on at school, but he didn’t look sad either. He looked almost lost.

When he didn’t answer you, your smile dropped and your voice took on a softer tone, tilting your head to the side in confusion. “Mattheo?” you repeated, gentler this time.

“I hate the library, doc,” he whispered, voice matching the lost little boy look he was giving you. “I hate the library, but my legs carried me all the way over here anyway.”

Then he added, almost as an afterthought, “Smells like you in here…like books and my imagination.”

You furrowed your brows at his unblinking nature, leaning closer to his face, inspecting his eyes. That’s when you noticed his pupils. His left eye was almost completely black, but his right pupil was dilated slightly less, only making you press even closer in concern.

Your hand came up to gently cup his cheek, and you turned his head slightly, gasping at the blossoming purple mark on his temple.

“Mattheo are you…are you concussed?” you spluttered, other hand reaching up to hold his face still.

His eyelids fluttered and you swore that the sound vibrating through his throat closely resembled a purr. Mattheo Riddle was leaning into your hands and purring.

“Said I was okay to walk to the health office by myself,” he slurred, looking up at you through half-lidded eyes. “But y’know I hate those people, angel. I hate ‘em. Was walking past the library and I…I smelled you. Then I couldn’t think of anything else, of anyone else. Just you. Just this.”

Your heart nearly leapt out of your chest at his words and you could’ve stopped breathing when his hands came up to steady your shaking hands on either side of his face.

His hands were rough and calloused against yours, but his cheeks were soft. So soft you didn’t think you ever wanted to let go. Better yet, you never wanted to leave his proximity.

Stepping slightly closer as Mattheo turned to face you fully, knees bracketing your legs, you murmured slowly, “You’re disoriented. You need to go home, to rest.”

“Please don’t go,” he mumbled sadly, pressing his lips to your palm. Your lips parted in shock, you didn’t think Mattheo Riddle had ever pleaded for anything in his life. “This is where I need to be. Only want your hands on me, and I hate when people put their hands on me. I just met you and you’ve already fucked with my head. Doc, I hate doctors.”

His hands left yours to circle around your waist, pulling you suddenly closer. You yelped as he yanked you between his thighs and rested his chin against your stomach, staring up at you with those dazed brown eyes and a frown that tugged at every single one of your heartstrings.

This boy. This boy with the gruff voice that only softened when he was with you. This boy with rough hands that held you like you meant something. This boy and his sweet words.

“I lied to you, Mattheo,” you sighed, fingers reaching up to brush stray curls off his forehead as the guilt gnawed at you viciously. It’d been a lingering feeling all weekend as you remembered the disturbed look on his face that night after his game. “You should hate me for not telling you. I would. Doing…whatever we’re doing…could mess with your entire career!”

“You couldn’t be more wrong,” he groaned, words sticky in his mouth as he struggled with the thoughts that were likely bouncing around painfully in his head. Worry joined the guilt in your body as you eyed his concussed state. You opened your mouth to tell him he needed to seek treatment, but he kept talking. “You aren’t a liar. Far from it. Yeah, I was a bit frustrated with you for not saying anything, but I don’t blame you. Not one bit. And I can’t stay away from you.”

Mattheo heaved in a pained breath, but his rambling cut off your protests once more, words slurred. “I don’t care that my future coach is your dad. I mean, he’s a little scary, but not having you is way scarier. I’ve never been worried about my career, I know I’m good, I’ve met tons of people who say the same thing. But I’ve never met someone who I’d let patch up my injuries, I’ve never met someone like you.”

In finality, he whispered, “I’m not letting you get away from me.”

You blinked quickly, eyes burning with the emotion you were holding back, and you laughed thickly despite yourself. “You sound very sure of yourself,” you huffed, eyes trailing over his face, lingering on his bruise.

“Good, cause I don’t feel like it,” Mattheo winced as your finger brushed lightly over his temple.

You immediately felt your brain switch into doctor mode, and by the weak, but knowing, smile on his face, you knew he saw it too.

“You have a concussion, Riddle, you need to sleep,” you muttered sternly, but he only laughed as you pulled at the skin under his eyes to inspect his pupils. “You cannot go back to practice, and you definitely shouldn’t be in the bright library lights right now.”

He was full-fledged grinning up at you now, big hands sprawled across your back and chin digging into your stomach. “Yeah? Is this your way of telling me you like me back?”

You chuckled again, feeling the blood pump faster into your poor heart and butterflies wreak havoc in your stomach. “Yes, it can be,” you lilted, voice slow as you took in his hazy state. “But it’s also an order.”

“Yes, doc,” he grumbled, eyelids drooping shut with each word.

You panicked and shook his head gently, but he still hissed at the pain.

“Sorry,” you said sheepishly, brushing a damp curl from his forehead again. “It’s just—you shouldn’t sleep yet. Wait a few hours, incase any worse symptoms occur.”

“Can’t help it. Your voice is so soft and you smell like books.”

The following hour and a half was filled with Mattheo’s slurred teasing as you stumbled through the halls with him leaning his weight on you, a car ride from hell as you fought to keep him awake while driving his extremely expensive car back to your house, and a lot of convincing from your part to get him inside.

“I’ll explain everything to him, Mattheo,” you coaxed as you turned the engine off and leaned over the center console to peer into his gorgeous brown eyes.

“S’already humiliating enough that a girl’s driving me home,” he huffed, pressing a palm to his forehead. “Now I have to meet her terrifying father half fucking conscious? Kill me already, would you?”

“You’re very dramatic, did you know that?” you shook your head, unbuckling his seatbelt and patting his shoulder once before slipping out of the car. You leaned against the open door in annoyance when he made no move to get out. “Would you like me to come around and open the door for you in proper chivalrous manner?”

“Merlin, no!” he rushed out, moving with a speed that you didn’t think was healthy in his state. He stumbled up your porch steps behind you, silent with what was no doubt anxiety thrumming in his concussed head.

You felt it too, and with shaky fingers you unlocked your door.

You had no idea what your dad might say about you bringing home his next biggest prospect, dizzy and delirious, but you couldn’t risk leaving Mattheo alone. Your doctor brain wouldn’t allow it, and your foolish heart couldn’t even bear it.

“Dad?” you called as you stepped through the threshold of your home, flicking on the hallway light but immediately flicking it off when Mattheo hissed in pain behind you.

You heard your dad call back your name in confusion, his voice coming from the living room. “Shouldn’t you be at the library? It’s still pretty early,” he shouted over the commentary of what was likely a hockey game playing on the TV.

You gulped, reaching blindly behind you to grasp Mattheo’s hand, pulling him into the dimly lit room where your father had his feet kicked up on the coffee table and fingers locked behind his head.

