Iloveinej

𝐂𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤

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Theodore Nott x reader

Catagory: Angst, fluff

Warnings: Mentions of wounds and blood. Booth of them are complete dumbasses. Reader is a tiny bit sensitive, but rightfully so.

Summary: Theodore is lonelier than ever, especially after receiving the dark mark. So he tries to find peace in new things. Like Choirs.

Words: 7.2 k

OBS! I gave reader a last name. Oak, but her first name is still your own but just so everyone knows

A/N: Uh, it's long. I don't know if I love it or hate it, but I'm also really tired so I don't have the energy to think. But also, what writers like what they write? So here you go.

(I'm not religious, but god seriously has his favorites)

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His room couldn't contain the warmth that it used to hold during the summer. The fire from his fireplace couldn't keep up with the autumn's chill breezes and cold rains. The heat easily simmered out through the cracks of the old windows, leaving Theodore with stale fingers and cold toes.

On a normal day, he might've complained. When he was younger, he used to despise the cold, always missing the summer rays during the quiet winter. But now? He wasn't sure that he disliked it anymore. The chill air became the only thing that understood the echoing emptiness in his chest.

"I'm joining the Choir." He said absentmindedly. A quick decision he took during the dark hours layered itself with pity and sadness.

"That's rash. I thought you hated Choirs." Blaise mumbled from his seat on the carpeted floor.

Theodore shifted in his soft duvets." I don't hate them, I just don't understand the point of it."

Blaze's face scrunched in confusion and he looked away from his book to watch the other young man mindlessly play with the corners of his sheets." Then why are you joining one?"

Theodore only sighed. He didn't intend to answer Blaise. He wouldn't understand. Blaise had yet to receive the itching curse on his wrist and therefore hadn't been tied to bad things for the rest of his life. Or perhaps, Theodore had become selfish during the quiet days of his suffering.

"Well, I don't care if join or not, but maybe keep it quiet from Draco... and the others." Theodore hummed absentmindedly. If Malfoy would ever find out about Theodore joining something so 'muggly' as a choir, he would stuff Theo in a box and send him straight to the doorstep of Voldermort.

"I know."

Blaize looked at Theodore for any reaction but turned his attention to the book in his lap when Theo only continued to stare at the ceiling.

"Have you packed? We're leaving in two days." He easily rerouted the conversation.

--

The smell of food made Theodore sick to his stomach. Before he left, he hoped that his appetite would return when the warm food that the elves of Hogwarts made entered his nostrils, but his hopes were all in despair.

Classes had been going on for six days and focusing had already been proven to be a task.

Professor Flitwick stopped him in the corridor the earlier day to speak to him about the request for joining his 'Frog choir', as it was called. Professor Flitwick had thought that it was a mere prank. So Theodore stood in the corridor for 10 minutes explaining to the professor that he didn't pull a prank on him.

And now, he sat by the lunch table, idly waiting for the clock to tick to its designated hour. The choir lesson. He had been asked by Blaise at the beginning of the lunch if he were alright, and he had lied with a clump of nerves stuck in his throat.

He wished to believe his nerves only existed to tease him. But his nerves seemed to be right, for it seemed that wherever he went, eyes followed him. Whether it was Draco, who always appeared to be in the same room as Theodore. Or Professor Snape, that read over his shoulder whenever they had positions class.

Theodore shook his head, a small pain making its way into his head. He stood up, and curious glances was thrown his way.

"Why haven't you eaten? You always eat?" Lorenzo asked with his arms tied behind his head. Only for a second, Theodore stiffen.

"Must've eaten something bad yesterday." He barely mumbled before quietly gliding out of the grand Hall.

--

Her eyes shot up from her note page when the door slammed open. The murmur carried throughout the dark and dusty classroom came to halt, and (Name) eyed Theodore Nott suspiciously when he strode into the room. Professor Flitwick tapped his wand against the podium he stood by, effectively gaining everyone's attention again.

"Oh!" Professor Flitwick exclaimed when he saw the tall boy standing by the entrance. "I seem to have forgotten to inform you. This term, Mr. Nott here will join us."

She didn't feel good about a new person joining the choir. Especially not him. The boys from Slytherin had never been nice, and in her luck, she hadn't been the object of their harassment. Which is probably something that she should thank Harry Potter for. But didn't mean that she was entirely safe from their harassment.

If he decided she were to be his next target, it made sense. Not many people knew about her. The students didn't blink an eye when she walked by, and the teachers barely knew her name.

She never believed herself to be quiet or shy. But the lack of attention she received left her believing that she needed to be more interesting to speak to for them to enjoy her company. They thought she didn't want to go with them, so they excluded her from their plans.

It made her think, maybe being interesting didn't belong in her nature.

"Have you ever been in a choir before Mr. Nott?" The professor asked.

He timidly shook his head, and briefly wondered where his old, confident self went. "No Professor."

Professor Flitwick gave him a nod before taking a glance over his small class.

"Well then, grab your notes from the table, and then Miss Oak will help you."

Theodore looked around after this 'Miss Oak', and he believed the young lady looking at Professor Flitwick with eyes popping out of her skull would be the girl that the Professor inquired about.

The old paper felt scratchy in his hand when he grabbed the note-filled sheets, and his body heavily trudged to stand by Miss Oak. She didn't say anything, nor did she look at him when he placed himself beside her.

She tried to not pay attention to the boy on her side, but it became a problem since he radiated off his body heat by how close he stood. Perhaps, she should have offered him her help with the notes. But after a while, it seemed he figured it out and she relaxed at the thought of not needing to interact with him.

The lesson came to an end and she wasted no time packing her things so she could catch the Professor before he turned to the next class to teach.

The rest of the students filed out quickly, and to her luck, the professor didn't.

"Professor Flitwick?" She asked.

He turned around and smiled. "Yes dear, what can I help you with?" He answered, before once again turning back to collect the remaining papers.

"I was wondering if you maybe could have someone else help Mr. Nott with his notes." She stood tall and spoke calmly when the professor turned his full attention to the girl. But inside her, a turmoil of emotion rolled around, making her dizzy and anxious.

"Why is that?" She swallowed when his calculated gaze met hers and tried her best not to tear eye contact.

"Well, because I'm afraid that helping him might disturb the focus on my studies." A small humorous scoff sounded through the room, and Professor Flitwick continued to track down the classroom with (name) hot on his tail.

"I must say that I believe that you are wrong." He started, and (name)'s eyebrows scurried together." I think that you need to socialize yourself, to meet new people. Mr. Nott is a kind young man, who I think will get along great with you."

A sigh of descent escaped her, and she trudged out of the classroom in defeat, beginning the lonely track toward her next class. Which unfortunately for her would be divination.

--

Theodore is an utterly and completely helpless man. He'd met the girl once, one smell, one touch, and he dared never stop thinking about her. The realization had almost knocked him off his chair, for wherever he went, his brain lost control over his eyes and they began to wander, searching after the girl.

For the next Choir class, he made sure to be late again, only so that he could guarantee a second of attention from her. Flitwick had come to warn him about bad habits, but why care? Theodore didn't know. For her eyes flickered to his, and only for a second, the mark on his arm didn't burn his skin.

He slowly walked towards his self-chosen place by her side and didn't let his eyes leave her once. She radiated with caution and apprehension, but Theodore didn't incline to stop staring. At least not until she showed signs of being even mildly uncomfortable.

Her eyes scanned the notes of the Christmas Carol more than she could count as an attempt to not give in to his staring. Because even though she felt tempted to stare at his angel-like face, a fear still presented itself in the back of her mind.

She winced as the floorboards creaked at her nervous shuffle, and once again, felt herself becoming the attention of Theodore's eyes. He opened his mouth, and she made herself ready for anything that could leave his mouth.

"Oh, buggers. I seemed to have forgotten my papers." (Name) watched carefully when the professor rummages through his bag, hoping that his papers are there so he doesn't leave the classroom, risking that someone with dark hair and brown eyes will start a conversation with her.

But to her downfall, Professor Flitwick quickly announced that he would be back soon, and no one had the time to blink before he walked away.

She swallowed the anxious lump in her throat and took a breath through her nose.

"Nervous?" He asked, fully aware that she had been shuffling around and taking unnecessarily deep breaths ever since he situated himself on her side.

"No." She answered, too fast for her liking, before quickly focusing on her paper again.

Theodore wanted to sigh in disappointment when she wasn't up for a conversation, and at the same time felt a stream of pettiness run through his fingertips.

He clenched his pale fist in frustration and looked away. A gust of air passed his lips in a desperate attempt to not let his hopes sink. To be so obsessed with a person in such a so short time felt strange. So strange he started to suspect that a love potion had been involved. But the way she shut herself away from him, he supposed that it would be strange for her to pour a love potion into his drink.

Professor Flitwick's footsteps were loud before he came in sight, and Theodore cursed his chance when it faded into nothing.

But on the other hand, it could turn out to be for the best. He knew that the capability of making a fool out of himself lingered.

Professor seemed to have noticed the shift of emotions on Theodore's face.

"Are you alright, Mr. Nott, you seem to be a bit pale over there?" He wanted to laugh at the coincidence.

