Theodore Nott x FEM! Playboy Reader 1.9K words

Warning: Smut +18 MDI, Rough sex, p in v, cowgirl, Theo calls reader Bunny, mirror sex, Wrap it before you tap it.

The club didn’t quiet after midnight.

If anything, it sharpened; like a blade honed by champagne and anticipation. The kind of edge that came when the night tipped from celebration into indulgence. The countdown was over, the resolutions already forgotten, and what remained was desire stripped of pretense.

The music slowed, sinking deeper into the walls, basslines rolling low and steady like a heartbeat. Champagne bottles disappeared, quietly replaced with crystal tumblers filled with darker liquor the kind poured only for men whose names were recognized without introduction. Men who didn’t wait in lines. Men who didn’t hear the word no unless it was dressed up as something else.

Y/n felt the shift immediately. It pressed against her skin, crawled up her spine, settled somewhere just beneath her ribs.

"Tell me you're not seriously considering him," Pansy hissed, her manicured nails digging into Y/n's bare shoulder as she dragged her behind the velvet curtain separating the main floor from the staff corridor. The bassline throbbed through the walls, vibrating against Y/n's spine.

She tilted her head, watching Theo Nott through the gap in the fabric. He was lounging against the bar, swirling dark liquor in his glass while Draco Malfoy whispered something that made his lips curl. Theo's thumb stroked the condensation on his tumbler in slow, purposeful circles.

"Mother's going to skin you alive if she catches you breaking house rules again," Pansy warned.

Y/n adjusted her corset, fingers lingering where the black satin strained against her ribs. "Keyholders get privileges."

"Not that privilege."

The champagne bubbles in her veins popped as Theo's gaze locked onto her through the curtain. He didn't smile. Just took a slow sip, eyes darkening when her tongue darted out to wet her bottom lip.

Pansy groaned. "You're impossible."

The music shifted; something low and pulsing that made the crystal glasses tremble. Theo set down his drink without breaking eye contact and crooked a finger.

Y/n's thighs pressed together instinctively. 

"He knows we can't—"

"He knows exactly what he's doing," Y/n breathed, already stepping forward. The rulebook burned in her in the back of her mind. Rule #3: No physical contact beyond escorted dances. Rule #7: Absolutely no private rooms before 3AM.

Theo turned toward the hallway leading to the VIP lounges, his hand slipping into his pocket. “Private room,” he said casually, voice smooth, conversational like he was asking her to pass the salt.

Her heart kicked hard against her chest.

“You know the rules,” she replied, keeping her tone light even as her grip tightened on the tray in her other hand.

Theo’s mouth curved into something knowing. “I also know which ones bend.”

Across the room, Pansy caught the exchange instantly. One dark brow lifted, sharp and assessing, before her gaze softened just enough to convey concern. She mouthed the words clearly.

Five minutes. Be careful.

Y/n inhaled slowly, deeply the way she’d been trained to do. The way Bunnies learned to breathe through nerves, through discomfort, through moments that could tip either way.

Then she nodded once.

The VIP private rooms sat just beyond the velvet curtain, insulated from the club’s pulse by thick walls and intention. Everything back there was designed for privacy soundproofing, dim lighting, furniture chosen more for impression than comfort.

Theo dismissed the others with a look alone.

Draco caught it immediately, giving a short nod before turning away, already calculating what this meant. Blaze muttered something under his breath amused, resigned while Lorenzo grinned openly, like he’d just won a bet no one else knew had been placed.

Mattheo lingered.

His eyes flicked between Theo and Y/n, something unreadable passing across his face before he finally stepped back and shut the door behind him with a soft, final click.

Silence settled.

Not empty silence weighted silence. The kind that made every breath feel louder.

The private room smelled of expensive cigars and spilled whiskey. Theo leaned against the lacquered table, already loosening his tie. The simple act felt intimate in a way it had no right to be, and Y/n hated how sharply her pulse responded.

She should stop this. Should push him away. Should—

“You realize,” she said lightly, folding her arms to ground herself, “this is technically illegal in Bunny terms.”

Theo leaned back against the edge of the table, posture relaxed, entirely at ease like a man who’d never once been caught unprepared.

“You’re allowed to be here with me.”

She raised a brow. “Because you’re a C1 Keyholder?”

“Because,” he corrected, pushing off the table and stepping closer, “the club wants men like me happy.”

She let out a soft laugh, the sound more breath than humor. “You sound dangerously sure of yourself.”