“Well, I was but, uhm,” you began nervously, standing in the entryway of the living room, waiting for your dad to turn around and spot the six-foot-something wall of muscle barely upright on his feet beside you. “I ran into someone…”

Your father turned at that, and his eyebrows raised so high up his forehead you thought they might fly off all together. It was safe to say he was stunned, speechless as he slowly rose from the couch, hockey game forgotten, and stared at Mattheo.

“That’s…” your dad trailed off, gaze flicking between the two of you with rising confusion.

“He’s concussed, dad, and you know how I am about injured people!” you immediately said, fingers tightening around a silent Mattheo’s hand. “He doesn’t like being treated by the medical staff at school and I couldn’t leave him on his own! Please let him stay and rest, just for tonight. He’ll be better by the morning!”

There was an eery sort of quiet that settled over the room after you finished rambling, before Mattheo finally decided to grace your father with his disgruntled words.

“I’ll be a perfect saint on the ice for her,” he spoke in a pleading tone, taking a shaky step forward. “I’ll stay out of the papers unless it’s hockey related, I’ll be more friendly in interviews—just please let your daughter fix me with her soft hands, because seeing two of you is a lot scarier than one.”

You felt your heart swell in your chest at his sweet words. No one had ever been willing to better themselves just for you. But he would. He wanted to. All so your dad would accept him.

You couldn’t help the grin that spread over your lips, pulling your father’s attention away from the swaying boy. The man’s eyes softened as they trailed over your smile, then down to your hands still gripping each other’s firmly.

“He’s not just a classmate, is he?” your dad asked slowly, voice tender in a way you’d never heard it before.

You shook your head.

He approached you two, sizing up Mattheo. Not as a legendary hockey star or a potential player, but as a boy holding his daughter’s hand.

“You’d better be on your best behavior, boy, you hear me?” he grunted, pointing a finger at the taller boy.

Mattheo seemed to be having a hard time focusing on the finger in his face and harsh words directed towards him, but he nodded quickly.

“Goodnight, then,” and your father merely spared you one last knowing glance before stepping around you two and heading towards the stairs.

“I’ll even wear a bloody suit,” Mattheo called to your father’s retreating figure, only receiving a dismissive hand in response.

Once you heard the door to your dad’s bedroom shut in the distance, you turned on Mattheo and threw your arms around his neck.

“That went far better than I expected!” you squealed, feeling his arms come around your waist.

“Shh,” he shushed, pressing his lips to your hair. “I really do like this, baby, but I still feel like I got an anvil dropped on my head.”

You smiled sheepishly into his chest but only tightened your arms around him. “Sorry,” you whispered, feeling one of his hands travel up your side.

“I know how you can make it up to me,” he hummed deeply, reaching for your chin with careful fingers and directing your gaze up to his.

You raised an eyebrow, suspicious. “I thought you were seeing double.”

“I don’t mind seeing two of these,” he brushed a thumb under your bottom lip, smirking. “And I think I know my way around your face with how often I stare at it.”

You swallowed hard at his deep voice vibrating through his chest that pressed against yours, but didn’t pull away when he leaned down so your noses touched.

“One kiss, Mattheo, then you need to rest,” you whispered, lips brushing his dangerously.

“Yes, doc,” he crooned, then finally closed the distance between your lips.

hazza3000

Blood Lines | Theo Nott

pairing: theodore nott x reader.

wc: 6,990

summary: you and theo are academic rivals and spend many days trying to compete with each other with every task, no matter how minuscule. one night you get detention with professor umbridge and she punishes you with the blood quill. after you leave, theo finds you and doesn’t hesitate to show you how much you mean to him.

contains: fluff, little smut, blood, violence, minor injury, badass fmc, sorta hurt/comfort.

hazza speaks: my first fic for theo and hp world! requests are open, not proof read, xo.

• slytherin masterlist || requests

• requests status: open.

~~~

Academic rivals. That what you and Theo are, there is nothing more or less to your relationship. It's simple, platonic and sometimes might not even be considered a relationship with the amount that you two bicker.

Both Slytherin, both extremely competitive, sly and will manipulate the competition to win. The two of you are always on top the best of the best, some argue you should've been a Ravenclaw until they face the wrath that is no doubt come from a Slytherin.

Theo and you are always competing for top marks, constantly knocking each other from the top position, it's been happening for years. So, long in fact you don't even remember how it started, it's just the norm.

Although, the two of you reside in the same friendship groups it doesn't matter, the rivalry is the main part to your somewhat friendship. It's not always about who can garner the highest marks, it used to be, yet now it's somehow merged into more.

Who can run for the longest, who can answer the question first in class, who can smoke the most, who can finish the assignment first, who gains the most praise from their professors, who gets the first mug of coffee.

Sometimes the rivalry can be considered banter, but their friends know that it is so much more. The fact is, Theodore Nott has been in love with you for as long as he can remember, he competes for the top marks to be worthy of you, yet you just thought he was constantly trying to best you.

Yes, he loves the competition and loves when you put him in his place arguably more than winning, yet for someone so smart you never seem to notice. The longing glances, the smirk he gives you when you celebrate your win, the prideful look in his eyes when people talk about you being the best, how he constantly whispers remarks in your ears to watch you get flustered or the subtle eyerolls when you go over the top.

Theo is infatuated with you, yet you never see him like that. You see him as a rival, sometimes friend, sometimes foe. Other people wouldn't even assume you'd be friends if it wasn't for you tight knit and very protective friendship group, that it more family than friends.

So, whilst Theo is desperately in love with you and is constantly competing for your affection you view it as a playful game. You never have any ill feeling towards Theo, you just view it as a bit of fun and Theo doesn't know what's worse. Draco and Mattheo constantly make fun of him for it whilst Pansy and Enzo tell him its sweet.

Although there were times when Theo genuinely annoyed you, you could never hate him, he's your close friend after all, even if at times you pretend that you do.

And Theo, well he doesn't know what's worse.

~~~

It's morning, you've never been a morning person which makes Theo's bright smile being the first thing you see even more irritating. So, far this morning you haven't been able to escape him, not when you snuck some early morning coffee or when you went for a run, he seemed to be there trying to best you.

Although you won't admit it, going for a run with Theo in the morning is arguably your highlight of the day, it's the one time where there is no bickering there is just an understanding between the two of you. Theo knows you hate mornings and he's not stupid enough to rial you up before breakfast.

Yet what you don't realise is that the only reason that he loves mornings is that he gets to see your face, the way you tiredly rub your eyes as you drinking your coffee and sneak in a cigarette or the way that you where those tight fitting shorts swigging on some disgusting smoothie that is supposedly good for 'gut health' or something like that.

