spicyandplain - Tumblr blog

spicyandplain · 2 months

Text

Lucifer (Hazbin Hotel) X Male-Reader - Sinless Sinners - Chapter 5

Chapter 5 - Stories and Dolls

A/N – Okay, so I just quit my job and I’m freefalling right now. Time to channel my anxiety into fanfiction. Also, this chapter is darker so I’m raising the rating to M.

Warnings – MENTIONS OF RAPE, S/A, ABUSE, KIDNAPPING, AND TORTURE.

Rating – M

TAG-LIST: @lxkeee @moonieper @sle3pyh3ad2 @gomib0 @mixplara @ica1

FEMALE VERSION HERE

GN VERSION HERE

Lucifer had to admit, he was getting used to you. He enjoyed making breakfast a show in the morning, entertaining you with his parlour tricks and general showmanship. You were like a child, easily amused by flashing lights or some sleight of hand.

And of a night, he also found your company less than objectionable, whether you were reading a book in the library with Spick and Span curled up at your feet, in front of a roaring fire (you had conjured them medallions with their names on them, so as to tell them apart), or those nights when you came back from visiting the hotel and regaled him with the tales of its inhabitants. Lucifer was starting to like Angel Dust, even if he didn’t believe the porn star actually had a chance at redemption. Nifty also seemed entertaining, Husk could be a source of wisdom and comfort in equal measure, and Alastair… Well, he was there too, taking up too much of your attention.

Yet, despite his newfound almost-friendship with you, he couldn’t help thinking about what you had said on your first night in the manor.

‘You don’t even know why I’m down here, and you don’t want to know, right? ‘Cos all of us filthy Sinners must be the same.’

You were right. He didn’t know why you were there, and that was driving him crazy. He wanted to like you. Truly, he did. But how could he like you when he didn’t know your sin? People got sent to Hell for a reason! They wasted their free will. They sold drugs to kids, murdered people, trafficked victims, tricked and swindled others. For all Lucifer knew, you were there for drowning puppies.

The thought made him deeply uncomfortable.

Okay. He would ask you about it. No big deal. People probably talked about why they went to Hell a lot right? That was a normal conversation for Sinners, probably…

Lucifer wasn’t entirely wrong in thinking that. However, nearly all Sinners lied about what they went to Hell for, making it even more brutal or horrifying to try and earn some extra credit among their fellow Demons. Someone who had killed one person would claim to have been a serial killer. A low-life drug dealer would paint themselves as a mafioso with a drug empire, and arsonists… They didn’t have to lie much, as fires tended to spread quickly and they generally were as psychotic as they claimed to be.

It was all basic self-preservation in Hell. Be the toughest person there, so nobody could find new ways to hurt you. Kill or be killed (figuratively, since Demons couldn’t technically kill other Demons), sink or swim, do unto others before they did unto you.

Right. When Lucifer next saw you, he would ask.

“Hey Lucifer,” You said upon returning to the manor from the Hotel, “You doing okay?”

Lucifer froze. He hadn’t expected to see you so soon. Fuck.

“Hey bitch,” Lucifer greeted, feeling entirely awkward, yet trying to feign confidence.

“Uh… Back at ya,” You reciprocated confusedly.

“Sooooo,” Lucifer started, steepling his fingers together, and holding them to his mouth, his brow knitting together worriedly, “I have a question for you.”

“Oh.” You were surprised by Lucifer’s admission. While the two of you generally made conversation, he didn’t tend to ask too much. Besides, in the preface of announcing his question, it seemed that he was likely to ask you something personal.

You waved your hand casually, indicating that he was free to ask away.

“How- Uh how was everything at the Hotel? Is my little girl doing okay?”

As you smiled and fell into a description of how Charlie was doing and her general excitement about her meeting with Heaven, Lucifer cursed himself. He knew that what he wanted to ask was important, but it was just so personal. Well, at least he was happy to hear about his daughter. There were also some other colourful stories included in your conversation.

Finally, you wrapped up the conversation, effectively ending it when you casually said, “Anyway, I’m going to get ready for bed. I’m real tired, you know?”