"I'm alright, Professor." He answered politely, gently clearing his throat as he tried to brush off the awkwardness of the professor's notice.

But oh to be held, he took notice of a small, inconvenient, soft laugh. His head snapped towards her when he heard who it came from, and she quickly covered it up with a cough and a small apology.

He scoffed quietly, and she pursed her lips as he looked away.

"Everyone ready?" Professor Flitwick asked, and a chorus of positive answers echoed in the hall. And with four flicks of his wand, the choir let their voices out. At first, Theodore believed that no one in this room had sung in a choir. The different voices jumbled together, but it seemed that after just a countable second, the different voices blended into an angel melody.

He could hear her voice perfectly, and he never wanted to have no one else singing in his ear, quite literally. And he let himself bask in the warmth of her tone until a crack reaches the surface. He cringe at the miss of a note in (Name)'s voice, and she did the same.

Theodore struggled to cover up the small chuckles that escaped his mouth, and he blushed in shame to be laughing at her. She didn't seem to mind or hear him. Her face bore a confused scowl, making a wrinkle appear between her eyebrows. Suddenly he felt himself wanting to reach out, to smooth the area out with his thumb. But it would've been ridiculous if he did, possibly ruining all his chances with her in the world.

The harmonious tune took an end, and a murmur broke out, asking each other for the right notes and laughing at each other's wrongs. Theodore listened in curiosity as she hummed the same part over and over again, still getting the same note wrong even though she tries.

"It's an f-sharp, not f." He instructed, and she paused. Patiently waiting for her answer, Theodore hummed the tune for her, showing the correct way. Before the tune ended, he looked towards her to make sure that she was listening, and met her eyes. Theodore felt his heart drum against his sensitive ribs when she watched him with idle eyes.

When it once again took to an end, Theodore masked his madness with raised eyebrows and a look in his eyes, that asked her if she understood.

The eye contact broke as she looked away.

"I knew that, I'd just forgotten." She explained, and the left corner of his mouth rose.

"Sure you did." Sarcasm dripped from his voice, and he feared he'd taken it too far, for he didn't know her limits, how much she would be able to take nor how sensitive she might be.

But his fear easily melted away when he saw the slightest twitch of her lips.

--

For the first time in a long time, she left the classroom with a content look on her face. The conversation that appeared, is something that she had missed happening. Like an old conversation with the rain.

And she almost wished that her next Choir lesson would be today so that she had someone to talk to again. But it was albeit a bit intimidating. She is afraid that if she spoke too much, or shares too many feelings, he would get bored of talking with her. And she wouldn't have a potential friend anymore.

She sighed at her overcalculating thoughts and decided that she would keep basking in his attention as long as it would last.

Until her Transfiguration class with professor McGonagall the next day. Usually, she was fully aware of where everyone was so she could sit alone and not risk getting a desk friend. As said, except for today. Maybe it was to blame on the bad night's sleep, but she hadn't given a second thought about where she sat down.

And once again, Theodore stormed into the class, ten minutes late. He didn't apologize for being late, instead, he took the closest empty seat he could find and sat down.

(Name) could feel the looks from the rest of the Slytherins when Theodore sat beside her and she straightened her spine and directed her eyes forwards again, not wanting to pay attention to them.

"Fashionably late, as usual, Mr. Nott?" McGonagall questioned, amusement in her tone, but stone-set face.

"Sorry, Professor." He mumbled, and McGonagall nodded, intending to start the lesson again.

Theodore could feel the burning gazes of his friends as he opened up his book. At first, he didn't intend to give the bloodsuckers their craved attention, because he knew what it would an about, and he was also well aware of who he was sitting next to.

But he could hear Blaise whispering his name, and he still didn't want to seem rude, so he turned in his chair, and was met by the eyes of his Slytherin classmates. Draco raised an eyebrow at him, before nodding his head towards (Name).

Theodore knew exactly what he enclined and shrugged. His friends didn't need to know everything, and he didn't need to be around them every minute of the day.

A warm feeling, but strange occupied her chest when Theodore turned back, a half smile on his pink lips and relaxed eyes looking upon her.

And she wanted to beat the butterflies in her stomach with a stick.

During the lesson, there were not many words exchanged between them, and at first, it was a maladroit pressure on (Name)s chest to say something or to make him, anything of the sort. But she realized quite soon that she didn't need to speak, for it was both comforting and nice to have him sitting beside her, carefree of what was around him as he wrote on his parchments.

She hoped and prayed to merlin that it would stay like this and that it wasn't just a fortunate stroke of serendipity.

--

Something changed with him. She could both see and feel it, and never had she doubted her senses when she felt as if something was wrong.

In their choir lesson, he acted differently against his usual sarcastic but nice persona, which would help her if she was wrong, or speak to her about professor Flitwick's ridiculous beard.

But today he acted strange, only chuckling at her when she did wrong, and when helping her, he sounded up stuck.

He was almost being competitive.

And it was onerous, and burdensome to have such an enthralling person seeing you as a competition. Especially when she was aware that he was more sharp-minded, wittier, and more ambitious than she could ever wish to be.

So therefore she tried to ignore it, playing it off as if had a bed day instead so that she could protect her feelings.

But it only continued and got worse too.

She was slouching in a chair, wand in hand as she tried the same spell over and over again, but the pair of dice weren't even close to becoming chocolate pralines with passion fruit filling. Theodore had gotten it multiple times and embarrassment was beginning to crawl over her cheeks in the form of warmth.

She flicks her wand once more, and when she finally thinks that she has succeeded, she is disappointed to only see a small patch of melted chocolate. A deflected sigh left her lips, and her body slouched even more in her seat.

A chuckle rang out from the side of her, and she bit the inside of her cheek in anticipation of what he was going to say.

"It's going well I see." He remarked, and (Name) felt her ears getting hot from his sudden attention.

"No, obviously not." She mumbled.

"What am I doing wrong?" The question wasn't directed to anyone in particular, but Theodore answered it anyway.

"That, you have to figure out yourself Oak." He scoffed, moving out of his wooden seat and gently picking the pralines up to place them in his palm.

"Because, unlike others, I do have pralines instead of..." he looked quizzically, but in amusement at the chocolate mush on her table. "... that."

(Name)'s face scrunched as she listened to his almost berating words that were thrown, and was about to say something but he had already started walking up to McGonagall with his paper and sweets. She took a long, calculating glance at them, and then nodded, permitting him to leave the classroom.

And he did just so, collecting his books and taking a last glance at the frustrated witch before making his way.

It left (Name) in hassle. The way that Theodore's behavior changed so quickly, and so out of context. But perhaps she's the one to blame. The hope in her heart maybe made her think that he was the nicest out of them all, that he wanted to be her friend. Perhaps -one day- to be even more. She realized that it is her younger self talking through, the child that didn't wish for anything but true love.

She decided that it was a naive thought, and hastily closed her book before walking away from the class.

The next time it happened, it was during choir. (Name) did try her best to stay civil and rational, but how could she do that when Theodore was somehow effectively getting on her last nerves? And she was usually a calm, down-to-earth person.

"What do you mean I'm doing it wrong, I sing it exactly like everyone else." She argued exasperated as she glared at monstrous holes in the side of Theodore's head. She found it strange that he could get on her nerves so easily, even if his presence were able to make her knees weak.

"You're not singing it like like everyone else, sweety." The nickname threw her off immediately, and she felt ashamed as she spluttered out excuses and arguments against it, trying to act as repulsive as possible.

"Mr. Nott and Ms. Oak, interested in sharing your conversation with the class." Professor Flitwick interrupted, and both Theodore and (Name) realized that the room was almost completely quiet, and cringed in embarrassment.

"Sorry, Professor. But I just have a question." Theodore started, holding one of his fingers in the air as he threw a side glance towards the girl on his side, who was watching him with a curiously raised eyebrow.

"But could you just tell me how this part goes one more time?" He asked, with patronize dripping from his voice like sweet, sticky honey.

The sour face that Flitwick carried quickly morphed into a lighter one.

"Why of course." His older voice rang out the words perfectly, and (Name) shrank into herself as the realization hit her that she did indeed sing wrong. Shame crept up on her from behind, and it was humbling when it came to her that Theodore, who had only been participating for two weeks, already seemed to be more intelligent and cunning than her.

"I won." (Name) didn't look at him, didn't say anything back as a strange, unknown emotion buried itself in her mind. She couldn't decide if it was jealousy, or if she was being hurt by his actions. It didn't make sense for her as to why he would need to be so right, and to mortify her like that, just to illustrate a point. Or maybe she was just being sensitive.

But right now, she didn't believe that he ever wanted to be her friend. That this was just an act to maybe relieve himself of stress, to have someone that he could compete against, knowing that he would win. It could also have something to do with power, that he felt out of control and needed something that he could manipulate. It would make sense, she supposed. (But did it though. Why would he pick her of all people to mess with? She hadn't done anything to him.)

As every single afternoon after choir, she trudged towards her house, lining up for the common rooms, more specifically, the comfort and consoling of her bed.

When she entered, it was pleasing to find that it was only one person present in the dormitory, and she hopefully could rest peacefully during the entire evening and night, and for once wake up with a good night's sleep and possibly a better mood.

