people foolishly dismiss desserts and treats as having no nutritional value when they actually are necessary for refilling your sanity stat. to prove my point please observe the emotional stability of the next person you meet who doesnt let themselves ever eat any form of dessert
When I was a little boy, girls used to just do random cartwheels for no reason. Then one day, they stopped. Now that I am a man, no women randomly do cartwheels. This is because society is evil and killed the cartwheel impulse in their soul. They don't even spin horizontally anymore. It's fucked up.
Well everyone she is back at it again. Stealing fics she has changed her blog from kittykat12writes. To loulousblog15 - she has changed it to louisasblog20 and has talked the fics down.
She has also taken to sending harassing a bullying ask to NHL writes she is stealing from after she has been called out. It seems she has deleted all her Harry Potter fics but I’m sure she will be back in yalls fandom again.
Tumblr is a place to express yourself, discover yourself, and bond over the stuff you love. It's where your interests connect you with your
He insists every time to Professor Snape that it’s not his doing, bringing the same weak ass apology as he enters the room minutes pass expected.
Professor Snape never believes him. No professor would. Not when he’s known for being quite the persuader.
But it’s not his fault, truly.
Not that he’s complaining when the reason is entirely because of your pouty clingy self, it's physically inescapable for him to make it on time caught in the tsunami wave of kisses you pile upon him.
You can’t let go yet, too bothered by the idea of departing him for the lunch period. “babe—" he mumbles against your lips, the tone lacking any true authority coming out more like a wounded sigh. Instead, his fingers tighten their hold, his eyes still fluttered shut because it's not as if he cares about his tardiness, but if he's late again, he's sure Snape will have his tongue ceasing all future excuses.
He grins against your lips, when you ignore his warning, shushing any further weak attempts at protest with your tongue, hands cradling his hair you yank him impossibly closer. The two of you lose yourself against the stone walls, a flurry of heat charging between your bodies, it's a sickening display of PDA to the passing students entering the great hall, but all you're hungry for is Mattheo.
“Mr riddle.” The recognizable drawl of Professor Snape squeezes barely breathable space between your bodies, and Mattheo pulls back with a bated breath. That's all the acknowledgment he offers Snape; eyes locked on you taking in the swell of your lips, the dazed gaze of lust struck on him.
He licks his lips with a smug smirk, pressing one final kiss to your cheek whispering a taunting comment that makes you fluster with giggles, before he turns walking past Snape, whistling a tune of satisfied triumph.
hearing anything about the nolan odyssey is so funny. it's like "they cut the extremely important and infamous nobody scene" "the cyclops is a giant puppet that they put in an actual historical cave + gave circe animatronics for her pig transformation instead of cgi" "they dumped plastic skeletons in an environmentally protected location they were not supposed to be in" "they recreated ancient greek instruments in order to have an accurate score" "all of odysseus's agency is basically gone" "anne hathaway actually learned how to weave ancient looms" "the women in this movie are treated like shit" "they actually buried actors alive to get those underworld shots" "did you see what the fuck zendaya was fucking wearing holy shit you can't DO THAT, MA'AM" "what do you mean there was a legitimate epic the musical reference" "NOT A SINGLE FUCKING GREEK WAS CAST IN THIS MOVIE"
like did nolan have two guys standing at his side at all times whispering ideas in his ear and one told the truth and the other told lies and they didnt tell him which was which until they wrapped production cause
summary: (includes smut) a jealous theodore is not one you want to mess with. or maybe, for you, he's exactly what you need.
authors note: i wrote this in 30 minutes on my lunch break. i just couldn't get theo out of my head #workinghardorhardlyworking?!?! anyway enjoy guys!
🌷 masterlist
Theodore Nott doesn’t get jealous. No, he’s too good for an emotion as weak as pitiful enviousness. He’s way above wasting a single second on thinking about someone else. No, the feeling he’s getting from watching you flirt with another man isn’t jealousy. It’s hatred.
Theodore’s not jealous of the way your hand rests on the other Slytherin’s thigh. He’s not jealous of the other man who’s able to see the column of your neck up close when you throw your head back to laugh carelessly. He’s not jealous of your lips grazing the other man’s ear as you whisper something that makes the two of you giggle. Theodore is too busy devising a murder plot to feel jealous.
Theodore isn’t jealous, no. But then, what can he call the growing chasm in his stomach, the one that makes him feel like he’s freefalling? What can he call his roaring heartbeat in his ears, so loud he can barely hear Mattheo talking to him from a few feet away? How can he explain his clenched fists, his tight jaw, his hardened eyes?
Okay, so he might be jealous, which could be a reason for the predicament you’re in now.
“Tell me you’re mine. Say who you belong to, amorina. Say my name.” Theodore’s slow drag of his cock in and out of your wet pussy makes you feel tingles from your toes all the way to your finger tips, your head so far up in the clouds that you can’t even manage to talk properly, slurring your words to the point where they’re almost unintelligible.
“Theo,” you whisper his name, your fingers clenching the sheets under you. “Faster,” you whine desperately, your hips jerking up towards him, needing better friction, more precise movements, needing him deeper.
“That’s not what I said, bambina,” Theodore whispers in that gravelly voice he saves just for when he’s fucking you. “You’re mine. Say it.” He knows it’s irrational, the words he’s saying, because you’re not his. You're not his girlfriend or his partner, you’re not even his friend. You’re acquaintances. But once he found out from a drunk Pansy that your pussy became sopping wet just from making quick eye contact with him, and once he could admit to himself that he became painfully hard just from you sitting next to him, the two of you became, for the lack of a better description, fuck buddies.
You can barely breathe with Theodore’s cock inside you, and the sheer pleasure you feel from this new form of hate sex that you’re experiencing is rendering you completely stupid. So you can’t stop yourself from moaning his name over and over again, saying that you’re his and only his, and that you need him to go faster or you might actually die.
Sex with Theodore was always good, but you make a mental note to make him jealous more often. This was indescribable, his relentless pace, your legs thrown over his shoulders as he bends you into shapes you didn’t even know your body could make, his hand on your throat as he fucks you into the mattress, your moans echoing around the room so loud you’re almost positive someone’s going to walk in on the two of you.
“You going to cum, principessa, huh? Oh, look at you,” Theodore coos softly, acting like he’s not fucking into you so hard you can barely breathe. “Your tongue is falling out of your mouth, amore, be careful.”
“Theo,” you whimper again and again with every thrust. “I-I can’t.”
“Yes you can. I know you can, baby, c'mon. Give it to me. I want to hear my name on your lips as you squeeze my cock. I want to see your face as you cum.”
It’s like his words cast a spell on you; you cum after one particular thrust hits your g-spot, your hands curling into his hair as you convulse under him. You can hear him groan as his hips buck wildly into yours, his body stilling as he pumps a load into you. “Fuck,” you whimper repeatedly, hugging Theodore tight to your chest as the two of you come down from your highs.
“I got you, amore, don’t worry,” he whispers, and it sounds so scarily real and caring that you don’t even know what to think anymore as his soft lips meet yours in a tender kiss. You’re terrified at the way your heart swells, at the way you lose your breath and train of thought. You’re terrified because you might be falling for him.
summary: (includes smut) a jealous theodore is not one you want to mess with. or maybe, for you, he's exactly what you need.
authors note: i wrote this in 30 minutes on my lunch break. i just couldn't get theo out of my head #workinghardorhardlyworking?!?! anyway enjoy guys!
🌷 masterlist
Theodore Nott doesn’t get jealous. No, he’s too good for an emotion as weak as pitiful enviousness. He’s way above wasting a single second on thinking about someone else. No, the feeling he’s getting from watching you flirt with another man isn’t jealousy. It’s hatred.