Lucifer didn’t say much as you left, he was still pondering whether you might be a puppy killer or relative and accomplice to that Jeffrey Dahmer fellow, or something equally disturbing. If not… Why were you there?

Having gotten ready for bed, you sighed, letting the day’s events wash over you, lifting a weight off your shoulders. You were tired, but the day had been a good productive one. Moreover, it was nice to end the day by standing out on the balcony, overlooking the rest of Hell.

There was a time when you had died, during which you stood atop a building in the main streets watching all the fights, looting, and maiming, and you were horrified. Then, you met Charlie, and she had been so wonderfully pure, good, and non-judgemental that you had to agree with her. Hell could be a home to you, and all the other Sinners who lived there, and Sinners could always change for the better.

While you held onto the balcony railing, leaning over it, and staring at the red horizon, Lucifer approached your open door at the entrance of your room, knocking despite the open invitation to come in.

You turned and smiled at him, your smile putting him at ease.

“Come in,” You offered.

He did so, crossing the large room and taking quick mental notes of the changes you had made. They were minor, but they spoke of your personality. You had lit scented candles, brightening the room – the official scent name was Tapioca Tit-play.

Subconsciously, Lucifer worked his magic to remove the off-smell that he had placed there; it was redundant when your candles covered it, and he didn’t mind your company so much anymore.

He also observed several other items. There was a photograph of everyone at the Hotel, though you had drawn Alastor on the end in crayon since he didn’t love to be captured in photographs (he could bear it unlike being filmed, but he didn’t care much for it.)

Wrapped around your bedposts were nightlights to keep out the dark. On your bed, you had a teddy of one of Sir Pentious’ egg-bois, a gift from him. Husk had gifted you with a bottle of his best Whiskey, though it remained unopened on the nightstand. There was a cockroach/daisy hybrid necklace wrapped around a book. The candles were from Angel Dust. Beneath your pillow was a dagger, gifted by Vaggie, for your protection. Alastor had given you a collection of books from the store in Cannibal Town, including several that were rumoured to have been stolen from Heaven’s library, though nobody was certain where that rumour started or if it was even true, though there were no copies of the books anywhere else in Hell.

Although Lucifer had no way of knowing these items were all presents from your friends at the Hazbin Hotel, he could tell that you cared deeply for the odd assortment by their placement on the two bedside tables; they had been positioned with care, and were well looked after.

Then, his eye caught the rubber duck, slightly hidden behind the picture frame. He remembered making that one. As a hellhound imitation, it was meant to teleport to whoever needed it most inside the Manor, offering protection should they come under attack. Naturally, he and his family didn’t need such protection, but he had been experimenting with what powers he might imbue unto yet another duck.

He decided not to mention it as he joined you on the balcony, looking you over in your pyjamas.

You also spared him a glance, noting that he seemed more relaxed. Although he was still in his usual attire, he had removed his top-hat-crown and his overcoat, revealing the waistcoat and shirt beneath; the sleeves were rolled up, giving him a more casual appearance.

“Hell’s skies are beautiful, aren’t they,” You stated, returning your gaze to the horizon.

Lucifer looked up, but all he saw was Heaven, the home that didn’t want him.

“(Y/N),” He started, forcing himself to look down, so he wouldn’t have to stare at the painfully beautiful golden glow above.

“Hm?”

“How did you end up here?”

Your grip tightened on the railing drawing Lucifer’s gaze to the whites of your knuckles.

Your whole body became tense and you answered with a ragged breath, “I died.”

“Yes but-” Lucifer was about to lead into the question of your sins, but you spoke up again, seemingly misunderstanding the question as you continued, tears forming at the corners of your eyes.

“I was- I was murdered.”

Lucifer could have explained that the cause of your death wasn’t what he had been driving at, but now he was darkly fascinated. If you were the same kind-hearted, warm person in life, why would anyone wish to bring about your death?

He remained silent as you began recounting the manner in which you had been killed.

“I had a friend,” You started slowly, taking steady breaths between each part of the story that followed as if it would make it any easier. “I mean- I- I thought he was my friend. I loved him. He knew that. He counted on it.”