Though she would be missing dinner, sacrifices were made and if it would guarantee sleep, she felt confident in taking that risk.

And with the last thought that maybe, she would just have to ignore Theodore if he continued with his confusing advances. Even if it meant that he wouldn't become her friend. And she fell asleep. A deep, undisturbed, peaceful sleep.

The next morning, she felt as fresh as the morning dew on her favorite flower. Nothing could ruin her mood was the famous words, but she truly felt it today. The day began with Magic of the Dark Arts, which she sure wasn't the brightest when it came to that class. But after that, she would practice quidditch, and then she would be able to find a dark corner in the library and bury her nose in a book, possibly one about the magical creatures of the north. It sounded interesting enough. (And who would she be to say no to new information and facts?)

--

As usual, dark arts sucked all the energy out of her eyes and brain but were lucky enough when the energy returned after the intense quidditch practice. The shower she took softened her stiff and sore limbs, and the grime and dirt watched down the drain slowly as she massaged her body with her flower-scented soap bar. It was almost a luxurious feeling.

Her robes had also been washed, which ended up with her smelling like a spring field and newly washed linen. It was something that oddly enough boosted her confidence.

The corridors were fairly empty as she began her quite a long walk towards the library. It was nice, the only thing echoing in the corridors bring the whining wind that carried new crystalizing snowflakes to the ground.

She turned corner after corner, walking by the great hall and resuming towards the moving stairs. But as she turned a corner, she stopped. Not voluntarily, but her body seemed to have control over her mind.

Lit by the flames of the corridor, was Theodore, sitting on the dusty stone floor and leaning against the wall with one of his legs stretched out before him, and the other bent towards his stomach. He didn't see her, for his head rested against the knee of his bent leg, and one of his arms clutched the side of his stomach. Almost as if he felt pain. She stood awkwardly and silently, waiting for him to notice her.

It went against what she promised yesterday night, that she wouldn't interact with, nor acknowledge his actuality. But her promises seemed to become empty every time they circled the Brunett.

So she gently cleared her throat and that seemed to do it for Theodore's head snapped towards her, his face showing that he became startled. But that wasn't the only thing that his face showed.

(Name)'s brows gently furrowed as she scanned his face. His left eye was bruised, along with his sharp cheekbone, and blood continued to drip from his nose, messily running down his lips and over his jaw.

"My my, what do we have here?" The surprised face that he carried slowly turned into a teasing smirk, but she found it easy to look past his confidence to know that it was all a mask, a trick to not let her see him in a state of weakness.

"By Merlin's beard, who did this to you?" she knelt by him to get a closer look at his face.

Theodore hoped that it didn't show, but his face had begun to heat up as her big, concerned eyes stretched over his face.

His heart beat faster, and his own brown eyes got stuck on her face, more exactly on her lips. He didn't want to stare, he didn't want to make it obvious but he had no power over his brain at all.

"Malfoy and Crabe. Maybe Goyle too. Don't remember." He said, shaking his head as he smiled with tired eyes. It was a wonder that he was still sitting up, especially after the hard kick that Crabe had delivered to his stomach.

"Why would they beat you? I thought you were friends?" She questioned, staring intently at a particular wound by his eye that looked like it surely needed medical attention sooner or later.

"I wouldn't say friends, merely acquaintances." He chuckled lightly before he shifted and turned serious." And they were saying impolite things, about someone-someone that I-" He stopped himself and pursed his lips." someone that I guess I care for." He forced that part out as if he had trouble saying it out loud. It probably contributed to the vulnerability, and it had probably torn on his ego to get beaten.

And that's why (Name) didn't ask any more questions. She wasn't usually someone to care about someone's ego, but she didn't want to make him uncomfortable.

She pursed her lips and stretched her legs which created an obnoxious sound in her knees before she stretched her hand towards him.

"What?" He asked skeptically.

"If you want, I can help with your wounds and the swelling." Theodore still looked doubtful, so she sighed and lightly rolled her eyes at his mistrust. "Don't worry, my mother used to work as a doctor back in a muggle hospital and has taught me much, so you can trust me."

Theodore seemed to relax at that and slowly grabbed her hand with a steady grip. It was an odd feeling, to have his hand in hers. It felt different than she thought it would. Instead of the cold, rough skin that she expected, it became a surprise when a warm hand with soft skin latched onto hers instead.

With a strong arm, she pulled Theodore up to his feet and she could hear a small groan leave him as he used his power and might to get up.

His face twisted in pain for a second and (Name) stretched her arm forwards when he almost fell against the wall again. Bit Theodore seemed to collect his strength with a big breath before standing straight, wincing slightly as his probably bruised ribcage stretched.

He must've felt her nervous gaze because he looked down at her with a reassuring face and said "I'm alright."

They began to track down the corridors.

They choose to walk to Theodore's room instead of (Name)'s, since he had a single room all by himself, and also because the girls wouldn't be too fond of finding Theodore in the girl's dormitory. They slowly descended the marble stairs that led to the dungeons, both of them walking much slower than before because of the pain in Theodore's stomach.

"Are you sure that we shouldn't go to madame Pomfrey instead?" (Name) asked for the third time as she heard the heavy breathing that came from Theodore, but he once again shook his head in denial.

"I'm fine, promise." He tried to persuade her, but she didn't feel fooled.

"No, I don't believe that you're fine." She argued and stopped in the middle of the stairs in protest of his hardheadedness. And when he noticed that she wasn't by his side, he stopped too and leaned against the wooden stair railing

"Please." His face showed only pleading, and the foreign display of emotion made her desire to fall to her knees for him right then and there, to take him in her arms and baby him for the rest of his life. It scared her to know that the smallest display of weakness that Theodore showed could manipulate her into doing anything. But it would be inevitable to avoid him because of such a -what she thought was- unimportant cause.

"Alright, but at least let me help you walk." She requested almost timidly, afraid that he would protest. But to her delight he nodded, so she walked to him and took his arm over her shoulder before circling her own around his slim waist, and then with all her power, she took a part of his weight onto her shoulders before they began to move, slowly limping to the edge of the old stairs before they walked down the dark dungeon to the entrance of the Slytherin house.

When they stopped in front of the dark wooden door, (Name) turned to look at Theodore for him to understand that she couldn't say the password since she didn't know it.

His cheeks pinked as he realized and he cleared his throat. "Pureblood." She would be flattered by the fact that he dared to say it loud in front of her, apparently trusting her with the password, if it weren't for the fact that her face scrunched in dislike at the password. She didn't say anything about it.

Theodore seemed to gather strength and nearly pulled her with him as he tried to cross the common room as fast as he could, like his injuries suddenly didn't hurt anymore.

(Name) wanted to stop and gape at the Slytherin common room. The first thing that stood out was the large windows on the opposite side, which allowed a view into the depths of the dark lake that you couldn't get anywhere else. There were also small desks placed against the walls and two round tables on the stone floor. And in the middle two black leathered couches took place in front of a hefty fireplace in the wall. By the thought of walls, (Name) turned her eyes up, and there she saw the stone decorations that had been carved into fetching eye-catching glamors.

Theodore pulled harsher at her arm when she slowed down, and she grumbled as he stressed her towards a high-roof corridor, that had another big window by the end that was framed by long green curtains. She believed it to be strange since the corridor wasn't parted into girls or boys as it was in hers. And there were also arguably more than two doors on the walls.

She counted every door they walked past, and ended up with the number 16 when they stopped between the last pair of doors. The door they were facing had two familiar letters engraved on them. T.N, and had been filled in with silver which she believed fitted him well.

Her free hand grabbed the handle and twisted, opening the door into his dark room. Then she stumbled inside. Her body had become tired from carrying Theodore the length of the stairs and corridors, so she walked towards his made bed and gently sat him down before closing the door. And then rolled her shoulders to leverage the pain.

She tried to look around for some kind of lighter or anything that she could use to gain sight. But it turned out to not be needed when all the candles lit up by the flick of Theodore's hand. And also a small fireplace in the corner that cast a warm hue over the room.

"Medical kit is in the top drawer." Theodore's voice was pained, and it made her hurry to the place he pointed so she could get working on his wounds. It was scary to have him sitting there in pain, labored breathing and his expression tight as he attempted not to show his discomfort. A particularly loud groan made her turn around from the desk where the medical things lay.

Theodore was now leaning against the wall with his eyes closed and teeth clenched. And she wondered how he persuaded her into keeping him away from Madame Pomfrey. She also regretted offering her help to heal him in the first place, since the injuries now seemed to be beyond her expertise. His face showed nothing but discomfort and (Name) started to feel nervous. Her medical skills were good but by how Theodore looked at the moment, she seriously started to doubt her skills.

But she didn't say anything and took a cotton pad soaked in anti-bacterial and plasters to cover the wounds with.

When she stood by the edge of the bed she concluded that she would not be able to reach him when he leaned back as he did, and gently poked at his arm to gain his attention." I can't reach you, you need to sit up."

He hummed lowly, (Name) almost missing the sound before he slowly dragged himself to the edge of the bed, his legs dangling off the side.

She didn't hesitate then and positioned herself between his legs before slowly cleaning both around in the open cuts on his temple and lip that she discovered after wiping away the blood that dripped from his nose.

