Theodore Nott x Female Reader
Summary: You kiss Theo infront of his friends.
You had just gotten out of class after a long day, and the only thing you wanted was to be with your boyfriend. You found him in the backyard, sitting on a bench with his legs spread, surrounded by his friends. A cigarette between his fingers, the easy laughter of his friends around him, and that way of taking up space as if it belonged to him.
He didn’t need to lift his head to notice you. He did anyway, and the smile that spread across his face was so shameless it made your pulse race.
“It’s about time,” he said, clicking his tongue as if he’d been counting the seconds.
With a gesture, he patted his thigh softly. Clear invitation. You hesitated for barely a moment, but gave in, sitting on him, aware of the knowing glances from the others. Theo didn’t care. Neither did you, not in that moment.
His breath brushed against your ear as he whispered. “Hi, gorgeous.”
You turned, and his lips found yours without hesitation. The kiss was slow at first, like a provocation, until his tongue pushed through and pulled a soft moan out of you. Theo smiled against your mouth, satisfied.
“See you later, guys,” he murmured as he lifted you effortlessly.
He carried you down a hallway, away from the noise. He pinned you against the wall, one arm firm around your waist. He took a long drag from his cigarette and watched you, his eyes half-lidded through the smoke.
“Did you miss me?” he asked, with that low voice that seemed to slip right under your skin.
You didn’t answer. You didn’t need to. Your lips sought his again, and Theo leaned in to return the kiss. He shared part of the smoke with you, suffocatingly intimate. You gave it back the same way, until he let out a quiet laugh against your mouth.
He kissed you again, hungrier, his fingers digging into your hip, his body pressed against yours with no space left between. In every pause, his lips only brushed yours, murmuring between ragged breaths,
“You’re mine.”
And you felt it in every word, every touch, every exhale laced with mint and smoke that clung between you both.
His hand slid down to your thigh, moving boldly upward until he gripped it hard as he kissed you again. The other got lost in your hair, tugging just enough to force your mouth open wider. The taste of tobacco and mint mixed with his tongue, intoxicating, filthy, impossible to ignore.
When he finally pulled away, breathing heavy, he barely brushed your lips with his own, mocking.
“You’re not getting away from me, sweetheart,” he whispered, smiling like a predator, “not here, not anywhere.”