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

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

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

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

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

Hope my sweet smut sluts liked this one💋

Not much later, the ominous, bone-chilling sirens blared violently through the entire city, blasting through the walls and echoing in the still-empty streets. The all so familiar sound never failed to give you goosebumps all over your stiffened body, instantly raising your heartbeat. You briefly closed your eyes, trying to steady your racing heart as you struggled to control your shaky breathing. 

“Hellooo? Are you still there or have you been murdered already?” Pansy joked with a taunting laugh. Your eyes snapped open, her static-filled voice dragging you back to reality, and her humorous tone nearly making you forget the reality of this cruel night. 

Because it wasn’t just any regular night— it was Purge Night. The one night you’d been dreading all year, every year, in which all crime becomes legal for twelve long hours. Logically, you were well aware that you had nothing to fear. Your parents were successful entrepreneurs with plenty of money to afford the most advanced security equipment, keeping you safe from any outside danger.

Yes, to protect you, and only you. Not them— they were out at a purge party, the details of which you didn’t even want to know, shamelessly networking with other high-profile elites while the poor were brutally murdered in the streets surrounding them. Everything about this night gave you a sickening feeling in your stomach. But of course, you knew it would be fine. All you had to do was survive— survive in your mansion, surrounded by unbreachable security. Nothing was going to happen. 

“Yeah, yeah, very funny.” you responded, your voice tinged with irritation as you hurried from your bedroom down the wooden stairs to the security room, figuring that if you could check the cameras around the house, it might calm you down a bit. You couldn’t shake the feeling of needing to tiptoe carefully down each step, as though someone might hear you— which was ridiculous, considering how large and heavily secured the house was. 

The eerily quiet house was broken by the first distant, chilling screams of pure terror from outside, making you grimace as you opened the creaky door to the small room, your eyes instantly squinting at the many bright screens that made your eyes burn. 

“It’s just… I hope this night will be over soon, that’s all.” you continued, one hand holding the phone close to your ear while your eyes fleetingly scanned over the security cameras, which were strategically placed to cover every corner outside the house. 

“Oh please, don’t be such a scaredy-cat! Every year it goes just fine, so this year will be no different. When has anything…” Pansy chattered in her usual attempt to comfort you, completely unaware that her words were only doing the opposite, when her voice slowly faded away into the background and your eyes narrowed at one of the top-right screens, which was focused on your front door. What the fuck?

With your heart nearly pounding out of your chest and your hand shakily gripping the phone, you inched closer to the screen, moving as slowly as possible, almost as if the slowness would somehow alter the nightmare playing out before you. A sudden coldness washed over you, your eyes rapidly blinking. No, no, no… this can’t be happening. 

On the pixelated, dark screen, you saw six masked men standing in front of your door, their heads tilted as they stared right at the cameras. You felt lightheaded, your left hand reaching up to lightly clasp your throat, the panic threatening to overwhelm you once you noticed the various weapons they were holding— baseball bats, knives, axes, and god knows what else.

“P—pansy… I, uh… there are people standing in front of my door…” you stammered shakily, still staring at the screen, your body frozen in place with your hand gripping the phone so tightly that your knuckles turned white and your breathing became ragged and uneven. 

“Oh, they’re probably just trying to scare you, babe. I mean, come on, they can’t even come in for fuck’s sake!” she let out a mocking laugh as the chaotic thoughts in your head raced a hundred miles an hour, leaving you paralysed with uncertainty. 

“Pansy, what the fu— you know what? Forget it.” you snapped, your trembling fingers tapping frantically at the screen before finally ending the call, frustrated at not being taken seriously by your best friend— though, to be fair, when had she ever? 

You hastily slipped your phone into your back pocket, already dreading the snarky text she was sure to send you for ending the call, before shifting your attention back to the screen. One of the men removed his mask, prompting you to move even closer with narrowed eyes, your forehead nearly touching the cold glass. 

“Good evening.” he called out in a stoic, chilling voice, his shiny black hair neatly styled, and his stance tall, commanding and unmistakably intimidating. 

“Sorry to bother you at this ungodly hour, but let me kindly introduce myself. My name is Tom, and these guys— they are my friends.” The scene you were intently staring at filled you with pure terror— this unknown man named Tom, surrounded by men in masks, each carrying weapons that could easily kill you, weapons that were already completely soaked in blood, the dark droplets dripping ominously onto your front porch. 

“This can go one of two ways; you simply let us in, and we will steal— sorry, I mean take whatever we desire, and then, we leave! Or…  we can do this the hard way. But I can assure you, you will not survive the latter.” His tone was almost amused as he finished speaking, and through the grainy pixels, you could see a controlled, sinister smile spreading across his pale face. 

“Do not think you are invincible. We can enter any home we want. And we will want, as wanting is our will on this fine purge night. Do not force us to hurt you.”

His menacing words sent tingles across your skin, all the muscles in your body tightening. And for a good ten minutes, they did nothing but stand there, staring straight into the camera, waiting—expecting—for you to open the door for them. 

It was a chilling sight. Almost as if you were staring at a photograph, the men stood completely still, their blood-covered hands tightly gripping their equally blood-soaked weapons, knowing your blood would be next to splatter across them, mixing with that of other poor, helpless victims. 

When they realised you weren’t going to open the door, Tom gave his men a quick signal, waving his finger in the air, which caused you to cock your head in both curiosity and unease.

“Alright then.” He said, the sinister smile on his face growing wider. But it was fine. You knew they couldn’t come inside anyway. Your house was so securely protected, there was no way they could come in and— Is that a fucking blowtorch? 

“Yes, we are prepared. And you— oh, you chose the wrong option.” Tom coldly stated as if he could read your mind, dragging the words in a chilling tone. Two of his men quickly got to work, the blowtorch slowly cutting through the thick metal doors, meanwhile, Tom continued to stare directly at the camera, his evil, dark smile never faltering, his soulless eyes not blinking once.

“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck.” This was when real panic set in, your eyes flickering with pure terror as you slowly backed away from the screens, gripping whatever furniture was nearby to steady yourself. You hurried out of the room, realising this was the time to hide.

Quickly but silently running up the stairs again, you heard the agonising sound of the blowtorch cutting through the metal, sending shivers all over your body and urging you to move faster. 

You burst into your room, breathless, slamming the door behind you and you panickedly scanned the small space, frantically searching for the best hiding spot. There weren’t many options, but the closet seemed like your only chance, so without hesitation, you flung the door open, stepped inside, and crouched down, wrapping your trembling arms tightly around your knees. 

“It’ll be fine, it’ll be fine, it’ll be fine.” You kept repeating to yourself in a quiet, trembling voice, desperately trying to gaslight yourself into believing it. But who the fuck are you kidding? They were inevitably coming in, and then… well, you didn’t even want to think about it.

You gasped loudly at the sudden sound of a loud bang, followed by distant voices and approaching footsteps downstairs. Nibbling on your bottom lip and one hand clutching your throat, you struggled to calm your ragged breathing, but hoping to make out the conversation happening downstairs— although you weren’t even sure if you wanted to hear it in the first place. 

“We are coming, aha! And we will find you, you little fucking bitch” an unfamiliar voice taunted from down the stairs followed by a menacing laugh, clearly relishing the undeniable fear they were instilling in you as the footsteps and faint chatter grew louder with every passing second.

“Mattheo, control yourself. Search for the girl downstairs, and Theo, you check upstairs. The rest of us will take whatever is valuable and leave for the next house.” You heared Tom instruct two of his men, his voice stern and cold, before adding, “Oh, and whatever you do, make it as painful as possible. I want her to suffer.” 

Goosebumps covered your entire body hearing the chilling words, and you could tell that these guys didn’t fuck around. Everything about them was incredibly organised and prepared. This wasn’t their first time purging. No, they knew exactly what they were doing.