Even when your curled up in the common room reading through your notes at a ridiculously early time just to make sure you stay on top— okay maybe he doesn't like that bit as much as he hates the way that you push yourself.

Point is he loves the way that your so unguarded, too tired to care what the world thinks of you until later on. The change between first thing in the morning and how you act during breakfast is marvelling. As soon as you sit down in the great hall the facade is up for the day.

Well, not completely as he watched you comfort Draco this morning during breakfast over an argument he had with Potter about Quidditch or the way you immediately hand over the sweetener for Mattheo because you know he can't cope without his coffee being ridiculously sweet, or the way you share softer moments with Enzo knowing that he struggles sometimes with what entails with being a Slytherin, or hyping Pansy up or even putting up with Blaise's fake macho facade as you know he feels like an extension of the group but most importantly knowing when he's having a bad day and not pushing him too hard.

It's all the things the rest of Hogwarts doesn't see. This softer side to you, the caring one, it's one the world doesn't deserve to see. Everyone views Slytherin as the enemy and your group as the extension of the devil, but you, perfect you are always there to help even though your deemed one of the worst of the bunch.

Theo notices, Theo notices everything and sometimes it's a curse because it just makes him want you even more, yet you never seem to notice. He doesn't understand how someone so observant could miss what's in front of them.

It's when the dark thoughts begin to cloud his judgement, your intelligent, your observant and you notice everything so maybe you just don't care to notice and that hurts all the more.

Your day was going perfectly so far, you beat Theo in potions which is something practically unheard of as it’s his best subject and now your sat in defence of the dark arts with your friends, it’s the one class that you all share together. Although you don't notice Theo's subtle sulking as the two of you nearly always sit next to each other as you constantly try to one up the other, but today Draco has stolen his seat.

So, instead Theo is stuck sitting opposite next to Mattheo of all people, he loves his best friend, but he's not exactly known for caring about his grades. Thus, being one of his favourite classes, due to it being your favourite and how excited you get, is seemingly never ending as he's sat so far from you, missing the attention that is effortlessly being handed to Malfoy.

He can barely hear the professor droning on and on as he stares at you, beautiful you, consuming his whole attention as the mere few feet between you feels too much. You, on the other hand are paying full attention, making sure that you don't miss a thing, and you never miss a trick in your best subject.

Professor Umbridge, the devil herself is one of the worst teachers in your school. You don't hate many people, well okay, you don't hate many professors, but she is one of them. She somehow tries constantly to ruin your favourite subject with her boring drool, making one of your favourite classes less desirable.

Her eyes are sharp and cruel, yet you don't care, not when you spot a mistake and see the opportunity to one up the evil bitch, I mean witch. so, when you notice the factual mistake, you don't think twice about raising your hand and letting her know.

"Excuse me, Professor" Your voice feigning innocence, but Theo notices the smirk gracing your lips.

He knows your hatred for this woman, but he also knows that there isn't something quite right about her either. Theo would never call you stupid, but he begs to you to put your hand down before you get yourself in trouble.

"I do believe that you've made a mistake" as the words fall from your lips Theo's face falls even Mattheo gives you a look, you don't question Umbridge ever.

As the woman's cruel eyes lock onto you, judging your every movement Theo wishes he could grab you and take you away, even Draco nudges your side and shushes you in an attempt to save you from the wrath of this woman.

"Thank you dear, but you are wrong. Don't interrupt me again" Professor Umbridge begins, in an attempt to embarrass you and that is not a good sign as the anger and defiance flairs in your eyes.

"I'm not wrong, I wouldn't suggest it if I thought—" your arguments fall on death ears, or more so a death eaters’ ears, Theo winces.

"See, this is my class, and I know you may think that your special but you’re not. I'm the professor my word is law" Professor Umbridge practically spits the words at you.

Theo's reaches for his wand only for Mattheo to grab his wrist earning him a glare, no one speaks about you in that way, not Umbridge, no one. He watches as you clench your knuckles under the desk as Draco attempts to quieten you fails miserably.

"Well, that's just factually incorrect like your work" you tilt your chin showing defiance, the mean curl of your lip as you glare at the woman in pure hatred.

"I'm not wrong, I am never wrong. You do not get to try and argue with your betters. Your actions and attitude are simply unacceptable" Umbridge leers peering down at you with a look of mania in her eyes.

"Detention. I will see you in my office tonight and perhaps then you'll understand to respect those who hold authority" she snarls, her lip upturned in nothing but disgust before promptly turning on her heel and continuing her lecture.

Before you can utter another word Draco finally hushes you, whispering something in your ear as Theo watches helplessly, by some miracle you finally stay quiet and no longer argue with the psycho woman in front of you, but the damage is already done. His stomach drops whilst you seemingly just groan unbothered by what has just happened.

You can feel Theo's eyes burning into the side of your head, but you can't look at him right now. Assuming he's going to rub the detention in your face and your scathing anger is not helping, no matter what you friend tries to say.

~~~

Evening comes around to quickly for your liking and although Theo has been clinging to you ever since your detention for once he hasn't rubbed it in your face. Dinner in the great hall comes and goes and your friends have to practically pull the Italian off you so you can make your way to Umbridge’s office.

You keep your head held high nonetheless, knowing that this woman is going to inflict something cruel on you, it's just her style. You've seen others leave this office bawling and that will never be you, so you stay calm and collected as you knock on the devil herselfs door.

"Good evening, dear. Please take a seat" she speaks with faux niceness, but the excitement in her tone couldn't be hidden.

You sit down, looking entirely unbothered surrounding the decision. Even if her odd persona and somehow weirder decorate room throws you off you try to keep your act in place.

"You’re going to be writing some lines" Umbridge states, you barely conceal your groan as you reach into your bag to grab your quill, but the professor is quick to grab your arm 'tsking' as she does so.

"Oh, no, you won't be using your own quill. You'll be using my special one" her excitement now is noticeably present as she goes to fetch the quill from her desk.

As soon as she places the piece in front of me, I know that this isn't any ordinary quill, the scent of dark magic is potent. I try not to let my eyes widen as I stare at the quill then back up at the dead look in the woman's eyes.

"I want you to right 'I must respect authority of those better than me'" Umbridge says, and I barely conceal my scoff as I roll my eyes trying to state as polite as possible, yet it seems to only egg the woman on more.

"How many times" I ask wanting to get this over and done with especially as Mattheo and I are supposed to be sparing after this and if I want to fit that in before my late-night smoke with Theo this needs to hurry up.

"As long as it takes for the message to sink into the little brain of yours" her words only seem to anger me more as I try my best to hide it.

"May I have some ink, professor?" I ask only for the woman to let out a short laugh.

"You won't be needing it dear" she simply responds before turning her back to me and sitting on the desk as if she wants to watch this happen closely.

My jaw clenches as I pick up the quill slowly realising what's about to happen. As I begin writing on the fresh piece of parchment the burning pain appears in my palm, just like I suspected, dark magic.

I don't give her the satisfaction of looking at my hand as I already know the words that are appearing on my palm, I must respect authority of those better than me, will no doubt be branded in my skin. A look of annoyance crosses the professors face as she doesn't garner the reaction that she quite clearly wanted.

She should know who my parents are, who their affiliations are with, if she thinks she can scare me with this simple brand of torture then she won't succeed. I can push through this pain, just like I'm trained to do.

The silence that takes over the room is deafening and Umbridge looks furious at the lack of reaction begins to walk over to me. wanting to see at least a hint of pain in my face as I desperately try to school my reaction refusing to give her the satisfaction.

"Is there a problem, dear" Umbridge asks her tone now filled with her anger, teeth gritting together as she forces the words out.

"No, problem professor" I respond but I keep my head down this time, not wanting her to see the look on my face.

"That's right there isn't a problem because you know deep down that you deserve to be punished, isn't that, right?" She asks, needing the upper hand, needing to see the look of defeat.

I know now that if I want to make it out of this office I'm going to have to give in to some extent. So, I swallow my pride giving her a small nod as I continue to write, swallowing my urge to scream, from pain and anger.

