1 one-shot: Theo/Tracey
Nov. 13th, 2007 03:25 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
amorphousTitle: Confrontation of a Loving Kind
Words: 1600
Rating: NC-17
Characters/Pairings: Theodore Nott/Tracey Davis
Warnings: It's not exactly PWP, but it is close I suppose.
Author's Notes: Thank you to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
curious_wolf for the beta. But this story is dedicated to Jess (jandjsalmon). I hope I wrote Tracey with justice!
Summary: After hearing rumors of Tracey's activity, Theo has to confront her.
Theodore Nott walked Diagon Alley, musing over the events he had heard about. It was not something he normally did, just thinking as he walked to nowhere. Not being able to face going home just yet, he kept walking. The street was full of wizards and witches of all races and ages running around happily carrying bags of purchases.
He walked into the Leaky Cauldron deciding to indulge in a drink before going home to deal with the situation that waited for him there. He ordered a simple Butterbeer, wanting something cheap that would be easy going down. Receiving dark and curious looks from the other customers and Tom the bartender, he sat there relishing in his drink for half an hour or so. He ignored them all, focusing on thinking up a plan for the evening. He knew he could not be impulsive and understanding going the conversation he was bound to have.
When he walked into the manor, the house elves greeted him happily, taking his cloak and telling him Mistress was upstairs in the bedroom. They were suggestive creatures and as annoying as hell.
Walking up the stairs slowly, he went over the plan he had formulated while savoring his drink. When he pushed open the bedroom door, he saw Tracey curled up on the bed, sleeping soundly as if she hadn't a care in the world. He knew she did; he hoped she did. The woman might act strong and unperturbed, but she was easily rattled, taking things personally.
She looked beautiful as she slept, he noted grimly. It made it harder for him to wake her and confront her. He knew he had to disturb her to, to get out the doubts that weighed on his chest heavily. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath for courage before he approached the bed. Each step closer to the bed was torture, making the sinking feeling in his stomach worse.
He lay down next to her, pulling her into his arms. She stirred, turning so she was facing him, a coy smile playing on her face as she continued to sleep. "Tracey?" he whispered softly, kissing her shoulder.
She opened her eyes slowly, finding his immediately. "Hi," she whispered, leaning forward to kiss him.
He backed away, keeping eye contact. "I need to talk to you about something," he said in a low voice. His voice was strained. Hating the fact his voice betrayed the tension, he continued softly, "Tracey, I heard that you were working for… for the people who were responsible for the deaths and danger." He wished, suddenly, that he had chosen his words more carefully.
Her green eyes widen but she didn't pull away. It was something he loved about her, her trust for him. He was coming to her harmlessly, confronting her without a hint of malice in his voice. It was like she understood he was merely seeking answers rather than accusing her of anything. There was only one thing he couldn't— wouldn't forgive, and he was sure she didn't have it in her anyway.
"Where did you hear that?" she asked in a whisper.
"Around. I'm not mad. I'm not accusing you, but Tracey, tell the truth."
She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. "I am working for them."
He nodded. "I only ask for one thing: please tell me you didn't kill anyone," he said softly, praying for the right answer, the only answer that would keep him in the bed with her, holding her.
Shaking her head fervently, she denied it. "I haven't killed anyone. I wouldn't kill anyone. Ever."
He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. "I believe you."
"I don't have it in me to kill," she whispered, her green eyes soft.
He nodded. "I knew that," he whispered, pulling her closer. "I knew that."
"Then why did you ask?" Her voice seemed somewhat hurt, but she wrapped her arms around him.
"I had to ask, Tracey. I had to know for sure. Death – Murder – Killing… it's the one thing I won't forgive," he said honestly, closing his eyes.
"I haven't killed anyone; I won't kill anyone." Her mouth moved to just by his ear, "I promise."
"I don't need to know anything else," he replied. "I'm not your keeper. You are a grown woman and can make your own decisions. But please, please don't end up in Azkaban."