Heavy, resolute footsteps then made their way up the stairs, each deep step resonating through the house, making the silence feel like it was closing it. Theo. There was no way out of this. The only thing you could do was pray that he wouldn’t find you. But deep down, you knew he would. 

“You can’t hide from me, piccola.” a deep, husky voice teased, his voice slightly muffled by the mask he wore. It surprised you to hear a foreign accent— Italian, you guessed. And fuck, you could punch yourself in the face right now for finding it… hot. 

The steps grew louder, tantalisingly slow, until his footsteps reached your room. Your hand flew to your mouth to keep yourself quiet, your brows furrowed as you squeezed your eyes shut, focusing on steadying your breath. Your heart beat out of your chest, and you worried it was beating loud enough for him to hear. 

Then it was quiet. No sounds. You swallowed, your mouth feeling dry with tears brimming at your waterline, and you gasped when you suddenly heard his voice so close to you. Thank fucking god you still had your mouth covered. 

“You’re here, aren’t you?” He said in a dark, knowing manner, and the only thing you could do at this very moment was repeat ‘please don’t find me’ in your head while only hoping your death would be less painful than Tom had ordered it to be. “I know you are...” 

The closet door then abruptly swung open, causing you to let out a loud, surprised gasp. The tears you had so desperately tried to suppress now uncontrollably streamed down your cheeks as your head shot up. Soft ‘no’s slipped from your lips when he grabbed you by the arm and aggressively pulled you out of the closet, the words barely audible and you panickedly shook your head, feeling lightheaded due to pure fear. 

“Shut up, cazzo.” he muttered irritably as he threw you on your bed with exasperated aggression. And you immediately complied— not only because he asked you to, but because you didn’t want Matthew to hear you, knowing that Theo had found you, worried of what he might do to you. Matthew… Was his name even Matthew? 

He stood still before you, and for the first time, you took him in, scanning him from head to toe as his imposing, tall frame loomed over you, casting a shadow over where you sat on the bed.

A white mask fully covered his face, and in his right hand, he held a bloody, sharp knife, causing you to gulp in fear. Oh, he looked fucking terrifying— but there was something else, something other than fear deep inside of you. A feeling you desperately tried to suppress. A feeling you felt ashamed to feel. A feeling you could not bring yourself to admit. 

“Huh.” he commented, his head tilting slightly to the left. “Tom didn’t tell me you were such a pretty little thing.” he reached his hand out, his thumb brushing over your cheek, causing you to instinctively pull away, stiffening under his touch. 

“Così carina.” he chuckled mockingly, and your eyes were drawn to his hand that was expertly spinning the knife. His other hand then abruptly gripped your hair, making you gasp, and he slightly tilted your head to expose your neck. 

From your peripheral vision, you could see the bloody knife drawing closer to your neck, making you instantly shut your eyes with furrowed brows, knowing this was it. 

“Can’t wait to see these white sheets turn red.” Theo taunted, but you were shaking, crying and nervously biting down on your lip so hard that blood welled up, waiting for the moment you finally felt the sharp knife against your delicate skin.

And then you did. You felt the cold blade lightly dig into the skin of your neck, the sharp, stinging sensation causing you to tightly grip the sheets, followed by fresh, crimson droplets of blood slowly trickling down your skin— but then he stopped.

“Hm. You know what, bella?” Theo paused for a moment, crouching down to get on eye level with you. The closer he got to you, the faster your heart raced, your whole body heating up with a mix of fear and something else. The deep sense of guilt you felt for feeling… this way gnawed at you from the inside. 

“I might just have other plans for you.” Your head snapped toward him, and you hissed at the fresh cut stretching open, your hand instinctively reaching to the wound, carefully dabbing your fingers on the blood still trickling out.

“You wanna live?” He questioned, and you reluctantly nodded, still unable to shake off the feeling of unease, even as a slight sense of relief—or maybe hope— began to grow inside of you. 

“Then I advise you to get on your knees before I change my mind.” You blinked rapidly, unsure if you heard him correctly. Surely not. 

“I— what?” You stammered, breathing in so fast you nearly choked on air as your heart pounded out of your chest. 

“Oh, you heard me.” He rose to his feet, and your eyes intently followed his every movement. The way the moonlight seeped through the blinds illuminated him, and for the first time, you could clearly see his ocean-blue eyes gazing down at you with intense focus— the only feature of his face that was visible through the mask. 

He reached the knife out again, causing you to flinch, but this time he pressed it under your chin to lift your head, the pointy end digging into your soft skin.

“You don’t think I noticed?” he began, and you sat frozen, knowing that a single movement would press the knife deep into your skin. 

“You don’t think I noticed the way you looked at me with those pretty eyes?” You raised an eyebrow in puzzlement, unsure of what he was hinting at, and you absolutely hated this— the vagueness of his words. You hated having to guess what he meant. It made you anxious. 

“I have purged a lot of people, bella. And there is one thing aaall of them have in common— they all have this same, fearful look in their eyes.” he continued, and it made you wonder what he saw in yours. 

“But you… cazzo. With you, I see something else sparkling in those pupils.” The way the mask muffled his voice made you unconsciously lean in closer to hear him better, and he did the same, but for an entirely different reason, until you were merely inches apart. It was a strange observation to make in such a moment like this, but oddly enough, he smelt nice, very nice. A pleasant, musky cologne with the undertone of cigarettes filled your senses. 

“With you I see… lust, yearning, desperation.” he whispered into your ear, the knife digging deeper into your skin, yet still not deep enough to draw blood. Your eyes shot wide open before locking with his, and you felt caught. He hit the hammer right on the nail. 

“Go on, tell me I’m fuckin’ wrong.” but you couldn’t. You couldn’t tell him he was wrong. Because he wasn’t. Your eyes darted nervously around the room, unable to meet those intense, piercing eyes as the ache between your legs only grew stronger. 

“Yeah… that’s what I thought. Bet your panties are soaked already, aren’t they?” you heard a muffled, condescending chuckle coming from under his mask as he slowly twisted the knife under your chin. You so desperately wanted to bite back, to defend yourself, to tell him that he was being ridiculous— but the words were stuck in your throat.

“So… back to where we were.” he growled as he unbuckled his belt and pushed his pants down, suddenly remembering Matthew wandering around downstairs and being able to walk in at any time, causing him to rush. 

“C’mon sweetheart. I need to feel those pretty lips wrapped around me if you want to live, a’ight? If Mattheo finds us, it’s over for you.” Ohhhh, Mattheo… right, right.

You hesitantly walked over to him before getting on your knees right in front of him— right in front of his already hard erection trapped in his boxers, desperately wanting to escape as the tip formed a wet patch of precum on the fabric. 

“Well… you know I could just kick you in the balls right now and run away?” There it finally was— the words that had been stuck in your throat, and the boldness inside of you that had finally come free. It was that unexpectedly tender demeanour of his emerging in brief moments, causing you to see him in a humane light, which stilled your fears. 

He scoffed before aggressively gripping your hair and pulling your head back, causing you to hiss at the fresh wound on your neck stinging at the movement. He drew closer to you before suddenly holding the knife to your throat again, the softness you’d glimpsed earlier vanishing in an instant.

“Oh yeah? You don’t think I’m gonna find you and cut you open? Go for it. Give it a try. Let’s see how that ends.” he warned in a low, menacing tone, your brows furrowing as you clenched your teeth, staring right into his narrowed eyes. 

“Acting as if you aren’t practically begging to suck me off right now, tsk. Hurry the fuck up.” he ordered in a harsh tone, abruptly letting go of your hair and retracting the knife from your throat.

Realising you had no other choice but to follow his orders, you stared up at his masked face, before your gaze fell on his boxers. You could tell he was big just from the imprint through the thin fabric— oh, there was no doubt in that. Reluctantly, you drew your head closer to his crotch, teasingly using your teeth to pull the waistband of his boxers down before slowly sliding them off. 