~~~

2 and a half pages later, written in your own blood, before she finally releases you. The witch having given you extra lines due to the lack of reaction she got, and she only released you then due to you almost passing out. She asked if you learnt your lesson and although you nodded, she knows she has yet to break you and she will enjoy doing so.

You close the door, barely making it a few steps before having to stop. Sweat beads drop down your pale face as blood drips from your throbbing hand. You briefly look down looking at the words carved in your skin by your own hand, anger and pain flooding your body.

You blink hard refusing to cry, Slytherin's don’t cry. Especially not in a dark hallway, you've not only missed sparing with Mattheo but also your late-night smoke with Theo and you just want to crawl into bed your body feeling drained.

You slide the sleeve of your jumper down, trying to hide your hand and the evidence of what had occurred before continuing to walk. You need to get to your dorm quickly before you pass out.

I'm barely paying attention as I turn the corner that would leave to the Slytherin common room. In fact, I don’t even notice the frantic Italian searching the hallway, looking for you, knowing that you never break routine and that something bad must've happened.

The two of you collide on the fault of you entirely, you land on the floor and Theo immediately begins to scold whoever dared interrupt his searching only to find your pale face looking back at him. He goes to open his mouth for some sort of response but fails as the sight of you makes him feel sick.

I look up at Theo feeling the internal dread because of all people I had to bump into tonight it just had to be him. I watch as he freezes and you want nothing more than to curl up in his arms, to be comforted by the man you want the most but what falls from your lips is something else entirely.

"Watch where you're going Theodore. I don't need to be dealing with your clumsy ass tonight" I spit out, anger still flooding through my veins, but the words come out exhausted.

My attempt of a smirk fails entirely as my lack of energy is present. I don't have the power to go back and forth with him tonight, but I’ll be damned if I don't go down without a fight.

Theo looks hurt, as he bends down quickly wanting to help but he ends up just sitting on the floor in front of me, helpless not knowing what to do and that's somehow worse. It's like he's willing to take my anger as long as he knows I’m alright.

"What's crawled up your ass? Missed me too much because I didn't come to the astronomy tower" I snarl as I attempt to stand but sway immediately causing his arms to wrap around me tightly.

Theo doesn't react. Just holds me close and I feel myself begin to break down a single tear sliding down my face before I quickly brush it away causing blood to smear down my face. I push out of his grip and although it pains him Theo lets me go until he stares at the blood on my face.

His eyes drift downwards to the blood also dripping on the floor and his stomach drops. He immediately goes to move closer as he watches with a pained expression as I move backwards, defence immediately up.

"You're bleeding" Theo states, trying to keep his voice even and calm but the pain is clear as he speaks.

I freeze momentarily before schooling my expression. I pull my sleeve back down not noticing the drying blood on my face as I attempt to walk past him, but Theo has no plans on letting me go.

He may respect my space but there is no way he's allowing you to walk away not when you look like I'm about to pass out and I'm clearly injured.

"Nott, just stop it—" I try to fight but I’m tired and it just falls on deaf ears anyway.

He turns my hand over watching in anger as the blood drips down from my hand the words that are branded into my skin now on full display for him to see. Theo feels sick, he wishes he had done more to stop the detention when he had a chance and now, I’m suffering the consequences.

His chest tightens as he watches as I try to conceal the pain, try to put up the same facade that they are all forced to wear but it won't fly, not with him.

Silence falls between us, my tired eyes looking at his pain filled ones, and I don’t have the energy to try and decipher any of this right now. My head feels light, and I slowly begin swaying on my feet, Theo notices, of course he does.

His arms come around me right away and this time I don't try and push him away.

"What the fuck did she do to you?" He's angry but his voice isn't loud.

No, Theo's fury is quiet and dangerous, the type of guy who you underestimate. You assume he's quiet and calm, but his fury holds no bounds, not when it comes to you, and no one sees him until it’s too late.

I attempt to pull away once more to at least say I tried but his grip remains firm, he doesn't play, not when it comes to you.

"It was just detention. A punishment, we've all had them, hell your best friend has been in them the most" I try to feign in difference, but words are beginning to slur.

I know I need to leave and now, my energy is depleting rapidly, and I don’t have the emotional capacity for this right now, but Theo is an unmoving bolder. He's stubborn and strong willed and he's not one to easily deter.

"I deserved it, it's fine. Don't make it any worse than it already is, I just need to sleep it off" I attempt to plead with him, but it doesn't work.

"Please, Teddy" My voice is quiet and desperate, I hate begging but I’m at my wits end.

Theo lets out a shaky breath as he holds me closer tears gathering in my eyes that I desperately try and push away. You never have to beg not with him but if you think he's leaving you alone your sorely mistaken.

"No, I can't I'm sorry, amore mio" Theo's voice is sincere as he holds me tightly placing a kiss to my head.

"There's no way you're fine, your act might fool most people but not me, never me. Let's get you cleaned up" Theo's speaks softly but there's no room for negotiation.