“I am.” His gaze dipped brief, unmistakable to her lips before returning to her eyes. “But not careless.”

That mattered more than he knew.

“You disappear back here with me,” she said quietly, lowering her voice, “and every Bunny Mother on staff will be watching. Every move. Every second.”

“Let them.” His tone softened, losing its edge. “I won’t touch what isn’t offered.”

The room felt smaller then as if the walls had shifted inward, narrowing the space until it existed only for the two of them.

He stopped a breath away from her.

Close enough that she could feel the warmth of him, smell his cologne beneath the sharper notes of liquor and velvet. His hands stayed visible at his sides, open, restrained and somehow that restraint was worse than anything reckless would’ve been.

“You looked incredible tonight,” he said quietly. “Not the costume though that too. You.”

Her throat tightened despite herself. “Flattery won’t save you,” she murmured.

“Good,” he replied just as softly. “I wasn’t trying to be saved.”

She stepped closer on her own this time. Her fingers ghosted over his wrist not quite holding, not quite letting go. Electricity sparked where skin nearly met, contained but undeniable. “Five minutes,” she reminded him, voice steady even as her heart raced.

“Then I’ll make them count.”

The clock on the wall ticked loud in the quiet.

Theo leaned down, brushing a kiss against her temple. Restrained. Careful. Intimate in a way that promised far more than it gave. Her breath caught before she could stop it. His voice was low at her ear. “After tonight,” he said, “things get complicated.”

She smiled dangerous and soft all at once. “They already are.”

Another second passed.

Another breath.

He spun her around, pressing her chest-first into the mirror. His breath scorched the nape of her neck. "Look," he ordered, fingers hooking under the garter straps. The elastic snapped against her thigh. "See what I see."

The satin split with a sound like tearing skin. His knuckles grazed the wet heat between her legs, dragging a moan from her throat as the first chime faded. "Four minutes left," he growled against her pulse. "Let's hear you beg."

She gasped as his fingers slid between her thighs; no teasing, no mercy stroking her clit with punishing precision while his other hand twisted into her hair. The mirror fogged with every panting breath, her reflection smearing into something wanton and unrecognizable. "Theo—"

"Louder." His teeth sank into her shoulder as he thrust two fingers inside, curling them just right. Her knees buckled. The glass trembled against her palms.

The final chime rang out as she came with his name on her lips, but his grip only tightened. "Wrong answer," he murmured, dragging her back against his cock. "We're just getting started."

Her knees hit the carpet first, the rabbit ears on her headband brushing his belt buckle as she freed him no teasing, just hungry lips sliding down his length in one filthy glide. He hissed when she hollowed her cheeks, her tongue swirling over the head before taking him deeper, gagging slightly as he hit the back of her throat.

Theo watched from above, pupils blown black as he fisted her hair, guiding her pace with brutal precision. "See what you do?" he growled, thumb smearing her ruined lipstick. "Fucking perfect." 

She moaned around him when his hips jerked forward, choking her on his cock before pulling back only to shove her onto her back, her stockings ripping as he dragged her legs over his shoulders. "Now," he said, lining himself up, "let's make you scream."

The first thrust tore her apart; no prep, no patience. His cock splitting her open so deep she sobbed. Theo didn't slow, didn't soften, just pistoned into her with a relentless rhythm that had her nails clawing at the carpet. "That's it," he snarled, fingers bruising her hips. "Take it."

Her orgasm hit like a punch, clenching around him as he fucked her through it, his own release slamming into her moments later hot and thick filling her until she trembled. He didn't pull out, just collapsed over her, teeth grazing her collarbone.

She felt the imprint of the carpet on her back, the sweat cooling between her breasts, his heartbeat wild against her ribs. His fingers traced the ruined lace of her garter belt, voice rough: "Still think it’s illegal?" 

The door creaked open, Pansy’s voice floated through the door, amused but pointed. “Time.”

Theo stepped back immediately, composure snapping back into place like armor. But his eyes burned bright, intent, unresolved.

He adjusted his cufflinks, smoothed his jacket, and smiled as though nothing had happened at all. “Happy New Year, Bunny.”

Y/n smoothed her gloves, pulse still racing. “Happy New Year, Theo.”

When she opened the door, the noise of the club rushed back in laughter, music, and movement, swallowing the moment whole.

I'm getting back into writing after several months. Happy New Year, my lovely Bees <3 🌼🐝

Tags for Theo:

@ladyblablabla, @idontknowwhattosaylmao , @clairesjointshurt