Theodore’s not jealous of the way your hand rests on the other Slytherin’s thigh. He’s not jealous of the other man who’s able to see the column of your neck up close when you throw your head back to laugh carelessly. He’s not jealous of your lips grazing the other man’s ear as you whisper something that makes the two of you giggle. Theodore is too busy devising a murder plot to feel jealous.
Theodore isn’t jealous, no. But then, what can he call the growing chasm in his stomach, the one that makes him feel like he’s freefalling? What can he call his roaring heartbeat in his ears, so loud he can barely hear Mattheo talking to him from a few feet away? How can he explain his clenched fists, his tight jaw, his hardened eyes?
Okay, so he might be jealous, which could be a reason for the predicament you’re in now.
“Tell me you’re mine. Say who you belong to, amorina. Say my name.” Theodore’s slow drag of his cock in and out of your wet pussy makes you feel tingles from your toes all the way to your finger tips, your head so far up in the clouds that you can’t even manage to talk properly, slurring your words to the point where they’re almost unintelligible.
“Theo,” you whisper his name, your fingers clenching the sheets under you. “Faster,” you whine desperately, your hips jerking up towards him, needing better friction, more precise movements, needing him deeper.
“That’s not what I said, bambina,” Theodore whispers in that gravelly voice he saves just for when he’s fucking you. “You’re mine. Say it.” He knows it’s irrational, the words he’s saying, because you’re not his. You're not his girlfriend or his partner, you’re not even his friend. You’re acquaintances. But once he found out from a drunk Pansy that your pussy became sopping wet just from making quick eye contact with him, and once he could admit to himself that he became painfully hard just from you sitting next to him, the two of you became, for the lack of a better description, fuck buddies.
You can barely breathe with Theodore’s cock inside you, and the sheer pleasure you feel from this new form of hate sex that you’re experiencing is rendering you completely stupid. So you can’t stop yourself from moaning his name over and over again, saying that you’re his and only his, and that you need him to go faster or you might actually die.
Sex with Theodore was always good, but you make a mental note to make him jealous more often. This was indescribable, his relentless pace, your legs thrown over his shoulders as he bends you into shapes you didn’t even know your body could make, his hand on your throat as he fucks you into the mattress, your moans echoing around the room so loud you’re almost positive someone’s going to walk in on the two of you.
“You going to cum, principessa, huh? Oh, look at you,” Theodore coos softly, acting like he’s not fucking into you so hard you can barely breathe. “Your tongue is falling out of your mouth, amore, be careful.”
“Theo,” you whimper again and again with every thrust. “I-I can’t.”
“Yes you can. I know you can, baby, c'mon. Give it to me. I want to hear my name on your lips as you squeeze my cock. I want to see your face as you cum.”
It’s like his words cast a spell on you; you cum after one particular thrust hits your g-spot, your hands curling into his hair as you convulse under him. You can hear him groan as his hips buck wildly into yours, his body stilling as he pumps a load into you. “Fuck,” you whimper repeatedly, hugging Theodore tight to your chest as the two of you come down from your highs.
“I got you, amore, don’t worry,” he whispers, and it sounds so scarily real and caring that you don’t even know what to think anymore as his soft lips meet yours in a tender kiss. You’re terrified at the way your heart swells, at the way you lose your breath and train of thought. You’re terrified because you might be falling for him.
author's note: everyone say thank you to my love @writingsbychlo for fueling my delusions. constantly spamming her with my ideas because i have no self control when it comes to this man. there’s just something about theo fighting that makes me absolutely feral but i’ll hush now before i spoil it 🤭
Theodore. Fucking. Nott.
Those three words fueled your rampage as you marched across the quidditch pitch. The audacity of that cocky, arrogant, silver tongued Slytherin knew no bounds. For years, you tolerated the pompous prick and the rivalry between you, but today he had finally gone too far.
You cleared the field in less than a minute, passing by confused players as you angrily seethed. You spotted a shock of familiar platinum blonde hair and walked right up to Draco Malfoy.
“Where the hell is he?”
He chuckled, perfectly aware of your longstanding enmity with his closest friend. “What’s he done this time?”
“Where. Is. He?” you repeated through gritted teeth. “Don’t make me ask again, Malfoy.”
The blonde paled several shades when he saw the fire burning in your gaze. “Locker rooms. I wouldn’t go in there, Y/N. They’re still shower—“ Draco sighed as you brushed past him. “Whatever, it’s your funeral.”
The locker rooms were steamy, the heat and humidity clinging to your school uniform as you stalked through the aisles. The Slytherin players startled when they spotted you amongst their midst.
“Well, well, well,” Mattheo drawled as he leaned against the wall. A towel hung dangerously low on his hips and he smirked when your eyes flickered over his body. “What do we have here? A sweet little Hufflepuff marching straight into the viper’s den.”
“Where the fuck is he, Riddle?”
Mattheo grinned lazily. “You’re going to have to be more specific than that, sweetheart.”
“You know exactly who I’m talking about. Your arrogant prick of a friend who sent my fucking date to the hospital wing!”
Before you went to sleep last night, you had done so with a grin on your face after a wonderful date with Alec Stone at the Three Broomsticks, but then you arrived at breakfast this morning with no Alec in sight and the rumor mill rampant with talks of Theo pummeling some poor Ravenclaw in the courtyard.
You were going to kill him.
“Sorry, love. Doesn’t ring a bell.”
You frowned, purposely bumping against Mattheo as you walked further down the dimly lit aisle. In your trail for vengeance, you ran into a very flustered looking Enzo who yelped as he sought to cover his very naked torso.
“Y/N,” Enzo said, hastily wrapping a towel around his waist. “What are you doing in the locker rooms?”
Behind him, the sound of the shower running echoed against the marble tiles. “Is he in there?”
Berkshire’s face fell. “You heard about the fight?”
“It wasn’t a fight,” you said angrily. “He pummeled Alec so badly that he’s currently in the hospital wing with a concussion and several broken bones.”
“Just hear him out, okay?”
Your eyes nearly bugged out of your head. “Hear him out? Your precious Theodore beat the absolute shit out of my date and you want me to hear him out? For what? What reason could Theo possibly have for doing what he did to Alec? He couldn’t stand to see me have fun for two fucking seconds? This is low even for him and you know it, Enzo.”
“You don’t know the whole story, Y/N.”
“Well then please point me in the right direction so I can hear from the arsehole himself.”
“He’s in there,” Enzo said, pointing to the shower stalls. “But I’m warning you, Y/N. He’s in a proper foul mood.”
You huffed. “That makes two of us.”
The steam from the showers rose up like a malevolent fog, curling around your feet as you stormed through the stalls. You found him in the farthest corner, water trickling down his back as he faced the tiled wall. His body language was tense, like a serpent preparing to strike. A crimson trail swirled against the marble as blood dripped from Theo’s bruised knuckles. The sight of it incensed you.
“What the hell is wrong with you?”
Theo whipped his head towards your direction, his dark curls plastered against his cheek. Those watercolor eyes were stormy, the blues and greens flickering with anger as he met your gaze.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he said dismissively.
“Bullshit!” You countered, stepping further into the stall. The steam barely covered Theo’s naked form, but you weren’t about to let that deter you from demanding answers. “You owe me a fucking explanation.”
“For what?”
“For what?” you repeated incredulously. “You beat Alec within an inch of his life and that’s all you have to say for yourself? Honestly Theodore, have you gone absolutely mental?”
“He deserved it.”
“Why? Because he took me out on a date? Because you couldn’t stand to let me have this one thing? You absolutely loathe the idea of me being even remotely happy, don’t you?”
Theo clenched his fists as his jaw twitched in anger. “No. I loathe the idea of that miserable excuse of a human being breathing the same air as you.”