I don't get the chance to respond or blink before my feet are being swept from underneath me and I'm getting carried to the Slytherin common room. The fight having completely left me.

~~~

Theo's dorm is silent as he finally puts me down, Mattheo is nowhere to be seen. He immediately leads me to the bathroom before closing the door behind him not wanting his best friend to come back early and see me so vulnerable.

"Sit" his voice holds a command as he watches me sway, he motions for the sink knowing it will be the easiest place for him to clean me up.

I stare at him, having expected none of this and I don't know what to do. A part of me wants to run and hide but the other wants me to allow the comfort, to let him help me.

"Please, bambina, let me help you" Theo's voice is soft again, softer than I've heard it in years.

"I can't—" I’m about to admit defeat, as I try to push myself onto the sink by my body is weak, having lost a lot of blood.

Without missing a beat Theo lifts me onto the countertop before turning on the faucet and grabbing a clean cloth. His eyes barely leave my body, scared I'll disappear if he turns his back for too long. he runs the cloth under warm water before turning to me.

"Can I see your hand?" He asks quietly, scared to break the tension in the room.

I hesitate briefly, not wanting to show anyone any weakness, but eventually I lift my hand up. allowing Theo to see the extent of the damage. It's only Theo, I remind myself, trying my best not to allow my fight or flight to kick in.

Theo's jaw clenched as he pulls back my sleeve looking at the bloody cuts marring my skin. His fury is palpable, he will deal with Umbridge later right now he needs to focus on his girl.

He begins to wipe at my skin as the adrenaline finally begins to leave my body. The stinging sensation returns, and I barely hold back a wince as he begins cleaning, Theo notices of course he does.

"Sorry, principessa" Theo, however, doesn't seem to notice the nickname that falls from his lips effortlessly, but I do.

His grip is soft as he wipes the cloth over my skin as gently as possible. He treats me with the up most care and that somehow hurts more than my hand, I don't know how to feel I don’t do emotion like this very well.

"You don't have to do this" I whisper, my voice holding my gratitude as I don't know what else to say.

I bite down on my lower lip not being able to look at him anymore, the pain in my chest begins as the faint feeling fades. Theo looks up a deep frown forming on his face, there's nothing that Theo hates about me, but the way that you look after others and never allow anyone to help you is something that is close.

"I don't do anything I don't want to do" Theo says sincerely, he places a hand on my chin forcing to look at me.

"Contrary to your own belief, you don't deserve this" Theo begins, addressing something that no one else in the group would dare too.

"That woman is fucking insane, and she will be dealt with later, but right now I need to know that you don't think that this is okay" Theo's voice holds his emotion, laying it bare for me to see.

I feel overwhelmed, yet somehow okay. I shrug not wanting to think about this right now, not with my body so weak.

"Why are you even helping me?" I ask trying to change the subject.

Theo's frustration is evident with the topic change, as he reaches into the cabinet for a bandage. His movements are precise and careful, I almost think he's avoiding the question before he finally speaks up.

"I'm supposed to say it's not a big deal, right?" Theo begins, looking at me with a look I can now finally place, one that I never could before because I've never seen it…

Love.

"I'm sure it isn't—" I attempt to shrug off the emotion not sure if I can deal with the change in friendship as I flex my now fully bandaged hand.

"Well, it is a big deal to me. It's not about me needing to keep the competition in good shape it’s because the love of my life is hurting, and I did nothing to stop it" Theo speaks honestly.

The truth is now out in the open and Theo doesn't know what I'm going to say, he looks into my eyes searching for something and when he finds it relief seems to settle.

"Theo, I care about you too but—" but Theodore doesn't want to hear any more excuse not now, not when anything could've happened tonight not when everything is so fresh.

Theo shuts me up with a searing kiss. His mouth is warm, and he smells like bonfires, expensive aftershave and spearmint. It sucks all the excuses out of me, rendering me dizzy. His body feels strong, hard and foreign yet so familiar. I mould into him my arms wrapping around him like an octopus.

He darted the tip of his tongue out, parting my lips. When I opened them eagerly, his satisfaction reverberated in my stomach. I knew I should put an end to this; to not mess up the group dynamics but I’m selfish, I’ve wanted this for too long and when he cupped the back of my neck to deepen the kiss I was gone. His tongue fully in my mouth now, exploring the grounds like it was conquering every inch.

The bite of freshness from his spearmint gum filled me with the tinge of smoke lingering from his panicked smoke earlier when he failed to find me. He tasted delicious, applying just the right amount of pressure.

Just like that, the excuses from earlier paired with my stony exterior melted into the passion, fire and depraved promise for things he didn’t know if he could handle. He's waited so long for this and now that he’s got it, it almost feels like too much and as if it would never be enough.

His cock aches as he tries to remember if anything he’d ever done has delt like this before. He knew the answer was no and it would never feel like this again unless I will let him in. Theo feels as if he’s in completely knew territory, uncharted waters that makes him want to dive in. He’s kissed people and fucked around a fair few, but nothing could compare to this.

A whimper escapes between us, and I don’t know if it came from me or him as I yank the collar of his shirt, my tongue chasing his. I’m not thinking about the future just me and him right here right now.

My hands roam the sleeves of his shirt, clutching the expensive material and sinewy muscles beneath it. Theo has an athletic build without looking bulky, Lord, he was beautiful. Cold smooth and imperial as marble as if somebody breathed just enough soul into a Roman statue to make it move.

Theo only meant for it to be a small kiss, a promise for later when I was healed up, but neither of us are willing to pull away, to stop devouring each other. My once shaking hands begin to roam, reaching under his shirt to outline the ridge of his six-pack. Theo groans into the kiss, the thought of waiting completely leaving him as my hands venture downwards. Wait until Pansy hears about this, she’s going to cry horny tears.

Theo pushes me against the mirror wrapping my hair around his hand as he tugs, the kiss begins to turn rough, more lustful but not less passionate. Theo tugs harder causing a moan to slip through my lips as he deepens our kiss. His erection digs into my thought, pulsating with heart and need.

A thrill shoots down my spine, but a wince falls from my lips as my arm gets knocked in the process. Theo stops immediately, worry swimming in his eyes as he pulls back, as if remembering why we were here in the first place. His hands soften in my hair, his forehead resting against mine placing a softer kiss to my lips.

“We should–“ Theo takes in a sharp breath; my hands tighten in his hair gripping him tightly in warning before my nails caress his scalp.

