#Just typical Malfoy things | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

writingsbychlo · 4 months

Text

BUY ME PRESENTS | draco malfoy

summary; draco loves you, and you love him. he just needs a little push to make things official. OR, draco malfoy fighting for his life when he realises just how much everyone wants his girl.

word count; 8928

notes; this is based on christmas eve, but I'm posted a couple days later! this fic puts us half way through our slytherin boy holidays! I'm not sure how the one I expected to be the shortest became the longest one so far. like, seriously, I know I keep saying this but wtf? why can't I write a short fic?

Dinner had already been served by the time you made it to the Grand Hall, the smells of roasted meats and seasoned potatoes filling the air, your mouth watering as you navigated between the throngs of people. Your seat had been saved, of course. A spot on the bench between Draco and Daphne, and as you neared, your friends noticed, smiles rising and waves in your direction.

Sinking into your seat, you pressed a kiss to the cheek of the blond boy beside you, his face tipping up to receive it and lips twisting into a smile, attention moving to you as you sat.

“Good day?”

“Better now that it’s over.” You smiled, a chuckle falling from him, and his hand came to rest upon your thigh, squeezing comfortingly while you helped yourself to a plate of whatever food was left. “What are we talking about, what did I miss?”

“Not much. Just Theo telling us all about Christmas in Italy.” Mattheo rolled his eyes, as though you all hadn't heard this exact same speech since that very first Christmas you’d become friends. Most of the group seemed to have simply tuned it out, laughing and nodding at the correct times as they whispered their own conversations.

A swipe of a thumb over your thigh as you finished filling your plate with food, and you shifted your attention to Draco. “So, what are your Christmas plans, Dray?”

Shuffling a little bit closer now that your plate was full, his arm moved to lay across your shoulders instead, letting you snuggle up into his side. “Oh, you know, the usual.”

He smiled, and your world seemed to get a little bit brighter, his lips brushing your hairline as he left a barely-present kiss there.

“Typical Malfoy-family Christmas. I get to do the tour with my parents, visiting every other rich-arsehole couple they know. Christmas Eve party. The pleasure of my father’s annual ‘you’re growing up now, son, it’s time to get serious about the world’ over the dinner table on Christmas Day. Open some presents I don’t want, on a schedule I don’t like.” He sighed, clearly used to it by now, but it didn’t make it sound any less awful.

“Well,” You smile, nudging him playfully with your elbow. “Maybe we could write to one another, or even get a little visit in?”

The hope in your voice was evident, and Pansy gave you an encouraging smile across the table. You’d been meaning to ask Draco this question for weeks now, and your last chance had been fast approaching. Since the summer, you and Draco had been hooking up. It was no secret among your friends, or even the students; your affections for one another were hardly contained, but it wasn't official.

You wanted the labels, the security, and the safety of knowing that he was yours and you were his, and nobody else could come between you. You wanted to be introduced to his parents, be his date at events, to have him be proud to call you his girl. But Draco had been hesitant, avoiding every conversation that might inch into the ‘so, what are we?’ territory, keeping a safe distance from any kind of real commitment.

It wasn’t enough for you anymore, not by a long shot, but trying to talk to Draco about it only ended up with him shutting it down, or skilfully diverting the conversation and you were growing tired of his games.

Draco only made a vague noise, neither an agreement nor disagreement, and looked away from you as he picked up his drink to take a sip. “I don’t know… maybe. I can get pretty busy over the holidays, I’d hate to let you down.”

Another skill of his, making it seem like cancelling or delaying or not doing something at all was your idea. He was clearly hoping you’d brush it off, and tell him not to worry about it, but instead, you kept quiet. Not giving him the satisfaction of any easy win, this time.

Pansy caught your eye across the table, shaking her head disapprovingly, and shooting a glare at an oblivious Draco. She had been your confidant these last few months, every update and development in your situationship, she’d been informed of. Every decision, she’d been a part of. She was practically as invested as you were, at this point, and she certainly did not approve of his nonchalant behaviour either.

“Speaking of parties,” Mattheo cut Theo off, clearly having had enough of the annual rehashing of ‘that one Christmas when Theo was eight’ for today, and changing the subject, “Who’s got their dates sorted for the Malfoy Christmas Eve Ball, and who’s daring to go solo and have Narcissa set them up like a matchmaker all night long?”

Chuckles rang out among the group, and Pansy smiled, leaning into Blaise’s side with a love-struck grin. “I think we’re safe this year.”

“I’m going solo, but, I did tell Aunty Cissa that I have my eye on a girl in one of my classes, and I’m seeing how it plays out. So, she’s not setting me up anytime soon, since she believes I’m already onto someone.” Enzo smirked, and Blaise congratulated him for his clever tactics.

You smirked through your mouthful of food, listening to Mattheo explain his complex excuse, to Reggie mournfully spill the story of how he’s already been set up by his parents witha ‘potential bride to meet’, and how he hopes she doesn’t show up. You laugh with the others as Tom simply raises an eyebrow, knowing that even Narcissa doesn’t attempt to set him up anymore, lest he scare away any more of her friends’ daughters. Theo, ever the player he is, is looking forward to dancing with every single lady he can find, and taking his pick at the end of the night.

“I suppose nobody needs to ask Draco who his date will be.” Mattheo grins, wiggling his brows at the pair of you as you smile, leaning a little further into the man at your side.

“Hey, who knows?” He chortles, and your eyes narrow a little, “I’ve had plenty of offers. I haven’t made up my mind yet.”

“Oooh.” Enzo’s eyes went wide, the other boys joining in, and Pansy fixed him with a glare. Daphne leaned around you with her jaw dropped at his statement, and you sat up from his embrace, lips pressed flat and a brow raised.

The boys snickered, ‘he’s in shit’ and ‘someone’s in the doghouse’, but he lived for the spotlight, a drama queen at heart, and he smirked down at you.

“Oh, c’mon. Don’t look at me like that, babe.” The playful nickname was one he only ever used when joking around. When he was sincere, he was much more romantic; darling, sweetheart, beautiful. “What am I supposed to say? ‘Hi mum, hello father, meet the girl I’m skipping class to shag! Thanks for paying my tuition!’, I don’t think so.”

The boys all laughed, Daphne scoffed in sync with her sister behind you, and Pansy looked like she’d lunge across the table at any moment, if it wasn’t for her chastising Blaise for laughing, instead. ‘You and Draco can share that couch you’ll both be sleeping on tonight’, she’d said. ‘See how funny you think it is then’.

The words stung as he spoke them, dismantling your relationship down to the bare minimum; to sex and physical connection and nothing else. Like the nights spent talking until the sun came up were nothing, the times you’d held him while he cried, or washed him in the bath when he was so exhausted he could barely keep his eyes open. Like he didn’t rub your stomach for hours every month when you got cramps, or had a stash of your favourite snacks in his bedside table for whenever you came over.

You knew that Draco Malfoy lived you, just as much as you loved him. It was evident in everything he did, every kiss and every word. But, he needed a little push.

“I suppose you’re right,” You sigh lightly, giggling along with the laughing boys around the table. “I’m not so sure Lucius wouldn't burst a blood vessel then and there.”

“Exactly.” Draco hummed, and you glanced back to Pansy. She was shocked, only for a second, before taking in the subtle signs of mischief on your face. Her own smirk stretched out in return, and her gaze flickered once to Draco, before back to you.

A new game was afoot, and Draco wasn’t going to stand a chance.

Slipping your coat from your shoulders, the annual Malfoy Christmas Eve Ball was well underway. Your parents had disappeared into the crowds before you’d even stepped out of the carriage, uncaring of where you were as long as you weren’t causing trouble. They were here to mingle with the other importants, and you were just here to learn the ropes of proper socialising.

The garment was taken from you, your small bag clutched in hand as a ticket was given to you for it, and you brushed down the front of your dress delicately. Pearls moved under your touch, beading along the bodice flat and perfected, and you felt your confidence rise as you looked at yourself once more in the reflection of a dark window. Adjusting the small lace gloves on each hand, you took a step towards the dining room.

Elegant music was playing from a live band up on a stage, the room was decorated this year to look like a winter escape. Pale and frosty, like a palace of ice, twinkling lights and glittering decor, crisp white tablecloths and ice sculptures. A layer of goosebumps travelled along your skin at the sight of it all, despite the warming charms that took place for the guests.

Scanning the room, you quickly found your table. The designated kids table, despite you all being legal adults and far beyond such status. You’d all be the babies of the ball until the new generation emerged, no doubt. Moving through the bodies and crowds of people politely, Theo was the first to glance up and spot you, his mouth falling open, and a rush of confidence took over as he raised two fingers to his lips and whistled.

The sound caught the attention of the others’ chatter fading to quiet as they all turned to look for the object of his cat-calling, Enzo’s eyes widened, Pansy cheered loudly, and even Mattheo looked momentarily speechless. You’d had the same reaction when you’d seen yourself in the dress too, your stylist had truly outdone herself for this one.

You looked flawless, and you looked expensive, and utterly elegant. Doing a little spin as you approached, a smile broke free on your lips as you stopped before the chair with your name card before it.

“Merlin, babe,” Pansy started, drawing your attention straight her her, “You’ve got every eye on you tonight. If I was single, I’d be all over you.”

She winked when you laughed, and Blaise rolled his eyes but smiled, leaning in to kiss her cheek affectionately.

“Pretty necklace,” She commented, and your fingers rose to the pretty string of pearls and diamonds that you had.

“It was a gift,” You simply hummed, tugging at your gloves. Glancing at the others, you gave each a polite smile, eyes lingering on Draco as he stared. In any other style, this dress would be scandalous for an event like this. A low neckline, spaghetti straps, no sleeves. Tight and fitted to every curve of your body, and yet the classic designs and vintage nature elevated it to the kind of class Audrey Hepburn would be proud of.

He looked just as good, a dark suit, a fresh white shirt, a champagne-coloured tie that made the colour of his eyes and his hair stand out and your mouth dried out a little. Silver rings adorned his fingers, the Malfoy signet standing out, clenched so tightly around his whiskey glass that his knuckles were almost white.

You’d worn soft, golden makeup effects today, a dusting of glitter along your cheekbones and eyelids, a shade of pink on your cheeks and lips that you knew was his weakness.

“Someone really wanted your attention with that, huh?” Your best friend teased, and your eyes snapped away from Draco, back to her.

“I suppose so,” You muse, hand coming up to touch one of the beads on your ear, “Since they also got me this lovely pair of matching earrings.”

Pansy made a dramatic show of admiring them, and Blaise gave a funny look, glancing at the jewellery, and then back at Draco, who was frowning. Before you could reach for your chair after placing your clutch down, Enzo was shooting to his feet from beside you, tugging out the chair for you.

Draco scoffed as you gave him a thank you, settling into your seat, and he glared at the man beside you. Enzo didn’t flinch, however, smirking at Draco as he spoke;

“What? It’s called being a gentleman, cousin.”

Crossing your leg delicately, you’d hardly even removed your gloves, before a tray was coming down by your side, and a young waiter with a dazzling smile was looking right at you.

“Champagne, ma’am?” Not a planned pawn in your game, but a welcome addition, you smiled sweetly in return.

“Oh, I’d love some. Thank you.” Taking the single glass by the stem, you lifted it from the tray and the man’s smile stretched wider as you sipped the bubbly, holding his eye.

“Of course, miss. If you need anything, anything at all, I’ll be at the bar, happy to serve.” His flirting was heavy enough that normally you’d want to roll your eyes, but tonight, you suppressed that urge, playing into it as you bat your lashes.

“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind. Thank you.”

He took the dismissal, staring appreciatively as he walked away, another look over his shoulder to you as you watched him go.

“Stop eye-fucking the help.” Draco snapped, and your focus moved to him slowly, just to find his icy glare on you. He didn’t scare you, though, all that mean bravado, but you knew what was underneath.

“I was doing no such thing.” You tut, placing down your drink. “Don’t be jealous, Dray. You look even better in that suit. If you want compliments, just ask. No need to be mean.”

He seemed rather placated by this, his ego settling down, even if the others did laugh at him.

The conversation seemed to continue around you as you settled in, avoiding Draco’s heated stare and sipping at your champagne. The rush of warming alcohol through your veins settled every dancing nerve, and gave you the calm confidence to do what you had planned. Sitting forwards, just enough, you angled your body so that Draco might have the perfect view over your cleavage as you feigned interest in the chatter around you.

He took the bait, his gaze falling right where you wanted it, the gems of your necklace dangling just over the swell of your breasts, and he licked his lower lip, pulling it between his teeth.

Raising your hands and catching the swinging gem, you toyed with it carefully, letting it run over your fingers. Time melted away as Draco’s gaze flicked between your nimble touch, your lips, and your chest, shuffling in his seat every so often, and gulping at the bubbly in his glass.

He was on his third refill by the time food started to be taken around, and you took pity on him momentarily, sitting back in your chair and angling away from him, ready to receive your first course.

As the starters came around, you turned to thank your waiter, surprised to see it was the same man from the bar who had brought you your champagne. You’d given him little thought since he’d walked away, and you’d never spotted him again, but perhaps that was exactly why he was delivering your food now, as he beamed at you and set down the plate.

Men did love a little attention, after all.

Reaching for the bottle of champagne cooling in the centre of the table, the waiter never looked away from you as he refilled your glass without being asked. Draco finally seemed to notice as he finished adjusting his napkin, gaze narrowing on the man serving you. “You’ve got to be kidding me…” He muttered.

You pretended to take no notice, smiling at the man and waving your fingers flirtily as he walked away.

“I’m going to get another drink at the bar,” He announced, leaving without his glass and without asking if anyone else wanted one. You knew where he was truly going, if the lock of his jaw and the stamp in his step were any indication. You doubted you’d be seeing that waiter again.

As you poked at your food, Pansy excused herself too, only a few bites into her meal before she disappeared with a wicked grin and no explanation to anyone. Enzo just chuckled beside you, glancing around the room like he was watching all the cogs of a machine in motion, before turning his gaze on you. “You do look lovely tonight, do you know that?”

“Of course I do. I spent days on end trying on dress after dress to find this.” You sighed, admiring the gorgeous piece of art on your body as you set your cutlery down.

“And is it serving the purpose you need it to?” He teased, voice knowing, and you nodded. Flicking your gaze over the patrons and guests in the room, you searched for Draco, finding him talking politely to one of his mother’s friends at the bar.

“It is, I think.”

“Let’s hope it stays that way.” He whispered, your focus still on the man who truly held your heart, who was making his polite excuse and walking way, back towards you all. His gaze locked on yours, only for a second, before Pansy was calling your name and drawing your focus elsewhere.

When you looked up to her, she was grinning, a man by her side. “This is Elliot, he’s been wanting to meet you for some time. I promised him I’d introduce you both tonight.”

You offered the best smile you could as his cheeks reddened, and Pansy merely patted him on the shoulder, slinking away as you offered your hand to him. “Lovely to meet you, Elliot.”

“You too. As embarrassing as that introduction was, it’s true. I have wanted to meet you for some time.” He had a kind smile and pretty eyes, and he seemed far too nice to be dragged into your game tonight, but he seemed almost like a willing participant, and you weren’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. As Draco took his seat, Elliot continued, “Pansy has told me so much about you. You know, if you’re free one day before you go back to that fancy boarding school of yours, I’d love to take you out.”

“Yeah? What have you got in mind?” You smile, twisting a little more to face him, and your encouragement only brightens his expression as Draco’s darkens in your peripheral.

“A night in London, perhaps. We could get dinner, and see the opera?”

“She doesn’t like the opera.” Draco sneered, openly staring at Elliot with enough contempt to scare away lesser men. Elliot tugged at his collar, glancing at Draco, and then back to you as you tried to hide your shock at his behaviour.

“The theatre, then?”

Draco looked ready to snap again, and before he could, you nodded, sparing your unwilling partner. “That sounds wonderful, I’ll see what my schedule says. I’ll get in touch with you through Pansy if I can find the time, is that okay?”