The position they were in made (Name) almost dizzy with nerves, and she longed to get closer. But it was only longing and she didn't dare to do anything about it and therefore stayed at an arm's length. The new feelings made her weak. Made her feel vulnerable, and that too was scary. Extremely scary.

He suddenly hissed as she slipped with her hands. It didn't take a second before an unusual amount of guilt in her chest.

"I'm sorry, I lost focus."

He nodded. A way of showing that it is okay. But his jaw still clenched when she proceeded with the plasters.

"I need to look at your stomach too." There was quiet as she stood in front of him, waiting for him to raise his shirt. But he didn't seem to be compliant. "I only need to check for anything broken."

He seemed to let down his guard when she added the reason, and her body warmed in shame when she understood that Theodore thought she wanted to see his bare skin.

Also because Theodore had started to lift his shirt, revealing his bare skin to her. She felt almost flattered that he trusted her enough to undress like this. But she knew he didn't have much of a choice.

"Lay down please." He once again did as she said, and slowly leaned into his bed, stretching his upper body when his back hit the mattress. It was quiet in the room, the only thing that you could hear being Theodore's uneven breathing and (Name)'s airy gasp when her eyes landed on his bruised ribs.

"By Merlin, what did they do to you?" she asked him while she took a closer look. The left side of his ribcage had been beaten to the point where the bruises turned yellow and green instead of blue and purple.

"What? What is it?" he moved his hand toward the bruises, trying to feel after the thing that had gotten her stunned but she quickly grabbed his wrist so that he wouldn't cause himself any unnecessary pain. Especially not when she had already made him feel enough pain for the rest of her life.

She swallowed and rested Theodore's hand by his side. He stared at her tensely as she brought her hand up, letting it float over his ribcage. This time, his entire body unknowingly tensed as he waited for the pain that would come when she laid her hand on him. But she never did. Instead, she closed her eyes.

Warmth flowed in waves from the palm of her hand and Theodore's body began to slowly un-tense.

Theodore would trust her with his own worthless life if it came to it, and it wasn't why he felt so on edge. To have her fingers, her flesh so close to his own given his heart something to work for and his brain something to think of. And if he weren't in such agony, he would've begged her to touch him. To lay her warm palm upon his beaten skin, to kiss it, to caress it.

His pathetic thoughts were happily interrupted as the pads of her finger accidentally made contact with his sternum, and a delighted shiver crawled its way over his body.

"Sorry." She apologized, thinking that she had caused him pain.

"It didn't hurt." She looked at him with an unbelieving frown, a frown that made his tongue twist when he tried to stutter an answer.

"Or it does hurt, but your touch... doesn't hurt." She barely heard the last part. Barely, but she still did. Her body heat skyrocketed, and she bit the inside of her cheek to hide her flustered expression, and also to stop the dancing butterflies that made their way up her throat.

He didn't know what came over him at that moment, but a sudden urge to tell her everything limped its way into his mind. It was a long time since he felt this vulnerable and was okay with it. An old memory of him as a child in his mother's arms flashed before his eyes, but he quickly locked it away once more.

But he bit his tongue.

He was sure that she thought he looked pathetic. Here he lay, half-naked, beaten bloodied with tears in his eyes and a frown on his face. He didn't know if he enjoyed the thought or not, because while he enjoyed being vulnerable for you, he still didn't want you to think he was weak because of the touch of the woman he had been obsessing over.

"You must care for this person, hm?" She awkwardly laughed as she smoothly changed the subject. She didn't want to know who he fought for, nor why he did it. But it started getting harder and harder for her to keep to the promise she made herself. To keep him at a distance. Both physically and emotionally.

Theodore didn't have time to answer, both because he was overthrown by the complete change of conversation, but also because she spoke again before he even opened his mouth.

"Who is it anyway. I honestly didn't know you could care about someone that much." She joked harmlessly, but the comment made his mouth feel like paper.

"You."

She stopped her magic, fingers retracting into her palm and her head snapped up to meet his eyes, to see if he lied. But she saw only honesty. No side smirk, no crinkle by his eyes, no pursing lips as a way to hide a mischievous smile.

His eyes were peering at her through his lashes, innocent, brown eyes.

"What- What do you mean?"She carefully asked, knowing exactly what he meant. But she needed confirmation.

"It was you who they spoke ill about." He murmured, staring into the abyss of her eyes. Her body burned like it was on fire because of the nerves that he created within her. And she wanted to look away so that she could catch her breath but she deemed it impossible.

A glaze was cast over his eyes, a glaze containing something akin to admiration.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" The question slipped before she could think about stopping it.

Once more, he didn't say anything. But she could feel how he moved. His arm slowly encircled her and the other hand, he raised to her cheek. His fingers danced along her cheekbone, spreading a fire on her skin that she didn't know to be possible until now.

But the moment changed, as did the energy in the room as he carefully leaned closer with big, hopeful eyes. She stood frozen, one part not believing what was about to happen and the other knowing that if she valued herself, she would have to remove herself right now.

Before he took the next step, she pulled her face away.

Deep in her gut, there was a sour scorching feeling that began to spread like poisoning, killing all happiness that was present before and taking the form of angry tears in her eyes. It was unfair, how he could treat her however he liked, be as awful as he wished. And still have her here, sitting in his sheets and bandaging him with gentle hands.

It was unfair.

"You are so contradicting Theodore." Tears were stuck in her voice and she quickly raised from the bed. She didn't want him to see that she was hurting.

"What?" There was a pang in her heart. He sounded small, like a wounded animal.

"You are mean Theodore." She started, turning around to look at him." At first, you treated me like an equal, like a friend. Until you didn't."

He couldn't meet her eyes anymore, regret eating its way from his heart to his skin. She sniffled and cleared her throat when it became harder to keep her tears at bay.

"I thought that I'd done something to make you hate me, and I was sure you did. But then you kept insisting to sit by me, or to be around me and I couldn't understand." Her voice became small, and her tears became uncontrollable. The embarrassment of sobbing in front of him made her stomach churn, and all she wanted was to shrink into herself. She wanted him to laugh at her, to mock her so that she could get over it and move on.

But that wasn't what Theodore wanted at all. He made her feel hated by him when all he wanted was to be loved by her. And he now felt adamant to change that.

However, it's hard when he slowly crumbles as her tears continue to fall.

"I'm sorry."

And he needs to go to her. So he raises himself off the soft bed and limps toward her. But before he gets too close she turns her back on him, hiding from his fierce gaze. He sighed, saddened by her shyness, the one that had worked hard to get through, only to mess it up either way.

She wrapped her arms around herself and bowed her head to the floor when her sobbing turned into hulking and gasps for air. That was when she felt something different. Theodore had enclosed his hands on her upper arms from behind, giving them gentle caresses with his thumbs. And once more, the caresses spread the wildfire. Her body warmed and her breathing calmed as if the comfort worked.

She didn't know why she doubted that his comfort would work in the first place. Maybe because she wanted to think that he wasn't anything special to her. That love didn't do any difference when it came to a person. But he was, and it did.

Suddenly, before she could blink he turned her around and gently tugged her into his bare chest, enclosing his arms around her in an embrace. The hug didn't last long, but it didn't have to because it brought comfort either way. When he pulled away his hands immediately reached for her cheeks.

When his hands cup both sides of her face, she flinches back. But she doesn't get anywhere for his grip is unmoving. His thumb suddenly touched the space between her eyebrows and began slowly stroking the space, evening out the frown on her face.

She swallows hard. "It was never my intention to make you feel this way." He sighed. A deep heartfelt sigh." I just wanted your attention. And your laughs and your love. But my so thought to be efficacious methods didn't seem to be as efficacious as I believed them to be."

A humorous chuckle rumbles through his chest when a tiny, watery smile tugs at the corner of her lips. And then (Name) feels the aftermath of her sobbing catching up to her body, and a headache grows in her skull. And that's why she lets her forehead rest on the space in between his collarbones.

"Can you ever forgive me?" He asks while letting his fingers push her back from her tear-stained face. She makes a sound in the back of her throat.

"How can I not."

Her voice still had a watery touch to it but sounded more optimistic than she had the entire day. And Theodore tightened his arms around her. But the action sent a jolt of pain through his stomach, and therefore staggered into as he tried to lean some of his body weight on her. But since she wasn't ready, she stumbled against the wall.

"Sorry." He mumbled and pulled away from the embrace.

She chuckled while looking towards the floor, before slowly dragging her eyes up to his face. And then, out of pure instinct, she kissed his cheek and his entire body flared up. "You don't have to apologize."

She hoped he realized the double meaning behind her words. And that she truly did forgive him. Perhaps it would be a stupid decision she would come to regret. But it would be a future problem.

A gentle smile licked her features when he once again cupped her cheeks in his warm palms, and she was on top of the world when he slowly leaned closer.

But he moved so slow, and (Name) wanted to feel him and therefore rose to her toes to gently connect the kiss. It was only a peck, and also short-lived. But it was also her first kiss which meant that it still felt like a thousand suns burned in her chest.

