#theo nott imagine

[storiesofmyhead]

Can someone please request an X Reader! I’m in a writing block😭

Any of these fandoms

- Twilight!!

- ATLA

- Harry Potter

The Hunger Games!!

[crumblecreamery]

Why'd You Only Call Me When You're High- Theodore Nott

CW: mdni, unprotected vaginal sex, emotional detachment, hairpulling, multiple orgasms, creampie, some dirty-talk, angst, filthy description, pathetic Hufflepuff reader

A year ago, if someone had told you that you'd be Theo Nott's dirty little secret, you would've looked at them like they were crazy.

Just like water and oil don't mix, Slytherins and Hufflepuffs belong in two distinct circles that never intersect. Especially when one is a Nott heir, belonging to a family ingrained on the altar of the Sacred Twenty-Eight and descended from one of the most revered and influential lineages. And the other- well, a halfblood witch with a father in a low-ranking position at the Ministry and a muggleborn mother who owns a humble florist in Diagon Alley.

But here you are, as you have been for the past seven months, leaning against the edge of a dusty table in an abandoned classroom. Waiting. Sometimes he comes, sometimes he just leaves you standing there. You wonder if it is a way of reminding you that you're beneath him. That one day, he can just stop whatever this is and you'll have no choice but to accept it.

No. But he has to come. Tonight, he's left you with a note, summoning you, and you hate the way your heart did that foolish leap when you'd read it. Like it meant that he wanted you.

You know where to go. Don't be late, it read. It'd been unsigned, but you knew immediately that it was him.

Really, you should feel a deep sense of humiliation that you so readily embrace him each time he chooses to show up. Like he's the prize. Like he's some sort of drug that you had a taste of once and became addicted to, craving another dose every night you can get it.

Theo disregards you in the hallways, brushing right past you with his group of infamous friends as though you're no more than a stranger. In the Great Hall, his eyes scan the room, jumping right over your hopeful gaze from the Hufflepuff table, and when he does acknowledge you, it's a flat, bored-sounding greeting of your last name. One time, you'd tripped and spilled the pile of books in your arms all over the library floor, and he didn't even spare a glance. He just kept walking.

He treats you like you're no more than chewed gum stuck on the bottom of his boots, and pathetically, you continue to gravitate towards him like moth to a flame.

The door creaks open, illuminating a sliver of the corridor light into the dim room. Theo steps inside, clicking the door shut behind him. Within these four walls, the world is reduced to whatever fucked-up arrangement the two of you share.

His gaze lands on you, catatonic eyes unbetraying as he closes the distance, until you can smell the intoxicating scent of smoke, aged-parchment, and something so uniquely him that plagues you in your sleep.

"You received my note," he mutters. Not sorry for being an hour late. Not how have you been. But a rhetorical question that cannot be more painfully obvious as you stand before him and nod.

"Alright," Theo breathes, and then his hand pulls you in by your nape, holding you by the back of your neck as his mouth crashes down onto yours, hungrily and fervently. You respond with a soft sound that's swallowed by a familiar dance of fighting tongues and clashing teeth.

It's confusing, the way he ignores you and pretends you're non-existent, only to find you in the dark, and kiss you in this all-consuming manner that has your mind spiralling and thighs clenching with a pulsating desire.

Your fingers find the hem of his shirt, slipping beneath the fabric to find his smooth skin, leading up to his toned chest. Theo pulls apart, a heated glimpse there and gone in his eyes as both your chests rise and fall with a soft rhythm.

"Bend over," he instructs, demanding and direct. And you do, turning around immediately. Your hands find the edge of the table, back facing him and arc softly.

Behind you, you hear the unmistakable buckle of a belt undoing and a small, imperceptible exhale before your skirt is pulled up and you feel Theo's fingers pushing your dampened panties to the side.

Theo releases a low groan as the pad of his thumb gathers on your slick, circling at your clit. Once. Twice. Then he pushes it inside, drawing a soft sound from your lips. "You're soaked," he mumbles, fucking you with his thumb before replacing it with two fingers- one ring-clad, stretching you open slowly.

"Theo," you whine, his name wrapped in a quiet plea, fingers digging into the hard, wooden surface.

"What do you want want? Tell me."

You. For you to stay.

"Your cock. Fuck me," you breathe, "please."