“I thought that he travelled for work. That’s what he told me. It’s why he was always coming and going. But no… He was just looking for more people like me. He found people. Made us fall for him. Then he- he took me out on a date. Blindfolded me. Said it was a surprise. I- I trusted him, but the blindfold just made it easier for him to- He knocked me out.”

You subconsciously touched the back of your head, remembering the blow that had come with no warning.

Lucifer turned to you, one hand holding onto the railing, the other planted firmly at his side.

“Did he-” He started to ask.

You shook your head. “It wasn’t rape. It was worse.”

You shivered, waiting until you were certain you weren’t going to vomit. Then you continued, your skin ashy.

“I woke up in a- It was like a cinderblock cell, but it had been sort of decorated to look like a fancy suite?”

You recalled the room. It was damp, and the floor was cheaply produced concrete, given away by the amount of air bubbles which had never been levelled and now pocked the surface, like a teenager with bad acne. The cinderblock walls were easy to see, though some talented artist had been paid to paint it with the likeness of the Ritz hotel or somewhere equally fancy. While that had made it look better, it was still clearly a cinderblock wall; then again, you can’t polish a turd, but you can roll it in glitter.

You had been handcuffed to a chair in the centre of the room. Your clothes had been taken, and you had been dressed in a skimpy shortened tuxedo, with a fitted vest instead of a jacket. You remembered screaming till your voice was raw. You screamed so much that you ended up spitting flecks of blood, but nobody came to save you.

“I- I was tied up,” You said simply, downplaying the memory to Lucifer, more for your own sake than his, though he could see the pain behind your eyes.

Lucifer didn’t interrupt your story, but his anger was growing. Behind him his tail lashed furiously, his eyes became flaming red, and his fangs became sharper. You hadn’t noticed, you were lost in memory, and you had yet to look his way since beginning your story.

You sighed, thinking of the torture, humiliation, and suffering which followed, all at the hands of one man. It wasn’t your captor. It was who he had sold you to.

“It- I was- They were making snuff films. I don’t know how many people died there before or after me but- I was sold to an American. He- He liked to cut things. It was a while before- I don’t know if I bled out, or if my heart stopped, maybe both?”

For the first time, your skin changed colour, turning from your regular human shade to a pale seaweed-green. Against the colourful backdrop, Lucifer could see your now blinding white glowing scars. Upon your death they remained hidden, completely invisible, but now you were distressed… You seemingly did have something of a Demonic appearance after all.

You were a ragdoll.

There wasn’t a part of your body that hadn’t been cut, or originally sliced off, only to be repaired in death. In all likelihood, your real body was probably burned, buried, or dissolved in acid. In Hell, your scars were the stitches that held your body together. Lucifer now understood your human appearance since like a real ragdoll, you were good at playing dress-up. He bet that if you explored your abilities, you would have been able to look like anyone, a skin-changer, but you had adopted your appearance in life; it was likely an accident caused by the trauma of your memories.

“(Y/N),” Lucifer said through gritted teeth. He wanted to be comforting, but he was already thinking of all the ways he would punish your killer and any accomplice he may have had. There were worse things than Death in hell; he would torture those bastards for eternity, and then when he finally grew bored, he would end them with angelic weaponry, wiping their souls from existence, leaving no trace of such monsters.

You didn’t turn to face your King, who was now in his full Demonic form, his rage at its peak.

“Just go,” You murmured despondently, staring over the balcony, and down to the ground. A long drop and a short stop… It was a shame it wouldn’t kill you; at least the pain would end if you died.

“But-” Lucifer reached you to put a hand on your shoulder, his wings almost curling around you as if to envelop you.

“I- I would like to be alone. Please.”

Lucifer hesitantly withdrew his hand, “I’m sorry.”

That was all he said before walking away, leaving you alone.

You wished that you could have been left to wallow, but your phone soon buzzed and you opted to check it in case it was an emergency.

Retrieving it from the bed, you found a message from Charlie.

“EMERGENCY. ANGEL DUST. RELAPSE. GET OVER HERE. PLEASE!”