“Perfect.” He smiled, sneaking another wary glance at Draco who was not backing down from glaring at him unflinchingly, but Elliot shook it off, bravely. “It was a pleasure to meet you, truly.”

“And you, Elliot.”

Soon after he left, the plates were being cleared. You tried not to smirk as a different waiter, and one who very pointedly did not so much as even catch your gaze, cleared your dishes away at record speed.

You knew that Draco had something, everything, to do with that. He was jealous by nature, a spoilt single child who did not like to share his favourite toys, and that is exactly what you were betting on tonight.

You stood, taking a lap around the room with Pansy to settle your food before the next course, and to get another drink. She took the opportunity to fill you in on how her first Christmas event with Blaise’s family had gone, and when you returned, you made sure to surreptitiously place yourself behind Draco’s chair.

You placed a hand on his shoulder, a friendly gesture, squeezing and rubbing enough that your thumb swept over his collar and across his neck. His pulse jumped under your touch, and he tipped his head closer, into your touch.

As he did so, your heart leapt in your chest. To others, it might look like a friendly gesture but to you, it meant so much more. You were tempted to cave then and there, to live with this being enough, to settle, but you couldn't. You didn’t want this to be it, you wanted to follow this by leaning down to kiss him, to have him smile against your lips in public the way he did when you were alone.

To arrive at these events together, arms linked, and to stumble out tiredly together too. To sit by him, his hand on your thigh, to rest your head on his shoulder, to kiss him on the dance floor. The thought was enough to push you through.

He twisted his head, to kiss your hand like he often did when you did this. Carefully, you slipped your hand away just in time, knuckles brushing across the nape of his neck as you stepped away, and back to your seat.

His sights moved to you, but like a saving grace, the servers began to appear with more dishes, and dinner soon distracted you all. A delicious serving of salmon and potatoes, and the hall fell quiet enough for you to hear the beautiful music playing when chatter fell low.

Low conversation, drinks refilled, and that perfect mood set across the room, as people took to the tables and quieted down. Your favourite part of the night, usually. Good food, your friends, and a chance to catch up without the usual weight of it all sitting on you. Regulus was talking, telling the rare story that had him caught up in a long conversation where he usually just observed quietly, but your attention was fixed on your lover.

Until, Theo spoke up.

“Oh, merda,” He muttered across Reggie’s’ story, his gaze cutting to you alarmingly quickly. “I forgot to tell you.”

“Tell me what?” Your heart skipped a beat, a flash of panic.

“My cousin flew in last minute for the party, and he wants to speak to you.” Theo’s words soothed your panic, and you offered him a flat look for the dramatic way he’d put it. Taking a sip from your glass, you raised a brow.

“When?”

“Now.” He confirmed, sights lifting to sit just behind you, and before you could even turn, a chair was being pulled up beside your own from another table. Turning your head to the owner, a smile burst across your face at the man sitting before you.

“Dario!” Your arms were around his neck before you could stop yourself, and he was chuckling as he bundled you into an equally enthusiastic hug. He chuckled lightly, pulling back only far enough to press a friendly kiss to your cheek, and you cupped his face as you parted from him. “You’re growing a beard!”

“My mother hates it.” He chuckled, rubbing a hand over it. As you twisted a little more towards him, he reached down, practically manhandling you as he reached for the edge of your seat by your legs, tugging it sideways to face him. You squealed as the chair jolted, screeching on the floor, tugging you closer as he leaned in. “Sei incantevole.”

“Are you charming me in Italian?” You smirk, a boyish smile on his face as he lounged back in his seat. “What are you doing here, anyway? Theo said none of you were flying in this year! I thought you couldn't make it.”

“I couldn't,” He sighed, shrugging, “But, then I heard that you would be here, without a date, and I knew I just had to make it. So, here I am, la mia bella donna. You think a short flight from Italy would stop me rushing over here to you?”

Your giggle was against your control. Even if he was more like family than a romantic interest, the way his accent twisted around coyly spoken words, was enough to bring a blush to even the most unreceptive woman’s face. “Cut it out, you flirt.”

“You’ll save me a dance later, right?”

“We’ll see.” He rose his brow, and you lifted your glass, taking a sip of bubbly to hide your smile, leaving him hanging. “Depends on how much more of your cheesy flirting I can endure.”

“You mean my wonderful Italian charm?” He teased, pinching one of your cheeks, and deepening the flush he had already created. “Don’t think I don’t see the way I make you blush.

You could only scoff, mouth dry as you tried to think of a retort, and you didn’t miss Theo muttering in Italian behind you, curse words you’d picked up on tumbling from his mouth.

“Perhaps this can convince you,” Dario reaches for his inner pocket, producing a small, slim box. An excited squeak breaks from you as he hands it over, your fingers brushing the elegant leather, an Italian name embossed across the front. “Open it later, alright?”

You could only nod, admiring it happily, before slipping the box safely inside of your clutch. He took your hand, kissing your knuckles as he stood. A final wink as he offered you hid charming goodbyes, and a farewell to the rest of the table, before returning his borrowed chair to where he had taken it from.

You watched as your friend left, disappearing into the crowd, no doubt to mingle and socialise as he had always been so good at, before you swung back around in your chair.

“He taught you everything you know, huh, Nott?”

Theo only shrugged, a cheeky grin on his face. “What can I say, tesoro? We Nott men just have charm. We’ll woo your panties right off.” He winked, the cockiness not lasting long as Draco swung at him, a fist landing roughly on his arm as the Malfoy heir scowled, glaring at his best friend.

“Cut it out.” He growled the words through gritted teeth, and your hand shot up, rubbing at your lip to hide your grin as Draco made no effort to hide his own emotions. Theo only laughed, rubbing at the patch on his arm he’d taken the hit.

Dessert was served, a beautiful display of ice cream and winter berries that almost looked too good to eat. The key word being almost. You hadn't been able to resist, however, and the first small groan you’d let out as the sugar hit your tongue had Draco’s gaze snapping straight to you. I did not leave, once, after.

Instead, he watched, through a dark gaze, every curl of your lips around the spoon, every swipe of your tongue to catch the juice of burst berries. If you’d put on a little extra show, just for him, nobody else had to know.

It was like he was staring right into your soul, so intense, even after the meal was long since finished. Finally, you indulged him once again, turning to look at him and raising a brow. “Yes, Draco?”

“You look beautiful tonight, I am simply admiring.” He let his gaze move across you slowly, making his admiration apparent, and his gaze lingered a fraction of a second longer on your neck. He stared at you with open adoration, the kind of look that told you exactly how he felt, even if he was fighting it, but he was close to breaking. He was close to losing this game he didn’t know he was playing. Then, his gaze flickered over your shoulder, sweet observation morphing. His brows drew together, his open hand slamming down on the table hard enough to make the glass rattle. “Oh, fucking hell…”

Mattheo erupted with sudden laughter, loud and brash, and there was a tap on your shoulder before you could even ask him what had him in such hysterics. A young man you did not know, perhaps a few years younger than you, and glanced around the table to see which of your friends had put this one together. Each seemed to have caught on in their own time, and had a hand in adding to the fun, to watch Draco suffer more, but none of them were laying any claim to this one.

“I’ve been watching you all evening, and you are beautiful.” He smiled, stuttering over his words slightly, and Draco made no shy show of his disdain, rolling his eyes and making a disapproving sound. “I was wondering if you might grant me the pleasure of a dance?”

“She would dance with you,” Enzo interrupted, before you could speak at all, leaning forward toward the edge of your chair from his own, and you could have kissed him in gratitude for saving you. “But, she promised me her first dance. Isn’t that right, love? And I think now is the perfect time. Let’s go.”

Offering you his hand, you took it, letting him sweep you away without a second’s delay, navigating you both to the dance floor and twirling you expertly into his arms. One hand clasped your own, the other sitting at a respectable place on your waist, your own on his shoulder, and he fell into the well-rehearsed steps of a classical ballroom dance he’d been doing since he could walk.

You let out a shaky sigh, relief flooding your veins as you looked back to your seat, noticing that the boy had taken Enzo’s rejection well and disappeared, not hanging around and waiting for your return.

“You’re killing him slowly, like a predator playing with its prey,” Enzo smirked, neither of you needing to clarify who you were talking about, as he brought up his cousin.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Really?” He chuckled, spinning you out before pulling you back in, sharp actions that made you dizzy with their accuracy, and you grinned as he brought you tumbling right back into his arms, perfectly. If he’d been trying to win you over, his dancing alone would’ve had you swooning. “You just show up to a fancy event like this, dripping in diamonds and pearls and looking like a million bucks, supposedly single. You mean to tell me you didn’t know that all these rich London boys wouldn't descend on you like vultures?”

“Not my fault I’m single and hot, Enz.”

He just laughed, dipping you a little. “We do struggle, don’t we.” You wove between people, a happy silence falling between you both once again as he guided you over the floor, back and forth, “Are you, though? Single, I mean.”

“That is up to your cousin.”

“Touché.”

You continued to move, until your feet were sore from all the twirling, clinging to Enzo in fits of giggles as he spun and twirled and dipped you more, hands on your waist as he lifted you through the air, making a show of his dancing.

He may have seemed altruistic in his gestures, sweeping in to save you and Draco from your dance with the boy, but he was using you too. Enzo was taking every opportunity to show off his moves to every lady around the room watching, a flirty smile on his face between conversations and he glanced around, and you wouldn't be surprised if he received more offers than Theo or Dario by the end of the night.

As the third song came to an end, and the music fell for just a second, you panted slightly, arm around his neck now, looking up at him with flushed cheeks and a bright smile. “Can we take a break?”

“Tired, already? You only gave me three so far.” He smirked at the way your jaw dropped, your face going hot and you knew your cheeks were red. You untangled yourself from his body, barely making it a step away from his laughter before he wrapped an arm around your waist, tugging you into his side. “Oh, c’mon. I thought the aim was to flirt and make him mad?”

“He’s not even here to listen!”

“I’m practising,” Enzo murmured, steering you towards the bar, and leaning on the wood as he flagged down the bartender. You were quickly served, by a woman who fawned over Enzo as she passed by, and you had to snap your fingers in front of his face to snap his gaze away from her retreating form. “So, how long are you going to make him—”

A tap on Enzo’s shoulder cut him off, and he turned to look, straightening up instantly from his slumped position. As soon as he moved so you could see, your relaxation melted away too, as you found yourself face to face with Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy.

“Lorenzo, I’ve hardly had a chance to talk to you all evening. I want to ask you about your schoolwork.” The impressively formal and deep voice of Lucius Malfoy settled over your skin like fresh snow, cold but smooth, and you shuddered.

Narcissa only chuckled lightly at her husband’s words, her eyes on you. “You’ve been busy, though. Who is your lovely lady?”

“Uncle Lucius, Aunt Cissa. This is my friend, (Y/n).”

It wasn’t exactly the circumstances you’d wanted to meet them under, but you smiled nonetheless, nerves running wild as you offered your hand to them both, shaking politely just as your parents had taught you.

“Ah, (Y/n). Yes. I make a point of knowing all of Draco’s school friends, but I’m in business with your father, aren’t I?” Something like a small kernel of sweetness was buried in that statement, his interest in his son’s life, even if he tried to hide it behind formalities, but it wasn’t your place to comment.

“Yes, sir. That is correct.”

“They’re very proud of your schoolwork. They were telling me about your latest project. You synthesised a new potion to grow murkweed faster, is that true?”

You were surprised he knew so much, your small project submitted for Herbology was the last thing you’d expected Lucius Malfoy to know of, or take an interest in, and your mouth felt like sandpaper as you tried to form words. “Yes. Yes, sir. That’s right.”

“Interesting.” That calculating gaze scanned over you, analysing you from head to toe, like he could see right through you with a single glance. “That is impressive, for someone of your age. I’d be open to learning more. Are you considering making a future out of your alchemy talents? I have connections that I could contact for you.”

You were speechless, your stomach going wild with butterflies born of both excitement and anxiety. He smirked, a look that would set you on edge if you weren’t sure deep down that this was in your interests, not against them.

“Perhaps we can discuss it more soon, when we next see you. With Enzo?”

Enzo’s arm around your waist shifted, a reassuring weight that you were sure had been your only grounding presence for this surreal conversation. He patted your hip encouragingly. “Oh, no, we aren’t…”

Motioning between you both, Lucius’ brows furrowed, and Narcissa tried to hide her sigh.

“Sorry to disappoint you, Aunt Cissa. (Y/n) isn’t mine, though it is wonderful that you approve.” Before either could question him, or expand on their confusion, Enzo gave your waist a final rub, before removing his touch from you entirely, and stepping towards his family. “Shall we go and discuss schoolwork then, Uncle? You have questions, and I have answers. I hope the ones you want.”

“It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss (Y/l/n).” Lucius politely offered you his hand again, shaking it firmly, and that was about as friendly a dismissal as you’d ever get from him, you’d heard. This was only supported by the surprised look on Narcissa’s face, and the beam Enz gave you as he guided his uncle away.

“I hope to see you again soon, (Y/n). You look wonderful this evening, thank you for coming.” Narcissa murmured, before following her husband and nephew, glancing back at you only once over her shoulder. She knew. The woman was far more cunning than she let on, the true embodiment of a sneaky Slytherin, observing quietly and taking everything in. Her eyes glinted. She knew you knew she knew, too.

Your heart was pounding, cheeks warm as you lifted your fingers to them cautiously. The disappointed waitress placed down two drinks before you, Enzo long gone without his, but you smiled at her with appreciation, fingers shaking a little as you lifted the glass to your lips to take a sip.

You’d spoken to Draco’s parents.

They’d liked you. Lucius had offered to put you onto the career path, and Narcissa had complimented your dress. A soft laugh of disbelief slipped free, your eyes sliding closed for just a second as you revelled in the moment.

It hasn’t been what you’d set out for tonight, but it was far more than what you’d hoped for. Opening your eyes again, to head back to the table and find Draco, you were met by the sight of a stranger leaning before you on the bar, grinning down at you in amusement. “Hello.”

“Hi.” You gave a terse smile, and a single nod. “If you’ll excuse me—”

“I didn’t even get to ask you to dance yet. Saw you out on the floor with the Berkshire boy, earlier, and I thought—”

“I’m dancing with her next, mate. Piss off.”

Draco rarely sounded that mad, a chill went down your spine as you felt an arm slide around your waist, tugging you back into his chest. “Dray…”

The stranger only scoffed, glaring at Draco as he wandered away, and your hand reached for his forearm on your body. He snatched it away too soon, however, tugging on your hip to turn you around. His jaw was clenched tight, eyes more frozen than the coldest glacier. “Dance with me.”

Not a request, and he didn’t wait for an answer, before plucking your drink from your hand and slamming it down onto the bar, guiding you back to the swaying bodies. Standing before you, you offered him your hand, your hand sitting lightly on his shoulder. He didn’t take the respectable route, instead, his arm wrapped tight around your waist, sweeping you close to his body, and beginning to move you both in simple steps.

It was several minutes before he relaxed, your arm sliding further around his neck in a more intimate hold, bringing the two of you much closer, swaying slowly. The tension in his body gave way with every step, and with a resigned sigh, he finally spoke, “You met my parents.”

“I did. They were lovely. Very curious about Enzo and I’s relationship.”

His hand clenched on your waist, and you tipped your head at him as his piercing gaze drilled into you. One more move…

“Oh, don’t be so mad, Dray. We’re only shagging, after all. You’ll find a new girl if I get swept away by someone else.”

His eyes narrowed, jaw clenching, and a fire burned in those silver eyes now, melting the ice away with rage. Checkmate.

“You win, alright? I’m not playing this stupid game any longer.” He took a deep breath, and another, fingers twitching on your back as jealousy bubbled under the surface. “For fucks sake, how many pieces of jewellery from other guys are you wearing? Who bought you those earrings, that necklace? I should be the only one buying you gifts. I should be the one spoiling you. You want the Malfoy family ring? I’ll go yank it off my mother’s engagement ring from her finger right now, just take all this off.”