His grip tightens momentarily as he tries to collect himself, but the truth is Theo is ruined, he can’t go back to being friends, academic rivals or whatever the fuck you wanted to call them. He’s selfish and he wants this all to himself, no one else should get to experience this. However, he can wait, he needs to have control–

Yet he feels it slipping as if unravelling him comes naturally to me, he’d never put me in danger, but he can also never say no to me. Not now, not ever.

“I don’t want to hurt you, bambina” Theo’s voice cracks as he tries to calm down.

“You won’t, you can’t” I whisper back, not wanting to think of the multiple meanings to that sentence.

I move my hands down clawing at his shirt, I was not about to stop now, this has been going on for too long. The tension in the room grows thick enough that you couldn’t find a spell strong enough to cut through it. I know Theo cares and it’s one of the things I love about him but right now he’s going to fuck me here.

“We can continue later, when your-your, healed” Theo stumbles over his words as I lean forward moving his hands downwards getting a handful of my ass.

I guide him further down spreading my legs further, moving his index finger to slip under my sheer tights so he can feel the top of lace panties, a groan breaks free from his lips. His hands now touching being able to feel the heat of my skin, his grips my ass unable to stop himself as I swoop forward placing another kiss to his lips.

“Or we can continue this now…” I whisper seducing him in closer, my lips brushing his once again, “I mean who knows if this will happen again?”

Theo feels his need increasing, oh it’s happening again because he’s sure as shit not letting anyone else come near me, not now, not ever. This is it for Theo and he knows deep down I feel the same way.

“Oh, it’s happening again. You think I’m letting you go now, principessa” Theo’s voice deepens, his Adam’s apple bopping as he swallows, possessiveness swirling in his eyes.

“You sound so sure” I tease, leaning back slightly to stop his lips from actually touching mine, “How about you either fuck me against this counter or I find someone else who can.”

Theo’s anger presents himself as his hand shoves between my legs covering my heated centre with his palm, he squeezes hard. Possessiveness, jealousy and everything in between swirling through his green iris’s. He knows that I’m testing him, knowing exactly which buttons to press to get what I want.

He shouldn’t give in, key word is shouldn’t, but Theo can’t stop himself from biting.

“That’s never fucking happening” Theo all but growls as he pulls me into a searing kiss earning a smug smile to grace my lips, “I really ought to fuck the sass out of you, you and your smart mouth.”

Theo only swears when he’s really angry, more than heated and somehow that turns me on even more. I arch my back into him as I plaster myself into his hand, searching for more contact.

“Mmm. Sounds good to me” I try to sound cocky, but it comes out more breathless than planned.

I never normally melt for a man as I value control too much, but Theo makes me lose it and I know I do the same to him as he strokes my slit through my panties, drawing an oval around it with his fingers without really touching it. His touch is unhurried, fleeting, and designed to drive me wild, my panties dampen.

Sweet torture, it’s amazing really, the effect he has over me, one that I tried to desperately hide but am completely failing to now.

“Only I can make you feel this way, Tesoro, only me.”

Theo doesn’t let me answer as he kisses me and has graduated to trying to drive me nuts by stroking my pussy. He soon pulls back wanting to stare down at me, to watch as he drives me insane. I should walk away, knowing that if I don’t soon, I won’t ever be able to because he’s right.

“Yours.”

As soon as those words leave my lips Theo’s resolve breaks and he no longer holds back, he pulls me in closer and tighter. Our tongues fighting for dominance, yet for once neither of us care about winning. I begin tugging at the bottom of his shirt and he soon gets the message quickly yanking it over his head, ripping the shirt in process as he refuses to stop to do buttons, before rushing back as if I was his oxygen, as if he couldn’t breathe without me.

His hand move, this time over my chest unbuttoning my shirt, his hands rough yet delicate when they come to me a stark contrast to the state of his shirt on the floor. We’re so lost in the moment, my shirt slowly slipping down off my shoulder revealing the matching lace.

Another groan falls from Theo’s lips, he’s sure he died and went to heaven because nothing has ever felt like this before. His lips move to my neck, biting down hard as he leaves open mouthed kisses that gradually go lower.

My head falls back against the mirror hand gripping his hair as he moves down my chest. Eyes shutting as I lose myself in the moment almost completely until a noise brings my awareness back, but it wasn’t from Theo know he’s lost in his own world sucking in my scent as he literally sucks on my chest. I force my eyes open, a gasp in shock falls from my lips as my eyes meet another brown pair—

Mattheo, who is stood in the doorway looking way to smug as he watches his best friend ravage his other best friend. Theo pulls away worried he’s done something wrong as he feels my body tense and not in a good way. His head swivels around following my line of sight and anger floods his chest immediately.

He quickly stands pulling my shirt closed, Theo doesn’t share, and Mattheo isn’t seeing anything of his girl’s chest. He yanks my shirt closed shouting profanities in Italian at Mattheo who looks way to smug right now.

“Mattheo, get the fuck out you fottuto stronzo, prima che ti uccida” Theo slips into Italian as he screams at Mattheo.

“Relax, Theo. She’s all yours, I was just trying to come home after having to train on my own” Mattheo states as his eyes drift between us.

“Sorry Matty, got caught up with something” I say trying to break the tension as my hands run through Theo’s hair causing him to turn to me with a smile.

“Got caught up or– “Mattheo begins about to tease until he sees the glare now sporting on both of our faces.

“GET OUT!”

Mattheo takes his leave but we both know it’s not going to be for long as he actually does need to shower and go to bed, the moment now broken, yet not ruined as Theo’s eyes finally turn to look at mine when he hears the bedroom door close. His hands loosening in my shirt yet not willing to let go not yet.

“Y/n, I–“ I cut Theo of with a kiss not willing to let him finish his sentence, not wanting him to have to say it twice.

“I love you too, Theo” I speak softly against his lips, earning a rare smile because it’s a real smile from Theo.

There’s no point in hiding it anymore, he’s got the love of his life in his arms admitting that she loves him too and that’s enough for Theo. He doesn’t need anything else, just this, always this.

And by the time Mattheo got back he found the happy couple sound asleep in rumpled sheets, fortunately completely clothed. A soft smile finds his lips as he watches Theo pull his girl closer in his sleep, glad that his friends finally found each other.

nottsangel-rip

blood moon — t.n. & m.r. part 2

pairing: dark!theo nott x reader x dark!mattheo riddle.

warnings: smut 18+, dubcon, violence, blood/bloodplay, knifeplay (carving into skin, cutting off clothes), threesome, painal, double penetration (vaginal and anal sex), stockholm syndrome, cigarette play and branding, mask kink, hair pulling, face slapping, degradation, spanking, threats of murder, creampie. do NOT read if any of these topics are triggering for you.

word count: 4.5k. THIS IS A REUPLOAD

summary: purge night— a night you’ve feared all year despite coming from a rich and powerful family. but when six masked men show up at your door, are you really as safe as you thought?