Damn it! If Charlie was texting you for this, it meant that Husk was either the cause or he wasn’t around to be the solution. Moreover, while Charlie would want to assist her friend, she was likely the last person Angel Dust wanted to see; sometimes, though she was well-intentioned, she just didn’t understand such issues or she could be a bit much.

Still stuck in your ragdoll body, you ran back to the balcony and vaulted over the edge. It wasn’t a smooth landing, and it hurt a lot. Anyone else would have broken their bones, but when you were like this, there wasn’t anything else that could be broken. Everything had already been torn off you. Ignoring the pain, you ran until you found a taxi. You took it to the Hotel.

160 notes · View notes

spicyandplain · 3 months

Text

This is simply mwah

Lucifer (Hazbin Hotel) X Male-Reader - Sinless Sinners - Chapter 4

Chapter 4 - Hell's Assumptions

A/N – Okay, I think that’s everyone on the tagging list. So, here’s to Chapter 4. Raise a glass.

Warnings – None.

Rating – T

FEMALE VERSION HERE

GN VERSION HERE

TAG LIST: @lxkeeeee @moonieper

People were staring.

The worst part was, you weren’t sure who they were staring at, you or Lucifer. It could have easily been him since he was the King of Hell, and even those who didn’t immediately recognise him could sense the power he exuded. However, it was just as likely that they were looking at you and wondering who you were, and how you had managed to get their ruler to walk with you, especially since he wasn’t known for going out much.

Fortunately, when people saw Lucifer coming, they moved to the other side of the street, staring, whispering, taking pictures, but keeping a safe distance.

Lucifer was used to this kind of thing. He walked confidently, held a charming smile, and was generally non-plussed by the attention. You, on the other hand, felt awkward.

‘This was my idea,’ You mentally reminded yourself.

You tried to hold onto that thought as you attempted to strike up a conversation.

“So… What’s it like in the Embassy building?” You asked, quickly realising that it was a terrible topic as Lucifer’s smile became a glower.

You shouldn’t have reminded him where he was going. It was obvious he hated Heaven for their treatment of him, yet yearned for it and the life he had lost within its pearly gates where nothing went wrong for anyone.

“Sorry,” You said hurriedly. “I didn’t think- uh, nice weather we’re having?”

Lucifer smiled and shook his head. He couldn’t believe you. Only the night before, you had told him to grow up, with such confidence, and now here you were struggling for words. He bypassed the awkward situation with ease by asking, “Will you be visiting the Hotel today?”

“Oh, uh… Maybe. I would like to see everyone again. Check that Nifty hasn’t set anything on fire. Make sure that everything’s okay, and-”

You had been about to mention Angel Dust. Today was one of his work days. You would like to check that he was okay. You didn’t mention him however, with something like a confidentiality clause stopping you, though you weren’t his doctor, nor was he your patient. You didn’t want to talk about his suffering; he was more than his trauma.

Instead, you said, “I would like to check in, but maybe not today. Besides, you’ll be there tonight, won’t you?”

“Yes. I’d like to deliver the news to Charlie personally, and perhaps coach her on some of Heaven’s stricter rules.”

“Then, I think I’ll stay at the manor. I wouldn’t want to step on your toes. You and Charlie- I think you need to catch up a bit, without any interruptions. She missed you, you know.”

Lucifer ruminated on this for a minute. Whatever your motivations, he was glad that you were giving him and his daughter some space. Granted, the Hotel was large enough to house many conversations in separate areas but by making the offer of keeping your distance, you were giving Lucifer some breathing room; that was good.

Had you not made that offer, Lucifer might have brought up the topic of moving you back into the Hotel to Charlie, but in respecting his boundaries, Lucifer was starting to think that you weren’t so bad… for a Sinner.

“I missed her too.”

“Can I ask,” You said hesitantly, “What kept you away so long? You clearly think the world of her.”

Lucifer sighed, and stopped in the middle of the street, “I-”

He didn’t get to explain his absence.

Instead, he became annoyed as two Sinners, one who looked like a nine-year-old boy’s dream with bazooka arms and rocket-infused shoulders, and the other a winged bear-woman wielding a machine gun burst through the building on the opposite side of the road, waging war upon one another.