But Theodore seemed to think differently, and with a breath, connected their lips into another sweet, blissful kiss. Although this one not only was deeper but also felt like it was. Her heart beat inside her ribs, more alive than ever when Theodore continued to angle her to meet his lips as he wished. As of the moment, he was pushing her into the wall with his chest, trying to feel as much of her as possible. But since he pressed into her, she had to angle her head up so that he would reach her lips.

Her lungs were burning, and her head spun and she had no choice but to pull away. When she did, Theodore quickly tried to connect their lips again, but she didn't let him. It wasn't that she didn't want to kiss him because she did. But she also wanted to look at him. To see his brown eyes, his pink kissed lips, and rosy cheeks.

"You look pretty." She whispered, and lightly kissed his nose. It was out of her character, but it felt right to do so. Especially when she saw the surprised face that he wore.

And at that moment, Theodore felt at peace. There was no itching on his arm, no pain and she was officially his known addiction. He would never let her go now.

•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·••·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·••·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•

I'm so lonely. Anyhow, hope you enjoyed, and that it wasn't to long;)

Quick question, do you prefer 1:st 2:nd or 3:rd pov?

I have a serious question and I need answers! Do you prefer 1rst person POV, like you, yourself and so on or 3rd pov when it's like she or him to describe the reader. PLEASE GIVE ME ANSWERS.

hi, darling, could you write another reader of theodore nott x f!reader? maybe where f!reader is insecure about herself and theo's friends comment on the nice body that the other girls have in the common room... theo realizes that over time his girlfriend's insecurity is greater despite that he always tries to cut her down (plus she really has a nice body) so he decides to tell her how beautiful she is to him and etc... just fluff and a bit of angst (f!reader and theo are in a relationship and they are from slytherin)

Hello there. It is a great ask and I will try my best to get it done! Although I'm warning you that I am a pretty slow writer but I will try my best!

𝕃𝕖𝕥𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝔸𝕟𝕕 𝕀𝕟𝕜

𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑜𝑑𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑁𝑜𝑡𝑡 𝑥 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟

𝑊𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: 𝐴𝑛𝑔𝑠𝑡, 𝑓𝑙𝑢𝑓𝑓, 𝑠𝑙𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑠𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑢𝑛𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛,

𝑆𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: 𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑡𝑟𝑦 𝑡𝑜 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑓𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝑏𝑦 𝑙𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑠, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑖𝑡 𝑑𝑖𝑑𝑛'𝑡 𝑔𝑜 𝑎𝑠 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑤𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑒𝑑 𝑓𝑜𝑟

𝑊𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 5𝑘

A/N: my second fic, took forever to write as usual. Enjoy:)

Theo stared intently at his desk with his arms crossed over his chest. He was sitting in divination, not listening as Professor Trewlany droned on about 'the art of studying horoscope charts'. Every single word that escaped her mouth made its way to Theo's ears like a mosquito's bussing, which irked him to no end. He didn't even know why he signed up for the class to begin with. That's a lie. The reason he was slumping in this class was absurd, and the absurd reason was sitting by the round table in front of him, looking half asleep.

He struck you a glance, feeling the scent of overly-soaked tea and Incense reach his nose as he took a deep breath. He felt truly pathetic. Taking a ridiculous class for a girl. He could practically hear his ancestors cackling at him from their graves.

But how could he not, it was you. You with your old sweaters, you with that sarcastic mouth, you with that creative and colorful mind that always seemed to impress him. As he said before, absurd.

His eyes slowly traveled back to his table. Or rather what was laying on his table.

Before, at the almost beginning of the lesson, he'd found a letter in amongst his books. It looked like it had been written on very old parchment, and the ink that spelled out Theodore was smudged on the edges as if someone had swiped their hand over it before letting the ink dry.

He picked it up and thumbed at the edge of the folded paper, speculating if he should open it or not. A part of him was filled with nerves and slightly excited about receiving a letter. But at the same time dread, it because what if it was a detailed written letter about someone's undying love for him.

Theo truly couldn't understand how some people loved him so much that they felt the need to confess by letter. He had never really been the most handsome when he was younger, at least that was what he thought, but when he grew into puberty it changed. His looks, his voice, his height. And also his popularity among the boys and girls at Hogwarts and along with the streets of London.

"Mr. Nott!" He slowly carried his eyes forwards, meeting his gaze with the big googly eyes of Professor Trewlany, along with every single student in the classroom.

"Ah! There you are, though I had lost you for a second there." she smiled toothily,  and she continued with the lesson as if nothing had happened.

He felt embarrassment crawl steadily up his neck, and he lightly cleared his throat as if he could cough away the feeling.

Feeling a pair of eyes crawling over him, he looked around, finding that it was you that had been looking at him. Warmth rose to his ears, and the feelings had come to be to get too much for Theo.

He lightly tilted his head to you, as if asking what you wanted, and you raised one of your eyebrows at him as if it were obvious why you were staring at him. And you knew that he knew what you meant when he mouthed a 'later' before trying to focus on your lesson again. Albeit it was hard, as his fingers itched to unfold the letter but he wanted to open it outside the classroom with your guidance.

You slowly turned in your seat again, still wondering what could have gotten him so tense.

--

His head quickly turned around when you got a hold of him, and his face pleasantly relaxed when he saw you scowling at a student that had pushed you aside to get by. You proceeded to push him forward as you felt students starting to step at the heel of your shoes.

When the lesson finally came to an end, you did your best to stand up and sprint after Theo, even though your body tingled in pain from the uncomfortable position you sat in during the last hours. You saw his mop of hair walk out of the doorway, and you hurriedly shoved through your classmates to catch up with him. And when you finally reached him, you quickly took a handful of the back of his robe so that either you or he wouldn't lose each other in the crowd.

"Alright, alright, no need to push me." He told with a slight attitude layering with his clear voice. You rolled your eyes but did listen to him either way, not having the energy to push him either way.

It felt like you could breathe again when you finally arrived at the end of the stairs, and you slowly let go of Theo's robe as your hand started to cramp because of the harsh clasp you had on him. And the two of you began to track through the corridor that led to the courtyard.

"Nice weather today innit?" Theo looked at you weirdly as you tried to small talk. Your steps echoed in the once empty hall, and he wondered what had gotten you so awkward all of a sudden.

You couldn't help but take a look at him as you walked shoulder against shoulder. His hair was different like he'd started to take care of his dark brown locks. Its hair had a new shine to it, especially when the sun hit it. You lightly cleared your throat when you realized that you were starting again, and looked out of one of the big windows.

"What, you want to go out or something." He asked, and it wasn't until after he said it that he realized how it sounded. But it didn't seem like you noticed. He didn't know whether he should be happy or not about it.

You thought about it, and you decided that it did sound like a good idea. So you gave him a nod.

"Good, because I need your help." You watched curiously as he dug his hand into his pant pocket, and pulled out a piece of folded paper. Your eyes widened almost comically as you watched him fiddle with the familiar piece of parchment. You felt as if the hallway suddenly became a little bit too warm, and you felt yourself starting to sweat under your school uniform.

"Found this in one of my books earlier." He told you, turning the paper around, inspecting it. Panic began to rise in your chest as he grabbed your wrist and dragged you along, his eyes still caught on the letter.

Why didn't he open it when he got it?! Is he stupid?! Why do I need to be with him, does he know? Is he trying to embarrass me?

"Oh, hold on! I just remembered. Professor Dumbledor wanted me to go to his office after divination, something about Magic of dark arts." Everything came out in a jumble of words and you were worried that you were going to get tongue-tied.

You looked around yourself, trying to find anything that would bring you out of the awkward situation. But nothing. So you used your brain the best you could, trying to find a good enough excuse to get out of the excruciatingly embarrassing moment.

Theo watched you with suspicion. You were doing good in that class, always graduating with the highest grade. But he recently let you go, either way, finding no peace in arguing with you.

"Alright, see you later then." He nodded, and you saw how he was fighting off a frown, but you shook the guilt off and ran towards Dumbledor's office. Or more like running past his office and sprinting towards the Gryffindor common rooms.

You pushed through the people on the stairs, accidentally stepping on Neville's foot in the process.

"Sorry, Neville!" Nevil, Dean, and Seamus watched you crawl up the stairs in a hurry.

"I'm telling you, that lady is crazy." Seamus voiced, and Dean snorted loudly.

--

"So stupid." You muttered, shaking your head.

"Mimbulus Mimbletonia." You articulated, giving a glance to your surroundings before slipping into the red and yellow painted common room. The room was luckily empty, most of the students enjoying the last warmth of the sun before it became cold once again. You unconsciously started pacing around in the room with your thumbnail getting amused by your teeth.

"So, so stupid. Why would you give him a letter? He hates letters." Cursing at your stupid decisions, you threw yourself on one of the couches, letting your body melt into the fluffy cushions with your jaw resting on the place between your collarbones.

"Shut up Fred."

"Oh, what a depressing sight." Someone sighed deeply, a faux petty in their voice. You knew that voice by heart and didn't have to look up when two weights invited themselves on either side of your potato bag of a body.

"He's right, you look depressing. Maybe even a bit pathetic, with a little piece of hopelessness in the mix." George rubbed his imaginary beard as he thought about what you looked like.

You sighed. Normally the presence of a Weasly would be enough to dig you out of your moods, but this time it did the opposite.

"Thanks, I'm aware." There was a bite in your voice, and the twins met eyes, both holding a pinch of surprise in their brown irises.