“See, I knew you were a fucking slut.” he growled, his amusement evident as his erection sprang free against his toned abs, precum glistening at the tip. Oh, well fuck. He was indeed huge, causing your eyes to widen momentarily as you swallowed hard. You glanced back up at him one more time, and he gave you a sharp nod, his hand on the back of your head pressing insistently, urging you closer. 

Your head slowly inched closer to his intimidatingly large cock, and you started with placing soft kitten licks on the tip, tasting the salty precum, when suddenly a mischievous smile began to curve your glossed lips. In one swift, unexpected motion, you wrapped your mouth around his throbbing length, firmly pressing your teeth into the skin while at the same time your hand darted to his balls, your sharp nails digging deep into the sensitive flesh. 

“That fuckin’ hurts, you bitch. Cazzo!” Theo cursed, aggressively pushing you back until you hit the bed, yet the same mischievous smile on your face only widened. It confused him how the terrified, weak girl he saw earlier had transformed into… this. 

“Didn’t expect you to be such a fucking pussy.” you challenged him, fire burning in your eyes. Not because you wanted to die, but because deep down you knew you weren’t going to. If he wanted to kill you, he would’ve done that already. With the precum leaking from his painfully hard erection right in front of you, you knew the only thing on his mind was finding his release. He was a man after all— simple, driven by his desires.

“You better shut that little mouth—” 

“Or what? You're gonna threaten me again with that stupid little knife—” before you could even finish your sentence, he grabbed you by the hair, yanking you roughly towards him, his cock forcing its way into your mouth. The tip hit the back of your throat instantly, triggering your gag reflex as you struggled to breathe around his thick, aching erection. He quickly set a brutal rhythm, bucking his hips aggressively into your mouth, and you felt your eyes well with tears, saliva running down your chin. 

“If you stop, I’ll make you fucking regret it.” His hand gripped your hair in a tight ponytail, pulling you to meet his thrusts as he relentlessly fucked your mouth. Gagging sounds filled the room as he forced your head down as far as possible, groaning at the sight beneath him— a sight that could so easily make him come already.

“You wanted this from the start, huh? Such a pathetic—” Theo’s sentence was then abruptly cut off when the door suddenly swung open and slammed against the wall, causing you both to freeze and stare, wide-eyed and horrified. A chill ran down your spine as you noticed another masked man standing in the doorway, holding a blood-soaked baseball bat while casually leaning against the doorframe. Oh no.  

“Well, well, well… look what we have here. You really thought I wouldn’t find out, Theodore? How cute.” 

Mattheo. 

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

a/n: thank you sm for reading ^_^!!!!!!! this was supposed to be one long fic but i decided to cut in into two (or maybe more if needed) parts! im not sure when the next part will be posted but ill try to work on it soon !!! <3

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As you continue your routine, you can't shake the feeling of Theodore's eyes on you. His presence is like a physical force, drawing your attention even as you try to focus on the game. 

The match continues, the score seesawing back and forth, but your mind isn’t focused on the game

you're so lost in thought that you barely register the game going on above you. 

your eyes are focused on the ground, your mind wandering to places you’d rather not go. It's only when you feel a tap on your shoulder that you snap back to reality

Theo soars through the air, the wind whipping at his face, he spots you on the sidelines, distracted but still cheering and swaying your pom-poms. But it's not just your lack of enthusiasm that catches his eye - it's the tall, handsome figure standing beside you, the one with the easy grin and the sparkle in his eye.

Cedric Diggory.

you turn to see Cedric standing beside you, sending a friendly smile.

"Hey there," he says, his Hufflepuff uniform looking crisp and clean despite the intense game.

"Hey, Cedric" you reply, returning his smile. You two make small talk for a few minutes, discussing the game and your respective teams. Cedric is charming and attentive, his blue eyes sparkling with warmth as he listens intently to every word you say.

"I noticed Nott seems to be playing extra hard today. Must be all that pent-up energy from studying for exams." cedric says as he leans closer to you

you chuckle at his joke “yeah, exams”

Theo's grip tightens on his broomstick, his knuckles turning white. He watches as Cedric leans in close, saying something that makes you laugh. The sound of your laughter cuts through the roar of the crowd, piercing Theo's heart like a Bludger.

Jealousy surges through his veins, hot and bitter. Theo's gaze burns into the back of your neck, and you can practically feel the waves of jealousy radiating off him. He plays more aggressively than ever, his broom dipping and weaving as he tries to outmaneuver the ravenclaw team.

His grip tightens on his broom handle as he zooms past the stands, his mind racing.

He knows he has no right to be jealous, not after he told you he didn’t want anything serious. But seeing you with someone else, laughing and smiling like that, it's like a punch to the gut. He wants to march over there and tear Cedric away from you, to remind you that you belong to him.

You can't help but notice Theo’s intense gaze locked on you and Cedric as you chat on the sidelines. Even from across the pitch, you can see the jealousy burning in Theo's eyes, the way his jaw clenched as he watches Cedric lean in close to hear you over the roar of the crowd.

A part of you feels a thrill at seeing Theo so clearly affected by your interaction with another guy. It's a power trip, knowing that you have that kind of hold over him. Theo zips past the other players, his broomstick cutting through the air like a knife. There's a wildness to his flying, a recklessness that both thrills and terrifies you.

you bite your lip, torn between wanting to reassure Theo that there's nothing going on between Cedric and you, and the desire to let him stew in his jealousy a little longer. It's petty, you know, but seeing him so worked up over you is intoxicating.

In the end, you decided to play it cool, focusing your attention on the game and cheering loudly for slytherin. But you can't help sneaking glances at Theo, watching for any sign of how he's handling your conversation with Cedric.

And deep down, you have to admit that a part of you is hoping he'll do something dramatic, something that will force him to confront all his feelings for you once and for all.

As the final whistle blows, announcing Slytherin's victory, the green and silver stands erupt in cheers. you join in the celebration, waving my pom-poms and shouting for your team. But even as you revel in our hard-fought win, your eyes are drawn to Theo.

He's hovering near the ground, his chest heaving with exertion, a triumphant grin on his face. The other Slytherin players mob him, slapping him on the back and congratulating him on his impressive performance. But Theodore seems oblivious to their praise, his gaze fixed on you.

He strides towards you, his movements purposeful and angry. As he approaches, you can see the tension radiating off him, the way his fists clench and unclench at his sides. But then you remember Cedric, still standing beside you, feeling a twinge of anxiety .

When he reaches you, he doesn't even acknowledge Cedric, his gaze laser-focused on you.

Theo grabs your hand roughly, his fingers intertwined with yours as he drags you towards the locker room. His pace is fast, almost frantic, as he weaves through the crowd of celebrating players and cheering fans.

Once inside, he slams the door shut behind you, the sound echoing in the empty room. 

You're alone now, trapped with the angry, jealous Theodore you've managed to provoke.

He turns to face you, his chest heaving with exertion and his eyes dark with a mix of anger and desire.

“Diggory huh? look who's cozying up to the enemy."

You feel your face heating up, a mixture of annoyance and embarrassment rising in your chest. 

"I wasn't cozying up with anyone," you snap, trying to keep your voice steady.  "I was just being friendly. It's part of my job as a cheerleader."

Theo lets out a short, derisive laugh.

"Friendly? Is that what you call it?." He leans in even closer, his lips nearly brushing your ear.

he purrs, his voice low and threatening. "You think you can just toy with me and get away with it?"

his breath hot against your face. "You're mine, dolcezza. Whether you like it or not. And I won't let Hufflepuffs golden boy come between us." His other hand comes up to cup your cheek, his touch surprisingly gentle compared to the bruising grip on your arm.

"You belong with me. You always have. And I won't let you forget it."

His hand slides up your thigh, his touch possessive and demanding. your heart pounding in your chest.