PART 1. the purge au… moodboard

“What the fuck is going on here?”

Even muffled by the mask, you instantly recognised the voice. Mattheo. The same Mattheo you’d heard downstairs earlier— the same Mattheo you did not want to find you. Not after the way he’d been yelling that you were going to die.

“You fucking pervert.” He chuckled, striding into the room with an air of confidence and carelessness. He swung the baseball bat over his shoulder, dark red blood splattering across your once-pristine white walls. His gaze flickered between you, still on your knees, and Theo— who stood frozen, his cock still out.

•18+ Adults Only

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nottsangel-rip

blood moon — t.n. & m.r. part 1

pairing: dark!theodore nott x fem!reader x dark!mattheo riddle. (mattheo makes his appearance in pt2)

warnings: smut 18+, dubcon, breaking and entering, violence, blood, knives (cutting into skin), rough oral sex (m. receiving), mask kink, mentions of murder, swearing

word count: 4k

summary: purge night— a night you’ve feared all year despite coming from a rich and powerful family. but when six masked men show up at your door, are you really as safe as you thought?

PART 2. the purge au… moodboard

“This is not a test, this is your Emergency Broadcast System. Announcing the commencement of the annual purge sanctioned by the Government. Weapons of class four and lower have been authorised for use during the purge; all other weapons are restricted. Commencing at the siren, any and all crime (including murder) will be legal for 12 continuous hours. Police, fire, and Emergency Medical services will be unavailable until tomorrow morning at 7:00 a.m, when the purge concludes. Blessed be our new founding fathers—”

“Blah, blah, blah… we get it. Same shit every year.” Pansy sighed dramatically through the phone, her tone dripping with annoyance. You could tell she was rolling her eyes, and you didn’t need to see her to know she was slouched lazily somewhere.

mattyriddlesbitch

now imagine a one-shot… y/n is mattheo’s girlfriend and tom keeps touching her in passing (i.e. brushing his hand against her thigh, twirling a strand of her hair, etc) until she finally asks mattheo what his deal is. and he just responds saying he shares everything with his big brother, even in the bedroom. and then it leads to the nastiest threesome imaginable.

Sharing Is Caring

Mattheo Riddle x F!Reader x To Riddle

Warnings: unprotected sex, oral sex(male receiving), anal, threesome, double penetration, cussing

18+ Minors DNI!

mattyriddlesbitch

HELLO I’m so glad to see your still writing after all the bullshit life has put you through and honestly your motivation to keep writing despite how busy you probably are is actually inspiring.

I absolutely adored fwb Mattheo and was wondering if you could write another more spicy one of he and reader sneaking around and almost getting caught?

TYYYYYYYY 🫶🫶

Thank you so much for the kind words! I know this took forever to get to, but I hope you enjoy!

Almost Caught

Mattheo Riddle x F!Reader

Warnings: unprotected sex, public sex, cussing

18+ Minors DNI!

preeewrites

Not going anywhere

Summary: A bright, stubborn Hufflepuff refuses to stay away from the cold, guarded Mattheo Riddle.

Slow burn. Tension. Hidden softness.

9.9k words sheesh I don’t know when to stop :’)

—————————————————————————

The Great Hall buzzed with the usual morning chaos, owls swooping low over tables, the clatter of silverware, and the low hum of gossip that never quite died down at Hogwarts.

Sunlight filtered through the enchanted ceiling, casting a soft golden glow over the Hufflepuff table where you sat, though your eyes were already drifting toward the Slytherin side.

Mattheo Riddle was there, as always, lounging in his seat like the hall belonged to him.

Dark curls slightly tousled, uniform tie loose in that deliberate way that screamed I don’t give a fuck, and an expression that could freeze fire.

He hadn’t looked your way once. He never did, not really.

You didn’t care.

Grabbing a fresh apple from the bowl, you wove through the crowd with the easy confidence of someone who had done this a hundred times.

A few Hufflepuffs shot you curious glances, saying “again?” but you just smiled brightly and kept going. You weren’t afraid of him. Never had been. There was something beneath that cold exterior, something sharp and broken and real.

“Morning, Mattheo,” you said cheerfully, sliding into the empty seat beside him without waiting for an invitation. You placed the apple in front of him, perfectly polished. “They had the good ones today. Thought you might want it before Theo hogs them all.”

lexamiele

Blaise x No More Tears!Reader Headcanons

I've gotten multiple requests for a part 2 <3 and I haven't been able to stop thinking about No More Tears since I wrote it so here are some ideas hehe, if any of these resonate lmk and I'll try to incorporate them into the final product!

(This post does reference the original fic heavily so if you haven't read it yet I would recommend reading it first here)

Literally the second you leave the Slytherin common room in the morning, Blaise finds your ex and threatens him like he's never been threatened before

"Do not look at her, do not talk to her, do not think about her. Understood?"

Blaise is determined to make sure that he never bothers you again

As soon as the other Slytherin boys see Blaise interact with you, they can tell how down bad he is for you

(They could tell even before your breakup just by how bad Blaise couldn't stand your ex lolol)

They tease him about it at first ofc, but they never give you a hard time when you come around

Pansy and Daphne are thrilled, literally over the moon to have another girl to hang out with

•18+ Adults Only

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lexamiele

No More Tears

Blaise Zabini x Reader

Word count: approx. 4.7k

Summary: after you catch your boyfriend cheating, his worst enemy finds you crying in an empty classroom.

Warnings/be aware: fem!reader, reader being cheated on (not by Blaise), very light enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort, soft!Blaise, cuddling

The day had started out so well.

You’d woken up before your alarm had even gone off, feeling refreshed and up early enough to watch the sun rise over the Black Lake. Then you’d had your favorite, French toast, for breakfast and walked to Charms with your boyfriend, Ernie. Not only were you called on in both Charms and Herbology, but you answered every question right, earning twenty points for Ravenclaw in total. Next, you had Divination, where Professor Trelawney let you sit next to your best friend, Padma Patil. Finally, you finished out your perfect day with Potions, another class with Ernie. It was like a dream.

That was where it all started to fall apart.

papercorgiworld

No date for the bully

Enzo Berkshire and Mattheo Riddle

The Slytherin gang mock you after class, but when you run into one of them alone a few days later they aren’t mocking you anymore… rather they are flirting with you.

Thanks for the request and to all those reading: thanks for reading. Happy readings! and lots of love to you all! 💛

Someone requested a part 2, you can read it here.

Warning: bullying

“This is a question first years can answer, miss (y/l/n).” Snape snares, looking not only angry and annoyed but also seriously disappointed. Your mouth opens, but closes again. Telling him that you probably knew the answer, but were in fact daydreaming and missed the question was probably not a good comeback in Snape’s book. Aside from the fact that you felt the whole class stare at you, there was a particular group of Slyterins really enjoying your screw up. You could hear them snickering, but chose to ignore them.