Fred slowly sank into the couch, mirroring your body language. Whether it was to tease you or if he felt as utterly dumb as you did, no one knew. And frankly, you didn't care.

"Oh? was that what I thought it was?" Fred egged on, and the small laugh that escaped you was uncontrolled. It was strange how they were able to be such mood lifters. Because they could be real asshats in their moments.

"Soooooo." You felt George starting to rearrange is the position he was in, and after some shuffling around, he was laying on his stomach with his legs swaying back and forth. They stared at you with those puppy dog-like eyes, and you were forced to push your tongue against the wall of your cheek to not let your smile show.

"How did the letter thing go, did you woo him with your charming letter." And you were back to sulking once more.

"It went shit." You muttered.

"Elaborate." Fred encouraged, resting his head in his palm.

You sighed dramatically before resting your head on the edge of the back seat.

"He didn't open the letter when he got it, and then he expected me - who wrote the letter - to sit with him while he read it like a bloody moron." Rambling and exaggerating were two things of your specialty. It did occur often, but fortunately, no one seemed to think that it mattered, only finding it a little more amusing.

"Well, he must know that you're so extremely head over heels in love with him either way now since he read the letter I mean," Ginny spoke up from nowhere and your head snapped towards her when she did. Fred and George agreed from their point of view, thinking that the problem was solved.

"They told me." She quickly defended herself while pointing at the two boys on your sides.

"Why wouldn't you sign with your name when you declared your love for him, you moron," Ginny whined. And you tried to get out an excuse for your stupid mistake.

"Well, he would know, yes. If it weren't for the fact that I did not sign my name." With a guilty mumble, you sank even further down on the couch, feeling the weight of the consequences of your action on your shoulders. Or rather the lack of action.

The three siblings simultaneously groaned and complained at your confession.

"Bu- Well it wasn't like it was an 'exact declaration'. I just wrote about how his hair and eyes looked nice." You shrugged with a small pout forming on your lips. The whole ordeal was beginning to feel ridiculous and you were starting to regret ever giving him the note in the first place.

"What did you even expect to happen. That he would figure out who it was in two seconds and run into your arms?" Ginny asked, and the twins gasped comedically.

"Harsh, sister."

You let out a pitiful groan. "No, she's right. I should just... not continue. Let it be." You gave yourself an encouraging nod, ignoring the sinking feeling in your chest. You wanted to Nott about your feelings so bad, but you didn't have the mental strength to get turned down, and potentially ruin the only thing that let you be close to Theodore.

"No! That's even dumber! You are going to continue with this letter thing you've started with." Ginny pointed at you sternly, and she watched your eyes turn big at her tone of voice.

"Or else... Or else I'm going to take you off the Quidditch team." She crossed her arms over her chest and stared down at the three of you. And just when you opened your mouth Ginny made sure to shut it.

To everyone's surprise, including your own, you did continue to anonymously send those poetic words to Theodore, and while you didn't do it with any proclaimed confidence, you didn't sit by the side to wait for the faith to tie you together.

"And don't think that I can't, because I know people." She informed with a stone face and puffed chest. You quickly nodded, not finding yourself intimidated by the younger girl, though still trusting her words. And with the confirmation from you, she swiftly turned around and let her legs carry her towards the door, intending to get that last beams of sunlight on her face.

--

And even though Theo might be the unaware genius, he was still observant and could detect a shift of emotion by the smallest twitch of an eyebrow or the tiny wrinkle on someone's nose. But it didn't seem to be in his favor for the situation he was glued in.

Though you didn't know if you gained a positive response from him since you always avoided him after the letter was hidden and given. And as Theodore was the smartest wizard in the house of Slytherin, in your year at least. It astounded you that the cunning Mr. Nott still hadn't come to figure out that the letters were from you. But you didn't know his point of view, and that was not calming your anxiety one bit. For while you craved for him to know your affections for him, you knew that the risk of rejection was still a major possibility of an outcome.

So when the lesson ended he quickly took a strong grip on your wrist before forcefully dragging you after him. At first, you didn't outwardly question him or protest, but when you saw the nicely folded papers in between his fingers, you felt a cooling bucket of panic getting thrown over your head.

He did notice that every time he brought up the factor that he wanted to show you something, you were immediately gone by the second. And your -what he hopes was- excuses were thoroughly thought out and planned, making them seem like they were only coincidences. And on his fifth letter he decided that it was time to tell you about the letters, even if, for whatever reason, you didn't want to hear.

Fear began to take over, doubts and anxious questions filling your brain to the rim. You attempted to object and you were beginning to run out of excuses, but it didn't matter because the second you opened your mouth you were shut down or hushed by Theodore.

"Oh Nott come on, stop being impossible!" you tried to protest.

"Oh hush and quit whining." Muttering. You despised when he muttered.

He grabbed the chair closest to you, and as the gentleman, he was, pulled it out for you.

It appeared to you that he was taking you to the library, and you let that calm your nerves since you knew that he would never try any confrontation in a public space. But to your horror, the library was packed with students. He decided that a spot in the back would be the best option, both for his and your comfort. And after accidentally walking into someone he finally arrived at the corner that he was looking for.

But you didn't seem to understand because first, you looked down at the seat that was meant for you before you slowly allowed your eyes to travel upon Theo, who was looking at you with a newfound determination. He was closer to your face than you prepared for, and you instinctively held your breath so that you wouldn't breathe on his face.

When you looked at him, Theo almost wanted to drop the act that he had going on. You looked up at him with big, questioning eyes and it took Theo the little self-restraint left after all the years with you to not do something regrettable.

"Sit." You could see his sharp canines as let the world out between his lips. It wasn't an ask and neither was it a suggestion. His demand caught you so off-guard that he didn't have time to blink before you were sitting on your chair.

"As you can see, I've been getting letters." He started.

Theo felt a small amount of ridiculous as he ordered you around, but he didn't have a choice since if he didn't, you would continue to slip through his fingers like an eel. He sat himself down in the red-clad chair and slowly pulled out the letters, trying to gauge a reaction from you. But your face didn't show any signs of discomfort, uneasiness, or awkwardness. The only emotion visible on your face was the cursed confusion.

"And I think that you already knew that since you've been trying to get away from me every time I try to bring them up." He paid notice to how your back slightly straightened, and he took that as an I sign to continue.

"But that doesn't matter right now." And that's a lie.

You watched as he tried to find the right words and a deep sigh told you that he was struggling. You had known Theo for 4 years, and even though he had a great capacity for writing and reading, he was still struggling with his speech. And it wasn't that he was bad at his grammar, he just had a problem expressing his feelings. And that had gotten you into many unforgettable fights and misunderstandings.

"I need your help." It was mumbled, almost not heard. You raised your eyebrows in slight surprise, feeling slightly helpless as you watched the seemingly distressed young man in front of you.

"And what might it be that Mr. Nott might need help with." You crossed your leg over the other, and you felt slightly bizarre at this moment.

Theodore watched your pellicular manner and raised his eyebrow at you when you reminded him a bit too much of a phycologist.

"Seriously, what's up with you?" He asked, but didn't have the needed patience to wait for an answer that wouldn't come.

"Whatever, what should I do with the letters?" What. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion.

"I'm afraid I'm lost."

He sighed, rolling his eyes and scoffing, seemingly feeling irritated by the fact that you didn't understand him for shit.

"Should I read them, throw them away? Or maybe you should read them?" He sounded conflicted like it was one of the hardest decisions he'd ever had to make, and you got curious about what could've gotten him to behave like he did at the moment.

"Wait, you haven't read the letters." It was more a conclusion than a question.

For some reason was the first emotion you felt embarrassment, and you had no clue as to why. Something in the back of your head told you that he knew that you were the culprit, but it was almost if not impossible for him to know. Or perhaps it was for the fact that you felt so desperate to know how he felt for you.

You could feel yourself sinking into your chair as Theo shook his head.

"I was going to read the first with you, but it seemed that Dumbledore's office and quidditch seemed to be more interesting." A small scowl melted upon your face, and annoyance flared up in your chest as he blamed his cowardness on you.

Theo felt his heart rattle as you lightly glared at him, whether it was from the feeling of excitement or uneasiness, he didn't know. And as an answer to your glare, almost like an instinct, he raised a challenging eyebrow.

It made you roll your eyes, starting to get tired of his childish behavior.

"Coward." You mumbled.

"I'm not a coward, I don't want to open the letters if I don't know who they're from." He hastily defended, and once again your face scrunched up in confusion. You shifted in your chair, uncrossing your legs and letting them fall to the sides as you sagged even more. And out of an accident, your foot made contact with his. You were just about to jump away, but Theo didn't move nor recognize it, so neither did you.

"So you want the letters to be from a specific person?" You sighed tiredly. You waited for the shake of his head and speech of denial. But it didn't come. Instead, he slowly nodded, while looking at you through his lashes.

You let your face be overcome by faux surprise and excitement and tilted your body forwards so that you could rest your head in your hands.

"Who is it." You cringed at the squeal in your voice, but you didn't let it show for the sake of your little act.

"I don't see how that's any of your business." There was a shift in his tone, and you were taken aback by the quick change in demeanor. You slowly leaned back with a scoff stuck in your throat.