Theos' fingers withdraw, and you see in the reflection of the tinted window, him using your wetness as lube, stroking himself briefly. You watch him as he positions his tip-bulbous and ready- rubbing from your clit to your entrance, a firm hand gripping down on your hip.

Theo thrusts forward in one sharp movement, sheathing himself completely, and you feel yourself splitting open on his girth, stretched beyond relief. A loud, wanton sound tears from your lips as you hear him hissing softly at the same time, "Fuck." His jaw tightens, "Fuck, you're so tight."

He spares you a few seconds to accommodate his size, despite it being the umpteenth time of you taking him. Slowly, the sting subsides and morphs into a satisfying pleasure as Theo pulls out before feeding himself into you once more, this time, inch by inch.

His thumb finds your clit again, pressing down firmly and moving in a circular motion as his hips begin to move, thrusting into you at a steady pace at first, then picking up into a faster, rougher rhythm that has your lower stomach rapidly tightening with a well-acquainted sensation.

You squeeze around him inadvertently, and hear the grunt that he slips. You can't help it, squeezing around him twice more, just to hear the sound.

Theo responds by gathering your hair in his hand, wrapping it around his palm and tugging. "You know what you're doing," he snarls, delivering longer, deeper thrusts that slant so perfectly, grazing that spot within you that has your brows knitting with focus, and vision hazing.

"Squeezing around me so nicely," Theo murmurs so lowly you nearly miss it, "you feel perfect."

Perfect. The last word makes your heart flutter involuntarily.

"Theo," you whimper, feeling the knot in your stomach building more intensely with each time he slams into you. Or perhaps you say it for the sake of calling out his name.

Your hand reaches back mindlessly, not knowing what you're reaching for, but for a brief second, he responds with a brush of his fingers before gripping onto your wrist, holding it behind your back. Theo's hold around your hair releases and the tussled strands frame your face.

"Theo... I'm going to-" An overwhelming pressure washes over you as your thighs tremble, back arching into him, as you come undone around his cock with a shuddered breath.

Theo doesn't relent, albeit he groans at the feeling of you constricting around him once more. Instead, he continues to fuck into you. Harder. Rougher. Deeper. Faster.

The hold he has on your hip grows bruising and you feel the gradual shift of his thrusts, becoming less rhythmic, more erratic. Theo lets go of your wrist, hand finding your hair again. This time, when he pulls at it, the force is enough to draw a gasp from your throat as he brings your head close enough that you feel the warmth of his breath brush the shell of your ear.

You can feel the sensation again. But you also feel the unmistakable, dull throb of his cock inside you. It seems he feels it too as Theo murmurs, "Come again. Come for me." And you both unravel, falling apart together.

Theo fucks you through your orgasm, and that makes it all the more fervid. His face buries into the crook of your neck, and for a few still seconds, the room is so hushed you can hear the rush of blood in your ears, the pounding of your heart against your chest. Heavy. Strained.

Then he pulls out, head lifting from your shoulder, and the absence leaves you feeling achingly blank despite the trickle of his warm, sticky residue spilling out from your swollen pussy, dribbling down your inner thigh.

You don't dare look for him in the window's reflection this time, afraid of what you'll see. Instead, you hear it as you struggle to catch your breath- the methodical sound of him pulling his pants back up, fastening his belt as though it's just another step in his daily routine. Perhaps it has become one.

Silence stretches between you. For a beat, then several more. Footsteps retreat as you remain bare and spent, quivering faintly in the newfound breeze, your legs still unsteady from his rough touch.

A pause.

The door clicks shut with a quiet finality that finally urges you to turn around. But when you do, glancing over your shoulder, you find he's gone again, leaving behind only the faint trace of his cologne.

You know better than to expect more. You know better than to indulge the fantasy that one night- just once- he'll stay, or that he'll say something to you afterwards. That he'll treat you more than just a warm body.

The burning sting of his cold departure and apparent indifference settles deep into your bones, lingering long after you return to the dormitories and crawl into bed.

Hours pass before exhaustion finally drags you into an uneasy slumber. Even then, your mind remains consumed by the ache he left behind- so consumed that your eyes never once drift to the thinly folded note resting atop your nightstand. The one that hadn't been there before you left.