He closed his eyes, inhaling her sweet womanly scent. He suddenly felt foolish for wasting time at the Leaky Cauldron before coming to confront her. The woman didn't wasn’t a fiber was not capable of murder. She just didn't. He knew that about her, but he supposed it didn't hurt to be reassured when he heard the rumors. He never once doubted they were true. She had been acting suspiciously for months and her time at the Ministry had increased rapidly.
"I love you," he whispered softly, opening his eyes and catching her gaze. "Don't forget that. I love you."
She smiled at him, her eyes soft and full of love. "The house elves will be pleased to know that," she informed him teasingly.
"Who the hell care what those annoying creatures think?" he teased back, knowing she was only mocking him about his dislike for her house elves that were found everywhere in the house.
Capturing her mouth, he kissed her, tasting her. Moving her arms to where they were wrapped around his neck, she deepened the kiss, pressing her body against his seductively. He reached up to cup her face in his hands, holding her head still has his mouth plundered hers.
Her hands dropped down, reaching the hem of his button down shift and tugging at it. He pulled back, chuckling. "The buttons work better, love," he suggested with a rakish grin. Her cheeks tinted a light pink as her hands moved between the bodies and began to unbutton the shirt. His shirt was discarded quickly, tossed behind her unto the floor. Claiming her mouth again, he kissed her passionately again, opening his mouth over hers and letting her tongue sweep in.
Her hands moved down to fumblingly undoing his trousers. Realizing she was still fully dressed in her sundress, he pulled away, reaching down and grabbing the bottom of the dress. Pulling it over her head, he kicked off his trousers at the same time, leaving him in his boxers and her in her bra and knickers. He drank in the beautiful sight. She was simple gorgeous.
Pulling her body under his, he skimmed his mouth over the exposed top part of her breasts, leaving a trail of hot fire in its wake. "You're beautiful," he murmured as he reached behind her and unclasped her bra, removing it deftly to leave her breasts bare.
He kissed a path to her nipples, beginning to suck and nip them as she arched up toward him, moaning. His hands moved down to pull off her knickers while his lips still suckled her breasts, loving the sounds she made.
Once her knickers were gone, his mouth trailed downward, past her stomach where he dipped his tongue in her navel and then lower.
"Now," she gasped above him. "Now."
He knew what she was requesting and felt slightly disappointed he wouldn't be able to taste her moisture. But he obliged her request, rocking back and settling himself between his spread legs. He stared down at her beauty; the view made his blood pump faster and harder in his veins.
Moving slowly, he lifted her hips and thrust into her. It was an amazing feeling. One feeling he could never get used to; she was warm and moist around him. Her wet sheath clenched around his erection, sending pleasure through his body. He pulled out her then thrust back in slowly.
Reaching between their bodies, his finger entered her warmth, searching for the bundle of nerves that would have her falling apart in his arms. Drawing quick circles on her sensitive spot, she began to moan loudly; her breathing becoming rapid and shallow as his ministrations created a spiral of pleasure within her body.
Within a moment, she was withering beneath him, tightening around him and making it impossible for him to hold back. He came inside her with her muscles clenching around him and milking him for all he was worth.
He collapsed on top of her, putting out his hands to take his weight instead of crushing her. She wrapped her arms around him, holding their bodies together as she breathed fast and hard into his ear. He loved seeing her come, loved the exquisite look of pleasure and beauty on her face as her body was claimed by an overwhelming bliss that he had caused for her.
"Theo," she whispered into his ear.
He rolled off her, taking her with him so she was draped over him like a blanket. "Yes, love?"
"I love you," she said, laying her head on his chest and closing her eyes.
She always fell asleep after sex; it was endearing to him, making her all the more irresistible. "Sweet dreams," he told her, kissing her forehead.
He found it amusing that even for a moment he thought that the woman in his arms, the woman that shared his bed might be a murderer. Tracey could never hurt anyone; she was too kind and gently, too giving and loving. "I love you," he murmured against her forehead before kissing it again and closing his own eyes for the sleep that was inevitable after making love with such passion as it had been.