Theodore suddenly felt uncomfortable by your sudden show of excitement and his stomach slowly sunk as his thoughts went haywire. It was obvious to him that you wouldn't show this excitement over who he might love, especially if you didn't know who. He pressed his lips together in misfortune and let himself get consumed by the failure and shame.

The letters weren't brought up again after that, and Theodore seemed to have dropped his strange attitude and gone back to his normal, brooding, and charming self. Although you couldn't shake off the feeling that something had changed with him, you just couldn't pinpoint what.

"No need to get so defending Nott. I was only asking." He scoffed lightly and began to back his letters into his robe.

Your butt had started to ache and it felt like the old tree bench had started to grow roots to you because of how long Oliver had been discussing tactics and positions and whatnot for the last hour. You understood that he wanted to win because you all did. But you didn't believe that sitting on your arses was the best way to prepare.

"Alright, let's wrap this up. Fred, George. You had something to say?" Slightly shifting on the bench, you watched as the twins switches places with Oliver and you exchanged glances with Angelina, but she didn't look like she knew what they were up to either.

"We would like, as a start for our speech, to get our lovely chaser (name) up on stage." Two hands grabbed the fabric of your red and gold clothes, and you yelped as you were roughly pulled up, and squished between the twins.

"That's what is suspected. And how convenient that our chaser has given us her hands." You started to protest in their grip as the small crowd four broke out in applause and jubilee. But before you were able to break out from their strong grip, they turned to you and blocked your way with their tall frames.

There was a silence before they began again."How many in here, would like a free broom service." The entire room stretched their hands up, and you started to suspect evil in their minds. But you let them continue for the sake of your sanity.

"If we win, you confess to your Slytherin man." You quickly opened your mouth to protest but as usual, you were quickly shut down. " And if you refuse, the night will be spent with six broomsticks instead of snogging with Nott." George finished Fred's sentence, and you squirmed at their bluntness and choice of words.

Their faces were a void of amusement, and you felt yourself being pushed into a corner. Both figuratively and literally.

"Alright fine. Fine! I'll do it. If this is the only way you'll leave my love life alone. I'll do it." You only mumbled the last part, the words being meant more as a personal encouragement.

That's why it came as a surprise that you could hear Theodore's sharp whistle through the autumn air.

They silently did their celebrations, high five and a little too hard slap on your back. And after five minutes, you were standing on the side of the court, swallowing down your nerves and waiting to step up on your brooms and start the game.

--

You watched in broad horror as Harry catches the snitch before the Hufflepuff did, your stomach turning itself inside out with nerves. You had seen Theodore in the crowd, and while it normally would make you giddy, it didn't go quite the same this time. The shouts and hollers of victory were ears deafening around you, and that combined with the buzz in your ears because your adrenalin rush made it hard for you to even hear your thoughts.

You found him standing on the edge of the stand, and when he saw that he had your attention, he gently waved you down to him with his hand. Almost immediately, you directed your broom down and stopped it so that you would be eye to eye with him.

"Hello." He was leaning against the wooden beam that was acting like a railing, with a small, sly smirk on his face.

"Hi." The shy smile on your face was uncontrollable, but you couldn't help it because you had never seen Theodore looking at you with such eyes.

"You did a good job out there."

"Why thank you." You answered bashfully. Theodore looked down on his armrest with a small smile, and began to slowly trace it with his fingers.

"You know, I never would've guessed that you could be such a poet." He watched your face twist in confusion.

You felt your body begin to warm, pushing away the autumn cold as hooded Theodore's eyes were locked with your lips.

"Sorry, but I'm no poet." You answered carefully, sensing what this was about. But you couldn't understand. He said that he didn't read the letters, and even if he did it later, it meant that it had only taken him one day to figure out who it was from. A gulp scratched your throat as Theodore's eyes began to travel away from yours. Like a soft caress, they raked over your face, from your brows to your soft cheek, ending on the cupid of your lips.

"You're a dick sometimes."

"Nott-." That's all of your warnings that you were able to get out before he placed a big open-mouthed kiss on your cold lips. At first, your entire body became rigid as a rock of surprise, until the other one of Theo's hands positioned itself on the back of your neck. A sound scaped the back of your throat as you started to relax against his lips, and you felt yourself getting lost in the feeling of ecstasy.

Now you were just confused. Your mouth hung open with unsaid words, but your brain seemed to have stopped training because of the stunning words that Theodore provided. He rolled his eyes, and you were beginning to get seriously annoyed at his cryptic behavior. Until he forcefully grabbed the collar of your red and gold clothing and pulled you towards him.

Theodore watched you with hooded eyes, feeling pleasure from only seeing your content face. But he had to pull away because he had been holding his breath ever since this morning.

So he gave a teasing lick with his tongue on your lower lip before he slowly pulled away. You tried to chase him with your lips, but the grip that he had on your shirt prevented you from so desperately locking your lips again.

"So you knew that it was my letters." You mumbled, watching him with slanted eyes.

He chuckled, and you were broken out of your bliss when he released you from his death grip. Both of your heads snapped towards the court when two surprisingly loud voices were heard whooping. Fred and George gave each other a high five again, and you shrank in embarrassment as you realized that your intimate moment with Theodore wasn't as secluded as you thought it was. When you looked at him as again, you realized that you had always cherished him. And that he would always have your soul and heart wrapped around his pinky, imbedded with his silver rings.

"I had no idea." He smiled lightly." As I said, I didn't want to read the letters until I knew that it was from the person that I wanted it to be."

You sighed loudly, your insides melting.

"You are adorable." Happily, you cupped his rosy cheeks and mushed them together to see his cute pout. He tried to struggle out of your grip, and when you let go of his cheeks he was glaring at you. But you didn't let yourself be fooled by his handsome face, instead trusting his blushing ears that he wasn't as opposed. And with a last peck in-between his eyebrows, you flew away as you wanted to get out of your sweaty clothes to later spend time with the young wizard and not cleaning brooms.

--

That's it, I have come to realise my inability to write a One shot under 5k. Bye.

Should i open my request????🤔

𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠'𝐬 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠

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Steve rogers x reader

Category: Angst, fluff

Warnings: Description of an injury and blood, mentions of nausea, fainting

Summary: (Name) has never had the currant to tell Steve about the injuries, afraid of bothering him. Not realizing that it can backfire.

Words: 2.6 k

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(Name) loved Steve Rogers with her entire being, and she believed that every person she met felt the same. With his blue eyes, kind smile, and charisma. How he cared about every living, breathing thing around him.

But it didn't stop her from shutting down whenever he was irritated, mad, or even tense. Maybe it was because of past trauma, or that she simply didn't want to become the reason why he was mad. But every time he became like that, (Name) felt almost scared.

Not of him, of course, but scared that he don't want her near him. It has happened before with other people.

Which was why she was sitting in a corner of the quinjet, headphones over her ears as she tried to control the pain that bloomed like wildfire over her back.

It was an unsuccessful mission. And she knew Steve, like everybody else, hated unsuccessful missions. He was leaning against a wall, both arms crossed over his chest with a hard, stony look on his face. He didn't speak to anyone, stuck in his little world.

And she didn't want to be an inconvenience by whining about the flesh wound on her back. Especially if he hadn't noticed that she was in pain.

Either way, she planned on patching it up herself, and then going to bed, hoping that the storm would calm enough for the next day. And if she were feeling luxurious, she might even go to the med bay to get the wound checked on.

Except she hadn't planned on the fact that the wound was efficiently placed on her back, therefore making it out of reach for her to clean it. And she was way too exhausted to ask anyone else or to even care about the matter. So she grabbed the bandages and wrapped them around her chest and back, leaving it like that before turning off the lights in her bathroom and throwing herself headfirst in the bed.

Not knowing Steve lay on the other side of the wall, waiting for her to come and say goodnight.

--

The next morning, the ache in her back had gotten worse, and her left shoulder strained whenever she tried to move it. She needed to get to the med bay at least once today. But first, she required a big cup of coffee.

When she made it out to the sunlit kitchen, the pain in her back had spread. Now, her head ached just as much, and every time she turned too fast, black splotches would show.

And earlier, when she changed her bandages the blood had entirely seeped through, leaving it soaked in red. But the blood had been diluted with another liquid, which she found mildly concerning.

She poured herself the coffee that was left in the coffee machine and put it in the microwave since it was cold. And while she stood there waiting she noted that the kitchen was empty, which was strange to be at this time of the day.

"Jarvis? Do you mind telling me where everyone is?" She asked the AI.

"I believe that Mr. Wilson is still sleeping." She let out a humorous scoff." Mr. Stark and Mr. Banner are currently in the lab. Ms. Romanoff in the training areas with Mr. Rogers."

(Name)s ears perked at the mention of him, and her mind spiraled into calculating thoughts. "Did Steve already eat breakfast?"

"Yes. An omelet, made of three eggs and a cup of coffee, one teaspoon of sugar, and milk." A frown tugged at her face. Steve never ate breakfast without her. Unless they were fighting, which was a rare happening. Steve believed that the most important meal of the day was breakfast, and therefore always made sure that (Name) ate it with him. But so that he could have company, and also make sure that she ate enough.