You're more than what you think you are

- T.N

A/N: Two posts in a day, I'm impressed with myself. All likes, comments, reblogs appreciated and keeps me motivated!

[countdracc]

Thinking about in love! Theo who...

✦ Who would endlessly stare at you in class, his hand rubbing your lower thigh. He would multitask, of course, writing neat notes about the class's contents, just in case you got too distracted. And, if he couldn't sit next to you, he'd pass you little notes that never failed to make you smile.

✦ Who would talk about you to his friends almost to the point of exhaustion. He was obsessed, truly. He couldn't shut up about you, and Mattheo had never heard Theo open his mouth so much.

✦ Who would always save a seat for you right next to him in the Great Hall, and, if you were going to be late, he would grab extras of your favorite foods so you wouldn't go without.

✦ Who was quiet in spoken word, but loud with his actions. He was always bringing you gifts, sometimes they were big and ostentatious, other times they were small things he saw in passing in Hogsmeade—no matter what, each one was meaningful.

✦ Who would take you on weekly dates, always making sure he was your outlet for your stress and worries. He left nothing unsaid, making sure you knew he was going to be there and that he loved you more than words could say.

✦ Who would watch you get ready for class, for parties, for date nights with rapt fascination, not just to admire your beauty but to make sure he knew what products you were running low on so he could replace them before they ran out.

✦ Who never really knew how to handle all of the public words of affection you would give him, so he would take them with shy smiles and pink cheeks he would try to hide.

✦ Who would surprise you at your house over the summer after realizing letters wouldn't suffice for two long months. He would show up at your door, a rare, wide smile on his face as he took in your shocked expression. He'd pull you into a tight hug, kissing you silly.

✦ Who would take you back to his villa in Italy, showing you off to his neighbors, who always asked about the girl he talked about so frequently.

just something to feed y'all

@bingbongbooom @aroseconstellation

[countdracc]

Masterlist⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢

have fun! ⁀➴ asterisks (**) mean smut/18+

⤷ ゛Theodore Nott ˎˊ˗ one shots — ᨳଓ It's hot (literally and figuratively) — ᨳଓ Picasso

drabbles — ᨳଓ in love! Theo

series — ᨳଓ Obliviousness is not bliss — ᨳଓ How'd you guys meet again?

⤷ ゛Mattheo Riddle ˎˊ˗ one shots — ᨳଓ Hear me out — ᨳଓ Immovable object — ᨳଓ Mattheo is a sucker in love — ᨳଓ Mmhmm, yum! ** — ᨳଓ Birthdays suck (?)

drabbles — ᨳଓ nervous! mattheo

series — ᨳଓ coming soon... (⸝⸝> ᴗ•⸝⸝)

last updated 06/27/26

[countdracc]

how theo x oblivious! reader met is coming up soon heh

[theficdiary]

Theodore Nott NSFW Content

♡ 𝑩𝒚: @lov3notts

End Zone — theo gets jealous during his game when he sees Cedric flirting with you. also based on

"you what?" — accidentally drinking a lust potion, you asked your best friend Theo for help.

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

── ♡ ──

♡ 𝑩𝒚: @torturedpoetism

busy woman — As a dedicated Ravenclaw, you have no time for distractions, not even the charming Theodore Nott… unless.

MY MAN ON WILLPOWER — He used to be literally obsessed with me, I’m suddenly the least sought after girl in the land!!!

𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐬 — At a masquerade ball back at his home estate, Theo has you completely as his mercy for the evening.

── ♡ ──

♡ 𝑩𝒚: @sadnymi

Guilty as sin — Theo x f!reader where she is a huuuuuge flirt. Flirts with the whole slytherin gang, the golden trio, literally everyone EXCEPT Theo and it doesn’t bother him until his friends start teasing him about it and then it drives him CRAZY. So he tracks her down and she’s all blushy like “idk how to flirt with someone I actually like??”

Lonesome — When your childhood bestfriend decided to leave you without any explanation.

── ♡ ──

♡ 𝑩𝒚: @theosbae

theo + morning wood

theo loves when u scratch his back

── ♡ ──

♡ 𝑩𝒚: @cindyss

you wouldn't have bounced on his cock like this

my shorts don't have laces — Hermoine is aware of y/n’s feelings toward theo, therefore when she gets the chance, hermoine makes it her job to get them close to eachother

who did this to you — when y/n comes into class crying, Theo doesn’t let it slide and punishes who did it. Y/n then takes him back to her dorm to clean up and as they’re in a perfect position, he takes the chance to make a move.