“SHIT!” You cursed, seeing the debris that threatened to crush a lone imp who hadn’t reacted quickly enough, his leg trapped under the first brick segment that fell.

Reacting quickly, you threw out your arms. A light green barrier shielded the imp from further harm, but you struggled under the weight of so much wreckage.

“MOXXIE!” A female imp yelled, running to him.

You thought she might struggle to lift the wreckage off him and were about to ask for Lucifer’s help before your barrier would inevitably crumble. Yet, the female imp was stronger than she appeared and she threw it off Moxxie. She then lifted him bridal style, and ran from the danger, shooting you a grateful look from across the street.

You gasped and shuddered as you let your arms fall, your barrier fading from existence.

“You shouldn’t have bothered,” Lucifer said as you straightened up.

“What?” You breathed heavily, recovering from the exertion; one of the weakest Demons in Hell, with your limited abilities.

“It was a nice thing to do, but what’s the point? Look around,” Lucifer threw his arms up dramatically. “Someone built something nice, and now it’s gone, all because two Sinners couldn’t take their petty power struggle somewhere else. Nobody benefits from this.”

You opened your mouth to argue but were interrupted by the same two imps you had just saved, “Hey there, I’m pretty sure my husband is delirious right now, but he wanted to come over here.”

“I’m not delirious, Millie,” Moxxie said pointedly, clinging onto her shoulder to support his weight; his leg was in all likeliness broken, but being an imp of Hell, it would heal quickly enough.

Millie looked at him sympathetically, likely thinking something along the lines of, ‘Baby, we’re the only ones on the same side of the street as His Majesty, but do what you gotta do!’

“I must thank you most humbly for your remarkable rescue in my name, good fellow,” Moxxie exclaimed pompously, probably presuming that since you were accompanied by Lucifer you were of a much higher station than you were. “Without you, I would certainly have perished, so I find it an appropriate time to extend my gratitude.”

“He means thank you,” Millie affectionately translated.

“You’re welcome,” You smiled. Then, with a small flourish of your fingers, Moxxie leg was bandaged and he was provided with a crutch to hold onto. You were no healer, but that would help the bone set correctly.

Moxxie and Millie thanked you both again, presuming that Lucifer had been part of the rescue (and in a way he was, for when the warring Demons saw him, they took their battle elsewhere), then they were gone, one limping down the street on his new crutch, and his wife offering to carry him.

“You’re wrong,” You said, once the pair were out of sight. “They benefitted.”

Lucifer didn’t know what to say about that. They were only imps. Why did you think they mattered? Yet, after watching the loving couple thank you for their rescue, Lucifer wasn’t certain that he trusted his assessment of the situation. Charlie wanted to redeem Sinners, you had just saved the lowest of all Hell’s beings and he…? He needed to reassess how he thought about things.

The two of you didn’t speak after that and Lucifer assumed that you were mad at him until you reached Heaven’s Embassy. Lucifer stared at the building, broken and hopeless, thinking about how he would have to fight for Charlie.

He was about to take the first step towards it when you rested your hand on his shoulder.

He stared at you, surprised.

“Good luck,” You proffered sympathetically. Then you walked away, and Lucifer was left staring after you. So, you weren’t mad at him after all. What a curious person you were.

He looked back to the building before him, the one place in Hell that was perfectly pristine, and unable to be harmed by anyone. After a deep breath, he headed inside.

When Lucifer returned home, he was exhausted. The meeting had been lengthy and derogatory. He had been treated with barely disguised disdain and talked in circles, but finally, Heaven had agreed to allow his daughter passage to Heaven.

It was never an option really. As the ruler of a powerful realm, Lucifer had to be treated respectfully, even if all of Heaven hated him. Yet, just because they had to acquiesce to his request didn’t mean they hadn’t tried to talk him out of it. The only good news was that it had been Sera and a few of her assistants who hosted the meeting, not that ignorant prick Adam; Lucifer hated that guy… though his taste in women had always been spectacular.

Still, it had all been worth it when he got to the hotel and Charlie thanked him and invited him to stay for a while. They had caught up over tea, and he had gotten to know a little bit more about her and her relationship with Vaggie. Lucifer likely would have stayed longer seeing as he’d also been invited to games night, but then that red-headed bastard was there, grinning like a Cheshire Cat, and Lucifer had made his reasons to leave.