Words: 1600
Rating: NC-17
Characters/Pairings: Theodore Nott/Tracey Davis
Warnings: It's not exactly PWP, but it is close I suppose.
Author's Notes: Thank you to
curious_wolf for the beta. But this story is dedicated to Jess (jandjsalmon). I hope I wrote Tracey with justice!Summary: After hearing rumors of Tracey's activity, Theo has to confront her.
Theodore Nott walked Diagon Alley, musing over the events he had heard about. It was not something he normally did, just thinking as he walked to nowhere. Not being able to face going home just yet, he kept walking. The street was full of wizards and witches of all races and ages running around happily carrying bags of purchases.
He walked into the Leaky Cauldron deciding to indulge in a drink before going home to deal with the situation that waited for him there. He ordered a simple Butterbeer, wanting something cheap that would be easy going down. Receiving dark and curious looks from the other customers and Tom the bartender, he sat there relishing in his drink for half an hour or so. He ignored them all, focusing on thinking up a plan for the evening. He knew he could not be impulsive and understanding going the conversation he was bound to have.
When he walked into the manor, the house elves greeted him happily, taking his cloak and telling him Mistress was upstairs in the bedroom. They were suggestive creatures and as annoying as hell.
Walking up the stairs slowly, he went over the plan he had formulated while savoring his drink. When he pushed open the bedroom door, he saw Tracey curled up on the bed, sleeping soundly as if she hadn't a care in the world. He knew she did; he hoped she did. The woman might act strong and unperturbed, but she was easily rattled, taking things personally.
She looked beautiful as she slept, he noted grimly. It made it harder for him to wake her and confront her. He knew he had to disturb her to, to get out the doubts that weighed on his chest heavily. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath for courage before he approached the bed. Each step closer to the bed was torture, making the sinking feeling in his stomach worse.
He lay down next to her, pulling her into his arms. She stirred, turning so she was facing him, a coy smile playing on her face as she continued to sleep. "Tracey?" he whispered softly, kissing her shoulder.
She opened her eyes slowly, finding his immediately. "Hi," she whispered, leaning forward to kiss him.
He backed away, keeping eye contact. "I need to talk to you about something," he said in a low voice. His voice was strained. Hating the fact his voice betrayed the tension, he continued softly, "Tracey, I heard that you were working for… for the people who were responsible for the deaths and danger." He wished, suddenly, that he had chosen his words more carefully.
Her green eyes widen but she didn't pull away. It was something he loved about her, her trust for him. He was coming to her harmlessly, confronting her without a hint of malice in his voice. It was like she understood he was merely seeking answers rather than accusing her of anything. There was only one thing he couldn't— wouldn't forgive, and he was sure she didn't have it in her anyway.
"Where did you hear that?" she asked in a whisper.
"Around. I'm not mad. I'm not accusing you, but Tracey, tell the truth."
She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. "I am working for them."
He nodded. "I only ask for one thing: please tell me you didn't kill anyone," he said softly, praying for the right answer, the only answer that would keep him in the bed with her, holding her.
Shaking her head fervently, she denied it. "I haven't killed anyone. I wouldn't kill anyone. Ever."
He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. "I believe you."
"I don't have it in me to kill," she whispered, her green eyes soft.
He nodded. "I knew that," he whispered, pulling her closer. "I knew that."
"Then why did you ask?" Her voice seemed somewhat hurt, but she wrapped her arms around him.
"I had to ask, Tracey. I had to know for sure. Death – Murder – Killing… it's the one thing I won't forgive," he said honestly, closing his eyes.
"I haven't killed anyone; I won't kill anyone." Her mouth moved to just by his ear, "I promise."
"I don't need to know anything else," he replied. "I'm not your keeper. You are a grown woman and can make your own decisions. But please, please don't end up in Azkaban."
He closed his eyes, inhaling her sweet womanly scent. He suddenly felt foolish for wasting time at the Leaky Cauldron before coming to confront her. The woman didn't wasn’t a fiber was not capable of murder. She just didn't. He knew that about her, but he supposed it didn't hurt to be reassured when he heard the rumors. He never once doubted they were true. She had been acting suspiciously for months and her time at the Ministry had increased rapidly.