── ♡ ──

♡ 𝑩𝒚: @fawnfate

now what happens when you find a frustrated theodore nott on the quidditch pitch…?

THOSE EYES

ex!bf!theo x fawn!reader — what happens if you see your ex-boyfriend, theodore nott, at a halloween party?

chaser!theodore nott x fawn!reader — what happens when theodore nott encounters a sweet girl in the forbidden forest?

── ♡ ──

♡ 𝑩𝒚: @kittyminion

WASH AWAY THE STRESS — in which you and theodore have sex in the shower.

SIX HUNDRED DOLLARS OR LOVE part two — you were just a bet—at first. but theodore developed feelings for you, but is that enough to fill the hole in your heart when you find out the truth?

QUERENCIA — theodore nott, your twin brothers best friend, has always been one of your closest friend, and throughout the years, you didn't realize how much he adored you

── ♡ ──

♡ 𝑩𝒚: @dearmisshoney

caught red-handed (and rock hard) — when theo sneaks into your room looking for a charger, he finds something way more interesting — your provocative polaroids. caught in the act, he might as well make the best of it. one thing leads to another, and suddenly, you're both tangled in a mess of teasing, dirty words, and desperate grinding. if you thought he was only good at pissing you off, well… think again.

pitch a (his) tent — when your brother mattheo brings his new girlfriend on the annual boys-only camping trip, you're invited along to balance out the dynamic. everything’s fine… until your old tent gives out, forcing you to share one with the only person staying alone — theo nott. insufferable yet maddeningly hot theo nott. let’s just say… they should be making warning signs of him too, not just of bears.

── ♡ ──

♡ 𝑩𝒚: @rafesslxt

What are friends for? — y/n and theo are best friends. she need‘s a little help to make a boy jealous, who ignores her. so what are friend for if not for helping each other?

JUST THE TIP — you and your bsf!theo try something new for the first time

── ♡ ──

♡ 𝑩𝒚: @slytherinsmuse

Yours, Always — Amidst the quiet chaos of a summer at the Malfoy Manor, Theo and his ex navigate the tension of unresolved feelings .

Just Friends — Two survivors, one fateful summer, and a silence heavy with everything left unspoken.

── ♡ ──

♡ 𝑩𝒚: @nottendo

jersey

king of consent

── ♡ ──

♡ 𝑩𝒚: @velarisvixxen

Showering in Cum — Just some steamy shower fun between friends with benefits

Thin Ice — Your friends drag you to a hockey game, but halfway through you lock eyes with Theo. You can’t help but feel a strong pull toward him. Deciding to shoot your shot with the player.

── ♡ ──

♡ mini skirt (by: @patrophthia ) — blaise zabini’s idea of how to play matchmaker might be different from the traditional way of doing it but at least you ended up getting dicked down, so you guess his method works too.

♡ Worst behaviour (By: @lenacosse ) — your bf Theo is being flirty with other girls, so you give him payback. He doesn’t like that and starts a fight, which somehow leads to him being a submissive mess, teehee.

♡ brokenhearted (By: @theosbaby) — theo breaks up with his girlfriend and you comfort him, but things get a little bit heated in the process.

♡ THEO DEFINITELY REWATCHES THAT SEXTAPE YOU MADE AFTER YOU BROKE UP (By: @sh8desofcool)

♡ never heard of a hug? (By: @slytherinboysvip) — y/n and theo were best friends for years, but one had a secret. y/n got a boyfriend, too bad theo hated him.

♡ …I’M IN LOVE WITH A CRIMINAL. (By: @rarebambi)

♡ Hypocrite (By: @evergone) — The reader is embarrassed by the hickies Theo left on her, but she's not one to speak.

♡ Best friends, huh? (By: @simp-for-love) — You and Theo Nott have always been the kind of best friends who blur boundaries late-night talks, too-long touches, and the comfort of always ending up in each other's space. When a casual curiosity about "weird searches" spirals into watching porn together, the teasing turns into something you both can't ignore anymore.