He studied you for a second, confusion growing at the smirk that grew on your lips. Victory was yours, and you leaned in, pressing a delicate kiss to his cheek. Letting the hand from his neck smooth down his chest, his gaze stayed locked on the jewels around your neck, glaring angrily. “No.”

“No?”

“No. It’s pretty. I’m going to keep wearing it all, let it remind you what you have. Next time you piss me off, forget a date, or use the last of my shampoo, I’m going to put it all back on so you can remember how many guys would jump at the chance.” His nostrils flared, but he stayed silent, wisely knowing when to keep his mouth shut. “I don’t want your family ring, Malfoy. Not yet. I just want a proper title, and the respect that comes with it. I’m not your booty call, or your side piece. You don’t want to play games anymore? Then don’t.”

“You already won.” He whispers, his head dropping down to let his forehead rest on your own. “You know how much you mean to me.”

“Yes, I do. But I want the whole world to know it, too, Dray.”

He didn’t respond verbally. Instead, he twisted his head, enough to press his mouth to your own, silencing any more arguments between you both as he kissed you. His lips claimed yours, a tender and loving kiss, showing everyone just how much you meant to him. There was no mistaking the emotions within it, not as his arms wrapped around your body, holding you to him as the pretence of dancing was given up, your hand on the back of his head, fingers in his hair, meeting every push and pull.

When he pulled away, your smile took over, bashful now under his openly adoring gaze, and he stole several more pecks from your lips. A happy sound escaped you as he tugged you in, tucking his face into your neck, and swaying you both to the music.

“Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?”

“You have, but I’d be open to hearing it again.” Your hand smoothed over his hair, and he chuckled against your skin, leaving a kiss on the crook of your neck before raising to meet your eye.

“You are breathtaking, darling. I’m in awe. This colour is my favourite, you know.”

“Why do you think I wore it?”

His fingers trailed down your spine, eyes sparkling even more at that revelation. “How about we get out of here? We’ll make our goodbyes to my parents, and head out.”

“Our goodbyes?” You repeated as he took your hand, lacing your fingers together.

“Yes. From their son and his girlfriend. I think you deserve a proper introduction, after all.”

Tugging you across the floor, he gave you no time to prepare, and certainly, none to disagree, as you smoothed your hair and attempted to control the blush he’d brought to your cheeks. Through the crowds he wove, until he was pulling to a stop just shy of his parents, and Enzo looked as though he could have cried with relief when Lucius’ intense focus was taken away from him. The boy quickly slipped away as both of Draco’s parents turned to face you.

“Miss (Y/l/n), when we said we hoped to see you again soon, I didn’t realise you’d take it quite this literally.” He murmured, voice as low and calm as always, and your lips parted, a different kind of heat flooding your features.

“Oh, behave now, Lucius,” Narcissa grinned, her gaze dropping to your clasped hands, before she reached up to her son’s face, pinching his cheek with a smile. “Draco, darling, I’ve hardly seen you all evening.”

“Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you Mother, but we’ll be leaving early.” She only gave him a knowing look, ignoring Lucius’ displeased huff, as if she wasn’t surprised at all.

“‘We’?”

“My girlfriend and I.” He said, proud and strong, before tugging you forward a little more to stand in front of him. His hand left your own, circling your waist instead, and she offered him a smile at the news.

“I see.” She smiled, patting her son’s cheek affectionately, before turning that knowing gaze on you. “Now Lorenzo’s evasiveness whenever I asked him about you makes sense.”

“You asked about me?” Your words were a rushed squeak, which only seemed to amuse Narcissa more.

“Of course, dear. I wanted to know more about you. I’d ask you to sit and chat with me for a spell, but I believe my son might combust if I did.”

“Mother!” He gasped, and Lucius only tutted.

“Draco.” His father growled softly, shaking his head, and the red on his son’s cheeks only grew.

“You both may go, for now. But I hope you’ll visit me soon, and we might talk?”

“You mean… just us?” Your words tapered off to a near whisper, and Lucius smirked to himself as Draco rolled his eyes.

“Yes, dear. We’ll have tea.”

You could only nod, bidding your final farewells to them both in a state of awe, before Draco was hurrying you along. Tight hands gripping your waist, lips on your neck as he loved you through the crowds, swiping up your bag and giving you barely a moment to say goodbye to your friends before sweeping you away again. It was only due to the snow falling outside, you were sure, that he allowed you to stop long enough to get your coats.

Helping you, he lifted the garment onto you from behind, kissing your cheek as he reached around your body to fasten it. His elegant coat was already on, and leather gloves were on his hands as he offered you one. Lacing your fingers through his own, he smiled, tugging you out into the freezing night, and ushering you around the side of the Manor, away from the stream of cars lined up for guests as they left.

“Where are we going, Dray?”

“To one of the gardens near the path.” He never turned back, leading you carefully around patches of ice and slippery snow as you moved, the light from the house fading. It was almost pitch black, before he mumbled a small spell, and the garden lights glowed to light, glittering on the fresh blanket of ice.

Sitting on the grass was an old-fashioned sleigh, enchanted to keep dry, even in the snow, and two reindeer sat happily in the snow snuffling at the grass and scattered food.

The landscape stretched out far before you both, trees and grass and walls all covered in snow like something from a Christmas card, and the sigh that left your lips clouded in the air before your face.

“Oh, Draco…” Taking a few steps closer, snow-tipped over the tops of your heels as you stepped off the pathway onto the grass, chilling your feet for only a second, before Draco was following. Scooping you up into his arms, you kicked the ice from your feet with a giggle, your arms looping around his neck. “What’s all this?”

“This is your Christmas present. I didn’t realise that was the kind of ice you wanted instead.” He muttered, eyes flicking down to your neck, as he carried you carefully through the snow and towards the ornate sleigh. As you leaned in to kiss his cheek, he smiled shyly, avoiding your gaze as he became embarrassed, “I wanted to do something romantic for you. We can take the sleigh back to the town, get a cab, and take the jet anywhere you want to go. Pansy already packed a bag for you.”

He placed you down on the edge of the sleigh, letting you shuffle across onto the warmed leather. With another kiss to your lips, he scoffed at your smile.

“Merry Christmas, my wicked little girlfriend.”

“I can’t believe you arranged all this.” You were practically bouncing in your seat, watching as Draco nervously tugged on the reins, prompting the lazy animals to stand back up, before settling into the sleigh himself. Like they knew just what to do, they took off in a slow trot, tugging the pair of you along through the snow.

“Maybe if you’d have waited, instead of making me fight for my life tonight, you’d have been surprised.”

His arm was splayed along the back of the seat, and you snuggled in a little closer to him. Curling his arm around you, he pressed a kiss to your forehead, shaking his head and burying his nose in your hair. “If I didn’t make you fight for me, Dray, you’d probably have introduced me to your mother as your study partner. I gave you a little push, that’s all.”

“Is that so?” He muttered, guiding your face up so he could peck your lips. “Who do you think helped me arrange all of this for my ‘lovely lady friend’, hm? I’ve been writing to my mother about having an interest in someone for months now. You underestimate me.”

“You never gave me any other indication!”

“Oh, please. You walk me like a damn dog, you knew how I felt.” His mouth closed over your own, stealing a kiss, and you couldn't help but smile into it. “I think tonight just proves it.”

The sleigh trotted on as Draco kissed you in the back, beyond thought and reason, your hands tucked into his coat for warmth as he kept you cuddled in close to his side.

Minutes melted away, the two of you lost in your own world as you jostled and trotted through the fields, back toward the town. Whatever he had planned, it had been in motion for days, and the thought only made you fall a little more in love with him. Perhaps you had underestimated him, but none of it mattered now, not when he was kissing you like you were his only way to breathe, and you had him in your arms, properly, at last.

“So, Pansy knew about your little plan?”

“Yes. I told her days ago.”

“Hm…” You loved her, and it was perhaps her knowledge of Draco’s actions that made this all the funnier. “So, she knew about your plan, and mine. And still, she made sure to introduce guys to me all night. She played us both just for her own amusement.”

As you thought of her, your fingers lifted to your neck, sitting on the delicate jewellery there, and Draco huffed. Looping his finger underneath it, he tugged lightly. “Can you take this off now, please?”

“Why would I do that?” His pout deepened, glaring at the offending item, and you gave in with an airy laugh. “Pansy, Daph and Tori picked it out personally.”

“What?” His head snapped up, pout gone as his jaw dropped, and he was not laughing like you were. “You let me believe another guy decked you out in diamonds all night! What about the matching earrings?”

“Blaise.”

“The bracelet?”

“Theo and the Notts.”

At that mention, his eyes narrowed again, searching for your clutch and finding it resting in your lap. “But Theo’s cousin Mario gave you a separate gift.”

“Dario.” You corrected, and he mimicked it childishly, scoffing afterwards. “Well, that part was real. He truly was flirting, and I have no idea what it is, I haven’t opened it yet.”

“Give it to me.” He reached for your bag, a second too slow as you swiped it away from him with a gasp. He didn’t give up, still trying to snatch it as he leaned over you, pressing you back into the seat through fits of laughter, the two of you fighting over the bag until it was pressed to your chest, your eyes wide as you stared up at him, shaking your head. “Give it to me! I’m chucking it, hand it over!”

“No, it’s mine!” He slumped back into his seat, panting for breath and smoothing his hair back down. He was pointedly staring away in the opposite direction, and when you leaned in closer with a chuckle, he leaned away. Grabbing his shoulder, you planted yourself firmly in his lap, kissing the underside of his jaw. “I’m keeping it, but your present is better, I just know it. Whatever it is, could never beat this.”

“Promise?”

“I promise, Dray.”

He gave in, wrapping his arms around your waist, tugging you in closer to his body and pressing a happy kiss to your cheek. “Fine, but I’m buying you a new necklace when we get off the damn plane. I don’t care who bought that one.”

#draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy/reader #draco malfoy/you #harry potter #slytherin boys #tom felton #draco malfoy x y/n

6K notes · View notes

slytherinslut0 · 5 months

Text

teasing. | syltherin boy headcanons

author’s note: based on a request i received. i am feral.

- your boyfriends reaction to you teasing him under the table at dinner.

Draco Malfoy.

Draco had been in a proper fowl mood all day, and you could tell he was stressed, a clear mixture of a million different things floating through his mind.

You were literally counting down the seconds until you could finally be alone with him, but dinner was fucking dragging.

Sitting next to him, you couldn’t help but to sneak continual glances at him, noting his silver eyes darkened to a deep shade of grey, the tension in his jaw practically palpable as he stared at his plate like he could hex it into another dimension.

Just looking at him made your breath quicken, made your pulse soar.

Of course, part of you empathized with his shitty day, but the other part of you wanted to get on your knees for him right then and there--

because, undeniably so, he’s at his fucking sexiest when he’s pissed.

As Pansy’s chipper voice filled the air, yammering away to a blissfully blazed Zabini, both of them seated across from you and your boyfriend, an idea sparked in your mind.

Without hesitation, you scooted closer to him, subtly enough to not draw any attention to yourself, but enough for Draco to shoot you a side-eyed glance, eyebrow raised.

Feeling his eyes on you, you kept your gaze on your plate as you brushed your hand against his thigh, testing his reaction.

You could practically hear him swallow, could practically feel his body tense, and you’d try not to smirk.

Thrilled, you’d inch your fingers further, tracing small patterns along the middle of his thigh before trailing upwards.

He’d shift on the bench, the veins in his hands tensing as he tightened his grip on his fork.

His reactions would fuel your fire, and you’d keep going, grazing over his crotch, and he’d groan, stifling it with a cough instantly, and that’s when he’d had enough.

Shifting his hand, he’d grasp your thigh, now--with an intensity in his grip so strong you’d almost squeal. A silent warning.

He’d lean in, his voice darker than the midnight sky as he’d whisper, “you’re lucky I have some dignity…but keep it up and I’ll bend you over this fucking table right now, in front of everyone.”

your grin would be unmissable, and you’d only make it another few minutes before he dragged you away from the table and back to his dorm.

Blaise Zabini.

Blaise was literally just eating. And that’s all it took.

That’s all it took for you to want him, to damn-near need him, right then and there.

He’d been flirty with you all morning, making you swoon over his every word with his typical Zabini charm, as though he was still trying to win you over.

You found yourself giggling like a goddamn first year more times than you could even begin to count while he was around, and it drove you crazy, in the best way.

You couldn’t help it, you just always wanted to be near him, kissing him, touching him. He just made you feel that needy. Effortlessly.

And that feeling carried over throughout the entirety of your day, and didn’t falter at dinner. Oh, not even in the slightest.

If anything, it intensified.

Just watching him, in his own little world, focused on his food, casually chiming into the conversation every now and then between bites--it just did something to you. Something you couldn’t explain.

The way the veins in his hands tensed with each movement, the confident aura that surrounded him, regardless of what he was doing, was just fucking intoxicating.

And so, while caught in a moment of both mental and sexual tension, you discreetly placed your hand on his thigh while continuing to eat, feigning innocence as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Blaise looked over, immediately, and you could practically feel the smirk on his lips.

But then, with his typical Zabini composure, he’d go back to eating, letting you keep your hand there.

As you dared to inch higher, he’d seamlessly continue conversing with his friends, as if entirely unaffected by your advances.

The conversation flowed effortlessly, and to anyone else, it’d seem as though nothing out of the ordinary was transpiring.

At this point, you’d be completely convinced that you were enjoying this more than he was.

But then, as you’d get close to his crotch, dangerously close, he’d lean in, his voice so deep it’d send chills down your spine.

“You better stop.”

You’d grin, slowly moving higher, looking at him with innocent eyes. “Or what?”

“You just wait until I get you alone, babygirl…” he’d smirk, wetting his lips. “I’ll get you back real fucking good.”

Lorenzo Berkshire.

Lorenzo bloody Berkshire; your absolutely sexy, tease of a boyfriend.

Earlier, you had been paired together for an assignment in class, which had turned out to be the most infuriating part of your day.

Enzo was relentless in his teasing; partially because he couldn’t keep his fucking hands off of you, but also because he just loved getting a rise out of you.

All class he’d stared at you with those big brown eyes, biting on his fucking lip as he smirked at you, pressing his crotch against your ass as the two of you gathered supplies for the assignment, acting like he wasn’t doing anything wrong.

By dinner, your head was spinning, your nerves were shot, and you were more than determined to get him back.

And you’d do just that; finding your perfect opportunity while he was casually eating, not really paying you much attention.

You’d shift closer to him, resting your chin on your palm as you fixed your gaze on him, smirking a devilish smirk.

“So, Enz, what do you think of the new charms professor?”

You’d inquire, your voice like honey as it slipped past your lips, your fingers brushing against his leg in unison.

As soon as your hand connected with his thigh, he’d freeze, not daring to look at you, but stalling his movements completely, staring down at his plate as though it’d just grown two legs and spoke to him.

You’d grin, pulling your lip between your teeth in an attempt to hide it, watching him as he’d slowly resume his chewing, his breath coming in shallower bursts as you inched higher, excruciatingly slow.

“I-uh…he’s, he’s good-“ he’d stammer, his voice cracking, clearing his throat to mask it. “Thorough.”

“Oh, thorough, huh?” You’d tease, grin widening. “Why don’t you elaborate on that?”

His jaw would tense, his lids fluttering shut for the briefest moment as you grazed his crotch, adding pressure as to really get back at him, to really give him a taste of his own damn medicine.

He’d be flustered, undoubtedly, but he wouldn’t dare stop you, playing it off until he couldn’t take it anymore.

Then he’d lean in, softly setting his fork down as to not arouse any suspicion.

“My dorm, right now.” He’d practically beg. “I fucking need you.”

Mattheo Riddle.

Teasing Mattheo was not something you did, ever.

Because ‘teasing’, with Mattheo Riddle, was not a concept. It simply did not fucking exist.

You’d attempted it a few times, over your months of dating, and each time you’d found yourself either bent over a table, on your knees for him in a way-too-public location, or edged until you fucking cried/begged for release.