You know you should pull away, tell him off for his arrogance and possessiveness. But there's a part of you that thrills at his words, that wants to give in to the desire that's been building.

Theo's lips crash against yours, his kiss rough and hungry. He devours your mouth, his tongue sliding against yours, claiming you as his own. His hands roam over your body, slipping under your cheerleader uniform, his fingers leaving trails of fire in their wake.

When he finally pulls back, you're both breathing heavily, your lips swollen and your skin flushed. Theo's eyes are dark with desire, his gaze roaming over your body with a predatory intensity.

"You had your fun out there, Bella," he growls, his voice low and dangerous. "Teasing me, flirting with that prick. Well, now it's my turn."

You watch as he strips off his Quidditch uniform, his lean, muscular body on full display. Your mouth goes dry, your pulse racing at the sight of him.

Theodore turns to face you, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. Theodore leans in closer, his lips brushing against your ear. "Now, let's see if you can follow orders like a good little cheerleader."

He shoves you to your knees, his hand fisting in your hair. You gasp as he forces your head towards his crotch, the bulge in his Quidditch pants impossible to ignore.

"Go on, bella. Show me how sorry you are. Show me that smart mouth of yours can be put to better use than running off at the gutter."

His words are harsh, but you can feel the heat of his arousal pressing against your face. Your heart pounds in your chest as you reach for his zipper, your fingers trembling with a mix of fear and anticipation.

As you free his cock from the confines of his pants, no matter how many times you’ve seen him you can't help but stare. He's huge, thick and hard and throbbing with need.

Theo's hand tightens in your hair, urging you forward.

“Well, someone’s inpatient” you tease 

"Don't make me tell you again, dolcezza. Put that pretty little mouth to work before I really lose my temper."

His words send a shiver down your spine, a mix of fear and excitement. You know you're playing a dangerous game, but the thought of submitting to Theodore's desires is just too tempting to resist.

He rocks his hips forward, the head of his cock brushing against your lips. You can feel the heat of his skin, the pulsing need that radiates from his core. Your mouth waters as you imagine the taste of him, the feel of his thick shaft sliding over your tongue.

"Open that smart mouth of yours and put it to good use. Show me how much you want to please me."he warns, his voice a low rumble.

With a shaky breath, you part your lips, letting your tongue dart out to taste the bead of pre-cum that leaks from the tip of his cock.

Theo groans, his grip on your hair tightening as he guides you forward. You open wider, taking him into your mouth inch by delicious inch. The taste of him explodes on your tongue, salty and musky and utterly intoxicating.

As you begin to bob your head, taking him deeper with each movement, Theodore's breath comes in harsh pants. His hips rock forward, meeting your mouth with each downward stroke. You can feel him growing harder, thicker, stretching your lips around his girth.

The locker room is filled with the wet sounds of your sucking, the grunts and groans of Theo's pleasure. You lose yourself in the rhythm, in the feel of his cock sliding over your tongue, hitting the back of your throat with each thrust.

As Theodore's cock slides deeper into your mouth, you can feel him growing harder, thicker, stretching your lips around his girth.

His grip on your hair tightens, forcing you to take him even deeper. You gag slightly as he hits the back of your throat, but the discomfort is quickly overtaken by a sense of power, of control.

You hollow your cheeks, sucking harder, faster. Your tongue swirls around the head of his cock, teasing the sensitive flesh. Theodore groans above you, his hips rocking forward to meet your mouth.

"Fuck, tesoro" he gasps, his voice rough with pleasure. "Just like that. Use that pretty little mouth of yours to make me feel good."

His words spur you on, and you double your efforts. You look up at him through your lashes, your eyes meeting his. The look in his gaze is one of pure, unadulterated lust. He's watching you, drinking in the sight of your lips wrapped around his cock. His free hand moves to grip your chin, holding you in place as he thrusts deeper.

"You like this, don't you?" he growls, his voice low and dangerous. 

"Like being on your knees for me, like having my cock in your mouth. I bet you've been thinking about this all day, haven't you?"

His words send a shiver down your spine, a mix of shame and excitement. You know you shouldn't enjoy this, shouldn't revel in the degradation of it all. But the truth is, you do.

You love the feel of his cock in your mouth, the taste of him on your tongue.

He rocks his hips forward, driving his cock deeper into your throat. You gag and sputter around him, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. But the pain only seems to spur him on, his thrusts becoming harder, faster.

"You wanted to get me all worked up, did you? Wanted to see what I'd do? Well, here's your answer.",

The taste of him fills your senses, the musky scent of his arousal making your head spin. You hollow your cheeks, sucking harder, faster, determined to bring him to the edge.

Theo groans above you, his hips rocking forward to meet your mouth. His grip on your hair tightens, guiding you as you bob your head up and down his length.

 "Fuck, yes,"he hisses, his voice strained with pleasure. "Just like that. You're going to make me cum so hard, tesoro. You're going to swallow every last drop.” your tongue swirling around the sensitive head of his cock, teasing the slit.

Theo's breathing becomes more ragged, his thrusts more erratic. You can tell he's close, his balls tightening as he nears his peak. "That's it" he growls, his voice a low rumble.

"Don't stop. I'm going to cum down your pretty little throat, dolcezza. You're going to drink every last drop like a good girl."

With a final, brutal thrust, he buries himself to the hilt in your mouth. You can feel him pulsing, throbbing against your tongue as he reaches his climax. Hot, bitter fluid floods your mouth, and you have no choice but to swallow it down.

As he pulls out, a string of cum connects your lips to the head of his cock. He wipes it away with a careless swipe of his thumb, smearing it across your cheek.

"There's a good girl" he purrs, his voice low and satisfied. "You took your punishment well. I think you've learned your lesson about flirting with other boys, haven't you?"

You can only nod, your mouth still full of the taste of him. Your thighs rub together, the ache between them a constant reminder of your own arousal. But you know better than to ask for anything more.

Theo tucks himself back into his pants, his eyes never leaving your face. He looks pleased with himself, a smug smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

"Get up," he commands, releasing his grip on your hair. "We're not done yet. I still have a few more lessons to teach you."

With shaking legs, you rise to your feet, your knees weak from kneeling on the hard floor.

Theo's hand finds your ass, giving it a rough squeeze as he guides you towards one of the benches.

"Bend over" he orders, his voice leaving no room for argument.

You bend over the bench, Your skimpy cheerleader skirt rides up to reveal the curve of your ass, exposing the lacy panties underneath. You can feel his eyes on you, drinking in the sight of your vulnerable position.

A smirk plays on your lips. You can't help but poke the bear, even as your heart races with anticipation

"Ooh, I'm sooo scared," you drawl, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "Whatever shall I do?

The big bad Slytherin is going to punish me for flirting with another boy. I might just faint from the sheer terror of it all."

You hear Theo's sharp intake of breath behind you, followed by the sound of his palm cracking against your ass. The sting is immediate, a hot burst of pain that sends shockwaves through your body.

"Watch it, Bella" he growls, his voice low and dangerous. "That smart mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble one of these days."

His hand comes down again, harder this time, the force of it sending a jolt of pleasure mixed with pain straight to your core. You bite your lip, trying to stifle the moan that threatens to escape.

"That's it, keep that smart mouth shut,"

Theodore taunts, his fingers digging into the flesh of your ass as he kneads the reddened skin.

"I'm going to fuck you right here, where anyone could walk in and see" Theo whispers, his breath hot against your ear.

"And you're going to take it like a good little slut, aren't you?"

He reaches down, his hand sliding between your legs to cup your aching sex. You're already soaked, your panties clinging to your skin. Theo chuckles darkly as he feels how wet you are.

"Look at you, getting off on this. You're sick, you know that? Teasing me, flirting with other boys, just to get a rise out of me." His fingers slide under your panties, teasing your swollen folds. You can't help but arch into his touch, desperate for more.