♡ Pink and Red photoshoot (By: @voidangxlss) — You got a new lingerie set and wanted your boyfriend to take some pictures of you, though thats not the only thing that happens.

♡ lollipop rewards (By: @jayybugg) — Theo is too observant for his own good.

♡ pussy kisses (By: @nottsluvv) — usually your brother's best friend isn't soft with you ever, but it's been ages since he's gotten the chance to fuck you properly and he's been dying to touch you. when your brother finally leaves, theo springs on the chance to get you alone... and help you unwind after a long and stressful day.

♡ 𝐖𝐎𝐎𝐃 (By: @dolcevizio) — the rumours about theodore nott’s size have been circulating around hogwarts like a wild current. and now that you’ve become his girlfriend, you can have your very own confirmation.

♡ That Red Dress (By: @xoxoluvnicole) — theodore requests you to join him at the annual winter ball for fraternities. as always, theo manages to make you feel basically invisible next to him. on your way to get some air you run into an old (male) friend. jealousy ensues and theo drags you into a random bathroom just to show you how good he makes you feel.

♡ sundress (By: @theosbaby) — you wear a new sundress to your date with theo, knowing that he loves them on you, and he cannot resist the temptation.

[ldrfanatic]

Helloooo Oml I love your fics sm and the way your brain works !!!!!! Congatulations on the milestone. You deserve all the love and support!

For groceries, can I have some eggs pls? From Slytherin boys

Short desc: Average height(for an asian) with messy black hair (call me harry potter bc I can never manage to make it behave despite it being straight?? Wtff??). Im also very chalant and nonchalant at the same time. Its an art form.

Bit of a nerd. Not a top student but I have my geeky hobbies I suppose. Bro Ive always wanted to know wth they studied in arthimancy. House = gryffindor (slytherin fics with gryffindor are a rare breed). I have a sweet tooth its genuinely a problem. I would love collecting chocco frog cards (but I lost all my pokemon cards so what would I know). Im also really absent minded. Like really. I have lost 3 different phones. Not even stolen, just forgot abt them midway. I like reading, mainly fanfics (obvi), science stuff and philosophy (yet nothing sticks). I do love math (translates to arthimancy ig?) And drawing (mostly anime girls and miku. I could theoretically draw guys but theyd all end up looking like femboys so idk)

I am a very curious person and have been brought up to be career focused so romance is like a fairytale (a good thing honestly.) And I do enjoy spending time with myself and my friends. But honestly I am pretty idgaf abt people and drama in general (situationships dont exist imma be fr and I am on the spectrum so maybe thats why lmao)

I would hate history of magic with a passion (maybe not the subject,but the professor. Its nothing personal). Id be barely scrapping Ds in that subject.

If you can decipher any of this, Ill hand you your bachelors in psych bro youve earned it.

Oh and Im a girl. Congrats on 1400 !! This event is such a cool idea and I hope your pillow stays ice cold on all surfaces.

Thank you thank you!

I ship you with theodore!! although I did strongly consider mattheo

(hear me out here :))

I think you and theo would've been formally introduced during a potions assignment wherein slughorn played into his usual antics of pairing up people from different houses to encourage "inter-house mingling".

theo is very very similar with his school habits (intelligent but doesn't overdo it) and really, really shy so I think the first time that you heard him really do an in-depth explanation on the purpose of stirring clockwise exactly three times would be a little bit of a shock. that being said, theo also isn't really one for drama so when you guys end up in the same social situation after becoming close friends, you both tend to linger in the shadows together and have debates on who's collected more chocolate frog cards.

he swears up and down that it's him but everytime he's in hogsmeade, he picks up a couple frogs and gives most of them to you.

I think that theo would be the kind of boyfriend that's really perceptive and I believe that his primary love language would be acts of service which both work really well in your guys' dynamic. he reminds you of any big assignment deadlines and he sets multiple alarms for you in the morning just in case you want to snooze a little.

as italian!theo he has a really deep appreciation for art so sometimes he's completely content to just be with you while you draw or if you don't like to be watched, he'll just read a book and wait for you to finish so you can show it off to him.

as far as history of magic goes, he also hates it and professor binns is, as he puts it, "excruciatingly boring". because of this, he tries to convince you to skip literally every class period. when you agree, you both find something to do that doesn't draw unwarranted attention (i.e. sneaking into the slytherin common room and making smores over the fireplace). when you don't agree to skip, he'll sit dutifully next to you and make random scribbles and sketches onto spare parchment.