“So you beat him to a bloody pulp?”
His voice was cold and icy, cutting through you like glass. “He’s lucky I didn’t do worse.”
“What do you have against Alec?” You moved closer to Theo, closing the gap as you poked his chest. The shower streamed over the both of you, blurring your vision. The water was hot against your skin, but it paled against the heat of your own anger. “What did he ever do to you, Theo?”
Theo gripped your wrist. You were vaguely aware of his nakedness, but he made no move to hide it and you were too furious to even care. “Don’t say his name. I can’t bear to hear you say it after what he said about you this morning.”
You stepped backward, flinching. “What—what are you talking about?”
When you met his gaze, you startled. You’d never seen Theo this angry before. His eyes, which were usually dead and expressionless, burned with a cold sort of fury.
“I heard him in the courtyard, bragging to his stupid friends. I thought he was just chatting shit, so I kept back. I only came down for a smoke, but then he said your name.”
The pit in your stomach grew. “What did he say?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. You weren’t sure you wanted to know. Not if he was this angry over it.
“The stupid fucking prick was talking about your date. The dress you wore. The smiles you gave him. The hand holding through Hogsmeade. Then one of his gormless mates asked if he got lucky.”
You froze at his words as a horrible feeling washed over you. Theo loosened his grip on your wrist, but didn’t let go.
“Do you know what that sodding idiot said? I will, soon enough. I can tell she’s raring to go.”
Tears pricked at your eyes. You felt like you were going to be violently sick.
“And his friends—those miserable fucking wankers started betting on how long it would take. Two dates. Three. A month.” Theo’s hands were shaking, violence spilling over into his veins. “That smug tosser smirked and said he could’ve had you out in the hallway. That’s how eager you were.”
“I barely even touched him!” you said angrily. “I kissed his cheek good night and that was it.”
“I know,” Theo said, his voice low and rough. “I know you. I knew he was lying, so I fucking lost it. I walked over there and just punched and punched until my knuckles were bloody and bruised and all I could see was red. I wanted to wipe that stupid fucking smirk off his mouth.”
You could picture Theo putting out his cigarette ever so calmly before walking over to throw the first punch. You’d seen him fight before. He was relentless. Where Mattheo was pure fire and rage, Theo was as cold as ice. There was nothing but lethal calm in those dead eyes as he delivered blow after blow in absolute silence.
“Eventually, Blaise and Enzo pulled me off of that prick.” He averted his gaze as if remembering the moment. “When his idiot friends finally peeled him off the floor, I spit on the fucker. I told him to consider it a warning. That I’d do a lot worse if I ever heard your name come out of his mouth again. I promised him that a concussion would be the least of his worries if he didn’t stay the fuck away from you.”
The tears fell down your cheeks despite your efforts to keep them in. The anger all but faded from Theo’s eyes as soon as he realized that you were crying. You were so, so stupid. For thinking Alec was a nice guy. For being so giddy after your date only for him to turn around and spit vile lies about you.
For crying in front of your worst enemy.
The color drained from Theo’s face as you cried into your hands. You felt him shift beside you, debating whether or not to come closer.
“Don’t,” you said through a broken sob. “Don’t come near me.”
Theo flinched at your words, looking visibly pained. His voice was soft and soothing when he spoke again. “Tell me how to fix it. Do you want to yell at me? Punch me? Go ahead, love. I can take it.” He sounded desperate. “Just please, please don’t cry.”
You hugged your arms around your waist and glared at him. “Why do you even care?”
He paused, fingers flexing at his side as he fought the urge to reach out and comfort you.
“Because I care about you!” The exasperation in his voice made your chest tighten. “I care that you let that stupid idiot take you on a date to the Three Broomsticks. I care that you fucking smiled at him when he gave you roses even though I know you prefer sunflowers. I care that you kissed him on the cheek when he dropped you off at your dorm.”
You sniffled, utterly perplexed at his words. “I don’t understand. We hate each other!”
Theo visibly softened, the tension leaving his body. “I could never hate you, Y/N.” He reached for your hand. Your first instinct was to pull away, but you let him trace soothing circles on your skin. “I may tease you. Prank you. Annoy you. But I’ve never hated you.”
Theo wiped the dried up tears from your cheeks. No fresh tears, which he took as a good sign. “I don’t even think you remember this, but I tried asking you to the Yule Ball in fourth year.”
The memory surfaced. You were reading by the Black Lake and Theo had asked if you had a date. You said no, to which he promptly asked if he could take you. You left in a huff, thinking that it was just another way to rile you up.
“I thought you were just trying to get a rise out of me. If I would’ve known…”
Theo paused. “How could you not know? How could you not see?”
The rage crashed against you like an errant wave. You didn’t know if you were angry at Theo or yourself, but you exploded either way, unable to keep your emotions under control.
“Because you never told me, you idiot!”
“I never told you, but I showed you.” He smiled crookedly. “I'm not good with words, obviously. Every time I open my mouth it’s like I say the perfect combination of words to piss you off. So I learned to tell you how I felt through my actions.”
“Haven’t you ever wondered why your favorite study spot in the library is always free? That’s because I threatened anyone who came near it. Or how you never seem to run out of quills despite the fact that you manage to break one every day from how hard you write? I always replaced them when you weren’t looking.” Your heart clenched at his words. “I even bribed first years to bring you hot chocolate when I knew you were pulling all nighters.”
You stood there, staring at him. This wasn’t the cocky, arrogant Theo that you knew. He was looking at you so earnestly that it physically hurt how endearing it all was.
“Why would you let me think that you were an inconsiderate jerk this whole time?”
Those hypnotizing eyes pierced right through you, filled with a sadness so heavy that you felt it weighing on your chest.
“Because at least you were thinking of me.”
You swayed gently. The water had long seeped into your bones, making you shiver as all of your clothes stuck to your skin like paper. You were convinced that your body had gone into shock. The range of emotions you were currently experiencing was turbulent to say the least. You stood in stunned silence, just taking it all in. Then the impact of his words hit you all at once.
Theo watched as your bottom lip trembled. Panic seized him as you began crying again, this time not bothering to hide it from him. “Fuck I’m sorry, Y/N. Please don’t cry.”
He didn’t know what to do. Should he comfort you? Should he keep his distance? Theo felt like he was doing a rather exceptional job of mucking things up.
“Why are you saying sorry?” You said between hiccups. “I’m the one who should be apologizing.”
Theo caressed your cheek. So gently. Like he half-expected you to recoil. That only set a fresh wave of tears to spill onto your cheeks.
“You have nothing to apologize for, love.”
“Of course I do!” you nearly wailed. “I’ve been horrible to you. I’ve thought the worst of you, but all this time you were doing all these sweet, considerate things and I never even noticed. You should’ve told me, Theo.”
“I—I didn’t think you’d ever see me that way,” Theo said softly. “It was better to have you hate me and still be part of my life than risking not having you in it at all.”
Because at least you were thinking of me.
It was the saddest thing that you’ve ever heard. For years, Theo settled for being your enemy because he’d rather have your hatred and loathing than indifference. He sustained himself on the bare minimum because he thought that was all he deserved.
“I’m sorry, Theo. I’m so so fucking sorry.”
Theo was absolutely distressed. “Fuck, look Y/N. Let me just finish up here and get my towel and when I’m dry and slightly less naked then we can talk, okay?”
You sniffled, wiping your tears away. There was no way you could wait. Not after everything Theo had just told you. Not after everything that he’s been telling you all these years. Theo had literally and figuratively laid himself bare before you. The least you could do was to even the playing field.
So you unlaced the gold and black tie around your neck. Unbuttoned your blouse and threw it somewhere behind you. Stepped out of your skirt and stared at Theo head on.