"Beg for it, tesoro" he demands, his voice rough with desire.

 "Beg me to fuck you like the naughty little slut you are. Maybe if you beg nicely enough, l'Il give you what you want."His words are cruel, but they only serve to fuel your arousal. You're desperate for him, desperate for the release only he can give you. But you refuse to give him the satisfaction of hearing you beg.

"Fuck you, Theodore" you hiss, glaring back at him over your shoulder.

“awe come on baby, i know you can’t resist me”

His fingers dip inside you, stroking your inner walls. You can't help but moan at the intrusion, your hips bucking back against his hand. Theodore chuckles darkly, his thumb finding your clit and circling it mercilessly.

"That's it, let me hear you," he taunts, his fingers pumping in and out of your dripping core.

Theodore's fingers pump in and out of you, his thumb rubbing circles around your clit. The dual sensations are almost too much to bear, your hips bucking back against his hand as you chase your pleasure.

"Fuck, you're so wet for me," he growls, his voice low and dark

You can't hold back any longer. As his fingers drive deeper, his thumb pressing harder on your clit, you let out a loud, wanton moan.

Your back arches, pushing your hips back against his hand, desperate for more of that exquisite pleasure.

"Fuck, Theo!" you cry out, your voice echoing off the locker room walls. "Please, don't stop!"

Theodore chuckles darkly, his fingers never ceasing their relentless assault on your most intimate places. Your moans grow louder, more desperate, as he brings you closer and closer to the edge.

"That's more like it, You sound so pretty when you beg." he purrs, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear.

Theo's fingers pump harder, faster, his thumb rubbing your clit with merciless precision. Your moans grow louder, more desperate, as he drives you closer and closer to the edge. The wet sounds of your arousal fill the locker room, mixing with the slap of skin on skin as he fucks you with his fingers.

"That's it, tesoro" he growls, his voice low and husky. "Cum for me. Show me how much you want it. I want to feel you clenching around my fingers, begging for more."

You're so close, teetering on the brink of ecstasy, your body trembling with need. With a final, brutal thrust of his fingers, Theo sends you over the edge.

“oh godd” Your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave, your inner walls clenching around his fingers as you cum hard. You cry out, your voice raw with pleasure, your body shaking uncontrollably. Theo doesn't let up, continuing to finger-fuck you through your climax, drawing out your pleasure until you're a boneless, panting mess.

As you come down from your high, Theo withdraws his fingers, bringing them to his mouth. He sucks them clean, his eyes locked on yours as he savors your taste.

"Delicious" he purrs, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "But we're far from done. I'm going to fuck you until you can't walk straight, until the only name you remember is mine."

Theo's hands grip your hips, he positions you on your hands and knees on the bench. his fingers digging into your flesh as he positions himself at your entrance. You can feel the heat of his cock, the hardness of it pressing insistently against your sensitive folds. 

"Spread your legs wider,tesoro” he commands, his voice rough with lust. "Let me see that pretty little cunt." With a brutal thrust, he's inside you, filling you completely.

"Fuck, you're so tight" he groans, his voice strained with pleasure. "I can feel every inch of you squeezing around my cock."

He sets a relentless pace, pounding into you with a force that steals your breath. The bench creaks beneath you, the sound mixing with the wet slap of skin on skin, the grunts and moans of your mutual pleasure.

Theo's hips snap forward, driving his cock deeper with each thrust.

His hands roam your body, groping and squeezing as he fucks you. He reaches around to your front, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing it in time with his thrusts. The added stimulation sends shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

"Mine to fuck, mine to use, mine to claim. Say it." he growls, his voice rough with desire

The moment you hesitate, Theo's hand cracks across your ass in a stinging slap.

"I said, say it" he demands, his voice low and dangerous. "Tell me who you belong to."

He doesn't give you a chance to respond, instead thrusting forward hard and fast.

You cry out at the sudden intrusion, your body tensing at the familiar burn of being filled so completely.

Theodore doesn't pause, pulling back only to slam into you again, setting a brutal pace. The force of his thrusts rocks you forward on the bench, your breasts bouncing with each harsh snap of his hips. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoes through the locker room, mixing with your moans and Theo's grunts of pleasure.

"Fuck, you feel so good" he pants, his hands gripping your hips tight enough to bruise. "So tight, so perfect for my cock.”

You can feel your pleasure building with each thrust, your inner walls clenching around him, desperate for more. Theodore leans over you, his chest pressing against your back as he pounds into you relentlessly.

"Say it," he growls in your ear, his hot breath fanning across your neck. 

"Tell me who you belong to”

You're so close to the edge, your body trembling with the force of your impending orgasm. But you refuse to give in, refuse to give Theodore the satisfaction of hearing you submit. Instead, you clench down hard on his cock, trying to distract him, to throw him off balance.

It works, at least for a moment. Theo curses, his hips stuttering as your walls grip him like a vice. But he quickly recovers, pulling out entirely and flipping you over onto your back. He hovers above you, his eyes dark with lust and frustration.

Theo looms over you, his eyes wild with lust and frustration. You meet his gaze defiantly, refusing to submit, to give him the satisfaction of hearing you beg. Instead, you reach up, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pull him down to you.

"You're mine, Theodore," you whisper, your voice low and seductive. "You've always been mine, even if you won't admit it. Say it. Tell me who you belong to."

Your challenge hangs in the air between you, heavy with unspoken desire. Theo's eyes narrow, his jaw clenching as he struggles to maintain control. But you can see the flicker of uncertainty in his gaze, the momentary crack in his carefully constructed facade.

You arch your back, pressing your breasts against his chest as you wrap your legs around his waist.

"Fuck, Bella" he pants, his voice strained.

"You drive me crazy. You make me want things I shouldn't want, feel things I shouldn't feel. But you're right. I am yours, just as much as you're mine. We belong to each other, whether we like it or not."

Theodore's admission hangs in the air between you, a confession whispered in the heat of passion. He gazes down at you, his eyes softening for a fleeting moment before the hunger returns, dark and intense. His hips move in a slow, deliberate rhythm, each thrust driving him deeper, filling you completely.

"My perfect little minx, my tempting little tease. You drive me insane, make me want to possess every inch of you, claim you in ways no one else ever could." he growls, his voice low and possessive.

His hand slides up your side, his fingers tracing the curve of your breast before palming the soft mound 

Theo's hand slides lower, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing in tight, teasing circles. Your hips buck against him, seeking more of that delicious friction. He chuckles darkly, his breath hot against your skin.

"That's it, my little slut" he purrs, his voice dripping with praise. His hand fists in your hair, tugging your head back as he leans down to claim your mouth in a searing kiss. His tongue delves deep, exploring, conquering, leaving no doubt as to who owns you.

You moan into his mouth, your own tongue tangling with his in a dance of dominance and submission.

Theodore's thrusts grow harder, faster, each one driving you closer to the edge. Your nails rake down his back, leaving red welts in their wake. You can feel your orgasm building, your inner walls clenching around him, desperate for release.

"You're going to be the death of me, dolcezza. But what a way to go." he growls, his lips crashing against yours in a brutal kiss.

He angles his thrusts, hitting that spot inside you that makes your toes curl.

Each stroke sends sparks of pleasure shooting through your body, building the tension coiling in your core.

"Harder," you gasp, your voice raw with need.

"Fuck me harder, Theo. I can take it. I want it." you whine out

Theo obliges, his thrusts becoming more erratic, more brutal. The bench creaks beneath you, the metal frame rattling with each powerful stroke. You can feel him growing harder inside you, his cock throbbing against your walls.

Theo's hand snakes between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing in tight, teasing circles. The added stimulation is almost too much, your body tensing as your orgasm approaches.

"Cum for me, Bella " he demands, his voice low and commanding. "Cum on my cock like a good girl. Show me who you belong to."