[trowneyy]

𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓

• theodore nott

{summary} After Slughorn pairs you with Theodore Nott for a Potions project, you accidentally find letters he never meant to send, each one about you.

{content} no smut, unspoken feelings, no-war universe, invasion of privacy

It starts because of Slughorn.

more specispecifically, because Horace Slughorn decides that “collaboration builds character” and pairs you - a Hufflepuff - with Theodore Nott.

you don’t question it out loud, but you do notice the way a few slytherins glance over when your names are called together. nott doesn’t react at all. he just nods once, like it’s already been decided and there’s no point arguing.

“amortentia variation,” Slughorn says, beaming. “subtle alterations, personal influence—very delicate work, you’ll need to trust each other.”

you almost laugh at that.

nott doesn’t.

๑

he doesn’t talk much during the first half of the lesson. he works efficiently, measures precisely, and corrects your hand placement once—briefly, without comment—before stepping back again like even that was more interaction than necessary.

when the bell rings, you’re still copying down notes when he speaks.

“i’ll do the base draft,” he says, already packing his things. “you can refine it.”

you look up. “or we could just… work on it together?”

a pause. not long. just enough to feel like he’s considering whether that’s worth the effort.

“the library,” he says finally. “tomorrow.”

then, like it’s an afterthought, he slides his textbook toward you. advanced potion-making, edges worn, pages marked.

“you’ll need it,” he adds. “the annotations are more useful than the printed instructions.”

you hesitate. “are you sure?”

“i’ve already memorized what I need.”

there’s no arrogance in it. just fact.

you take the book. “right. thanks.”

he nods once, and that’s the end of it.

๑

you don’t think about him again.

not properly.

not until later that evening, when you’re sitting in the hufflepuff common room with the book open across your lap, skimming through his notes—neat, precise, written in the margins like he couldn’t help improving what was already there.

it’s almost impressive.

you’re halfway through a paragraph when something slips loose from between the pages and falls against your wrist.

a folded piece of parchment.

you frown, picking it up. it’s thicker than a normal note, creased carefully.

your name is written on the outside.

that’s what makes you pause.

there’s no reason your name should be there. not in his handwriting.

you turn it over once in your fingers, like that might change something.

it doesn’t.

you open it.

you answer questions before anyone else has time to think. it’s inefficient.

you blink.

not because you’re wrong. because you don’t hesitate.

your grip tightens slightly on the page.

there’s no signature, but there doesn’t need to be. the handwriting is unmistakable—controlled, deliberate, almost too precise.

nott.

you should stop there. you don’t.

the next one is tucked further into the book.

you sit near the windows in herbology even when it’s colder. i don’t understand why.

a pause in the writing, like he’d stopped.

you said you like the light.

another line, sharper.

that’s not a sufficient reason.

and then, smaller—

iIt is to you.

something about that one lingers.

you reach for another.

Diggory spoke to you after class today.

the ink presses harder into the parchment.

you laughed. It was louder than usual.

a space. then—

it shouldn’t matter.

another line, written over slightly, like the first version wasn’t enough.

It doesn’t.

and then, almost cramped at the edge—

It does.

you don’t realize how many there are until they’re spread in front of you.

some are short. observational. detached in a way that feels forced.

others-

others aren’t.

one, written more messily than the rest:

I don’t like you.

a line break.

I don’t.

the ink digs into the page.

This is inconvenient.

and then, after a long gap—

You are inconvenient.

you stare at that one longer than you mean to.

๑

the next day, you notice him.

not intentionally. not at first.

but now that you’ve read them, it’s impossible not to see it—the way his gaze lifts when you speak, how it lingers just long enough to be deliberate before dropping again. the way he seems aware of where you are without ever turning fully toward you.

it’s controlled. Subtle.

but it’s there.

and now you know what it means.