“Oh—Merlin’s beard, what in the hell are you doing, Y/N? Are you trying to send me into cardiac arrest?”
You shook your head, smiling slightly. Theo was determined to look everywhere but at your very exposed body. You were still in your bra and panties, but the black lace really didn’t leave much to the imagination. Especially when the water clung to every inch of your skin.
“You were vulnerable with me,” you said simply. “So I’m returning the favor.”
Theo felt like he was definitely headed for an early grave. He tried to think of something—anything—other than the girl he’s been head over heels for since third year standing naked in front of him.
“Theo,” you said softly. His name had never sounded half as good coming out of anyone else’s mouth. He wanted to bottle the sound. “Can I—can I hug you?”
He could’ve sworn that his heart had stopped beating. The air had all but left his lungs, deflating his entire body as though he’d fallen off his broom and plummeted through the sky at breakneck speed.
Theo didn’t recognize his own voice as he said, “Of course you can, Y/N.”
The words were barely out of his mouth before you dashed into his arms, nearly toppling him over from the force of it. You were a tiny little thing, but you were stronger than you looked. He smiled as you wrapped your arms around his neck, standing on your tiptoes as you hugged him. For a minute you and Theo just stood there under the trickling water, holding each other as though you were the only two people alive.
If this was all the affection you were willing to give him, Theo would’ve been content to hold onto you until you grew tired of him. His slender fingers traced down your spine, drawing soothing circles against your skin as you buried your face in the crook of his neck. You felt safe. Like nothing bad could ever happen as long as you were with him.
You couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt like this. There was just this spark between you. Perhaps that was part of the reason why you had been so angry this morning.
It hadn’t just been because Theo sent Alec to the hospital wing, which you were now thankful for after hearing all the disgusting things he said about you. It was also because you thought that he had ruined your chance of feeling that rush with someone else. The same rush you got when the two of you were arguing. The same rush that was noticeably missing when you kissed Alec last night.
Things with Theo had always been electric. You attributed it to mutual loathing, but that wasn’t the full story. Sure he made your blood boil sometimes, but he also made you feel alive. You were terrified to admit it to yourself, which is probably why you said yes to Alec in the first place.
You sighed as Theo’s fingers tangled through your hair. He gently pulled your head back and looked at you in the most heartbreaking way.
“Y/N,” he said hoarsely. Theo’s gaze dipped to your mouth as his arm snaked around your waist. “I think I might die if I go one more second without kissing you. Will you please put me out of my misery, love?”
You couldn’t help but smile. “Gladly.”
Theo held his breath as you pulled him down to you, lips brushing shyly at first. Then you leaned in and kissed him. And he truly and honestly thought that he had died.
Your lips were soft against his, tasting of strawberries and mint toothpaste. He cupped the back of your head and tilted your chin to deepen the kiss. Before, Theo thought he could’ve sustained himself from a simple hug, but right now, he couldn’t even control himself as he gorged himself on your taste.
He chuckled when you tried and failed to get on your tiptoes to offset the height difference between you. Theo caressed your cheek and smiled against your mouth.
“Need some help, love?”
You nodded before pulling him back down again. This time, the tender kisses turned more heated as he locked your legs around his waist and pressed your back against the wall. You gasped as the cold tile made contact with your bare skin and Theo took the opportunity to slide his tongue against yours.
Merlin’s beard. Theo kissed with his entire body. There wasn’t an inch of you that wasn’t touching him and the skin to skin contact set your body on fire. You’d kissed other boys before, but they paled in comparison. You couldn’t get enough of Theo. You ran your fingers through his hair. Wrapped your legs more tightly around his waist. Trailed kisses along his jaw and neck and throat.
Then he fucking moaned.
It was a low, rumbling sound that sent tremors over your body and shook every fiber of your being like a devastating earthquake. You wanted to hear him make that sound over and over again.
“Y/N,” Theo said, his forehead dropping to yours. “Before I lose all sense of self, I want to—no—I need to tell you—”
“What is it, Theo?”
“If we do this, then you have to understand what it means to me,” Theo whispered. “I may be terrible with words, but it’s important for me that you hear me when I say this. I want you. Not just physically, but in every sense of the word. I wanted you in third year when you first told me off for being a dick to the first years and I want you now even though you came in here to defend a prick that definitely doesn’t deserve it.”
“What are you saying, Theo?”
“I want you to be mine, Y/N.”
You beamed. “Like, your girlfriend?”
“I don’t think girlfriend is a strong enough word to express how I feel for you, but it’s a start.” He moved the hair out of your face and cradled your cheek. “So yes, I suppose I do want you to be my girlfriend. I want to hold hands with you in the hallways. I want to look up at the stands during my games and see you cheering me on. I want to take you up to the Astronomy Tower and kiss you under the stars.”
“And you say you’re bad with words,” you teased. “I want to do all those things and more with you, Theodore Nott. Of course I’ll be your girlfriend.”
“Good, cause you’re mine.” Theo said matter-of-factly, those adorable dimples making an appearance on each cheek. “You were mine even before you knew it.”
He kissed you again, but this time it was soft and sweet and it filled your stomach with butterflies. Theo no longer felt the need to hoard as much of your affection as he could because you had just given him the ultimate reassurance that he would have plenty of you in the future.
You sighed contently against him, toying with the curls at the nape of his neck. He shifted, pressing kisses against your neck. Your fingers froze when you felt him stir underneath you.
“Theo,” you said slowly, biting back a smirk. “Is that what I think it is pressing against my leg?”
He groaned. “We’re half naked, in the shower, heavily making out, and you just agreed to be my girlfriend. Of course I’m hard.”
You stifled a laugh. “Theodore Nott, is emotional intimacy turning you on?”
“Everything about you turns me on.”
“That’s helpful to know,” you said with a little smirk. “Especially when we're dueling and I’m losing.”
“Merlin’s beard. My girlfriend’s downright evil.”
You grinned so hard that your cheeks ached. Theo peppered kisses all over your face before setting you down.
“I suppose we should head to dinner soon. My teammates watched you march in here in a fit of rage. They might think you’ve murdered me.”
“There’s only one problem,” you said as you finally turned off the shower. “I’m soaking wet.”
“I bet you are, darling.”
You rolled your eyes. “From the shower, you wanker.”
He grinned and kissed the top of your head. “It’s alright. I’ve got some extra clothes in my locker.”
Ten minutes later, the two of you walked out in the quidditch pitch hand in hand. Theo’s sweater completely enveloped you and he smiled a little at the sight. You received a few interesting stares as you made your way through the castle halls, but one look from Theo and they all quickly found something else to gawk at. Having a scary boyfriend was already paying off.
On the way to dinner, you ran into Enzo. The git had the biggest smile on his face when he saw that you and Theo were holding hands. “So you heard him out after all, huh?”
“Yeah, we sorted out our differences,” you said with a smile. “Coincidentally, I gained a boyfriend out of the whole ordeal. Happy now, Berkshire?”
“Absolutely chuffed,” Enzo said with a grin. “See you lovebirds at dinner.”
Theo rolled his eyes as his friend disappeared into the Great Hall. He turned, squeezing your fingers. “I should warn you. My friends can be a bit…much.”
“Don’t worry, I think we all got fairly acquainted in the locker rooms. If they tease us, well I’ve got a perfectly scary boyfriend to fend them off.”
He chuckled. “A scary boyfriend with an even more terrifying girlfriend.”
You winked, kissing his bruised knuckles. “This school won’t know what hit them.”
“Neither did Alec,” he said with a satisfied smirk. You gave him a reprimanding glare, but it was half-hearted. You didn’t actually feel sorry for the prick. “Sorry. Too soon?”
“You know you can’t punch everyone that says anything bad about me, right?”