"I love you," he whispered softly, opening his eyes and catching her gaze. "Don't forget that. I love you."
She smiled at him, her eyes soft and full of love. "The house elves will be pleased to know that," she informed him teasingly.
"Who the hell care what those annoying creatures think?" he teased back, knowing she was only mocking him about his dislike for her house elves that were found everywhere in the house.
Capturing her mouth, he kissed her, tasting her. Moving her arms to where they were wrapped around his neck, she deepened the kiss, pressing her body against his seductively. He reached up to cup her face in his hands, holding her head still has his mouth plundered hers.
Her hands dropped down, reaching the hem of his button down shift and tugging at it. He pulled back, chuckling. "The buttons work better, love," he suggested with a rakish grin. Her cheeks tinted a light pink as her hands moved between the bodies and began to unbutton the shirt. His shirt was discarded quickly, tossed behind her unto the floor. Claiming her mouth again, he kissed her passionately again, opening his mouth over hers and letting her tongue sweep in.
Her hands moved down to fumblingly undoing his trousers. Realizing she was still fully dressed in her sundress, he pulled away, reaching down and grabbing the bottom of the dress. Pulling it over her head, he kicked off his trousers at the same time, leaving him in his boxers and her in her bra and knickers. He drank in the beautiful sight. She was simple gorgeous.
Pulling her body under his, he skimmed his mouth over the exposed top part of her breasts, leaving a trail of hot fire in its wake. "You're beautiful," he murmured as he reached behind her and unclasped her bra, removing it deftly to leave her breasts bare.
He kissed a path to her nipples, beginning to suck and nip them as she arched up toward him, moaning. His hands moved down to pull off her knickers while his lips still suckled her breasts, loving the sounds she made.
Once her knickers were gone, his mouth trailed downward, past her stomach where he dipped his tongue in her navel and then lower.
"Now," she gasped above him. "Now."
He knew what she was requesting and felt slightly disappointed he wouldn't be able to taste her moisture. But he obliged her request, rocking back and settling himself between his spread legs. He stared down at her beauty; the view made his blood pump faster and harder in his veins.
Moving slowly, he lifted her hips and thrust into her. It was an amazing feeling. One feeling he could never get used to; she was warm and moist around him. Her wet sheath clenched around his erection, sending pleasure through his body. He pulled out her then thrust back in slowly.
Reaching between their bodies, his finger entered her warmth, searching for the bundle of nerves that would have her falling apart in his arms. Drawing quick circles on her sensitive spot, she began to moan loudly; her breathing becoming rapid and shallow as his ministrations created a spiral of pleasure within her body.
Within a moment, she was withering beneath him, tightening around him and making it impossible for him to hold back. He came inside her with her muscles clenching around him and milking him for all he was worth.
He collapsed on top of her, putting out his hands to take his weight instead of crushing her. She wrapped her arms around him, holding their bodies together as she breathed fast and hard into his ear. He loved seeing her come, loved the exquisite look of pleasure and beauty on her face as her body was claimed by an overwhelming bliss that he had caused for her.
"Theo," she whispered into his ear.
He rolled off her, taking her with him so she was draped over him like a blanket. "Yes, love?"
"I love you," she said, laying her head on his chest and closing her eyes.
She always fell asleep after sex; it was endearing to him, making her all the more irresistible. "Sweet dreams," he told her, kissing her forehead.
He found it amusing that even for a moment he thought that the woman in his arms, the woman that shared his bed might be a murderer. Tracey could never hurt anyone; she was too kind and gently, too giving and loving. "I love you," he murmured against her forehead before kissing it again and closing his own eyes for the sleep that was inevitable after making love with such passion as it had been.
no subject
Date: 2007-11-13 08:34 pm (UTC)There are no words. None. *claps mightily*
He loves her anyway... despite her taking up with crazy extremists. YAY for Theo! I love him! ;)
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