Mattheo never failed to let you know that he’d take you whenever and wherever the fuck he pleased.

‘Don’t poke the dragon’ or ‘let sleeping dogs lie’ ; were very much literal phrases when it came to your boyfriend.

and so you made sure not to tempt him, unless absolutely fucking necessary--However, today, it was more than absolutely fucking necessary.

And why was that, you might ask? Two reasons.

First one being that you’d slept in his dorm last night and woke up late late for class; all thanks to him.

Even though you’d made sure to remind him ten bloody times to set the alarm, he’d somehow still managed to ‘forget’.

And the second one was because he just looked so goddamn fucking sexy, and you were displeased with the fact that you didn’t have time for morning sex.

Regardless, as he was picking at his dinner, looking unbelievably exhausted, you took your chances.

You leaned closer to him discreetly, casually placing your hand on his thigh. He’d instantly tense, legs spreading wider almost involuntarily, grip tightening on his fork.

You’d inch higher, excruciatingly slow, nodding to Blaise as he said something to you, causally entertaining the conversation.

Mattheo’s jaw would tighten, so much it’d genuinely look painful, his head bowing toward the table as you slowly moved upwards.

But then, he’d grow tired of your teasing and grab your wrist, hastily moving it to his dick as he huffed, dropping his fork and running his now-free hand through his hair.

You’d be fuelled on, leaning toward his ear to whisper; “I need you so fucking bad, Matty…”

He’d snuff a groan, his nails digging into your wrist as he continued guiding your hand, guiding you in palming him through his trousers.

“You’re going to regret this, princess…” he’d mutter, his voice torn and laced with promise. “Can’t keep your fucking hands off of me, can you?”

You’d increased your movements, feeling him grow unbelievably hard beneath your fingers, and you’d know he wasn’t bluffing.

“I should bend you over right here, show the boys just what a desperate little slut you are for me….”

You’d smirk, snuffing your giggling, and that would be the last straw. He’d drag you up from the table and fuck you in the nearest closet/empty classroom.

Theodore Nott.

You were fucking bored.

So unbelievably bored that you weren’t sure how much more of it you’d be able to take.

The conversations at the table were about nothing of particular significance, and if you had to endure another second of Enzo’s mindless babbling you were certainly going to be sick.

Theo was seated beside you, aimlessly picking at his food, also looking incredibly bored.

It was not unnoticeable that the two of you were about ready to fall asleep on the damn spot.

In a moment of desperation, you turned to your boyfriend, attempting to spark up a conversation.

“So, what are we planning on doing this weekend?”

As Theo looked up, you’d instantly grow warm, his stormy blue eyes swirling with admiration as he glimpsed your lips, his once flat features beginning to soften.

“Can’t speak for you Bella, but know what I have on the to-do list,” he’d murmur, leaning in for a kiss.

Theo was never one to shy away from PDA.

As your lips met in a quick, soft kiss, you’d smile as he slowly pulled back. “Oh, yeah? And what might that be?”

That’s when you’d put your hand on his thigh, slowly trailing it upwards, instantly causing his eyes to darken, his jaw to tighten.

He’d spread his legs wider, inviting you to keep going, and you’d gladly oblige, palming him eagerly as the two of you held eye-contact intense enough to make you dizzy.

he’d smirk, sucking in shallow breaths as he leaned in for another kiss, muttering against your lips;

“You…you, and you again…”

Someone at the table would playfully groan in disgust and tell you two to get a room, and you’d just laugh before Theo agreed and dragged you back to his dorm.

Tom Riddle.

If you had to listen to one more second of Tom Riddle talking about school related topics, you were going to find the nearest bridge and jump. zero hesitation.

You absolutely loved your boyfriend, loved him to fucking death,

but after he’d spent all afternoon drilling transfiguration concepts into your brain, you honestly just wished he’d drill something else into you, instead.

And by the time dinner rolled around, your brain was mashed potatoes, yet Tom remained completely fucking relentless.

In between bites of food he’d ask you to recite the animagus transformation theory, and when you’d undoubtedly get it wrong, he’d sigh, grabbing the book and reading it back to you.

But no matter how many times he’d repeat it, it didn’t fucking matter, your mind was gone, completely elsewhere.

To be more specific, your mind was lost in a sea of your thoughts, thoughts about Tom’s big strong hands gripping your hips, his strong frame towering over you as he-

Gods, this was complete fucking torture, and you needed it to stop, right now.

Loosening your tie around your neck, you glimpsed him, watching his dark eyes scan the page, watching his long fingers as he pointed at what he was reading to you,

As you undid a few of the buttons on your blouse, your hand fell gracefully, landing on his thigh for support as you leaned over him, looking down at the book,

“Can you repeat that part for me again, Tom?…” you’d murmur, voice a slow drawl, failing to hide your smirk as your felt him tense. “Silly me…I don’t think I heard you correctly…”

Tom would know exactly what you were doing, and at first he’d try to play it off, clearing his throat as he tried to decipher where the fuck he’d left off.

But then, as you continued to inch higher, grazing his crotch, he’d groan, slamming the book shut.

“For Merlin’s sake, you’re a needy little slut, aren’t you?” He’d hiss, the annoyance in his tone mingling with amusement.

“Let’s go before I bend you over the fucking table.”

7K notes · View notes

frenziedfireworks · 8 months

Text

Bad Decisions

Draco Malfoy x Reader

Summary : You get a bit tipsy and seek out the company of the infamous fuckboy, Draco Malfoy.

CW : SMUT, 18+ Characters, Praise/Degrading kink, spitting in mouth, creampie/breeding kink, a few slaps, drunk!draco & reader, it's smut with a tiny bit of plot LMFAO, typical draco ego as well

masterlist

The lights blared as you chugged another drink. Your face felt hot and your blurry vision skimmed the crowd for white hair. You knew it was wrong and yet you had still came in hopes of seducing him. You knew his reputation and yet you really could care less.

Your eyes landed upon the infamous Slytherin and you practically drooled. His suit clung to his form and his grin made your heart flutter. He had to be yours tonight and you would stop at nothing to make that come true. Your feet walked over to him before your mind could even process.

“Draco..” You whispered and his cool eyes met yours. His friends seemed to have an amused smile as they pushed him away and continued the conversation by themselves.

“Y/N, I didn’t take you for a party-goer.” Draco’s speech slurred and you just shrugged. “Maybe I had a reason.” Draco’s eyebrow raised at the comment and his fingers came to trace your arm.

“Care to enlighten me?” His face was desperately close to yours now and you could smell the fire whiskey.

“How about I show you instead?” You gripped at his wrist and leaned in for a kiss. Draco was quick to respond, his hands yanking at your waist and the other trailing the bottom of your shirt.

“You know I won’t be able to stop.” His grunts filled your ears as you grinded up against his erection. Your hips were sure to be bruised tomorrow with the pressure of his grip.

“Then don’t stop.” You whispered and Draco all but groaned. He pulled you along through the crowd and out of the party. Before you knew it you were being thrown against his dorm bed.

You watched in awe as he whipped the door locked and slowly took off his shirt. His eyes never left yours as his hand messed with the zipper of his pants and he smirked.

“Tell me what you want.” You all but moaned as his trousers hit the floor and your mind fluttered with even more sinful thoughts. “I don’t have all day princess. Use your words.” Draco’s hand trailer across the bottom of your leg and you bit your lip. This is what you wanted after all.

“You.”

Your simple words seemed to work because Draco was everywhere at once. His lips trailed down your neck as he frantically rid you of your clothes. Your hands gripped at his hair as his tongue circled your pert nipples and he smirked.

“You like that? You want more?” He bit at the flesh of your breasts as his fingers traced the hem of your panties. You were well aware of the wet spot growing and how bad you needed him in you. You bucked your hips into him and pleas started to leave your mouth.

“Draco.. Draco please. I need you so bad.” Your hands clawed at his boxers and he all but shook his head.

“So desperate. I knew you’d come to me sooner or later.” Usually his egotistical comments would rub you the wrong way but you couldn’t even care in the moment. The only thing your fuzzy brain could think about was getting railed by the man on top of you.

“J-just fuck me!” You rasped and his chuckles filled the air. He didn’t need to say anything because he actions spoke louder than any words. You felt your panties being ripped off you and watched as his cock slapped against his stomach. His eyes devoured your nude form before leaning closer. His shaft rubbed through your folds and your head flew back. You couldn’t take his teasing.

“Dray-“

“Be quiet before I shove my cock down your throat.” Draco’s hand slapped at your thigh and his tip prodded into your entrance. You felt your eyes widen as he pushed fully in, bottoming out in a delicious fashion. Your walls clenched and Draco moaned.

“Keep that up and I won’t last five minutes.” His voice was hoarse as he slowly began to pull in and out. Your body jolted as his pace got more rough and desperate and you felt any thoughts you had slipping away.

“Fuckkk.. Take it. Take it like a good girl. Knew you’d love my cock.” Draco’s hand gripped at your jaw, opening your mouth. You watched as he spat and forcibly closed your lips. “Swallow.” You did as he said, moaning as he slapped your hip and smirked. “Good fucking whore.”

You felt the string in your stomach get tighter and tighter with each thrust. Draco’s pace became more sloppy and you knew both of you were on the verge.

“Fuck darling. C-can I cum in you?” Draco all but whispered as he chased his own high. You nodded quickly and clung to his body as his fingers rubbed at your sensitive nub. “F-fuck. I’m cumming. Take it..” Draco’s pace faltered and you felt his warm ropes of white fill you, your body finally reaching its euphoria.

Your body relaxed against the bed and you turned to get comfortable in the sheets. Draco slid in next to you and pulled the curtains around the bed for your privacy.

“Thanks darling. We should do that more often.” Draco’s voice cut through the silence. You rolled your eyes as you yawned. Tonight was not your best decision but you weren’t exactly denying the thought of another round.

“I’ll think about it Malfoy.”

“I’m sure you will.”

#draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy imagines #draco malfoy smut #draco malfoy x reader smut #draco malfoy x you smut #harry potter imagine #harry potter imagines

2K notes · View notes

myers-meadow · 9 months

Text

Lucius Malfoy x fem! reader: That which isn't taught in books

Title: That which isn't taught in books

Pairing: Lucius Malfoy x female librarian reader

Summary: Draco complains about you, the Hogwarts librarian, to his father. This results in the beautiful Lucius Malfoy paying you an unexpected visit. He is rather taken with you, and he shows you things you can't simply learn from books: your place.

Warnings: smut, blowjob, cum, spit, vaginal fingering, degradation, rough kissing, use of 'slut', praise, gloves, Lucius is Lucius and a that's a warning on it's own, consent isn't discussed but reader is into it, manhandling, (suspected) cheating, hair pulling (assumed reader has hair that can be pulled).

Wordcount: 3699

Dividers by by animated-glitter-graphics-n-more and delishlydelightfuldividers.

“Miss __, you must to lend me this book. I need it for class.” Draco Malfoy ordered, pointing to the book on top of the stack on your right. Third years aren’t typically allowed to borrow advanced books on dark magic, so it wasn’t on the shelves for him to take with a reason.

“No,” you simply replied, removing book from the stack and sending it to the topmost shelf with a wave of your wand. “That’s a restricted book and you need a permission slip from the headmaster before borrowing it.”

Draco scoffed. “I know you let Granger use the library outside the allowed hours.”

How could the damned kid know about that? What a menace.

“The book is still restricted.”

“Do you know who my family is?” Draco said, tapping the desk impatiently.

“Yes, I know your parents quite well. We are old friends, in fact,” you said, which was a lie. The Malfoys are well-known, and you’ve run into them before. Unpleasant was the best word for it, and you were glad the moment you didn’t have to deal with them anymore. Narcissa was alright, perfectly poised and therefore polite – but still raised rich and pureblood. Lucius, on the other hand, gave you nightmares that night. Even worse that you woke up wet between your thighs.

Draco scoffed, sending you a nasty look. “We will see about that, miss __.”

You sighed as he turned around and marched away.

It was later that week that the Hogwarts library had a surprise visit from a tall, white-haired man that reminded you so very much of the pest that was Draco Malfoy.

“So this is where the students are expected to borrow their books from,” said the cold voice, heavy with poorly veiled contempt. “Hogwarts seems to spend their funds… otherwise.”

“Good evening, sir,” you started, tone flat. “Have you come here to take a look around? I assure you our collection is larger than it seems here at the front desk.”

He raised an eyebrow, only now looking at you. “Miss __,” and even that alone sounds like he chastised you, “I’ve come here because of what my son told me of your behaviour. You pick on him and single him out, while the rest of the students are allowed to break school rules at will.”

Your shoulders tensed. So he was really here because of that small ordeal. And above all, it pissed you off that he didn’t even feel the need to introduce himself properly. Of course you knew who he was, but that he expected you to still remember him was infuriating.

“I see. Then you should be pleased to know that I don’t allow any student to break the rules, which includes your son. I do not play favourites.”

An amused smile played at the corner of his lip. “Is that so?”

“Yes, sir.” Your tone remained flat. Despite that, it was difficult not to let your eyes wander. Gods, did he dress up this fancy just to give you a stern talking to? He was delicious. With the snake tie pin mirroring the glittering of his cold gaze, the full three piece suit that wouldn’t look out of place at a funeral, and the leather gloves he wore even though he had to cross half the castle to get here.

You continued, taking a deep breath to steel yourself – he noticed, his gaze flickering to your chest. “You may be under the impression, Mr. Malfoy, that professors of this school are easily pressured by empty threats, to give your son a leniency that I refuse to show him. This visit won’t change that, so I’d suggest you save yourself the time.”

He raised an eyebrow, looking down at you past his nose. You were glad for the library desk separating the two of you, or you’d back away from him like a scared animal.

“I do not appreciate your tone,” he said, each word perfectly measured, low and menacing. Your adrenaline spiked, and your knees trembled. He leaned forward, and you fought the urge to take a step back. Even just that thought, of backing of, of yielding to him, he must’ve seen it cross your face, and smirked in response, clearly enjoying the hold he had on you.

A group of Hufflepuffs entered the library, giggling to themselves, until they saw the standoff you were in. “Let’s just come again later,” one suggested, and they left quickly, whispering to each other. You nodded at them, and moved your gaze back to the imposing man in front of you. From this close, you could smell the perfume he wore. Something warm like sandalwood mixed with citrus. Fuck, he was insanely attractive. Touching him would feel like the most luxurious velvet.

“I suggest,” he leaned in even closer over the desk, you felt the warmth of his breath fan your face, “that from now on, you make sure you assist in Draco’s education and let him borrow whatever books he wants.”

“If he has the right permission slip from the headmaster, Draco can borrow any book he likes. Without it, he can’t.” You could barely focus on his words with how close he was. “If you knew the book in question, you’d agree with my approach and be glad that I didn’t have a conversation about Draco’s interest of late.”

“And what book may that be, miss?”

“Forbidden hexes and curses. And he’s practiced some too, already. One may think he’s… a bit too interested in the Dark Arts.” You clacked your tongue and pushed yourself off of the desk, trying to clear your head. “It wasn’t a beginner’s book either.”

Lucius quirked an eyebrow and looked you up and down. “Perhaps we should discuss this matter somewhere more… private.”

His velvety voice made your insides flip in nervous anticipation, which you attempted to calm with little success. So, that approached worked. The value purebloods place on image was such an easy win, but it felt good to hear his tone soften.

“My office is there.”

He moved around the desk and went first, waiting for you to move around him and open the door for him. Once inside, he shut and locked the door, and with a quick wave of his wand, the blinds shut themselves. His small smirk as he looked at you then was nothing short of predatory.

“Draco told me so much about you,” his voice was even more hypnotising than before, and he knew the effect he had on you as you breathed in sharply. He walked around you slowly, taking you in completely. Surely this was another intimidation technique of his, so you force yourself to stand your ground.

“He has?” you echo, not seeing the point of it, but wanting to delay the threats and the fight – and that deliciously wrong feeling of anticipation was building steadily inside your lower belly.