“Of course not. I’m perfectly capable of kicking them too.”
You rolled your eyes fondly. “Shut up and kiss me, Theo.”
˚‧⁺ ･ ˖ · ୨ৎ recs I two I gif credits - @/dramaticals
here are some theodore nott stories i’ve read, loved, and reblogged. all the admiration for the writers who share their talent so generously. please be sure to read the warnings on each fic. and if you enjoy them, let the author know by a comment, reblog, or both! ♡
☆ the way i loved you I @angelfic
in which theodore nott will do anything to get you to go out with him, but you’re just as stubborn rejecting him
☆ lessons in love I @obsessedwithceleste
Ft. Enzo being bad at potions, the Ravenclaw common room door, and more than one accidental love confession.
☆ all’s fair in love and quidditch I @/obsessedwithceleste
All’s fair in love and quidditch. At least until Matteo’s poorly aimed bludger knocks you off of your broom.
☆ theodore nott and the fortress of trust issues I @/obsessedwithceleste
Theodore Nott had never been able to cast a patronus. In third year, when dementors were swarming the castle, of course he tried, but was never able to manage more than a whisp of soft silver. Come seventh year, he was painfully unsurprised when his efforts were once again lack luster. Turns out, with the right tutor, casting the formidable charm might not be as impossible as he thought.
☆ til it’s gone I @/obsessedwithceleste
It seemed like they’d always been there. An ever-growing thorn in Theodore’s side. He really didn’t realize what he’d had until it was gone.
☆ mother brother knows best I @/obsessedwithceleste
In which Theodore is no match for the sheer determination of a twelve year old fueled by sugar, pumpkin juice, and spite.
☆ fighting fate I @/obsessedwithceleste
soulmate!au in which everyone sees in black and white until they meet their soulmate. Bold of fate to assume it can tell you what to do.
☆ jealously I @ahqkas
an unexpected situation catches you off guard in the heart of florence and your boyfriend reveals a side of him you’ve never seen before
☆ practice makes it better I @/ahqkas
struggling with the local slang, you feel out of place until you meet theodore nott, the silent slytherin
☆ dealer I @/ahqkas
smoking had never interested you before but when the local dealer catches your eye, you might get the experience of a professional
☆ the odds of affection I deactivated account
where theodore is grumpy and quiet and when the slytherin’s take note of how he always gives reader forehead kisses, they’re rather shocked.
☆ fools I @luv4freddie
in which the only Hufflepuff friend in the group of slytherins develops a crush on Theodore Nott— something only fools do.
☆ shut up kiss me I @theostrophywife
☆ written in the stars I @/theostrophywife
☆ kiss with a fist I @/theostrophywife
☆ lovebites and potions I @caramelcal
☆ not even the addressee I @kaciebello
When Theodore's name gets misspelled he's not happy about it.
☆ the sirens task I @frost-queen
☆ the letter I @spectorgram
you get a letter from a secret admirer who wants to confess. your best friend is none too pleased.
☆ eyes wide open I @/spectorgram
you discover that there is so much more to theodore nott than you thought.
☆ flustered and blushing I @amourane
in which you're a flustered mess around theo nott and he absolutely adores it.
☆ why can’t we love freely I @/amourane
you're tired of being a secret and it was time to let theo know.
☆ so this is love I @/amourane
there's a weird feeling that erupts in theo's chest whenever he looks at you and for the first time in his life his mind goes silent.
☆ down the rabbit hole I @/amourane
in which it's blatantly obvious that theodore nott has fallen down the rabbit hole of love.
☆ little dragon I @retrobutterflies
You are not a fan of one of his admirers and he thinks you are a pretty idiot.
☆ i think he knows I @dreamcubed
you had fancied the mysteriously quiet slytherin boy for as long as you could remember (since first year), and, quite frankly, your best friend was sick of you going on about it without ever making a move
☆ you need to calm down I @/dreamcubed
after returning to hogwarts for a subsidiary 8th year to make up for the loss of 7th year due to the war, you are a completely different person, and muggle-born-hating theo finds himself obsessed with you
☆ tired I @mrsmikaelsxn
you were theo's childhood best friend and he waits for a time when you will love him back
☆ try that again I @distantdarlings
Pansy finds out that a group of Gryffindor girls has had a lot to say about you and your relationship with Theodore Nott. They think you won’t do anything about it, but you prove them wrong.
☆ house pride I @/distantdarlings
Theo is pissed that you seem to be interested in other guys. The two of you are not officially dating so you find it ridiculous that you can't talk to whomever you want. You have feelings for Theo, though, and think it might be interesting to put his jealousy to the test.
☆ by the fireplace I @/distantdarlings
You have been an Animagus for around a year now. You have quite a knack for learning everything you need to know about it quickly and Professor McGonagall really likes you. However, a fellow classmate, Theodore Nott, does not like you. And you couldn't care less. Both of you are in for a surprise when you accidentally meet in the library.
☆ one star rating of dirty talking I @darkmagic-s
Sexting through note passing, one of Theodore's favourite ways to bother you.
☆ you understand I @lexamiele
Hogwarts students aren't exactly known for minding their own business. Thankfully, you and Theo speak a language they don't.
☆ august I @cassiopeiasdaughter
Theo asks you to be his fake-girlfriend but you understand the assignment a little too well.
☆ gold rush I @/cassiopeiasdaughter
loving Theo in secret was not something you had ever planned
☆ invisible string I @/cassiopeiasdaughter
you get married in the middle of the night during the war
☆ i could never not love you I @battinscn
theodore nott is a self sabotaging selfish bastard. he jumps to conclusions too quickly and is too hot headed for his own good. you never thought you would ever be one to experience it first hand. yet, despite it all, you could never find it in you to truly hate him.
☆ i hate you I @/battinscn
tate has a very special lucky broom he relies on for every match. when you accidentally step on it, he loses his temper.
☆ trust me I @/battinscn
theodore’s always had a hard time trusting other. but you would think being his girlfriend that he would have some faith in you. turns out you were terrible wrong and one day, you had finally reached your limit.
☆ missing you I @/battinscn
theodore’s job takes him away from you a lot and hi here understanding for the most part. but after countless broken promises, you had enough.
☆ his hufflepuff I @yoursecrett
You were known as the sweetest Hufflepuff at Hogwarts, from tutoring students to being Madam Pomfrey's helper, you were constantly busy you liked it that way... Theodore Nott - The Slytherin Prefect, you had caught his attention, and everyone knows Theodore Nott never gives up on something or someone he wants.
☆ sugar rose I @0luv9
Fool in love, bright like silver, shinning for everyone to see. Life has never been this good for Theo and he'll go out of his way to keep it that way. Or Theodore being utterly and unapologetically in love with you.
☆ between the shelves I @weasleyreidstyles
☆ blind date I @magiclostinfantasy
Y/N and Theo's friends set them up on a blind date, not knowing they've secretly been dating.
☆ karma I @wordsarelife
karma is the way you wear his jersey, making sure his team will lose the game
☆ moonlight and masks I @gemissleeping
Newly turned Death Eater Theodore Nott is tasked with hunting down Harry Potter and the Order Operative protecting him. Only to discover the person he hunts happens to be the one he loves.
☆ anything for you I @aemondsi
in a universe where voldemort won, you and theo risk everything.
☆ nonsense I @writingsbychlo
you got that holiday glee from your true love.
☆ secret notes I @sunshinelollipopsicle
theodore and you begin leaving notes for each other, you knowing it's him but him unaware it's you, and eventually, you agree to meet in person
☆ dreaming of saturn I @thestarsarebrightertonight
theodore nott seems so out of reach to most people yet you have him right in your arms
☆ cinnamon girl I @/thestarsarebrightertonight
everyone knows you have a crush on theo , even he knows! so when you randomly start avoiding him one day , theodore cant help but go crazy.