Theo groans, his hips stuttering as he nears his own climax.

"Cum for me, cum all over my cock. Fuck, I'm going to fill you up so good."

“omg theo!” You cry out, your back arching off the bench as wave after wave of pleasure washes over you. your voice raw with pleasure, your body shaking uncontrollably. Theo doesn't let up, continuing to pound into you, riding out your climax with his own.

Even as your orgasm crashes over you, Theodore doesn't let up. He continues to pound into you, his hips slamming against yours with relentless force. The sensation is almost too much to bear, your overstimulated nerves screaming with pleasure.

"Fuck, you feel incredible when you cum" Theo groans, his voice strained with effort. 

"So tight, so perfect. I could fuck you like this forever, make you cum over and over again until you're a satisfied mess."

"Theo" you moan, your voice raw and desperate. "I can't... I can't take anymore. It's too much."

But even as you protest, your hips are moving in time with his, meeting each of his thrusts with your own. You're lost in a haze of pleasure, your body responding to his touches even as your mind struggles to keep up.

“It's okay baby just a little longer, you can handle it right?”

you nod not being able to say anything else

His hip quicken as he feels his release approaching 

“fuck fuck fuck” he cries out, his voice raw with pleasure

Theo slams into you one last time, burying himself to the hilt inside your tight heat. His body tenses, his muscles rigid as his climax hits him like a freight train. With a guttural groan, he finds his release, his cock pulsing and twitching as he fills you with his seed.

The sensation is overwhelming, your oversensitive body shaking and quivering with the force of his orgasm. You cling to him, your nails digging into his back, your body milking him for all he's worth.

Gradually, his thrusts slow, his body relaxing as he comes down from his high. He collapses beside you on the bench, both of you gasping for breath, your bodies glistening with sweat. For a moment, there is only the sound of your ragged breathing, the pounding of your hearts gradually slowing.

Theo reaches out, his fingers brushing a stray lock of hair away from your face. His touch is gentle, almost tender, a stark contrast to the brutal passion of moments before. He looks at you, his eyes dark and intense, a hint of vulnerability in their depths.

You reach up, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pull him down for a kiss. It's slow, tender, a stark contrast to the brutal passion of moments before. You both pour all your feelings into the kiss, all the emotions you’ve been trying to deny, to suppress.

When you finally break apart, you're both breathless, smiling softly at each other. Theodore's hand slides down your side, his fingers interlacing with yours.

"no more games" he whispers as he kisses your forehead "just you & me okay?"

“just you and me” 

ᥫ᭡reblog's & comment's are appreciatedᥫ᭡

©lov3notts ,do not copy, translate or claim any of my writing or works as your own.

And every time he tried to push those feelings aside, they came back even stronger than before in a crashing wave full of raw emotion. He felt like a puppet on a string that was pulled tight by the cruel hands of jealousy. His actions were no longer his own.

The summer sun bathed the picturesque streets of Florence in a warm, golden glow, casting a honeyed hue over the ancient city. Cobblestone pathways, worn smooth by centuries of footsteps, stretched along the bustling streets. Each turn revealed a new delight: charming cafés with wrought-iron tables spilling onto the sidewalks, historic landmarks standing as silent reminders of the past, and vibrant marketplaces bursting with life and color. The air was rich with the scent of blooming flowers, mingling with the earthy aroma of aged stone and the tantalizing whiff of fresh espresso. The fragrance was an intoxicating blend, making every breath feel like a taste of paradise. The sounds of Florence added to the sensory feast: the melodic chatter of locals and tourists, the clinking of glasses and cutlery from the outdoor restaurants, and the distant strains of street musicians playing heavenly tunes on their violins and accordions.

Florence, in the embrace of summer, was absolutely beautiful. It was a place where history and romance intertwined, where every corner held a new discovery, and every moment was a celebration of the beauty of life. The city's magic lay not just in its landmarks, but in the way it made you feel — alive, enchanted, and eternally in love with the world around you.

You walked hand in hand with Theodore, your fingers intertwined in one as you explored the enchanting city. This vacation had been his idea, a chance for the two of you to escape the pressures of Hogwarts and immerse yourselves in the beauty and romance of Italy. Theo's Italian heritage made the trip even more special; he was eager to show you the places that held a special place in his heart.

As you wandered through a bustling street, you paused to admire a street artist's breathtaking paintings. The vibrant colors and detailed brushstrokes captured the scenery of Florence in ways that made the city's beauty stand out even more, and you found yourself lost in the artwork. Theo had stepped away momentarily to get you both something to eat from a nearby stand, leaving you alone but content. The hum of the city buzzed around you, voices of people blending with the occasional strum of a guitar.

While you were engrossed in the art, a group of local boys approached, their laughter and chatter filling the air. They were handsome and confident, their flirtatious smiles and easy charm unmistakable. One of them, with dark, curly hair and a mischievous grin, stepped forward, clearly intent on catching your attention. His eyes sparkled with interest as he gestured towards you.

"Sei molto bella." ("You are very beautiful.")

You blinked, a bit taken aback. Although you had picked up a few phrases during your time with Theo, your grasp of the language was far from fluent. You understood enough to know that he was complimenting you, but the exact words of meaning escaped you.

Before you could respond, another boy joined in, his tone equally playful. "Vuoi venire a fare una passeggiata con noi?" ("Do you want to go for a walk with us?")

You felt a flush rise to your cheeks, both from the unexpected attention and your inability to respond. Your eyes darted around, hoping to spot your boyfriend. You were feeling increasingly uncomfortable, unsure how to extricate yourself from the situation.

Just as you were about to attempt a polite but awkward decline, you heard Theo's voice, sharp and commanding. "Ehi, lasciatela in pace!" ("Hey, leave her alone!")

The transformation in him was startling. Theo, usually so calm and composed, had a fierce intensity in his eyes. He stepped between you and the group of boys, his posture protective, his expression a stormy mix of anger and determination. The easygoing demeanor he often sported was replaced by a fierce warning.

His broad shoulders squared, blocking the boys' view of you completely, creating a barrier that was both physical and emotional. The bright warmth of the sun seemed to dim in comparison to the fire that burned in Theo's gaze. It was as if a switch had been flipped, transforming him from the gentle, sweet boyfriend you knew into a guardian ready to defend the owner of his heart and soul.

The boys, who had moments ago been brimming with confidence, raised their hands in mock surrender, laughing nervously. "Calmati, amico. Non volevamo causare problemi," one of them said, trying to diffuse the situation. ("Calm down, friend. We didn't want to cause trouble.")

But Theo wasn't having any of it. Each word was a blade of a dagger, cutting through the casual flirtation of the boys, leaving no room for doubt about his intentions. "Non vedete che non è interessata? Andatevene prima che mi arrabbi davvero." ("Can't you see she's not interested? Walk away before I really get angry."). His voice was low and menacing as he continued in rapid Italian, his words too fast for you to catch but clearly effective in making the boys rethink their approach. They muttered a few apologies before scurrying away, casting wary glances over their shoulders.

Theo turned to you, his eyes softening instantly as he took in your bewildered expression. The fierce protector you had just witnessed melted away, replaced by your sweet boy you knew so well. "Are you okay?" His hand found yours, fingers intertwining in a comforting touch.

You nodded, still a bit shaken. "I'm fine. They were just . . . I didn't understand what they were saying," you admitted, feeling a bit embarrassed.

Theo's lips curved into a reassuring smile. "They were trying to flirt with you," he explained. "But don't worry, they're gone now."

You managed a small laugh, the tension easing out of your body. "I figured that much," you said, your voice lightening. "Thank you, Theo."

He stepped closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his side. The warmth of his embrace and the steady beat of his heart were instantly calming. "I'm sorry if I scared you," he murmured, his breath brushing against your hair. "I just couldn't stand the thought of them bothering you."