๑

by the time you meet in the library the next evening, the letters are folded neatly in your bag.

you tell yourself you’re going to focus on the project.

you don’t.

theodore is already there when you arrive, books arranged in front of him, notes half-written. he glances up briefly as you sit across from him, then back down again like this is nothing more than obligation.

like you didn’t read every word he never meant you to see.

you try, for a few minutes, to pretend the same.

it doesn’t last.

your hand moves before you can overthink it, pulling the folded letters from your bag and placing them between you.

his reaction is immediate—not outwardly dramatic, but precise.

his pen stops.

not mid-word. exactly at the end of the line.

then he sets it down.

carefully.

“you took those,” he says.

not you read them.

not give them back.

just that.

“they fell out of your book,” you reply quietly. “i didn’t know they were there.”

“you do now.”

“yes.”

a pause settles in. he doesn’t reach for them.

that’s what feels strange.

“they’re about me,” you add.

“i know.”

his voice is even, but there’s something underneath it now—tight, restrained.

“you weren’t supposed to read them.”

“i figured that out.”

his gaze lifts to yours then, sharp and direct in a way it hasn’t been before. “then why didn’t you stop?”

the question lands harder than you expect.

you hesitate. “because my name was on them.”

that’s the wrong answer.

you can tell by the way his jaw tightens slightly, the only visible sign that something’s slipped.

“that doesn’t make them yours,” he says.

“i didn’t say it did.”

silence.

you study him for a moment, then push a little further. “you wrote that you don’t like me.”

“i don’t.”

too quick.

too clean.

you shake your head slightly. “that’s not what it sounds like.”

“they weren’t written to sound like anything.”

“they contradict each other.”

“that’s not your concern.”

“it is if they’re about me.”

that lands.

he stills—not completely, but enough that you notice.

“you’ve decided you understand something,” he says, quieter now.

“i think you’re trying very hard not to say something.”

his gaze sharpens. “and what would that be?”

you don’t answer immediately.

because now that you’re here—now that you’ve pushed this far—it feels different. he’s not angry, not really.

he’s… exposed.

and he hates it.

“you notice everything,” you say instead. “where I sit. who I talk to. when I’m not there.”

“that doesn’t mean anything.”

“it does if you keep writing it down.”

his fingers press lightly against the table, controlled but tense. “writing something doesn’t make it important.”

“no,” you say softly. “but keeping it does.”

that’s the moment it shifts.

not loudly. not dramatically.

but something in him gives—just slightly.

his gaze drops, not to the letters this time, but to the space just beside them, like looking directly at them would be worse.

“they weren’t meant to be kept,” he says.

“but you did.”

a pause.

then, quieter—more honest than anything he’s said so far—

“i didn’t throw them away.”

it’s not a confession.

not really.

but it’s close enough.

you feel your chest tighten slightly. “why?”

he doesn’t answer right away.

when he does, his voice is lower.

“because it’s easier to write it,” he says, “than to have to see it happen in real time.”

you frown slightly. “see what happen?”

his gaze lifts to yours again, and this time there’s no distance in it. no careful detachment.

just something unguarded. brief, but real.

“that it doesn’t matter,” he says.

your breath catches.

“that you talk to other people,” he continues, more evenly now, like he’s already trying to pull it back under control. “that it’s irrelevant.”

“and it isn’t?”

a pause.

“no.”

the word is quiet. certain.

you don’t look away. “then why pretend it is?”

“because it should be.”

there it is.

not anger.

not denial.

just… truth, said like it’s a problem he hasn’t found a solution to.

you glance down at the letters, then back at him. “you could’ve just told me.”

“no,” he says again, but softer this time.

“why not?”

his expression shifts slightly—not defensive, not cold.

just tired.

“because then you’d know,” he says.

“i do know.”

“not like this.”

a beat.

“not because you chose to.”

that lands heavier than anything else.

you hadn’t thought of it like that.

you swallow, then gently push the letters a little closer to him. “do you want them back?”

he looks at them for a long moment.

then shakes his head once.

“no.”

you blink. “no?”

“you’ve already read them,” he says. “there’s no point pretending otherwise.”

You hesitate. “do what happens now?”

another pause.

he picks up his pen again, but doesn’t start writing.

“now,” he says, voice steady again, control slipping back into place, “we finish the assignment.”

that almost makes you laugh.

“right,” you murmur.

but neither of you moves.

not immediately.

and when you finally do start working, something has shifted—quietly, subtly, but undeniably.

because now, when you glance up and catch him looking at you—

he doesn’t look away quite as quickly.