☆ seeker I @crimsntwlip
☆ clandestine I @puffleyia
Mattheo can not seem to place his finger on what exactly you have been keeping from him. He confides in his best friend, Theo, though he ends up cutting the conversation short due to some urgent matters. (aka, you)
☆ for the first time I @vintagebishx
in which, the usual womaniser finds himself in love with a girl who doesn’t even know his name…
☆ no smoke, only love in the air I @papercorgiworld
When the guys notice that you don’t like their smoking habit they quit, but dealing with the withdrawal has your boyfriend constantly needy for a kiss.
☆ pansys interrogation I @/papercorgiworld
Weird behaviour and rumours have Pansy asking questions and figuring out who the guys are crushing on.
☆ theo I @/papercorgiworld
The things Theodore Nott does for love.
☆ babysitting I @rainyreading
☆ the only heaven i’ll be sent to (is when i’m alone with you) I deactivated account
Best friends get dared to play seven minutes in heaven but they just sit and talk the whole time and somehow manage to admit their feelings for each other
☆ our secrets are buried I deactivated account
where they go on a double date with separate dates but they spend the whole time flirting with each other
Summary: Convincing Mattheo to wear a clay mask was hard enough. Convincing the rest of the boys? Before long, Slytherin's toughest boys are sitting around in fluffy headbands with freshly painted nails, questioning every life decision that led them here.
Warnings: None!
A/N: Requests are open! Comment to be added to my tag list!
Masterlist
————————————————————————
"Matty, please."
"No. Hard pass."
"Baby, I swear it'll help you relax."
"I'm not putting that shit on my face, sweetheart."
Mattheo side-eyed the clay mask you'd already applied to your own face.
The two of you were in the bathroom attached to your dorm.
You sat on the counter while Mattheo stood between your legs.
"It looks disgusting."
"It'll help you relax!"
"I don't know how anyone can relax with mud on their face."
You rolled your eyes.
"It isn't mud. C'mon, Matty. Just try it. For me?"
Mattheo hated when you gave him puppy eyes.
They always worked.
"You're insufferable, you know that? Fine. But only a thin layer."
You grinned and reached for one of your pink headbands.
"I'm not wearing that."
"Well, unless you want clay getting into those beautiful curls of yours..."
Mattheo huffed.
"Fine. But you're not telling anyone."
"No promises."
You carefully slipped the headband over his curls before opening the container of clay mask.
"Ready?"
Scooping a little onto your fingertips, you gently spread the cool mask across his cheek.
Mattheo closed his eyes and leaned closer, bracing his hands on either side of you.
"Mask feel good?"
"No. Your hands do."
You snorted.
"Flirt."
"You like it."
"Maybe."
You continued spreading the mask over the rest of his face.
The room settled into a comfortable silence.
"You look relaxed."
"I'm always relaxed with you."
"Mhm."
"What? It's true."
"Maybe. Or maybe you just don't want to admit the mask is actually working."
Mattheo let out a quiet laugh.
"That's not an answer."
"Shhh. Just apply the mask."
"Topic changer."
Mattheo opened one eye.
"All done."
"So, how long does this need to dry?"
"About twenty minutes."
"Yours is already half dry."
"That's because I put mine on first."
"Great."
"Don't be grumpy. We can do something else while we wait."
"Like what?"
"Well..."
A mischievous smile spread across your face.
"I could paint your nails."
Mattheo froze.
"No. Absolutely not. That's where I draw the line."
"It'll help pass the time! Besides, we can take it off afterward."
"No."
"Oh, pleeease, Matty. I need the practice. And your nails have been through enough after Quidditch."
"Sweetheart..."
"Please?"
You wrapped your arms around his waist.
Mattheo sighed dramatically.
"Fine. But not a word to anyone. Understood?"
"Pinky promise."
You held out your pinky.
He hooked his around yours before lifting your hand and pressing a quick kiss to your finger.
"Okay, stay here. I'm going to grab my nail polish."
"Hurry before I change my mind."
Ten minutes later...
The two of you sat cross-legged on your bed, surrounded by plushies and bottles of nail polish.
Mattheo's nails were now painted a very bright shade of pink.
"Sooo... what do you think?"
He examined them critically.
"Hmm. You went outside the lines." He nodded thoughtfully. "B-minus."
You gasped.
"After all my hard work making you pretty and pink, I get a B-minus?"
The dorm room door suddenly swung open.
Both of you looked up.
Lorenzo stepped inside.
"Hey, have you seen my wa-"
He stopped dead.
"...Bloody hell, Riddle."
Mattheo's face immediately turned scarlet.
"Get out."
"Oh, absolutely not."
Lorenzo doubled over laughing.
"Blaise! Theo! You have to see this!"
Mattheo pointed an accusing finger at him.
"If either of them walks through that door, I'm throwing you out the window."
"With pink nails?" Lorenzo grinned. "Very intimidating."
The sound of hurried footsteps echoed down the corridor.
"Oh no," you muttered.
Theo appeared in the doorway first, followed by Blaise.
The room fell silent.
Theo looked at Mattheo.
Then at the pink nails.
Then at the fluffy headband.
"...I'm not saying a word."
Blaise snorted.
"I am."
Mattheo narrowed his eyes.
"Choose your next sentence very carefully."
Blaise folded his arms, clearly trying not to laugh.
"So... whose idea was the manicure?"
Mattheo jerked a thumb toward you.
"Hers."
You gasped dramatically.
"And who agreed to it?"
Mattheo opened his mouth.
Closed it.
"...That isn't the point."
"It is exactly the point," Theo said, fighting a smile.
Lorenzo was practically wheezing by now.
"I've known you for years, Riddle, and somehow this is the scariest you've ever looked."
Mattheo frowned.
"Shut up"
Lorenzo burst into another fit of laughter.
"You don't get a say. Your nails are pink."
You couldn't help laughing too.
Then an idea popped into your head.
You smiled mischievously.
*Twenty minutes later.*
Mattheo looked around the room with far too much satisfaction.
Lorenzo, Theo, and Blaise sat in a row on your bed, each wearing a fluffy headband and a drying clay mask.
Pansy sat beside you, grinning as she carefully painted Theo's nails a deep blue.
You were busy painting Lorenzo's bright lavender.
"I hate all of you," Lorenzo muttered.
"You've said that three times already," Theo replied.
"And I'll say it a fourth."
Blaise sighed dramatically.
"I knew walking into this room was a mistake."
Mattheo leaned against the wall, arms crossed.
"I warned you."
"You absolutely did not," Lorenzo shot back.
Pansy held up Theo's hand.
"Ooh. These are cute."
Theo stared at his freshly painted nails.
"I've never been more conflicted in my life."
You smiled innocently.
"Who's next?"
Three heads snapped toward you.
"Draco."
————————————————————————
Tag list - @pbjts @bunnieeegohop @mooniez @ithinkaboutyouuu @yourstargirlyyy @foolintherainnn
The heavy thud of the door closing behind you echoed through the small flat, a sound that seemed to reverberate through the emptiness of your chest. You kicked off your shoes, not caring where they landed, and stumbled into your room. Your head swirled with the echoes of the interview panel's cold words: "You're not ready." "You should work on yourself." "Your anxiety makes it difficult to see you in this role."
The sting of those words felt sharper with every step you took. You sank down onto the floor the moment you reached your bed, your back pressing against the chipped wooden frame as the tears came, unstoppable. Hot and unrelenting, they poured down your cheeks, your breaths coming in shallow, erratic gasps as if the air itself had turned against you.