You looked up at him, your eyes meeting his. The fierce protectiveness in his gaze had melted into something softer, more tender. "You were amazing," you said honestly. "I've never seen you like that before."

Theo's smile widened, a hint of pride in his expression. "Well, I can't help it," he said, his tone teasing but sincere. "You bring out the best in me."

As you continued your walk through the beautiful streets of Florence, Theo kept you close, his arm securely around you. The incident with the local boys faded into the background, replaced by the joy of being together in such a magical place. The city's charm and Theo's unwavering affection made you feel like you were living in a dream.

Later that evening, as you sat together at a cozy café, sipping on rich Italian espresso, you couldn't help but feel grateful for Theo. His protective nature, his deep love for you, and his ability to make you feel safe and cherished were all things you treasured deeply. As the sun set over the Florence skyline, painting the sky in brilliant hues of pink and orange, you leaned into Theo, feeling utterly content.

despite himself, theo starts walking in the direction of your room. he can’t help being drawn there, and he curses quietly as he feels his cock starting to harden in his jeans – you sound that good. however, as he closes in, he hears something else, something that makes his frown deepen significantly. another set of moans and groans, male. there’s no fucking way.

surprisingly, or not, the door to your room is cracked open. of course, theo is a weak, weak man, and he has to know, has to confirm his assumptions. as he peers into the crack, he nearly chokes on air. there, on your bed, you’re in a very delicious position, ass up face down, your hands fisting the sheets as a guy pounds into you from behind, his fingers firmly digging into your hips. and not just any guy – theo’s very best friend, mattheo.

fucking chase atlantic. should’ve been a dead giveaway.

theo feels a wave of pure jealousy wash over him as he watches his friend take you in a way that theo could only dream of. he’s gonna kill him, he thinks – mattheo is fully aware of everything going on between you and theo, and still, he decided go against every single variation of bro code in existence… he almost groans aloud, having to bite his bottom lip to silence himself. the scene in front on him has no business being this hot.

without really thinking, theo unzips his jeans and pulls them down along with his boxers, his hard cock eagerly springing out and already leaking at the tip. his hand closes around the base, his breathing turning shallow as he watches mattheo grab a fistful of your hair to pull your body up against his chest.

"you feel so fucking good, baby," he hears his friend growl into your ear, thrusting deeper and eliciting a sweet, high-pitched moan out of you. theo grits his teeth as his hand starts stroking his cock, the rage he feels towards mattheo mixing with his burning arousal. precum drips down his length, his fingers smearing it all over, and he has to be slower than he wants to be in order not to give himself away by the slick sounds of him jerking off.

"my mate is a fucking idiot, missing out on all this." mattheo’s words make theo’s free hand curl into a fist, the desire to punch his friend overridden only by the pleasure he’s feeling as he starts pumping his other hand faster. he knows mattheo is right – theo has been the one refusing to fuck you so far, because apparently that would be cheating on your sister, and him dry humping you into oblivion every chance he gets isn’t. but this realization doesn’t make it easier; it makes it harder, in more ways than one.

mattheo’s pace inside of you grows quicker, the sounds of skin slapping against skin filling the room, and at this point, the entire apartment. theo’s lips part as he watches your body move along with his friend’s thrusts, your tits bouncing up and down and making his mouth go dry. his cock twitches in his hold, and he feels his orgasm inching closer and closer with every moan you let out.

"you close, baby?" he hears mattheo’s ragged whisper, and your frantic nod is almost all it takes to bring theo over the edge. he can’t believe himself – he’s jacking off to the sight of his best friend fucking you, and he’s about to witness you cum on his dick. no wonder you will, he’s seen mattheo’s dick himself, it’s a goddamn fuck machine…

when your whole body shakes, and your voice grows hoarse from the pleasured moan you let out at your orgasm, theo can’t hold himself back – he spills into his hand, bracing himself against the wall by leaning on his forearm. the sticky mess of his cum seeping through his fingers is a shameful reminder of what has just happened – he jerked himself off watching his best mate fuck you. god, was it really worth it? the post-nut clarity is strong, and it only gets worse when he witnesses mattheo not even thinking of pulling out when he cums. this fucking bastard…

theo decides for himself right that moment that he absolutely needs to fuck you, his pride be damned – not like he has much of it left anyway. and maybe punch mattheo a couple of times.

There you were, sitting across from him in the library, your hair falling forward as you scribbled down notes, lost in thought. He should’ve been focused on his own work, on the potions essay that was due tomorrow, but he couldn’t help himself. His gaze kept drifting back to you. Every time your quill scratched the parchment or your lips pressed together in concentration, his chest tightened. You had a way of drawing him in, pulling him closer with every small, unconscious movement.

It wasn’t like he’d never noticed you before. You had always been part of the group, hovering on the edges of conversations, offering sharp comments when the boys got too ridiculous, but you never quite entered Theo’s orbit like this. Now, though? Now, he was starting to realize that he’d been wrong to overlook you. You were too… soft. Too gentle in a world that had taught him to be hard, distant. It made him feel things he wasn’t used to feeling.

Then it happened—something so small, so insignificant that it shouldn’t have left a mark on him, but it did.

A paper cut.

He didn’t even flinch as the thin slice formed on his finger while rifling through his notes. Theo muttered a low curse under his breath, instinctively moving to press his thumb against it, but before he could do anything, you noticed.

“You okay?” you asked, your voice warm, as though you had known him for ages. 

Theo blinked, unsure why you were even asking. “Just a paper cut.”

A small smile tugged at your lips as you set your quill down and leaned forward. “Want me to kiss it and make it feel better?”

For a split second, he thought you were joking. He stared at you, unsure how to respond. That wasn’t the kind of offer people made to him. Kisses didn’t fix anything—not the way his childhood had been, not the way life worked now. But the way you looked at him, playful yet sincere, made something stir in his chest.

“That works?” he asked, trying to keep his voice steady.

 You laughed lightly, like it was the simplest thing in the world. “Sure it does. My mom used to do it for me when I was little. Worked like a charm.”

The mention of your mom caught him off guard. His own memories of his mother were hazy, distant, like an old photograph left out in the sun for too long. He couldn’t remember if she had ever kissed his cuts, couldn’t remember if anyone had ever cared for him like that. Affection had always been scarce in the Nott household. His mother had been gone for a long time, and the little acts of tenderness you described had died with her.

You stood and walked around the table. He didn’t know why he didn’t stop you, didn’t say something sarcastic or brush it off. 

“It’s no big deal,” he muttered, trying to pull his hand away, but you held it gently, your fingers warm against his.

“Let me see,” you said softly, and he couldn’t find it in himself to argue. He held his breath as you leaned down, your lips brushing over his finger in the softest kiss. The contact was fleeting, a whisper of warmth, but it sent his mind reeling. He didn’t understand why something so simple, so childlike, could make him feel… different.

“There,” you said, your voice light as you pulled back. “All better.”

He could only stare at you, his throat suddenly tight. “Yeah… thanks.”

You smiled, returning to your seat like nothing had happened, like you hadn’t just unknowingly changed something in him. Theo’s gaze lingered on you, the phantom of your lips still tingling on his skin. He didn’t know how to process it. No one had ever looked at him that way, treated him that way. 

But he knew one thing for sure—he wanted to feel that again.

The next day, Theo’s mind was still replaying that moment, over and over. It had awakened something inside him, something that ached for more, and before he knew it, he found himself searching for a way to feel it again. This time, though, he didn’t want a kiss on the hand. He wanted more.

Theo found Draco leaning against one of the stone walls outside. He approached him with a strange sort of determination, one that was equal parts reckless and desperate. Draco raised an eyebrow when he saw Theo approaching.

“Need something, Nott?” Draco drawled, clearly amused by the look on Theo’s face.

Theo didn’t waste time with pleasantries. “Punch me,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest.