“The librarian,” his voice was smooth as silk, “who is so attractive that it keeps the students from their studies. A Slytherin, but surprisingly, you don’t know who or what is good for you.”

It sounds like he’s insulting you again. He stood still right in front of you, a finger coming to rest on your cheek. The contempt has returned to his expression, along with something else.

“You dress… well. Draco said you looked inappropriate, but he is just a boy. He gets silly ideas too quickly.” Lucius’ voice has softened considerably. The way you looked up at him made you feel like a deer caught in the headlights, not knowing whether to fight, flight or fawn – and the result is that you did nothing.

“Your concern for my appearance is noted, sir,” you managed to say. “Is that why you really came all this way? To make sure your son’s librarian dresses appropriately?”

A small chuckle broke the silence. “I must admit, you are more alluring than he said you were. Perhaps we can solve this disagreement in a more pleasurable manner. If you can learn your place, that is.”

You stared at him. The gloved finger tapping your cheek moved to your lips, slipping between them. The smell of the leather was strong and made your head swim.

“Or should I make it clearer for you? On your knees.” His condescending tone was unlike anything you’ve heard before: alluring, yet cruel. The velvet softness of his voice contrasted with the way he looked down at you past his nose. Such a regal face…

When you didn’t immediately obey, he pushed you down by your shoulders. The floor was cold even through the fabric of your skirt. The tip of his cane tapped your cheek lightly, but it was threat enough.

You gulped. Looking up at him from this angle was a sight to see, his amused expression, the smell of him, the texture of his glove in your hair were as intimidating as they were arousing.

“What’s the matter? I’m sure a big girl like you knows what to do.” His leather clad hand tugged open his belt and ripped open the buttons without a second of hesitation. His eyes glinted darkly with lust. Only when he tugged his cock free from his underwear, did you look away from his eyes. He was gorgeous, pulsing, rigid, the head flushed with blood, with just one teardrop of precum at the slit. Doubting your actions, you reached a hand up to grip him. Warm. Thick, too.

“Are you just going to sit there? Open.”

You obeyed, instinctively, and he groaned lowly as he slid his cock in your waiting mouth. Wetting the underside of his cock with your tongue, you teased the bit of skin just under the head, making it bounce against the roof of your mouth. His breaths came sharply, slowly turning to soft sounds of pleasure. He slid in and out as you sucked him, moving your lips along his shaft. Clearly he held back in showing just how good you made him feel – and your determination grew. You teased the head with vigour, and before you could settle on a rhythm, he forced himself in deep. Gagging and trying to swallow around him, he groaned, and the sound went straight to your core. Shifting your thighs together to relieve the throbbing ache wasn’t close to enough. Lucius set a punishing pace for himself, deep and fast. In and out, and his length grew wetter and wetter with saliva and precum.

“What a pretty girl you are,” praised Lucius, in between hissed breaths and stifled groans. He held your head back by the hair then, and pulled your lips from his cock.

“You were made for this. Know just how to please your superior.”

A cruel gleam shone in his eye as he looked down on you, and he rubbed his cock over your face, coating it in your spit. His words rang true in a way that made you whimper pathetically. The humiliation burned. You broke out in a heated sweat, but the terrible empty throbbing of your cunt was enough for you to stay put. He pulls your head back on his cock, immediately pushing into your throat again.

“Just like that, sweetheart,” he groans. The satisfied sadism in his expression has you dripping. “What great things even you can accomplish if you receive the right guidance.”

His ‘guidance’ came in the form of an insistent hand fisted in your hair as he fucked your face, without any care for your comfort. Now that his length was wet and slimy, it went in easier, but it still made you gag. You tried your best to hollow your cheeks, wanting to prove to him how good you could be. A small part of you, at the back of your mind, was disgusted by your actions and more so by how easily Lucius exploited your submissive streak. Yet, when you glanced up and saw the pleasure etched into his face, that voice quieted down. He looked sinfully good from this angle, and you enjoyed it through tearful eyes as he pushed at your gag reflex once again. In, out, slower, feeling the drag of your tongue on the underside of his cock, and moaning filth behind clenched teeth. Then, having enough of your tongue, his pace increased, pushing into your deeper and without mercy.

Eventually he let out a satisfied groan, and he pulled out from your mouth, drool spilling onto your blouse, and he stroked himself to completion, groaning harshly as he came. Hot, sticky ropes of cum painted your face. You gasped at how unexpected of and end it was, face burning at how degrading it was to sit there and take it, stunned at the audacity of this man. It may be true that you craved this from the moment you first met him, but that didn’t change that it made you feel both disgusting and desired like nothing else could.

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it, filthy girl?” His gloved hand twisted in your hair, angling your face so he could admire you. “You will leave this as it is. Merlin, you enjoy this, don’t you? Made such a mess of yourself. Filthy fucking slut.”

His words came through gritted teeth, and you feel the strength he’s holding back as he forced you to stand by your hair. You yelped. The cum left a nasty pulling sensation on the skin as it started to dry. You felt used, so used, and his disgust showed clearly on his face. Nevertheless, he pulled you close, forcing your head to his and he kissed you, with open mouth against your cum covered lips. Without a care that his cum smeared his face as well as yours, and the bitter aftertaste that it left in his mouth, he devoured you hungrily.

“Open your mouth,” he ordered, voice rough. You obeyed. The moan he let out as he pressed his lips to yours again was the most lewd sound you’d ever heard. Your tongues entwined, the taste of his seed mingling with saliva. It was gross, but in the best way. You made him like this, was the thought that shot through your mind, you made him gross and lose control. And you did all of that just by being you.

Teeth clashed and you winced, but he barely seemed to notice. He was so rough, so uncoordinated, yet it was the hottest thing you ever felt. Spirals and sparks of heat radiated in your belly. The hand in your hair let go, to great relief, and wrapped around your throat instead. The kiss grew fiercer still. He consumed you. All of you. His teeth tugged at your lips, nipping harshly enough for small stings of pain, but they were soothed over with the warmth of his tongue. His nose pressed against your face with how far he leant into you, how harshly he pulled your face against his.

This hunger was a world away from his earlier disgust.

When he let go, his pupils were blown wide, his cheeks flushed, passionate and heated. He wiped the cum from his nose and lips, and licked it from his gloved fingers. Your eyes fluttered just at the sight of him. And it was you who caused this, who brought out this side of him, all dishevelled, messy, stained… All for you.

“It seems you do know your place well, dear librarian. How about a reward, then? Do you think you deserve one?”

All you could do was nod.

He pushed you back until your ass hit your desk, and he lifted you up until you were seated. “Legs wide. Good girl.” He spread your thighs as he stood between them. His gloved fingers dragged over the sensitive skin of your innermost thigh. You were positively throbbing. Have you ever felt arousal this strong while completely untouched? You hated him for it.

“Please, Mr. Malfoy,” you whimpered, already growing impatient.

Tugging at the cotton of your panties, he said, not a question, but an order: “Why don’t you take those off for me.”

You stumbled to comply. Before you could say anything, he silenced you by sliding two fingers in your mouth, and you wet them without being prompted to. The leather tasted like his cum, bitter. The texture was pleasant on your tongue. He hummed, pleased, as he slid his fingers out.

“Who knew you’d be such a quick student? But then again, they do say librarians have a wide variety of knowledge.” And his finger found your clit. “How’s that?”

You whined sharply as he increased the pressure, but didn’t move his fingers, still depriving me of the friction I craved.

“Or rather here?” and he slid his fingers to your slit, dipping in, before moving back up, bringing the slick with them. “Aren’t you a wet little slut.”

His middle finger slid in to the knuckle, with embarrassing ease. You moaned softly, brow furrowing. It felt right. So right. So perfect. This is what you were made for, for such a feeling, of being filled, of being used by a man as beautiful as Lucius Malfoy. Your eyes locked and your heart skipped a beat at the intensity of his stare.

“What a sensitive young woman you are,” he said, voice soft, yet with a darkness to it. “No one’s touched you this good before. And no one will, after.”

He pulled his finger almost out, then pushed it back in, setting himself a slow and deep rhythm, curling it deep inside. Each time he hit that spot inside, your gasps and moans became a little higher, a little more desperate. You clung onto his shoulders, and he leaned so close your noses touched.

“You look quite beautiful like this… Who knew it would be this fun to put a librarian in her place?” it almost seemed he talked to himself moreso than to you. One finger became two, but his pace remained the same. Steady, in, out, in, curling, out. The drag of his gloves made it even better, and when you looked down, they were wet and creamy from how wet you were. You whimpered as he followed your line of sight, and slammed back in harder. And harder. Now that his pace was steadily increasing, so were the sensations, growing hotter quick. He tipped you over the edge and you nearly screeched – but he kept going, the orgasm prolonging itself until you reached a second high, so high it was painful - and he moaned along with you, slowing but not pulling out. When he finally stilled, both of your breaths were sharp, as though you’d just ran up five flights of stairs. He kissed you again, messily, as he pumped in and out just a few more times, enjoying the twitches of your aftershocks.

“What a good girl,” he purred, and he pulled out. The feeling of emptiness was jarring and you clenched around nothing. His fingers slipped past your lips, and you sucked them clean obediently. “What a good girl,” he repeated, with emphasis and a fond undertone. “Perhaps there’s hope for you yet.”

Even after coming down from the orgasm, the hazy feeling stayed, making your head swim as you looked at the man in front of you. He kissed you again, and it was borderline uncomfortable with the drying cum still on your face. He was softer, a wet kiss, he was savouring you.

“I dearly hope this isn’t the last I’ll see of you, my sweet librarian,” he said, and before he left, with a wave of his wand, he grabbed your panties and left with a last, lingering look over his shoulder. “Although I expect you to behave from now on.”

Before you went to sleep that night, you replayed what happened over and over again, and despite the unsatisfiable desire, there was also anger. This man has a wife! You were livid. How could he do this? Not even the degradation – but that you let yourself be treated like that by a man who has a wife!

The next day, during your lunchbreak, the largest bouquet of roses you had ever seen was delivered to the library. There must’ve been more flowers in it than in the entire flower shop in Hogsmeade. The ridiculous arrangement sat on the desk, crowding over all the books. The delivery witch had you sign for them, but refused to tell you who they were from. You shook your head, as you sank down on your chair, staring at them. You didn’t have a vase big enough.

While you were preparing and cutting the stems, you found a note. ‘L. M.’ Was all it said and it filled you with annoyance.

Lucius. Your eyes shot fire at the mention of his name. How dare he play this off in this way. What a condescending gesture, to buy you roses just to stake some sort of claim on you. To remind you of what the two of you did the day before, to keep you in line. Resolutely, you throw the note in the paper bin. Perhaps you should send him a note too, and tell him to save those roses for his wife.

Now what? This many wouldn’t even fit in any garbage bin - not without attracting a horrible amount of attention. Perfectly pristine flowers thrown away would cause enough drama, more than keeping them would. So you, sigh, and continue trimming the stems, getting your anger out with each snip. There was enough to set a few flowers in small vases, or mugs, when those ran out, on each table in the library. The anger had faded by the time it was done, and you looked out over the suddenly very colourful library. Who will water them each morning? You’d never get around to your actual job like this.

What was left of the encounter, was that nagging feeling, of being special. Special enough to have watched such a powerful man as Lucius Malfoy become undone. You smiled softly as you stacked several returned books in your arms. Perhaps this wasn’t over yet.

#lucius malfoy #lucius malfoy x reader #lucius malfoy smut #lucius malfoy fanfic #lucius malfoy fanfiction #lucius malfoy x you #harry potter fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fandom #lucius malfoy imagine #harry potter #death eaters #lucius malfoy x female reader

1K notes · View notes

lovebotmo · 3 months

Text

like the movies

chapter four - the feathered visitor

series masterlist

pairing: theodore nott x reader

wc: 1675

author's note: so so grateful that you guys are enjoying the story so far!!! its been incredible to be inspired and motivated when it comes to writing. i appreciate those who let me know they want to be on the taglist - lmk if anyone else wants to be added!!!

also if i missed someone my apologies!!! first time putting a tag list together hehe

song inspiration: how sweet it is (to be loved by you) by marvin gaye

Clambering into the compartment containing your friends after separating from Theo, you are greeted with expectant silence. Ten eyes peer at you with varying emotions; curiosity, caution, surprise, excitement, and intrigue all seem to swim in the faces of your dear friends.

Slapping your hands onto your knees, you smile nervously at them. “Well, what is it?”

“Don’t keep us waiting!” urges Hannah, who’s practically vibrating with excitement. “What was that all about? Running after Nott of all people.”

Your brows furrow unconsciously, “What d’you mean?”

Ginny laughs at your apparent confusion. “Nuh uh, Y/n. We all saw you go after Nott, no need to be coy now.” She winks cheekily at you. “Are you two seeing each other?”

You sputter at her brashness, “Me and Theo? There’s—”

“It’s Theo now, is it?” Padma asks. “When did he become Theo, eh?” Padma nudges your shoulder with her own.

“Oh, shove it, Pads!” You could practically feel the red rising in your face and neck at the undivided attention now being paid to your very short, tiny, essentially minimal interaction with a male specimen. You felt like a research subject whenever your friends interrogated you like this. “I was just worried Theo was going to miss the train—a very normal thing to be worried about considering he’s my potion partner and I bloody well can’t use his brain if he’s stranded in Hogsmeade! Besides,” you said, pulling at the sleeves of your wooly sweater, “that fight between Malfoy and him looked downright awful.” At that, the girls abruptly halted their aggressive probing, uneasily remembering the spat that had taken place very publicly in The Three Broomsticks. All, except for Luna, who continued to peer at you with that typical all-knowing, dreamy look of hers that seemed to suggest she knew better.

As if there’s anything going on between Theo and me. I barely know the guy…or almost barely know him…kind of know him?

Shaking the disorganized thoughts from your head, you turned to the girls to continue the conversation that had abruptly stopped at the tavern. A train ride filled with trolley sweets, gossip, and uncontrollable laughter soon led to your arrival at Hogwarts, just in time for the evening meal.

Retiring to your room shortly after dinner, you found that your housemates’ beds were empty. You guess that they were likely meandering around the grounds before curfew. You savored the silence and stillness of the room. However, all too soon, it was interrupted by an odd sort of sound.

Clink.

At first you ignored it, thinking something had just shifted in your room.

Clink…Clink.

This time, your eyes swept across the room, searching for whatever could be causing that sound. It didn’t sound like a water drip, someone in heels, or even coins moving around in a coin purse.

Clinkclinkclinkclink!

As the sound increased in volume and frequency, you realized it was coming from the window of all places, even though you were elevated relatively high in the tower containing your bedchamber. That is to say, no person could have been outside your room without the aid of a broom or the flying charm. You cursed under your breathe that the window was glazed, meaning you couldn’t see what lay on the other side. Undergoing a momentary crisis of whether you should open the window, you decided in a split-second to just open it and hope for the best. However, you made sure to grab your wand.

Can’t be too careful now, can we, Y/n?

Your hand grasped at the brass handle, quickly swinging the frame open. An autumnal evening gust of wind greeted you, along with something else.

What the fuck.

Perching on your windowsill, was a quaint tawny owl peering at you rather oddly. The bird cocked its brown and white feathered head as you did the same.

What the devil is a bloody owl doing up here? “I don’t suppose you intended to come up here, did you?” Looking at the owl, you noticed it was clutching something in its claws, a small parcel of sorts. “Is that for me?”

As if answering, the owl flew past you and landed on your desk. Its head cocked once more as if wondering whether you were going to join it or not. Realizing you were standing dumbly in front of the window and letting all the warm air out, you shut it. You did not lock it, however, anticipating that your feathered friend would be departing shortly.

You joined the owl at your desk, sitting in your chair. You were now eye level with the mysterious bird, its dark eyes gazing into your own.

“May I?” you inquired, gesturing towards the little package in its clutches. The fowl relented, gently releasing it onto the wood of your desk. Before allowing yourself to rip into the bundle, you pulled out a small cannister of crickets you kept in one of your desk drawers for when you visited your own owl in the aviary. Lightly placing it in front of the owl, you allowed it to treat itself while opening the unknown gift.