You felt like a failure—to yourself, to your family. They had been so proud when you graduated, certain you’d find your place in the world. But instead, you were here, stuck, unable to move forward. The thought of their disappointed faces made your stomach twist. You clutched your arms tightly around yourself, as though holding your own body together could stop the sharp ache radiating from within.
The sobs came harder now, a raw, guttural sound tearing from your throat as the despair fully took hold. It wasn’t just the failed interviews, though they were enough to crack anyone. It was the suffocating loneliness that wrapped itself around you like a second skin. It was the nagging thought that you were useless, that everyone who had ever believed in you had been wrong. You pressed your forehead against your knees, your breaths shallow and quick, your chest tightening to the point of pain. For a moment, you genuinely felt like you couldn’t breathe, like the weight of your own existence was crushing you.
Your tear-filled eyes roamed aimlessly, desperate for something to anchor yourself, when they landed on the edge of a wooden box poking out from beneath your bed. The sight of it pierced through the haze of anguish, stopping you cold. You wiped at your face with trembling hands, sniffling as you reached forward and dragged the box into the light.
You stared at it, your fingers hesitating on the lid. You hadn’t opened it in so long, not since you shoved it under the bed on your first night back from Hogwarts. But you knew exactly what was inside. This was where you had hidden everything—every letter, every photograph, every fragment of a life you had tried to forget. A life that included him.
Every piece inside belonged to him—letters folded in his messy handwriting, scraps of notes passed between classes, a familiar hoodie you’d stolen from him one night after a party, a forgotten tie he’d wrapped around your wrist one summer night when he joked about marking you as his.
Your trembling fingers brushed over a photograph of the two of you ,you were laughing in the picture, and he was staring at you like you’d hung the stars in the sky.
The ache in your chest tightened.
You remembered how he lied to you, how he swore it was to protect you, but it hadn’t mattered. You’d told him how much you hated liars, how much their betrayals gutted you, yet he’d hidden the truth anyway.
He’d found his father’s diary—the relic of a dark legacy he was desperate to escape. He’d told no one, not even you, and when you’d discovered it, it felt like every fear you’d ever had about him came crashing down. He’d been protecting you, yes, but he’d also betrayed the fragile trust you’d built.
You grabbed the hoodie, It was his scent that hit you first, faint and faded but still undeniably him. You clutched the hoodie to your chest, your body trembling as a sob tore through you. Pulling it over your head, you sank to the floor again, letting the fabric drown you in the warmth you’d once felt in his arms.
Even after everything, even knowing he’d chosen you over the darkness of his family, you had left him. You left because looking at him reminded you of every betrayal, every lie you’d ever endured. He’d chosen you, but you couldn’t handle the weight of his choices, the scars they left on him and you. You couldn’t stay, even when you needed him more than anything even when he needed you more than anything .
He chosen you he fight his father he stand with the people who hate him since he was a child and proved them all wrong.
"I did it for you," he had said, voice broken and desperate the night you walked away. "I’ve always done it for you."
And yet, you left. You had to.
Now, sitting in the remnants of what you’d once been together, the pain in your chest was unbearable. You couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. You had to get out.
you left the house. The rain was relentless, cold and sharp as it soaked through your clothes, but you didn’t care. You didn’t take an umbrella, didn’t even glance back at the house. You just walked, aimless at first, the streets blurring around you as the tears mixed with the rain.
But you knew where you were going. You always did.
You’d asked Theo once, offhandedly, where Mattheo lived now. He’d told you.
You had no right to show up there, no right to reopen wounds that had barely begun to heal, but your feet carried you forward anyway.
When you reached his house, your heart pounded so hard it drowned out the rain. You stood at the gate, soaked and trembling, staring at the door as if it might open on its own. Taking a shaky breath, you pressed the button for the intercom, the static buzzing in your ear as you tried to find the words.
"Mattheo," you said, your voice cracking. "This is Y/N. Can... can you..." The words died in your throat, and you clenched your fists. "No. Forget it." You stepped back, shaking your head, your tears blending with the rain.
But you couldn’t leave. You turned back, pressing the button again, your voice desperate now. "Mattheo, please. Can you open the door? I just—I just want to see you."
Nothing.
You pressed the button a third time, your voice breaking completely. "I know I shouldn’t be here. I know I left, and I hurt you. But I—I couldn’t stop thinking —— just please, Mattheo. Just—just let me see you."
The silence on the other end felt deafening. You thought you might collapse right there, your chest tight and your heart threatening to shatter. He didn’t want to see you. He wasn’t going to open the door.
You turned to leave, your steps heavy and reluctant as you walked back down the path.
Then you saw him.
He was just getting out of a car, his movements freezing when his eyes landed on you. His name was on your lips, but no sound came out. You stopped in your tracks, drenched and trembling, staring at him as he stared back.
"Y/N," he whispered, he looked at you like you were a ghost, his dark eyes scanning your tear-streaked face, your shaking frame. "What the hell...?"
He dropped whatever he was holding and walked toward you. "What are you doing here? You're soaked. You're—"
"I..." Your voice broke, and the words stuck in your throat. "I didn’t know where else to go."
His jaw clenched, and for a moment, you saw the storm of emotions behind his eyes—anger, worry, confusion, and something softer, something that made your heart ache even more.
He sighed, running a hand down his face before stepping closer. "Come inside," he said finally, his voice softer now, though the tension remained.
When you hesitated, he frowned. "Y/N, you’re soaked. You’ll get sick."
His hand brushed your arm, sending a shiver through you that had nothing to do with the rain.
The moment he closed the door behind you, his sharp eyes immediately landed on the hoodie you were wearing—_his hoodie._ His jaw tightened, and his gaze flickered with something unreadable before he drew in a breath.
"I’m going to need you to take that off," he said, "You’re soaked, and you’re shaking. I’ll grab you something else to wear."
You opened your mouth to protest, but he was already moving
You stood frozen, still clutching the edges of the hoodie like a lifeline as he returned with a thick, soft blanket and a dry sweater. He didn’t look at you directly as he placed them on the back of a chair. "Take the hoodie off," he said again, softer this time. "You’ll catch pneumonia like this."
You hesitated, and he sighed, raking a hand through his hair. "Y/N, I’m serious. Change into this and sit by the fire. I’ll make some tea or... something."
He walked away, his shoulders stiff, leaving you to do as he asked. When he returned, a steaming mug in one hand and a towel slung over his arm, you had swapped the hoodie for the sweater he’d left. He stopped short when he saw you curled up near the fire, your knees pulled to your chest. His expression softened, but his walls remained up.
"Better?" he asked, crouching beside you and placing the mug on the table.
You nodded, though your trembling hands gave you away. He reached for the towel, pausing for a moment before gently patting your hair dry. His movements were careful, deliberate, as if touching you might shatter you—or him.
"You shouldn’t have come out in the rain like that," he said, his tone low and even, though there was a flicker of something raw in his eyes. "What were you thinking?"
"I wasn’t," you admitted, your voice cracking. "I just... I needed to see you."
He stilled, his hand lingering near your shoulder before pulling away entirely. His jaw clenched, and for a moment, he looked like he was about to say something, but he stopped himself.
"Do you remember… second year? When you found me crying in the Astronomy Tower after I got a C in my Transfiguration exam?"
"Yeah," he said quietly. "I remember."
"I’d been trying so hard," you said, the words tumbling out in a fragile rush. "I was so scared of disappointing everyone—my professors, my parents. But you… you just sat with me. You didn’t say anything at first, and then you started telling me about the time you nearly set your own robes on fire in Charms class."
A ghost of a smile flickered across his face, so faint you almost missed it. "I still have the scorch marks on this tie somewhere."
The silence stretched between you after your confession, the only sounds in the room coming from the rain hammering against the windows and the soft crackle of the fire. Mattheo’s gaze stayed fixed on the floor.