Draco blinked, clearly taken aback. “What?”

“I need you to punch me,” Theo repeated, his voice steady despite the absurdity of the request.

“Alright, gladly, but why?”

Theo swallowed, his throat dry. He knew it was ridiculous, that this whole plan was absurd, but he needed this to happen. He needed you to kiss him again, to care again. "Just... trust me. I need a bruise, a cut, something that’ll make her—” He cut himself off, his face heating up.

Draco’s smirk only widened, a glint of realization flashing in his eyes. “Ah. Her.” He stood up straighter, clearly intrigued. “So, you’re finally doing something about it. You want me to punch you so she’ll fuss over you. Clever.”

“Just do it, will you?” Theo muttered, trying to ignore the heat creeping up his neck.

Draco shrugged, but there was a mischievous gleam in his eyes. “If you insist.” Without further warning, Draco’s fist came flying toward Theo’s face. He didn’t hold back either—Theo barely had time to register the motion before pain exploded in his mouth. 

He stumbled backward, his hand flying to his lip. Blood welled up immediately, the sharp sting spreading across his jaw.

“Merlin’s beard,” Theo muttered, his vision momentarily swimming. “I said punch me, not break my damn face.”

Draco stepped back, grinning like he had just done Theo the biggest favor in the world. “There. You’re welcome.”

Theo wiped the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand, already thinking about what would come next. He didn’t care about the pain. He didn’t care about anything except the idea of you seeing him like this—hurt, vulnerable—and caring for him again.

He found you in the common room later that day, sitting in your usual spot near the fireplace. You didn’t see him at first—too absorbed in the book you were reading, a small frown of concentration on your face. 

Theo hesitated for a second, suddenly feeling nervous. What if this was a mistake? What if you didn’t react the way he hoped?

But then you looked up, and your eyes immediately widened in shock as you took in the sight of him—blood smeared on his lip, a fresh bruise forming on his jaw.

“Theo!” you gasped, your book forgotten as you rushed over to him. “What happened? Are you okay?”

He tried to shrug it off, leaning casually against the arm of the couch, though the pain in his mouth made it hard to play it cool. “Got into a fight. No big deal.”

You didn’t look convinced. Your fingers hovered near his face, concern etched into your features. “Does it hurt?”

Theo could feel his heart pounding, his mouth dry as the moment he’d been waiting for arrived. His voice was lower than he intended as he muttered, “A little… are you… are you not gonna kiss it better?”

Your expression softened, that same playful smile from the day before returning. “Again, huh?” 

You leaned in, your eyes flicking to his lips, and Theo’s pulse quickened. When your lips brushed his, it was soft, cautious, but this time there was something more to it—something that made the ache in his lip completely disappear.

And just like that, Theo knew he was done for.

Your lips lingered for a moment longer than necessary, and it was enough to set Theo’s blood humming. The softness of your touch felt like a balm, not just for the bruise but for something deeper—something buried in the recesses of his mind that he didn’t want to examine too closely.

When you pulled back, your gaze met his, a flicker of something unreadable crossing your face. Concern? Amusement? Theo couldn’t tell. But what he did know was that he didn’t want that moment to end. Not yet.

"You really need to stop getting into fights," you murmured, shaking your head with a small, exasperated smile. "What were you even thinking?"

Theo almost laughed at the irony. He couldn’t very well tell you the truth—that the whole thing had been orchestrated just for this. Just for the briefest chance to feel your lips on his. 

Instead, he shrugged, playing it off. "You know how it is. Slytherins and Gryffindors don’t mix well."

You rolled your eyes, but there was a softness behind it, something that made Theo’s chest tighten in that unfamiliar way again. “One of these days, you’re going to get yourself hurt for real, and then I won’t be able to kiss it better.”

That sent a jolt of warmth through him, stronger than the pain in his lip. He let the silence stretch between you for a moment, watching as you shifted nervously under his gaze.

"Maybe," he said slowly, his voice low, "I just like the way you kiss me."

Your eyes widened slightly at that, a faint blush creeping across your cheeks. Theo smirked inwardly, relishing the way his words seemed to fluster you. You always had a quick response for everything, but now you were quiet, your lips parting as though you weren’t sure what to say.

“I—” you started, your voice trailing off as you looked down at your hands.

Theo’s heart pounded in his chest. He wanted to reach out, to grab your wrist and pull you back in, to kiss you again but for real this time—not as some excuse to soothe a bruise or a cut.

Before you could speak, a voice cut through the tension like a knife.

“Well, look at you two,” Draco drawled as he strolled into the common room, clearly interrupting something he knew full well was important. “What did I say, Nott? You’re welcome, by the way.”

Theo shot Draco a glare, a deep scowl crossing his face. Of course he had to show up now, just when things were starting to move in the direction he wanted.

You, however, looked between them, confusion evident on your face. “What’s he talking about?”

Before Theo could respond, Draco answered for him, leaning casually against the wall with that insufferable grin. “Oh, nothing. Just that Nott here got himself punched on purpose. Quite the romantic, isn’t he?”

Theo’s heart dropped. He glared at Draco, fury bubbling up in his chest. “Shut it, Malfoy.”

But it was too late. You were already staring at Theo, your eyes wide with disbelief. “Wait… what?”

Theo tried to backtrack, scrambling for some sort of excuse, but he wasn’t fast enough. You took a step back, your brows furrowed in confusion as realization slowly dawned on you.

"You… you let someone punch you just so I’d…?"

The color drained from Theo’s face as he saw the pieces falling into place in your mind.

“I—” he began, his voice unsteady, “It’s not like that.”

You crossed your arms, staring at him like you were trying to decide whether to be angry, amused, or something in between. “Theo, what the hell were you thinking?”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “I don’t know. I wasn’t thinking. I just… I wanted—” He cut himself off again, feeling ridiculous. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.

But you were still looking at him, waiting for an answer, and the weight of your gaze was too much to bear.

“I wanted you to kiss me,” Theo muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your expression softened, the confusion giving way to something else—something gentler. You uncrossed your arms and took a step closer, your eyes searching his face.

"You could’ve just asked," you said softly, a hint of a smile tugging at your lips.

Theo blinked, thrown off by your reaction. He had expected you to be angry, maybe even laugh and walk away. But there you were, looking at him with something that felt dangerously close to fondness.

“You… wouldn’t have laughed at me?” he asked, his voice rough with uncertainty.

You shook your head, your smile growing. “No, Theo. I wouldn’t have laughed.”

Theo didn’t know what to say to that. For a long moment, he just stood there, staring at you, the words dying in his throat. He felt foolish, standing in front of you like this, bruised and vulnerable, all because he didn’t know how to ask for something he wanted so badly.

But then you reached out, your hand gently brushing against his bruised lip again, and all the embarrassment, all the uncertainty melted away.

“If you wanted me to kiss you,” you murmured, stepping even closer, “all you had to do was say so.”

When your lips finally met his, it wasn’t like before. This wasn’t a kiss to make anything better. This was a kiss because you both wanted it.

Theo’s hand cupped the back of your neck, pulling you closer, deepening the kiss. You responded instantly, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pressed yourself against him, and Theo felt like he was drowning, lost in the feel of you, in the way you kissed him like you’d been waiting for this as long as he had.

When you finally pulled back, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting together. “Yeah, I still don’t regret anything,” he muttered.

You smiled, pressing a soft kiss to his lips again. “Next time, just ask, Theo. No more getting hurt.”

Theo nodded, his heart still racing as he held you close, a grin tugging at his lips. “Deal.”

​​ficmas taglist: @winnie1emon @ur-local-wizard @satosugu4-ever @ankoluvs @superstargirll @slytherin-princess-x @abeoavita @mattheoriddle101 @georgiastars13 @smoooore @mattheoriddles-sluttt @2dloveshp @mattysprincess @catching-fire-in-the-wind