Inside, you found a small package of caramel creams, just like those you had gifted to Mr. Flume a few short hours ago.

“How…?” You looked to the bird who was still pleasing itself with your offering of crickets.

You couldn’t begin to wonder at who would have known to gift you that particular candy, who would have noticed your quick interaction among the thick throng of students that had filled Honeydukes earlier. No one had stood out to you in the little time you had spent in the candy store, wholly preoccupied with your candy exchange.

Where could they have even bought it from? It’s not like Mr. Flume even stocks this specific sweet, no matter how much I may beg the man to.

“You must have been flying for ages to bring these to me, I reckon.”

“Hoot.”

Laughing at the short, clipped response of the owl, your eyes noticed a small piece of parchment paper within the parcel. Grasping and opening it quickly, your eyes were met with the same script you had seen on the previous note that had accompanied the moly bouquet currently residing on your nightstand. Once more, the note was succinct and saccharine.

Y/n,

Sweets for you, sweetheart.

Yours,

Teddy

“Seems your owner fancies me,” you said to the owl as you carefully refolded the note. “I don’t suppose you would be able to give me a clue as to who they are?”

“Hoot.”

Sighing, you replied, “Alright, alright. I won’t badger you for answers.” You rose from your chair, intending to allow the plumed messenger to return to the aviary. The bird flew from its perch on your desk to your shoulder, its head gently rubbing against your cheek. You smiled at the little show of affection. Once more, you opened your window, allowing your avian visitor to rejoin the skies. Looking back at the caramel creams and clutching the note to your chest, a warm feeling began to leak out of your heart. Whoever your admirer was, he was rather…sweet.

A few caramel creams later, you were sprawled on your bed and surrounded by your friends as you recounted the entire rendezvous with the tawny owl. You shared the sweets among your friends, but you kept the contents of the note to yourself. Your friends had already seen the first note and none of them had recognized the handwriting. There was no harm done, really.

Besides, you thought, it’s kind of nice to keep something between just me and this elusive ‘Teddy.’

“You didn’t recognize the owl, did you?” asked Ginny. “Godric knows everybody can tell when I’ve sent an owl. That bloody bird, Errol, is hard to miss.” She gives you a vexed look that makes you chuckle.

“No, it looked like any other owl I’d have seen in the aviary. Anyway, there are hundreds of owls here, they’re not exactly easy to differentiate.”

“Well,” Padma says, “at the very least, we know that your little admirer is a third year or older.”

Hannah’s face shows her confusion, “How do you figure?”

“They were in Honeydukes, weren’t they?” Padma shrugs, “Whoever he is, he has to be, at minimum, thirteen years old to go to Hogsmeade.”

Groaning, you flop back onto your bed, hands covering your face in dismay. “Blimey, I hadn’t even considered it might be someone younger than me. What if it is a third year? Fucking hell, I’ll never be able to live it down.”

Moving your hands from your face, Hermione smiles gently at you. “If it is a third year, which I seriously doubt, you’ll be gentle in letting them down. No big deal.”

“I’d be a laughingstock, ‘Mione,” you say grumpily.

“No, you won’t, Y/n,” replies Hannah. “Besides, it’s just the six of us that knows, right?”

“About that…” Ginny looks at you sheepishly. “I may or may not have possibly, accidentally let it slip when I was perhaps…potentially talking with Lavender…”

The redhead’s confession gets you to shoot up quickly from your horizontal position. “You did what?” You toss at a pillow at her, which, with her incredible athleticism, she easily intercepts. You frown. “Lavender is possibly the worst gossip I’ve ever met. I’d be surprised if Filch didn’t know about it.”

“It was an accident, promise!” Ginny exclaims, “Lavender asked if you were seeing anybody—I think she’s interested in Lee Jordan—so, I suppose she was trying to determine whether or not you were—”

“Ginny.”

“…Yes, Y/n?”

“I’m going to give you until the count of three.”

“Count of three—what for?”

“One.”

“Oh please, Y/n. I didn’t mean to—”

“Two.”

“For the love of Merlin—”

“Three.” At your last count, you sprint at the girl who starts to run from you as you chase her with your wand. She sharts to shriek with laughter, dashing as far from your incurrent wrath as possible.

“You’re going to get it, Weasley!”

taglist: @melllinaa, @randomgurl2326, @lovelyygirl8, @abaker74, @mypolicemanharryyy, @vanevafu, @laceandsuch, @agent-tempest, @themarauderswife7 & @adoraspace

226 notes · View notes

stationintern · 2 months

Text

Hello there!

I spent Valentine's Day ruining patrons' nights at my restaurant by telling them our computers were down, but what can you do, you know? Other than that, February was a good time. I was able to read a lot more, and prepare a more in depth list for you, even if it's short.

Hope you enjoy!

Bridges by @cavendishbutterfly E, 16.1k

Reading this felt like getting a personal tour of Budapest. The reverence the author has for the location shines through and gives you a lovely look at a new location. I find Harry exploring his sexuality abroad especially interesting- as if being somewhere else allows him a sort of freedom he wouldn't find at home. There's an appreciation for beer in this fic that I appreciate, since beer is one of life's greatest treasures. I especially loved Cho Chang being a main character in this fic. I love seeing her being utilized in such a fun way when she was done so dirty by she who shall not be named.

Thickets by @wolfpants E, 17k

There are some insane lines in this (very positive), along with some very fun portrait dialogue. Gut-wrenching and extremely intimate. Some scenes can leave you feeling like you're intruding on a very personal moment as a reader. I love a Harry Potter who's a bit obsessed with Draco. ALSO, this fic contains one of the hottest wet dreams I've ever read. Do with that what you will.

Polar Night/Midnight Sun by toomuchplor E, 54.3k

Harry is very horny. Like, at times, this fic is so sexually charged it's almost unbearable. In a very good way. The clothing descriptions make me want to touch those mittens and hats so bad. I know they'd be soft and so fucking squishy. A few things this fic includes: one bed, a lack of magic, for a while, that is perfectly reasonable, and Harry's thing for Draco's teeth (they're like a military cemetery, if you even care.) Also, the sexual allure of someone struggling to get into an attic (I get it,) and Draco's daddy issues (typical but welcomed.) Diagnosis: Extensive therapy. For everyone. Even the dog. ALSO, these boys have STAMINA.

Recursion by @tessacrowley E, 132.5k

As I said in a previous post, "Sometimes you just have to zap Draco Malfoy into the past and let him live for years as the wizard Young Sheldon." This fic will give you WHIPLASH, but it won't be nearly as bad as Draco's. This boy(man?) goes through it. Absolutely engrossing. I couldn't stop reading until I was finished. I love a good canon rewrite, and @tessacrowley has now written my two favorite fics in that genre. Their characterization of Draco is always spot-on in whatever context they put him in. Show-stopping, fantastic, wonderful.

See you next month! XX, Moon.

#drarry fic rec #draco x harry #drarry #drarry fic #moons monthly fic recs

156 notes · View notes

suugarbabe · 9 months

Note

I love the twins too!

Imagine Draco practicing the imperious curse o! different students and he does it on the reader and she starts acting differently but one of the twins (you choose 😉) notices and tells everyone and they try to break her out of it but he is the only one who can because she’s in love with him … or something like that lol

Ohh interesting interesting… I’ll give it a go

Under the Influence

pairing: Fred Weasley x Y/n

Warnings: None, lil fluffy

Things had been getting weird at Hogwarts. This year the school was hosting the TriWizard Tournament, and the school got yet another new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Professor Moody was not like the typical DADA professors that came through. It was rumored that he showed the fourth years all three unforgivable curses. Fred could only laugh in disbelief when his brother told him.

“I’m being serious!” Ron squeaked, still a little unnerved, “He showed us all three and he used a…spider.” He whispered the last word like it was more foul than the curses themselves. George rolled his eyes, “You’ve really got to get over that Ronald. Makes you look like a wuss.” Ron rolled his eyes, mumbling to himself before starting to stuff his face.

You walked up to your seat next to Fred to find the three brothers still discussing the events of the DADA class, as well as Ron’s fear of spiders. “You know Ronald you really should get over that fear,” you chimed in, the twins stifling a laugh. Ron finally piped up, “Moody really is mad, I’m telling you. Him showing us these curses like it’s no big deal is gonna cause the Slytherins to start bloody trying them.”

You scoffed, “Don’t even say that Ron, they can’t do that.” Ron raised his eyebrows, “I heard Malfoy was trying the imperius curse on some first years.” Your jaw dropped, moving to stand from the table “Absolutely not, where is that vile piece of sh-”.

“Woah there, love, sit back down,” Fred laughed, grabbing your hips and making you sit back down on the bench. You huffed crossing your arms and pouting slightly, “The next time I see Malfoy, he’s fucking done for.” Fred patted your head, “Okay darling, just be careful.”

———————

You had your head down as you were leaving potions, thinking about all the homework you had to complete that evening. As you turned the corner your body slammed into someone, nearly knocking both you and the other to the ground. You heard a scoff as a sinister voice scolded you, “Watch where you’re bloody going, Y/l/n.” You looked up to see none other than Draco Malfoy. You rolled your eyes, picking up your textbook you dropped on the ground, “Having fun torturing innocent first years, ferret boy?”

Malfoy glared at you, “Oh I’m having the most fun, but I bet I’d have more fun doing it to you.” You stood your ground in front of him, “You don’t have the fucking balls to do shit to me, Malfoy.” With that you pushed past him, starting to walk toward your next class. You didn’t make it five steps before you felt a tingling sensation come over you, then a blanket feeling of calm and relaxation, like you were in a trance. You felt someone’s breath on your neck before you heard Malfoy’s voice in your ear, “Looks like I’ve got more than you anticipated, Y/l/n.”

Your brain was telling you to freak out. To run, to scream, to do anything of your own free will but you couldn’t. You went to the rest of your classes in a trance, not fully being able to pay attention and just going through the motions. When it was time for dinner you walked toward the great hall like you always did, walking up to your table. Fred smiled at you, scooting over for you to take your usual seat next to him.

You ignored him, going to the other side of the table to sit next to Ron. You were friendly with Ron, but you were the twins' friends first. Fred’s smile fell, “Y/n/n, what are you doing?” You didn’t look up from your plate as you spoke, “Sitting next to the cutest Weasley.” Ron’s cheeks immediately flushed pink and George and Fred both looked at each other with utter confusion. Ron was opening and closing his mouth like he was trying to respond but you cut him off, “Don’t talk Weasle-be”. Fred tilted his head at the nickname, something felt off to him.

He looked past you and Ron to see Malfoy staring at you from the Slytherin table. “Hey, Y/n, did you ever run into Malfoy today like you planned?” Fred saw a smirk curl onto Malfoy’s face from across the great hall as you shook your head, “Nope, haven’t seen him.” He huffed, not quite satisfied with your answer, though the others seemed to shrug their shoulders and continue on with their meal. As dinner concluded you got up and started heading back toward your dorm.

The others followed shortly after you. Fred quickly caught up to you, grabbing your arm and pulling you off to the side as the others continued to pass. “Are you okay, y/n? You seem a little…off?” You shook your head, “I’m not off, I’m perfectly fine.” Your tone of voice was flat. You wanted so badly to scream but you just couldn’t force yourself to do anything. Fred quirked an eyebrow, “You don’t seem like yourself, love.” You widened your eyes slightly, the most control you felt like you had. You tried to pull yourself out of the curse Malfoy put you under but all you could do is make your eyes get slightly teary.

At this Fred grabbed your arm and quickly got you back to the Gryffindor common room, calling out for Hermione desperately as room as he stepped through the portrait hole with you in tow. He sat you down on the couch as Hermione came rushing down the stairs, “What is it Fred? What’s wrong?” The others were quick to follow her, seeing what the commotion was about.

“It’s y/n, I think somethings wrong. I think she actually did run into Malfoy today. I bet he used the imperius curse on her,” Fred was boiling mad, clenching and unclenching his fists. Hermione crossed her arms, “That seems like a stretch doesn’t it, Fred?” George nodded, “Yeah, Freddie, how can you tell?” Fred just shook his head, “I just know. I know this isn’t Y/n.” Your turned to look at Fred and he met your eyes, you could see it in his face how worried he was about you and it made your heart sore. You’ve heard of some witches and wizards being able to break out of the imperius curse on their own and you kept trying, but the best you could do is make yourself stutter over the response that wasn’t truly how you felt, “N-no, Weasle-be I’m f-fine. You can l-leave me alone now.”

At that Hermione’s posture stiffened, “Okay you’re right friend. The only person I’ve ever heard call you guys that is that slime of a boy, Malfoy.” Hermione stood in front of you, taking your hands in hers. You met her eyes as she spoke, “I can tell you’re trying to fight it y/n, you’re struggling saying what I’m sure Malfoy has instructed you for certain situations.” Your eyes welled up again as you involuntarily plastered on a smile.

The ground struggled with how to help you. Hermione educated them on ways to break the curse, that some powerful witches and wizard can break it of their own free will, while other times the curse can last until the caster has died. George, Ron and Harry all agreed to happily kill Draco for his actions. Hermione hit them all on the arm, telling them to be realistic. The last Hermione knew of was the curse just waring off. They discussed how long Draco may have set the curse to last.

Fred shook his head, “That goblin shit could have set it for a day to a month. We can’t just wait around and see.” He turned on the couch to face you, making your body do the same to him. He grabbed your face in his hands, your eyes meeting his. You loved his eyes. They were the prettiest color hazel, brown mixing with green in the most mesmerizing way. “I’m gonna try something, okay y/n? Don’t get freaked out, I just wanna see if it works,” he spoke, looking from your eyes to your lips and back.

Your heart rate started to pick up as you understood what he was implying he was about to do. He leaned in closer to whisper in your ear, apparently not wanting the others to hear what he was about to say. “I’ve also just been wanting to do this for a while, so hopefully this works and you can tell me you’ve been wanting to do this as well.” The others stood, waiting with anticipation on what Fred could possibly do that they haven’t already discussed.

Fred leaned his forehead against yours, taking a deep breath. “Here goes nothing,” he mumbled. Ever so gently, Fred met your lips with his. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t dreamt of this scenario for months. His lips were soft against yours, you wanted so badly to reach up and tangle your hands in his read locks and pull him closer. One of Fred’s hands slid from your cheek to the back of your neck to pull you closer. In an instant your hands shot to his neck, one arm wrapping around him as the other tangled itself in the hair at the back of his neck like you had been fantasizing about.

After another moment or two you pulled away, breathing heavily but a goofy grin plastered on your face. Fred looked at you with hooded eyes, “There she is, there’s my girl.” Your cheeks tinted pink at his verbiage. You turned to look at the others who just stood there, dumbfounded looks across their faces. George was the first one to form a different facial expression. Unsurprisingly it was a smirk as he spoke up, “I can’t wait to tell Jordan this. He owes me ten galleons now.”

You quickly grabbed a pillow, chucking it at the boy. You turned back to Fred, “How did you know that would work? That kissing me would help me break from the curse?” He shrugged his shoulders, “I didn’t know for sure, but I couldn’t just wait around and let a grease ball control you.” You smiled, brushing a piece of hair behind Fred’s ear before pulling him into once more.