Now, all he wanted was to recover in peace.

On his way upstairs, he heard the long-neglected TV blaring in one of the living rooms. Feeling somewhat guilty about his unsupportive attitude towards you earlier, he decided it would probably be good for him to make amends and apologise. So, before isolating himself for the evening, he sought you out.

You were hunched on the sofa, watching 666 News, and grimacing at the new headline, King of Hell’s New Fuckbuddy.

Lucifer stood quietly behind you, watching as Katie Killjoy reported, “While Hell will be royally fucked by the impending extermination it seems that King of Hell Lucifer is being royally fucked by his new bimbo bitch, seen walking with him today on the streets of Pentagram City.”

Security camera footage of you and Lucifer from earlier filled the screen for a minute before returning to the hosts.

“Who is this Sinner? Does Lucifer get off on Angelic clothing? We hope to find out more soon. Over to you, Tom.”

Tom Trench continued the report, much less assuredly than his co-anchor, “Nobody can say for certain they’re together. Some speculate the Demon to be his highness’ new assistant or-”

Katie clutched Tom’s neck in one hand, never looking away from the camera as she cut off his air supply, “Nobody gives a shit about your limp-dick opinion Tom. We’re all here to speculate about who’s raw-dogging who. Now, onto our cooking segment, It’s Dahm Good, with host Jeffrey who is making a delicious spleen soufflé. Jeffrey-”

“HA!” Lucifer laughed, pointing at the TV.

“Shit!” You yelped, lurching forward, having not known he’d returned home. You turned the TV off and stood to face Lucifer.

He was doubled over and wheezing at the idea that you and he would ever be together.

“Well, at least you’re not upset about this,” You grinned, finding his good mood contagious.

“What morons. They’re always just there, assuming the weirdest shit whenever I go out,” He laughed.

“Yeah? So, it’s okay people know we’re friends?”

Lucifer straightened up with a smile. So, you classed him as a friend? He didn’t confirm or deny your assumption of friendship. He waved his hand, unbothered, “Let them think what they want to think. It’s Hell, nothing matters. Besides, 666 News is trash.”

“Yeah, you’re right. So, how did the meeting with Heaven go? Did they agree to meet with Charlie?”

Lucifer sobered up slightly, though he didn’t seem as upset as he was earlier when Heaven was mentioned, “Yes. The meeting’s in a week. Charlie is- She’s optimistic.”

“And you?”

“I- My girl can handle it.”

“Yeah, she can.”

And so it was that you and Lucifer started to find some common ground, that slowly built the gap from two people who barely knew one another, towards friends.

206 notes · View notes

spicyandplain · 2 years

Note

Hiya! can you write a m draco malfoy x m! reader where the r is like a full blown death eater and one of the dark lords most loyal followers and basically draco is just really attracted to him, if u feel comfortable could u do it where like the r is mean to the golden trio and makes it quite obvious he’s a death eater w the dark mark! (sorry this is a lot haha)

Possession:

✰ Synopsis ... [Name] becomes aware that the Golden Trio are hunting Draco, and intervenes. Draco is nosy and listens to it the whole time. ✰ Pairing ... Draco Malfoy and Male Reader ✰ Author Note...This is great, As my first request i really hope you enjoy :) I got ahead of myself and started writing a whole freaking backstory -- i need to find a book about this now.

“I don’t know Ron. But who is usually the cause of things like this?” The red head rubbed his freckled hands together, warming them as he thought. “ I dunno, a lot of things go wrong ‘round ‘ere, Harry.” The raven sighs, shaking his head in exasperation. “Malfoy, Ron. He has to be behind it.” Ron ‘ahh’d’ in understanding. “You think so?”

The two walked back towards the Great Hall. “Definitely. He’s acting worse than usual this year.” Harry pushes his glasses up his nose, emerald eyes hard.

Behind an alcove, [Name] scowls as he watches the two walk away. The sixth year Gryffindors were always digging their noses into things that, in his opinion, did not concern them. Of course one might argue otherwise, but to be honest, [Name] had no care for the ‘boy who lived’. He had more important things to worry about, to do and think of.