However as soon as class ends the lot becomes unavoidable. “And here I thought Weasley was the dumbest in our year. Turns out I was wrong… It’s you.” Theodore Nott laughs as he passes you. You roll your eyes and quietly gather your books. “You have to actually read those to learn. You do know that, right?” Mattheo Riddle raises his eyebrows and you look away, trying to pass Mattheo. “She can’t read!” Draco snorts, finding himself really funny. But you huff and just try to get past Mattheo. “And apparently she can’t speak either.” Mattheo grins down at you, purposely blocking your way out. “Guys leave her alone.” Enzo intervenes and you’re both surprised and relieved, but it doesn’t last long. “She’s obviously a bit slow.” Enzo quips.

“You’re all hilarious.” You manage to mutter as you use all your force to shove Mattheo aside. “What a comeback.” You hear Enzo laugh at your attempt at self defence.

***

“Move aside, dumb and dumber!” Draco snares at Ron and you, followed by a smirking Theodore as you jump.

“Ugh, why are they all like that?” You think out loud and Ron shrugs. “Because they’re evil Slytherins.” You chuckle at Ron’s answer, before parting at the stairs. “See you after potions.” You wave at Ron and walk around the corner, straight into…

Enzo.

“I’m so sorry.” You apologise immediately, but when you look up to see who you collide with your eyes widen. Sure he would hex you or at least insult you.

“No worries, I wasn’t watching where I was going either. You alright, princess?” No worries? Princess? “Yeah, I’m fine.” You whisper, not at all comfortable with this nice version of Lorenzo Berkshire. You move to walk past him, but he grabs your arm. “Let me help you with those.” Enzo points at the books you were holding. “No, I’m fine.” You answer without even considering his offer, obviously you would never get them back. He and his friends played mean games like that all the time.

“Oh come on, let me help. It will give me an excuse to walk you to class.” Enzo’s smile was adorable, he really was hoping to spend some time with the pretty girl he had been crushing on for months now.

“No.” You state dryly and hurry up the stairs. “Wow, you’re quick.” Enzo chuckles as he catches up with you. “Ha, that’s funny.” You snort, rolling your eyes. “Why?” Enzo asks, obviously not remembering what an ass he had been a few days earlier. “Oh, right. You insult people all the time so you probably don’t remember calling me ‘slow’.” An awkward laugh leaves the slytherin’s lips. Oh boy, she remembers. I fucked up. “Me and the guys were just having a laugh.” You again quicken your pace, not in a mood to listen to his lame excuses, but he keeps up. “Yes, you were having a laugh. I was not. I was being mocked by four pompous shits.”

Enzo jumps in front of you to bring you to a halt. You avoid his gaze, but he ignores your hints of annoyance and moves close to you. “Maybe not my best moment… but how about I buy you a drink as an apology.” Un-be-lievable! “You’re joking, right?” You look up and raise an eyebrow at Enzo, who gives you a weak half smile. “Come on, it will be fun… I’ll pay.” The audacity of this man. “Enzo Berkshire, are you asking me out?” Enzo laughs nervously as he looks down at his feet for a second. “I know I haven’t made the best impression, but I think you’re beautiful and smart and… I think that you should give me a chance.”

Enzo’s starry eyes meet yours again as he closes the distance and carefully snakes an arm around you, convinced his charm, popularity and good looks would win you over. You reach for his tie, playing with it as you lick your lips. “You think I should give you a chance?” Enzo nods, adoring how adorable you are, playing with his tie and looking all flustered. Just as Enzo is about to whisper something flirty you let go of the tie and push him away hard, making him stumble back a few steps. “I’m sorry Enzo, but you must be a bit slow, considering you haven’t caught on to the fact that I don’t like bullies like you. So go try and convince someone else to ‘give you a chance’.”

Enzo is absolutely shocked and just stares at you as you walk to class. He’s so crushed and confused that he doesn’t notice everyone else in the hallway looking at him. When he finally does notice, he straightens his tie and forces a smile. He tries to come up with something funny to say to make the awkwardness surrounding him go away, but his mind is still stuck on you.

Mattheo.

You stumble back, missing a step, but an arm wraps around your waist. “Careful there, love, you almost fell for me.” Your brain can’t process that it’s actually Mattheo’s voice you’re hearing until you see his signature smirk. “I’m-I’m sorry.” You whisper and look away from him, but his arm stays around you. “Don’t worry about it, I like saving pretty girls like you.” Your eyebrows knit together. Did Mattheo Riddle just flirt with me? A cocky wink answers the question you never asked.

“I’m sorry, but I’ve got to be going.” Mattheo nods. “Let me guess, potions? I’ll walk you. Make sure you don’t stumble and fall.” Why is he being nice? Mattheo shoves his hands in his pockets as he walks with you. There’s an uncomfortable silence as you nervously watch him from the corner of your eyen, not trusting the Slytherin at all.

“Soooo, I’m curious. If I were to ask you out, where should I take you?” You stop to stare at Mattheo, but you don’t say a word since you really have no idea what is going on in his head. “You’re really cute when you stare so quietly.” Mattheo whispers his soft eyes meeting yours. However, you just shake your head. “Last time I fell silent you didn’t think it was cute. You and your dumb friends mocked me.” Mattheo runs a nervous hand through his hair. “Not my best moment.” Mattheo admits sheepishly, making you frown at how he downplays his bullying.

Not planning on spending another second in this idiot’s presence, you start walking again, but Mattheo doesn’t let you go very far. He reaches for your wrist and pulls you into him. You place a hand on his chest to steady yourself. “I was a bit of an idiot, but let’s just forget about that.” Mattheo whispers suggestively. “I promise I will make it up to you.” Mattheo adds when you don’t seem convinced.

Now it was your time to play.

You move your hand from his chest to the back of his neck. “And how would you make it up to me?” You ask, playing with his hair and almost making his eyes roll back. “Obviously I will spoil you rotten both on our date as well as afterwards.” You bite your lip at his words and press your chest against his. “That actually sounds tempting.” You whisper in his ear, letting your free hand trace his belt just to tease him. “Maybe we can just skip the date and find ourselves a broom closet right now.” Mattheo offers, confident that he has you wrapped around his finger. “We could.” You move your lips close to his, but just as Mattheo closes his eyes wanting to meet your lips you pull away. “Then again, I would rather sit through potions class and walk through hell than go out with you. Bye Matt.”

And just like that Mattheo was left standing in the hallway, horny and needy for you, but nowhere near a date with you.

“Auch.” Mattheo immediately recognises Pansy’s amused voice. “Did you really think that after being an ass to her for months, a few minutes of smooth talk would get you with her?” Mattheo lets his head fall and sighs. “Pansy. How long have you been lurking?” Pansy just grins. “Long enough to see you make a fool out of yourself. Have fun simping for the girl that hates your guts.” Mattheo growls as Pansy walks away. I screwed this up so bad. How am I gonna win her over…

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