#harry potter #golden era #fred weasley #draco malfoy #george weasley #fred weasely x y/n #fred weasly x reader #fred wealsey fic #nonny bo bonny

442 notes · View notes

firewhiskykiss · 11 months

Text

detailed fluffy/smutty headcannons! draco malfoy as your boyfriend.

i’m writing this as a continuation of “ive got my eye on you”, and sooort of requested by @dolcid. i’ll hopefully write a proper part two soon but for now here are some detailed, fluffy bf!draco headcannons to keep you satisfied. ive thrown some smuttys hcs in as well, so you really get the picture (i love reading headcannons so i hope you’re as pleased with this as i am!) <3

WARNINGS! SEXUAL CONTENT. SMUT. 18+

malfoy is a really good boyfriend. you’ve never had one before though so you can’t compare him to much :(

the way he confessed to you was really impressive though (and really turned you on! drunk kisses > )

he gets better and better at kissing every time you do it. he’s not very emotional but he’s passionate, if that makes sense?

when you’re kissing he doesnt administer alot of touch himself but he loves it when you touch him. he lets you run your hands all over his chest, it makes him groan.

when he DOES touch you, its usually your thighs.

despite all the kissing, he’s actually very cautious about going any further with you, because he knows you’ve never been fucked by anyone before. in the first few weeks, he sticks to hot makeout sessions with you.

he used to tease you for being ugly when you disliked eachother, he never meant it, by the damage it did to your confidence meant you never pursued a relationship before him so you’re really a virgin in every aspect. (slay tho <3)

draco doesn’t do dates really. he likes to keep you all to himself, he’s selfish like that. so he usually invites you to the slytherin common room, and takes you up to his dorm.

he banishes the goons from the dorm to spend time with you because he knows they make you uneasy.

he really cherishes quality time over anything, that’s his love language. he doesn’t have to be kissing you the whole time, sitting beside you whilst you read is enough for him. he’s enamoured with your presence.

he’s always been enamoured with your presence, even when he pretended to hate you.

draco is quite a grumpy boyfriend. not mean. just moody. he doesnt like other people. he especially doesnt like harry potter. or anything about any of the gryffindors. you pay it no heed, you just find it cute.

he takes things further one day and you let him eat you out. he doesnt do this alot. hes mostly a receiver.

he’s really dirty when he wants to be, its the fault of his smirk, it makes him look even dirtier.

draco is heavy on the dirty talking and teasing, after all your relationship begun because of his unremitting teasing.

so when he’s licking your pussy, he’s doing it whilst smirking and cooing annoyingly because of how red your face is going.

he gets really hard because its his first time going further than kissing with you. youre the first girl that hes had feelings for as well, so it makes it unreal for him. he gets so hard he has to ask you to suck his dick.

he doesnt beg you though! his voice is cool and nonchalant like it always is.

instead of cumming in your mouth, he comes all over your pussy because he likes how it looks.

when you two finish, he isn’t one for cuddling, but he lets you lay beside him in his arm, and fall asleep on his chest.

when its time for you to go back to your dorm, he folds all of your things up for you, stacks all of your books. hes weirdly a neat-freak.

when you aren’t hanging out on his bed, you’re watching his quidditch games.

one day he has a bad fall and ends up in the hospital wing, with his arm in a sling. typical draco!

he’s a hypochondriac lol!

you drop your studies to sit with him. he grumbles profusely about the pain and the sling. he loves complaining.

you shut him up by kissing him, which makes his expression harden because you two werent public about your relationship yet. but you dont care.

when he’s injured in hospital he lets you groom his hair for him. he cares alot about his appearance. its a frequent occurance. because hes not one for skinship its how you feel close to him.

he warms to the idea of cuddling a bit, but when he does he prefers to be spooned rather than spoon you. and he always does it under the blanket so no one could accidentally see.

he’s a tall, protective boyfriend. he usually wards “threats” away with rude, witty comments, or dirty looks. he doesnt care. you’re his.

when you’re in public, he stands behind you w his hands on your shoulders so he can protect you at all times if he needs to.

he gradually becomes more comfortable being emotional around you. not emotional as in sad or cloying but. he smiles more. not big cheeky smiles, but small ones you notice when you catch him off gaurd.

he kisses you alot before bed, you start sleeping over in his bed in the slytherin dorm, you get away with it because he becomes a prefect.

he kisses the top of your head and your hands/fingertips the most. you’re precious to him, that’s how he conveys it.

after a few weeks of sleeping in his bed, he makes the ultimate move on you and fucks you for the first time. “making-love” is a bit cringe in dracos opinion, he is draco malfoy after all. but it isnt senseless fucking.

he loves the power imbalance of you getting onto your knees for him and sucking his dick. like i said, hes a receiver!

he puts his big, pale hand in your hair and bounces it harshly on his dick. he doesnt make you choke on it though, he doesnt like that.

he actually doesnt fuck you in his bed, the first time. you both get so carried away that he takes you against the wall. from all angles. behind. from the front.

it’s rough, desperate fucking. youve never been fucked before. its such a new and overwhelming feeling. youve been pining for eachother for so long.

he cums all over your pretty pussy again, but not inside it (obvs) and admires it for a while whilst catching his breath.

you start crying after! it was such an intense experience that you get a bit… worried? overwhelmed? it’s not serious crying but you need some softness.

draco isn’t always the best person to rely on for softness but he knows that you need it right now after the way he’d just fucked you.

you cuddle properly for the first time. all naked and sticky (draco HATES that, but he doesnt mind tonight bc its you) and he kisses your head over and over.

hes not big on aftercare usually. but hes patient with you tonight. he lets you sleep off the feeling, and wear his big, boxy school shirt whilst you do so. it smells of him. you love it.

you love him.

he loves you too, hes thinking.

but you don’t tell each other just yet ;)

#draco malfoy #draco x you #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter x you #draco fic #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x you #draco x reader #harry potter

475 notes · View notes

dracoxsworld · 11 months

Text

ARRANGED - Draco M. x Reader | PART 3

“Morning sleeping beauty.” You said to the blonde-haired boy

“What- what the hell?!” Draco exclaimed when he noticed the handcuff on his wrist.

“Yeah I’m pretty sure they don’t trust us anymore to be escapees.” You replied, looking down at your handcuff.

“Do you even remember what happened?” You asked him. He looked you and shook his head.

“They sent dementors after us.” You said. Draco all of a sudden noticed the change in your tone, it was a lot more monotone than before, you spoke in an almost concerning level of calm. Like you were asleep.

“Dementors? Father isn’t supposed to be able to do that,” He said “After the war… He.. they shouldn’t have access-“

“Draco, your family has proven that they can have access to anything they please at this point.” You said irritability. “I’m sorry.” You apologized, your head was pounding, you weren’t sure what the plan was going to be, and neither did he.

“You have a fair point. Father always had a way with things.” He said, focusing on his pale hands.

Your hands rubbed your eyes and then dragged down your face. You were stressed. “So what now?” You asked him. He was silent.

There was a knock at the door, it opened and it was Lucius. Draco’s body froze completely, seemingly in fear. You’ve never seen Draco Malfoy so scared. “Well you two, that was quite the scene.” He started.

He came up to you, as you sat at the edge of the bed. His wand tilted your chin upwards. “I’m guessing you convinced my son to run away from your fate.” He said, his tone reminded you of a poisonous, lethal snake. “You’re correct.” You said, matter of factly. Honestly, it was your idea. But also to cover up for Draco, who still was frozen in fear but at the same time, sitting up straighter once Lucius pointed his wand at you.

“Father, leave her alone, please.” Draco said, voice shaking. “

“Shut it, Draco.” Lucius spat, his dark eyes shooting at his son.

He looked back down at you. “You, my darling, are a bad bad influence.” Lucius “Your family doesn’t exactly hold the spotless reputation, either.” You commented. Lucius gained a devilish grin, he grabbed your shirt by its collar.

“You’re just as twisted as the rest of us, Y/N. Don’t you understand? It’s in your blood.”

“Father!” Draco yelled. Lucius dropped your shirt immediately from shock. You fell back into the bed, rubbing the back of your neck from the shirt digging into your skin. “Before I go. You’re both husband and wife.” Lucius said, walking towards the door, seemingly forgetting what he had just done to you. You and Draco looked at each other. He looked apologetic. “We decided to finish the job since you both decided to take a run for it.” Lucius added. “Happy honeymoon.”

Lucius left the room, leaving you and Draco alone. “Shit.” He said under his breath. You sighed, absolutely nothing went according to plan. You weren't exactly surprised it had gone to a complete shit show, it was rather typical compared to the rest of your life.

You and Draco were released about an hour later. Maggie, the worker who had helped you get ready for your wedding yesterday, released you both.

"That was quite the wedding, Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy." Maggie said, leading you out of the bedroom. You turned her head in confusion, but then remembered you were both married. "Yes, well, we love the element of surprise, Maggie." Draco said sarcastically. "I suppose so, anyhow, Mrs. Franchies has made you both a breakfast. Mr. Malfoy, I was told to warn you both, and I plead you to actually listen; that the Manor has high security outside. Please, for both of your safety, behave." Maggie said calmly. She looked over at you with pleading eyes. "Please, Mrs. and Mr. Malfoy. Do as you are told." You both reluctantly nodded.

You and Draco both quietly sat at the dining table. It was elegant and could seat probably 40 people. It was black, and the chairs matched with velvet dark green cushions. "Mrs. Franchies is a lovely chef." Draco said quietly. "She'll bring us our breakfast any minute. Eggs, toast, everything you can think of." He said, a bit more confidently. "With orange juice, of course. Freshly squeezed-" "What are we going to do?" I interrupted him. He just stared. I started to tear up. "Stop crying, we'll find a way." Draco said with a bit of a stern tone. You looked up at him.

"We are in a heavily guarded manor. We couldn't even escape with our magic." You said to him, with confusion. "How do you expect we-" "Maybe we should just accept our fate." Draco sneered. "Maybe it's your fate to marry someone you don't love, but it's not mine." You snapped back.

"We are married, Y/N." Draco stressed. "You'll never marry your precious Nicholas." You could feel steam bursting out of your ears. You stood up at the table. Draco's eyes widened "I am done with this conversation, if you won't find a way, I'll leave on my own." You left the dining room, tears falling down your cheeks, you heard Draco calling after you, something about blowing this out of proportion.

You laid in your elegant bed, sobbing quietly to yourself when you heard a knock at your door. "What?" you called out. You heard the door open and you looked up. Draco stepped into the room with a plate of breakfast. "You're not supposed to have food in here!" you whispered. "Well I can't just let you starve." Draco said, sounding annoyed with you already. He sat at the end of the bed on your side, handing you the plate. You sat up. "Listen. I know we aren't the biggest fan of each other, but we should make the best of the situation, Y/N." Draco said after a moment, he was looking at his knuckles, trying to avoid eye contact. You ate some food, waiting for him to continue. "I was impressed by you, ya know." Draco admitted. He looked at his ring finger, and perked up. "I completely forgot!" He said, getting up from the bed. You watched him with curiosity. He opened his bedside table drawer and pulled out a dark green velvet box. He went in front of you and gave you the box. You took it in your hand and ran your thumb over the soft velvet. "Open it." Draco said softly.

You opened the box and your eyes widened. Two rings sat in the box, your initials above your ring, a round cut ring with an emerald. It looked beautiful, you must admit. Draco's initials were above his, a black ring with a snake engraved. Typical.

"You don't have to wear yours, at least when you're here." Draco said, taking his and putting it on. "Just.. when we're out, so people don't question anything. People should probably have the impression we're happy." He said.

You looked up at him. "I'll wear mine." You decided, Draco looked surprise. You picked up the delicate looking ring and slipping it on your finger. "You're lucky I am sympathetic." You said to him. He gave you a faint smile, and sat next to you on the bed. "I must admit, you did amazing in that battle." He complimented. You felt your face go hot, but you shoved food in your mouth before he noticed. You nodded, chewing your eggs and toast. "I'm not surprised, though. You were amazing in Hogwarts." You swallowed your food, and smiled faintly. "I suppose you're good too, you protected me quite a bit. Even afterwards, you defended me from your dad." You said. "You're my wife now, I have to. Even if we don't particularly like each other."

"I think we can eventually like each other." You admitted. Draco raised his eyebrows at you. "I suppose for the time being.. we have to, right?" You suggested. He nodded. Draco looked into your eyes, he didn't say anything, he just stared. His face moved closer to yours, and as almost as if you two were magnets, you connected. You felt his lips on yours. They were gentler than you thought they'd be, caring, almost. His hands naturally went up to your face and gently cupped it in his hands, your hands then landed on his biceps, wanting to keep them where they were.

You both pulled away and looked at each other.

"Effective start, Mrs. Malfoy." Draco teased.

#draco malfoy #draco fic #draco malfoy x y/n #draco x y/n #draco fanfiction #draco x reader smut #draco malfoy smut #draco #draco lucius malfoy #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy series

443 notes · View notes

goldandglittersblog · 1 month

Text

Draco: We have a problem.

Hermione: No! YOU have a problem. I have an idiot for a husband who keeps causing them.

111 notes · View notes

storiesfromafan · 11 months

Text

Traitor

A/N: its been a little while. Back with some more angst haha. This will be a 2 part, maybe even a 3 part 🙂

Pairing: Mattheo x Fem! Raventclaw Reader

Warnings: angst

Ooh-ooh-ooh

Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah

It’s funny how you can go from happily in a relationship one minute and then sour, almost bitter from the ending of it, the next. That is what happened to you. Blissfully happy with Mattheo Riddle during your fifth year. You had spent your Easter holidays at home, accompanying your father to a Ministry party. You had been at your father’s side to start before finding yourself sitting alone. Sometime later your father had returned to you with two familiar Slytherin boys in tow, Draco Malfoy and Mattheo Riddle. Your father had business with Lucius Malfoy and had said you and the two males could keep each other company. It was a start to a budding friendship for the three of you. By the time you returned to Hogwarts you and Mattheo had a flirtatious thing going on. Soon it led to dating and by the end of May you were his girlfriend.

The rest of the year was learning about each other and learning how to function in a relationship. For the most of it, it was good. But slowly you started to see how possessive Mattheo could get, or his jealous tendencies. Though you learned it was due to his home life and up bringing. You talked it out with him as best you could, as he gave vague answers to your questions. You were satisfied with what you learnt. What would be red flags, were more pink after your talk. You didn’t push him more then needed, you didn’t want to cause him to shut off from you or end your relationship. So, fifth year ended with your relationship being solid, and happy.

After a decent summer holiday, the 1st of September returned and off to Hogwarts came around marking your sixth year. You returned with Mattheo at your side, hands locked together. Your relationship strong and seeming to only get stronger. Unfortunately, you didn’t foresee you’d make it to the New Year before Mattheo broke up with you. You asked him all the typically questions to why he was breaking up with you, and you got a typical answer from the brunet with the deepest brown eyes.

Brown guilty eyes and little white lies

Yeah, I played dumb but I always knew

That you'd talk to her, maybe did even worse

I kept quiet so I could keep you

You recall the 2nd of January; you were enjoying the afternoon sun in the courtyard when Mattheo approached you. You were all smiles when seeing him, greeting him before starting to talk about your upcoming classes in a few days. It wasn’t long before he cut you off, his tone harsh and a tad formal. It was unlike him to be like that. For the Mattheo you knew was considerate, patient and an attentive listener. This Mattheo was someone you didn’t know. Looking at him in confusion he took that as his cue to speak.

“Y/N, I have been thinking during Christmas break” he started looking down at his feet. “I have found the last almost seven months to have been a wonderful time together” he looked up at you with those deep brown eyes of his, they shone with guilt.

You felt a sudden cold sensation wash over you. “Theo, you’re…you’re not saying what I think your saying” you said shakily, scared eyes looking back at him.

He nodded his head once, “yes, it is Y/N”.

You felt sick with every word he said. You hadn’t even known there was a problem with your relationship. You thought you were both happy, and in love. But here he was, breaking up with you. And the first thing you thought of was her. The Slytherin girl named Anna Frost, blonde long locks, green eyes and petite form. Mattheo had over the last three months became close to the girl, his friend as he called her. But you always thought there was something there. Before telling yourself, you were just being silly, a little jealous.

“We have had so many amazing times together” a small sad smile forming on his lips before he went back to a blank expression. “But we’ve run our course Y/N/N. I hope we can still be friends”.

Friends. That was a slap to the face, adding salt to an exposed wound. How could he say that to you? It was like the Mattheo you knew was dead, and the person before you were an imposter. Or was this who he really was? Had he played you the whole time? No, he hadn’t. You had shared so many personal and private things together.

“I-I don’t understand” you sputtered, trying to wrap your head around it.