Like the Dark Lord.

The mark on his arm itched, and the boy smiled to himself. Despite his calm and somewhat boring demeanour, he was a part of something bigger than him. Bigger than anyone. He was overlooked and for that reason amongst others he was a formidable asset for his Lord. The Dark Lord needed his eyes, lurking where no one could suspect. He was Head Boy after all, who would ever think of him first?

[Name’s] dark [colour] eyes drifted down the corridor, watching as the two teenagers vanished behind large oak doors. He quickly made his way back down to the dungeons, sliding between the grubby bricks to enter the Slytherin common room. He wouldn’t stand a threat to his own. Especially not this year, not now. His eyes flicked over the pale blonde sitting by the fire, laughing boisterously with a pig faced girl and dark skinned male. His gaze never wavered, watching as pale skin wrinkled around Draco’s eyes when he smiled. Really smiled. Something that wasn’t shown outside this room. Even then it was rare to see this year.

He would never let anything happen to that boy, the White Rabbit he swore to protect.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

The smell of old books and dust curled its way up Draco’s nose, irritating him. He leaned amongst the shelves while Pansy pressed herself into his side, both spying on the trio sitting at the tables. The Library wasn’t naturally a place the blonde would ever be caught in, but today was an exception. He was hoping he would get information from the group's hushed conversation, however so far his mission was fruitless – not to mention his back was starting to ache, after hunching over for so long. His tall frame was not helpful when he had to sneak around.

He wished to return home, to his loving mothers embrace, sometimes he’d rather slip out into the Forbidden Forest instead. He was so unbearably tired, and spying on the three gits by the tables was not his idea of ‘fun’. Pansy quickly shut down his whining when he said as much, pointing towards where a group was making their way over. Three Slytherins, all recognisable to the two behind the shelves, smiled cooly as they walked towards the study area. Draco’s heart picked up as he noticed the [colour] haired boy leading them. [Name] [Last Name], loyal to The Dark Lord and one of his most trusted and loyal. He stood straight, [colour] skin glowing in the candlelight, and the blonde's breath faltered as it left his body in a sigh. He couldn’t put into words how much he felt for this boy, how much he idolised him, and worshipped the ground he walked on. Most people he met scared or disgusted him. Not [Name].

The two behind him wore timid smiles, disguising the glares they were throwing left and right. Darius Rikbone and Marina Cornet - Two Death Eaters and members of [Name’s] circle. They were on the hunt, and Draco was snickering into his palm as the group stopped in front of Potter, Weasley and Granger. Pansy was fighting back giggles beside him, eyes cruelly gazing as they waited for the threats and insults no doubt waiting to be would be spewed. Seeing the Head Boy and his lackeys - Slytherins no less - looking for the Golden trio themselves was something worthy of celebration to the two. The excitement for a punishment second to only a professor was a miracle to witness when bestowed on a Gryffindor.

As the group arrives, they pull up chairs to sit with the three sixth years. The smiles never leave their faces, and [Name] leans his elbows on the table, chin in hand. “How are the three most talked about members of Hogwarts?” Draco inhales as he listens to his honey smooth voice, sighing softly in delight. He could listen to the elder boy talk for hours. The three are silent, before Granger closes the book she was holding sharply. ‘Quite well, thank you.” She is not pleasant so much as inquiring why in Merlin's name they were having a conversation. Draco had to acknowledge the mudblood was much sharper than her male companions. Though it couldn’t be that hard.

“That's great to hear!” Marina coo’s. She flips her raven curls over her shoulder, smiling sharply. Darius leans on the table with the same expression. “Not getting into too much trouble?” Draco rolled his eyes. When were they not nose deep in problems? They practically begged for it. The three shook their heads. [Name] sighed sadly, twirling his wand. “Unfortunately, I’m having a few issues.” He stated. “Members of my house are messing about, getting muddled up in things.” Ron scoffed, and [Name’s] wand stilled in his hands. Draco smiled, watching as the red headed dimwit fell into the trap the Slytherin had set.