"Alright then. Thank you, Jarvis." She smiled up to the roof, hoping that he could see her appreciativeness. Then she made a beeline back to her room with a downturn of her brow, planning to do paperwork before throwing herself into her, not so fantastic anymore, day. Completely forgetting her visit to the med bay.

--

Paperwork had always been a somewhat calming thing to do for her to relax, turn off her brain, and go on autopilot. Often when she was stressed, Steve found her with her nose in her computer typing away without any knowledge around her. It always worked.

Except for today.

The pain in her head only got worse after all the caffeine, and she couldn't lean back into her chair either because of her back. And not only that, but thoughts of Steve plagued her mind. And not the good, lovey-dovey thoughts. But instead, the toxic, poisoning thoughts were so loud that it was the only thing she heard.

She had no idea what to do about their situation. And she was really afraid that she had accidentally done something the day before to upset him, giving her a reason for his strange and unlike actions.

"Mr. Rogers would like me to alert you that there is a team meeting in the conference room in five minutes." She jumped in her chair and a small yelp left her lips as Jarvis spoke, making her back strain. And that made her wince painfully.

"I apologize. It was not my intention to frighten you." A grimace covered (Name)s face in an attempt to smile, and she carefully rubbed her shoulder.

"Don't worry about it. I was just stuck in my head."

"How so?" And (Name) went quiet. She hadn't expected a question from him.

"Nothing special." She absentmindedly hummed for an answer, and that seemed to get Jarvis less curious.

"If you say so. 3 minutes left." And with that, she quickly grabbed her things and bolted out of her quarters, right towards the elevator.

--

She turned out to arrive just in time as Fury was about to close the door, and she quickly slithered in, choosing a stool at the back of the table so that she wouldn't get questioning eyes on her. When she entered she could feel Steves's's stare burning into her skin, but she doesn't have the time nor thought to greet him, which would perhaps leave consequences for later. But now she just longed to sit down before she fainted.

She didn't even notice when Fury started speaking because blood was rushing through her ears, and beads of sweat ran down her neck, sending a shiver through her ice-cold and fire-hot body. It was like she running a fever in an ice bath. She dared to subtly raise a shaking hand towards her back, slightly touching the wound, only to have to suppress a wince and bring back blood-stained fingers.

She was at least wearing black.

Her attention shifted when Fury changed places with Steve, and let him take his place in the front. It was hard to know if she found it either positive or negative.

Positive because she could focus on something that brought her calm, and hear his voice instead of the roar in her ears. Focus on his plack t-shirt and nice fitting jeans, which was something he didn't wear often. How soft hir hair looked and his pink , kissable lips.

Negative because now he could see how colorless her face had become, along with a thin cover of sweat by her throat and her lifeless tired eyes.

And perhaps it made Steve speak a tad bit faster, and perhaps he skipped over some of the parts he was supposed to introduce. But it looked like his girlfriend was dying, and Fury didn't need to know that his two most capable agents were in a relationship.

He could her heartbeat picking up more and more as he spoke, and it was a relief for him when he could finally dismiss the team.

She slowly stood up as the rest of them collected their things and one by one filed out. But she couldn't do anything as quickly as she liked, not even walk. She had no choice but to take a tight grip on the chairs lined up, and use them as crutches.

And when Steve turned his back to gather a pile of papers, she took a breath, straightened her back, and took two quick steps towards the door. But Steve heard the increase of speed in her steps in quickly caught her arms in a fierce grip, stopping her from escaping.

"Damn it." She mumbled, making sure that Steve couldn't hear her. And then she turned her head to meet Steves's's eye, trying to look as normal as possible, which didn't trick Steve at all. Only made him more concerned.

"You alright?" He let both of his hands smooth over her shoulders and arms, looking at her with those blue, affectionate eyes.

"Mhm!" She hummed, trying to sound as carefree as possible while plastering a smile on her face. But he didn't look convinced. Not at all.

He let his left hand travel up to her cheek, and he was about to say something. But when his palm touched her cheek, he flinched and removed his palm to see that it was damp.

"Steve-" She warned, but it was no idea. He had already raised his sleeve and laid his wrist over her forehead. And she couldn't protest because his wrist was oh so warm while she had been freezing and sweating cold ever since she entered the room.

"You're burning." It didn't feel like she was.

"Are you sick?" He asked, a frown on his face as she felt for her temperature. "Why haven't you said anything?"He scolded, and she shrunk into herself as his hands continued to investigate her. Until his hand came in contact with her wound. And she recoiled away from his hand, trying to get as far away from the pain as possible. Tears gathered in her eyes at the fire in her back, and she glued them shut as she tried to let it pass.

Steve brought his hand up to see when he felt something on the tips of his fingers, and his eyes widened in horror. There was a vermillion stain on his fingers, running down his hand. And (Name) saw both concern and panic as he looked down at her, as she was now leaning against his chest, too tired to stand on her own.

"I'm fine, promise." She said, lime on autopilot.

"We need to get you to a doctor." He insisted, about to take her under the knees and carry her there. But the second he tried to m, she leaned away.

And the guilt was there again. Steves tired but pretty face showed concern and panic, but she wasn't supposed to make him concerned and panic. As his partner, she was there to make him calm, happy, and satisfied. Sure, if Steve would hide a wound like this one from her, she would be livid. But that's hardly classed as the same thing.

"It's fine Steve, I'm sure I can get there me."

He scoffed and looked almost hurt.

"No, you're not going anywhere yourself. Not by how you're looking"

A protest lay prepared on the tip of her tongue, but she didn't get further than opening her mouth before a strong wave of nausea and dizziness washed over her body. And she swayed, once, twice, before her footing came undone, and she lost all sense of balance.

And it felt like she fell into a warm pillow, or perhaps she was just delirious. But it truly resembled a warm, fluffy pillow. And she snuggled into it, ignoring the distant calls of her (Name). And Steve's breath got caught in his throat when he saw her closing her eyes in his arms.

--

Steve was aware that something was nagging his lover's mind, and he had been aware of it during the last week. It was like she walked on eggshells around him and it bothered him. Because something bothered her. Something about him bothered her.

He hadn't done anything differently, not that he was aware of. He hadn't said anything either. And he liked to think that he had a great memory.

And he still couldn't figure out why she didn't tell him about her injury. Banner had told him that she was lucky that the infections in her wound hadn't reached any further. But Steve had a hard time seeing anything positive with the situation at all.

Duobts clouded his mind and made it hard to think straight. How could he know that she hadn't hidden other injuries that she could've gotten?

As if her mind was connected to his, as if she heard his self-deprecating thoughts, she came to her senses and let out a long and low groan, snapping Steve out of his head.

He quickly discarded his block and pencil to the side, leaving the drawing on the small table by the side before crouching down to her height.

"(Name)?" He dared to ask, and his heart felt lighter when he saw her eyelids twitch in response. A sigh left her dry lips before her eyelids slowly cracked open and presented themselves to Steve, giving him a confirmation that she was there with him.

"Steve." It came as a breath, her voice warm with love as she saw the familiar face.

As light as a feather, he let his fingertips ghost along her temples, repeating the momentum over and over again. Her eyelids relaxed, and Steve's back tensed as she once again closed her eyes. But (Name) could feel his muscle become rigid, and let her hand gently enclose steves wrist, running circles on his inner arm as comfort. As she always did.

"Why didn't you tell me?" An audible sigh sounded from her mouth, and for a moment Steve was afraid that he had annoyed her. But her fingertips were still dancing along the expense of his arm, and he let that comfort him. Although, she didn't provide him with an answer.

"You can trust me. I want you to trust me." He reassured her, and vulnerability spilled through his voice. He grabbed her other hand that rested on her stomach, entangling their fingers.

"I do trust you." She hoarsely whispered, throat dry and mouth like sandpaper.

But when she forced her eyes open, Steve looked at her, unconvinced.

"Then why? Why didn't you tell me that you were in pain?"

She wanted to bathe in the softness of his voice. Get nurtured by it, drink it, and stay by the sound to the end of time. The fondness, bonded with her worrying, guilty, and anxious emotions from before created bittersweet sparks under her skin. And it took form as a watery mist, covering her live full irises.

"I do trust you, but I don't want to be a nuisance to you." She painfully admitted and laid her hand on his cheek as a peace offering." You work so hard to succeed Steve, so hard that when you don't succeed, you become very tense. I don't want to be there to make you even tenser."

He shut his eyes tightly and nuzzled his cheek further into her palm, and a drop of water fell from his eye, rolling down his summer-tinted cheeks.

"Why are you crying?" Worry etched in her brows, but he only shook his head.

"I made you think that you would be a burden to me whenever I felt a negative emotion." She shook her head, already beginning her protest." A partner is not supposed to do that (Name)."

He leaned down and kissed her forehead. "I'm sorry."

"Steve, it was not on you. You didn't make me feel like a burden. I did. And I'm sorry for not telling you about my injury." She smiled sadly at him when he kissed her palm.

"I want to take care of you, and comfort you. I want to be that person to you, so let me be that the next time." And she could only nodd, her heart being free from the shackles of heavy emotions. Instead, she felt light as a feather.

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My requests are open;););;);)