You looked at him, your throat tightening. "That’s what you did, Mattheo. You were always there for me. Always knew what to say, what to do to make me feel like I wasn’t drowning."
The words hung in the air, fragile and heavy at the same time. His face darkened, and his jaw clenched.
"And I wasn’t there for you," you whispered, your voice breaking. "Not when it mattered. Not when you needed me."
Mattheo stood abruptly, the motion sharp and full of barely contained anger. He paced a few steps away, his hands raking through his hair before he turned back to you, his eyes blazing.
"What the fuck are you doing here, Y/N?" he demanded, his voice low but filled with a fury that.
"I—"
"No," he interrupted, his tone sharper now. "Why are you here? After everything? After _you_ left, after you tore me apart and acted like I was nothing to you?"
"Mattheo, please," you whispered, tears streaming down your face.
"No!" he snapped. "You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to show up out of nowhere, wearing my hoodie, dredging up memories, and—" His voice cracked, and he turned away, raking his hands through his hair.
You flinched at his words, your breath hitching. "I—I don’t know," you admitted, tears pooling in your eyes. "I was hurt too!"
His jaw clenched, his hands balling into fists at his sides. "You were hurt?" he snapped, his voice rising. "You left, Y/N. You fucking _left_. When I needed you most, you walked away. Do you know what that did to me? Do you have any idea how it felt? to lose you—too?"
"Do you even know what it felt like Mattheo? Thinking you betrayed me? Thinking you were just like everyone else who lied, who hid things from me? I thought you were protecting them—not me. And it broke me, Mattheo. It broke everything I thought we had."
He froze, his chest rising and falling heavily, but his expression didn’t soften.
His jaw tightened, his knuckles turning white as his fists clenched at his sides. "You think I wasn’t broken too?" he snapped. "I _lost everything,_ Y/N. My family, my name—everything. And I didn’t care, because I chose _you_. And you left anyway"
Your heart shattered at his words, but you forced yourself to speak. "I was scared! I didn’t know how to stay, Mattheo. I thought—I thought I’d just make everything worse."
His laugh was bitter, cutting through you like a knife. "You did," he said coldly. "You made everything worse by running away."
“I felt like I was responsible for your pain,” you said, choking on the words. “Your choice, your loss—it felt like my fault. And I didn’t know how to deal with that. I didn’t know how to face you without seeing everything I thought I’d destroyed.”
“Do you hear yourself? You left because _you_ couldn’t deal with _my_ pain? That’s rich, Y/N. Real fucking rich.”
“You have every right to hate me,” you said, your voice breaking. “I was wrong. God, I was so wrong. But it’s happened, Mattheo. And somehow, I’m still here, breathing, hurting. I look at myself, and I see everything I’ve ruined. Look at me.” You gestured to yourself, tears streaming down your face. “Look at how fucked up I am. I wasn’t strong enough to stay, and now I’m barely holding it together. It’s like some fucked-up punishment, but I deserve it.”
He stared at you, his expression hard, unmoving.
“You think this is about you deserving punishment?” he said, his voice laced with venom. “You think your guilt makes this better for me?
“Stop,” you whispered, your voice trembling as his words stabbed deeper. “Mattheo, stop—”
“No, you don’t get to tell me to stop,” he shot back. “You don’t get to show up out of nowhere and act like you care now.”
“I love you!” you cried, the words ripping from your throat. “I love you, Mattheo. I always have, and I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”
He froze, his chest heaving, his fists clenched at his sides. For a moment, you thought he might say something—might give you even a sliver of hope.
“Do you?” you whispered, your voice breaking as you met his eyes. “Do you still love me, Mattheo?”
The silence stretched between you, unbearable, suffocating. He looked at you, his breathing uneven, his jaw tight. The seconds dragged on, each one feeling like an eternity.
Finally, he spoke, his voice cold and distant. “You can stay the night. You can’t go out in the rain like that and leave tomorrow.”
And then he turned and walked away, leaving you standing there, staring after him.
You watched him disappear down the hall, his silhouette swallowed by the shadows of the house. Your gaze drifted to the fireplace, the flickering flames casting a dull glow on the room.
You couldn’t stay. Not when he wouldn’t look at you, not when his words sliced through you like a blade, leaving wounds that felt too raw to ever heal. The fire crackled behind you as you stood by the door, frozen for a moment, before you gripped the handle and twisted it.
The rain greeted you with an icy embrace, drenching you instantly as you stepped outside. It poured relentlessly, soaking through your clothes and clinging to your skin as you stumbled down the path, your tears mingling with the rain.
Each step felt heavier than the last, your chest tightening with every sob that ripped through you. The cold bit at your skin, but it was nothing compared to the ache that clawed at your heart.
The rain blurred your vision, or maybe it was your tears. It didn’t matter. You didn’t care where you were going. You only knew that you couldn’t stay.
“You’re leaving again?”
The voice shattered the storm, sharp and rough, cutting through the pounding rain and your spiraling thoughts.
You stopped dead in your tracks, your breath catching as you turned. There he was, standing a few paces behind you, his hair drenched, his chest heaving, his eyes burning with something you couldn’t name. Anger? Hurt? Desperation?
“You can’t just show up to leave again,” he said, his voice tight, low, and trembling with restraint as he stepped toward you.
“You told me to leave,” you choked out, your voice trembling as your tears spilled freely. “It doesn’t mattering it’s now or tomorrow.”
“Fuck, it does,” he snapped, running a hand through his wet hair as the rain continued to pour. “It does, Y/N.”
“What are you even saying?” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the rain, breaking under the weight of his words.
Mattheo took another step forward, his eyes blazing despite the rain streaking his face. He was trembling, not from the cold but from something far more volatile, far more vulnerable.
“Ask me again,” he said.
You blinked, your breath hitching. “What?”
“Ask me again, Y/N,” he demanded, his tone a mixture of desperation and fury. “Ask me if I still love you.”
Your heart stopped, the weight of his words hitting you like a tidal wave. You opened your mouth to respond, but no sound came out.
“Go on,” he urged, his voice breaking now. “Fucking ask me, Y/N.”
“Do you… do you still love me?” you finally whispered, the words fragile, trembling like you were.
He didn’t answer. Not with words.
His hands grabbing your waist as he pulled you to him with a force that stole your breath. The kiss came hard and fast, his lips colliding with yours like he’d been starving for this moment. His hands were everywhere—cupping your face, gripping your waist, pulling you closer as though he could fuse your bodies together and make up for all the time you’d lost.
You gasped against his lips, your hands clutching at his shirt, desperate to hold onto something solid as he kissed you like his life depended on it. The rain poured harder, drenching you both, but you couldn’t feel the cold anymore—not with the heat of his lips, the way his tongue slid against yours, the way his hands gripped you like he was terrified you’d disappear again.
“Mattheo,” you whispered against his lips, but he didn’t let you finish.
“Don’t,” he muttered, as he broke the kiss just long enough to lift you off your feet. His hands slid to the backs of your thighs, and you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist. He pulled you tighter against him, his lips finding yours again, this time slower but no less desperate.
It wasn’t just a kiss—it was everything. Every word unsaid, every tear shed, every moment of longing you’d both endured. He kissed you like he was pouring every ounce of pain, anger, and love he’d carried into you, as though he could make you feel just how much he still wanted you, needed you.
“I hate you for leaving,” he murmured against your lips, his voice raw, breaking with emotion. “But fuck, I love you too much to let you go again.”
“I’m sorry,” you gasped, tears mingling with the rain as you clung to him, your fingers tangling in his wet hair. “I’m so sorry, Mattheo.”
His forehead pressed against yours, both of you breathing hard as the rain continued to pour, but neither of you cared.