“ Probably that slimy rat, Malfoy.” He snickered, looking over at his friends when they shook their heads sharply. Hermione slapped his arm, mumbling a curt ‘quiet’, but it was too late. With a strike rivalling a cobra, [Name] was halfway over the table with his hand on the red heads robes, pulling his face close. “Now, Weasley, let's not get ahead of ourselves.” He snarls. Draco’s heart pounded erratically, never having seen the Head Boy so riled, and angry. He would be lying if he said it wasn’t intriguing. And Merlin, was he intrigued. [Name’s] [colour] hair covered his eyes as he towered over the sitting boy, white-knuckled grip on the boy's robes tightening.

“Take this as your only warning, the next time you insult him like that, it will be the last time you will ever use your tongue. Understand, Weasel?” His voice was deathly calm, and he dropped ROn back into his seat, slinking back into his own. The Weasley collapsed into Hermione's arms, face pale and ghastly, Draco supposed anyone else would believe he had seen a dementor.

As the trio glared at thim, [Name’s] expression calmed, and he smirked as he met eyes with the raven boy. “Now, Potter. I’ve noticed you have been quite interested in something of mine –” The two beside him shared a soft smile at his words “ – And I would appreciate it if you would stop.”

Harry tilted his head slightly. “What?” The Slytherin rolled his eyes. “Stop following Malfoy around like a lost puppy.” He said shortly. He leaned his arms on the table. “He does not concern you, and frankly I don't take kindly to your little obsession.” Marina stood from her seat, followed by Darius. They three were ready to leave, the message said. Until the arrogant bespeckled boy spoke, freezing them in place.

“Frankly, I don't care what you want. He’s up to something, and I won't stop until I know what.’

[Name] laughed softly, though his hands clenched at his side. Draco furrowed his eyebrows, fighting the red erupting onto his cheeks. Pansy giggled beside him, nudging his side playfully. “Stop it!” he hissed quietly, focusing on the scene before him.

“You shouldn’t mess around, kid.” Darius warned. Harry scoffed, standing straight in an attempt to look intimidating. Even then he barely reached [Name’s] shoulder, who moved to stand over him. Hermione watched nervously with Ron, tugging on her friend's sleeve. 'Harry stop.’

[Name] smirked. “Yes, listen to the little mudblood.” he snarled.

Harry lifted his hand, wand clutched tightly in an attempt to hex him. However [Name] was quicker, swatting the wood away, and pulling his wrist close. He dug his nails in, hissing into the raven's ear. “Congratulations, Potter, you’ve earned yourself a taste of what's coming for you.”

He pulled his wand out, almost ripping the fabric of Harry’s shirt as he pulled it back. As the pale tan skin was xposed, the dark wood dug in right above the elbow. Harry began to sweat, desperately tugging at the older boy’s grip. Draco’s eyes widened to saucers, mouth hanging open in awe. Pansy looked similar, though she was smiling wide.

[Name] smirked. “Maybe we should match,” he dug the wand harder into the raven's skin, causing him to whimper quietly. Draco knew he was referring to the Dark Mark “ He never said we couldn’t rough you up, just that you had to be alive.” He smiled, [colour] eyes glistening in manic rage. “Would you like that? Just a little one? Or are you ready to do as told?” He watched in glee as Harry

Held back tears, glaring as he sucked in air. “Fine.”

[Name] let go, pulling away to stand by his friends. Harry sunk to the ground as his friends rushed to his side. The three slytherins turned away with quick fair wells, ignoring the glares on their backs. As they left, [Name] turned slightly, [colour] eyes meeting Draco’s sharp blue. The blonde sucked in a breath, flushing as a small smirk and wink was sent his way. The older boy had known he was there, and Draco felt a thrill at the thought that the whole thing was directed towards him.

He slid down the shelf when [Name] left the library, head lent back against the bookcase behind him. He was so awfully tired, over the things he desperately needed to do. Pansy slunk down beside him, smirking. “So.. You're his, huh?”

“Shut up!”

#draco malfoy #draco lucius malfoy #draco fanfiction #harry potter #hogwarts #slytherin #male reader #x male reader #draco x reader #malfoy

493 notes · View notes