He sighed. “I had wanted to be as nice as possible about this” his tone cold. “Us, we are over. We are done”. And without waiting for your reply, Mattheo walked off. Leaving you alone, cold, mind reeling and uncomfortable with the eyes currently on you.

So, you gathered your belongings before rushing back to your Ravenclaw dorm room. Where you finally cried as it sunk in. Mattheo dumped you. Your whimsical romance was over. Your heart ripped out and stomped on by the Slytherin Devil himself.

And ain't it funny

How you ran to her

The second that we called it quits?

And ain't it funny

How you said you were friends?

Now it sure as hell don't look like it

Gossip in the few days after your breakup told you that as soon as Mattheo broke up with you, he was running off to his blonde Slytherin friend. They were seen hanging out together, along with Draco, Pansy Parkinson, Theodore Nott and Lorenzo Berkshire. All chatting and laughing away, like only ten minutes before, when he broke up with you, didn’t happen. He acted like nothing transpired, you hadn’t existed, or he’d been in a relationship with you. It hurt to hear that. The girls in your Ravenclaw dorm were there for you and told you before you heard it from anyone else.

But as your mind started to think everything over, you thought it funny how he ran off after breaking up with you to her. Now it sure as hell didn’t look like friends with them. Who goes from the girl they broke up with, to their female friend and act like their ex didn’t exist? The times you had thought you were being silly, and jealous, over the Slytherin girl were now not a laughing matter. His actions spoke loud and clear.

You betrayed me

And I know that you'll never feel sorry

For the way I hurt, yeah

You'd talk to her

When we were together

Loved you at your worst

But that didn't matter

It took you two weeks

To go off and date her

Guess you didn't cheat

But you're still a traitor

Betrayal. The best word to describe what Mattheo had done to you. You had been there for him, for the good times and the bad. But also, the worst moments, which usually involved his home life. He would get letters, which he never showed you and you respected his privacy, but they would leave him almost a shell of himself. So, you would be the one to drag him somewhere you both could be alone. You’d hold him and tell him all the great things about him. Slowly building him back up till he was almost himself again. He had been so grateful for those moments. And the way he’d repay you was giving you all his attention when he could or taking you to Hogsmeade and making those dates so special. Mattheo treated you like a Princess for all the kindness you gave him.

Finally processing what had happened, you were left feeling sour, bitter from how it ended. And those feelings only got worse as after two weeks Mattheo and Anna started dating. It was the hot gossip Monday morning, as they walked into the Great Hall together holding hands. That had been how you both had entered the hall every mealtime, before parting ways to sit at respected tables, though your eyes were always watching the other. Mattheo and Anna sat side by side at the Slytherin table, that was on display to you. As you unconsciously sat where you had always sat. You looked away from them as you picked at your food, occasionally eating. But every now and then you would look to them. Anna fussed over Mattheo and laughed at whatever was said. Or there was the time you looked, and they were talking with Draco and Pansy, he smiled softly at their conversation while Anna held onto Mattheo’s arm.

Now you bring her around

Just to shut me down

Show her off like she's a new trophy

And I know if you were true

There's no damn way that you

Could fall in love with somebody that quickly

With every encounter you had with the two; either shared classes, mealtimes, hallways, etc. Your mixed emotions grew. Seeing them together was a constant slap in the face. Such as Potions class. They were partners, Anna always making goo-goo eyes at Mattheo and doing anything to get close to him. It made you sick, you wanted to throw up. Thankfully your Potions partner and fellow Ravenclaw, Hugo Andrews, could see how it was effecting you. He was sweet, doing everything to distract you, getting you to focus on the potion Snape had you brewing.

But every now and then you would hear Anna’s stupid laugh. And you would wince, another hit to your crumbling resolve. When you would sneak a look, you would see Mattheo close to her, playing around and looking happy, almost in love. That was it. You turned away, focused on the potion and told yourself it was done.

Ain't it funny

All the twisted games

All the questions you used to avoid?

Ain't it funny?

Remember I brought her up

And you told me I was paranoid

Over time, as much as you pushed Mattheo from your mind, everything would resurface. Even more so when people would talk to you, either fishing for gossip or genuinely confused to what happened. And at random times you would go over everything in your head, trying to work out what happened.

But then one night, while laying awake in bed, you once again began to mull it all over. It was funny that over the three months of his new friendship you started out with subtle questions, before them getting more blunt. He would either tip toe around them, give short vague answers, or plain out tell you that you were over thinking it all. Yet part of you knew something hadn’t been right. And them getting together confirmed that.

You betrayed me

And I know that you'll never feel sorry

For the way I hurt, yeah

You'd talk to her

When we were together

Loved you at your worst

But that didn't matter

It took you two weeks

To go off and date her

Guess you didn't cheat

But you're still a traitor

God, I wish that you had thought this through

Before I went and fell in love with you

(Ah-ah-ah)

Saturday afternoon was a lazy one. You had taken to going for a walk, to clear your head and escape from the castle of gossip and your ex. The fresh air was nice, it was still cold but it was mid February. Which meant winter was almost over, and spring (your favourite season) was coming. Looking around the grounds, which still had some white covering it, green patches here and there. You couldn’t wait for the grass to be a vibrant green, and wild flowers to cover patches of the land.

You could already picture laying in the wild flowers, warm sun beaming down on you. You’d pick dandelions and blow the white sprouts from the stem, watching the wind carry off the seeds. But then you remembered how you would do that with Mattheo. How you would lounge together in the flowers, soaking up the sun. You would talk about school or random things while watching the sky. The sweet moments you both shared sent your heart aching.

The peace and quiet didn’t last, as you heard the faint crunch of snow under feet. Upon turning around you found the person you were just thinking about. You felt a rush of anger, how dare he walk where you usually went. How dare he have done many things to you, or to hurt you. Glaring at the approaching figure, you wanted him to know he was unwelcome. Hoping he would see your state, turn around & scurry off back to the dungeons of the castle, never to be seen again. But nope, you were wrong.

Mattheo had seen you leave the castle, he had watched you leave the front doors of the school, walk around the side of the building, past the turn off for the Quidditch area and down the familiar path you’d both taken. He knew you wanted to be alone, but he had to talk to you. Yes, he wasn’t stupid, he’d seen your reaction to everything that had been going on since your break up. He had even heard the gossip students were saying, majority of it being all lies. Part of him felt bad, responsible for your state.

The glare on your face told him he wasn’t welcome, but he wouldn’t back down. Sporting a blank face, Mattheo stared at you. “Y/N” he said with a nod of his head. “How are you?”

That was it. Hearing those words pass Mattheo Riddles lips opened up the floodgate of your emotions and thoughts. He would regret those words after you’re done with him. Your nostrils flared as you took in a sharp breath.

“You want to know how I am?” You asked a little too calmly, to which he nodded his head. “Well I don’t know. Maybe I am upset, maybe I am angry. Maybe I am confused. Or maybe I am all that and more Riddle” you spat out his surname.

Mattheo’s eyes widened. He hadn’t thought you would be like this. He thought you would say you were sad and angry, you’d both talk it out and you’d both move on. He didn’t expect you would be furious, possibly wanting his blood. As the saying goes: Hell hath no furry like a woman scorned.

When she's sleeping in the bed we made

Don't you dare forget about the way

“Do you expect me to be fine? Happy for your new relationship?” You asked, spitting out the word relationship. “Do you expect me to act like the time we were together meant nothing? Like it never happened? I can’t, because it meant something to me...”

Mattheo moved from foot to foot, his calm and uncaring image starting to slip. “Y/N, I’m sorry you feel like this” he started, and you scoffed rolling your eyes. “I genuinely didn’t know you were taking it this hard-“

“Seriously!? Everyone with functioning eyes can see how I have been” you cut him off. “Oh I’m sorry, I forgot if it doesn’t involve you, it wasn’t important”.

His eyes darker and focused on you. “No, that is not true”.

“Huh, it is. Its always about you. After all you got to know your knew girlfriend before ending it with me, and jumped into a relationship with her not long after we ended. Hence why it’s all about you, or else you’d have considered me and my feelings before doing what you did”.

Mattheo was silent for a moment, trying to keep calm. “I did think about you...I ended it because we ran our course. I didn’t want to string you along”.

You laughed bitterly. “Sure, tell yourself what you have to Riddle. You betrayed me. 'Cause I know that you'll never feel sorry, for the way I hurt, yeah?” it was a rhetorical question. “You'd talk to her, when we were together. You gave me your word, but that didn't matter”.

“That’s not fair” Mattheo argued, but you weren’t having it.

“It took you two weeks, to go off and date her. Guess you didn't cheat. But you're still... you're still a traitor” you said it all in a rush, letting everything you’d been holding back out. “Yeah, you're still a traitor!”

Getting the words and feelings out released a weight you’d been carrying around. He needed to see how hurt you were, how furious you were, how frantic you were. Mattheo needed to know he had broken you, but now you were going to build yourself back up. You were done with him, done with how you felt.

Mattheo stood there like a deer in headlights. He hadn’t expected you to say what you said, or really unload all you had. Nor did he blame you. He deserved what he got. He figured you would be hurt but not to this extent. Mattheo Riddle had hurt you deeply, and now you were done with him for good. And he didn’t like that. If only he hadn’t had to do what he did. If only it could have been different.

Ooh-ooh-ooh

Seeing as he wasn’t going to say anything you decided it was time to leave. Turning from the boy before you, you didn’t bother to look at him. Or else you’d have seen the hurt in his eyes, along with unshed tears. Or how his shoulders slumped, or how weak he was right then.

After taking a few steps you stopped, but not looking back you said; “God, I wish that you had thought this through...before I went and fell in love with you”.

With those final words, the final goodbye, you left Mattheo alone. He watched your retreating form, with each step his heart cracking. And then when you were gone from sight, his heart shattered. For he had not wanted to break up with you, he didn’t want to jump into a relationship with Anna, he didn’t want to hurt you, and he didn’t want you to walk away from him for good.

“I wish I didn’t have to do this to you Y/N/N...” Mattheo said softly to the silence around him. “But if I didn’t, he would have hurt you. And I couldn’t do that, I couldn’t let you get hurt”. The tears in his eyes slowly fell. “It hurts to have you hate me...but if it saves you from my father, I will carry this pain...”

A/N: hope you enjoyed. & part 2 will be up soon 🙂

#mattheo riddle x you #mattheo x y/n #mattheo x reader #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheoxreader #Spotify

401 notes · View notes

slytherinslut0 · 5 months

Text

enemies w/ tension. | slytherin boy headcanons

author's note: feralism inside. readers be advised. eighteen plus.

- your enemies reaction to you bending over in front of them.

Draco Malfoy.

Draco Malfoy, as your enemy, was an absolute arsehat.

He’d purposely go out of his way to make your life a living hell whenever he bloody could.

The teasing and pranking was relentless; from accidentally spilling a particular shimmering potion on your white uniform blouse, rendering it perfectly see-through and exposing your bra to everyone in potions class, to pulling out your seat when you weren’t looking; he’d done it all.

He was an absolute menace, but you also knew there was something more to it than that, something possessive, something obsessive.

And you thought this for a multitude of reasons, but the main one being that he admitted he was into you while drunk at a common room party. which of course he denied the next day, and every other day since, choosing instead to be as annoying as ever.

but on this particular late evening, assigned as partners for a class project, you found yourselves alone together; the tension high and the banter relentless.

“Draco, please stop acting like a bloody child for five seconds.”

He’d roll his eyes, fighting a smirk. “Pleading for mercy are you? How adorable.”

You’d huff, staring at him with your arms crossed out of frustration as he held your quill above his head, just out of your reach.

“No, I’m pleading for you to stop being so goddamn insufferable. Give me my quill.” You’d hiss, entirely irritated.

Of course he’d just laugh, wetting his lips as he analyzed your frustration, revelling in the fact he’s so clearly gotten you going.

“Here.” He’d sneer, all before tossing it half-way across the room. “Go fetch.”

by this point, your blood was boiling, but you wouldn’t miss the glint in his eyes, the one that told you he was enjoying this a little more than he should be.

With a frustrated sigh, you pivoted sharply, seizing the perfect opportunity. As you closed in on your quill, a deliberate hair flip cascaded over your shoulder. Slow and sensuous, you bent at the hips, hands trailing down your sides, tracing the subtle sway of your body reaching for the quill. Picking it up achingly slow, on the ascent, you locked eyes with Draco over your shoulder, a sly smirk playing on your lips.

Draco’s typically poised demeanor faltered as he watched, an involuntary pause freezing his features. His steely gaze, usually cloaked in arrogance, softened into a momentary bewilderment.

The realization hit him like a revelation, and before you could even process it, he was up and out of his seat, one hand gripping the back of your head as he loomed over you.

“What the fuck was that?” His voice was torn, shredded. “Quite the fucking tease, huh?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You blinked, grinning. “I simply picked up my quill.”

His grip on the back of your head tightened, his pupils blown wide with lust. All his restraint was gone.

“You’re a fucking filthy little thing “ he leaned in closer, wetting his lips as he glimpsed yours. “Do that again and I’ll fuck you right here, right over this desk.”

Blaise Zabini.

Blaise fucking Zabini. Your enemy? You guessed you could call him that.

Mainly because all the guy ever did was sabotage your bloody love life. Every single damn chance he got.

And not even in a traditional asshole type of way, like by scaring dudes off or threatening their livelihoods--oh, no.

he scared them off by just being himself.

You’d known Blaise since first year, being that the two of you are from the same house and share the same friend group,

but, all the two of you have ever done, since day bloody one, was banter and bicker like a pair of fucking first years.

But as you matured, that friendly banter slowly transitioned into something more, something that neither of you seemed willing to acknowledge.

Something that you knew was about to boil over, at any given moment. and perhaps, that moment was today.

you sighed in frustration, watching as the guy you’d been talking to all night began to make his way through the crowd, finally taking the hint and excusing himself after Blaise had just ever-so-kindly invited himself into your conversation.

“Why do you have to ruin everything?” You took a sip of your drink, glancing at a smirking Zabini through narrowed lids. “Do you not want me to find love? Do you truly hate me that much?”

“I did you a favour, trust me,” he’d quip, flashing those perfect pearly teeth at you. “Dude would have bored you death.”

“The great Zabini, doing me a favour?” Your eyes widened, and you’d stifle an amused scoff. “Sure you’re feeling okay?”

As Blaise was poised to respond, you fumbled with your wand, inadvertently dropping it onto the wooden floor of the common room. Acting on instinct, you bent down to retrieve it, sensing Blaise's eyes lingering on your backside for an unnecessarily long moment as you slowly straightened up.

And when you finally looked over, you watched as he brought a hand up to his mouth, attempting to hide his grin as he shot you a knowing, wide-eyed glance, his body tensed as though he was fighting to restrain himself.

but after only a few seconds, he’d step closer, his hand grazing your arm as he leaned in.

“Excuse me miss, but I think you’ve made me drop something,” he’d pause, watching your eyes as you met his.

“I’m sorry?” You snorted. “what are you-“

he’d pull you closer, bringing his mouth toward your ear. “you made me drop my fucking jaw…”

you’d blink, caught off guard. “Blaise-“

“That ass is fucking perfect,” he murmured, wetting his lips. “cant hide it anymore, princess…i want you bad.”

Lorenzo Berkshire.

“Enzo-earth to bloody Enzo,” you emitted an audible groan, sinking back down into the chair beside him.. “can you please at least fucking attempt to help me?”

Enzo was uninterested in your pleas, truthfully, he was uninterested in anything you had to say. Paying no heed, he sat slouched, head nestled in his arms on the desk, seemingly oblivious to your presence.

you sighed. this was going to be a long damn class.

“Enzo, please? you can sleep after class-“

He grumbled softly under his breath, neglecting to raise his head from the desk. However, he pivoted it towards you, his bleary brown eyes meeting yours.

“can you knock it off?” his voice was a shredded rasp. it was clear he was exhausted. “don’t you ever get tired of hearing your own voice?”

You scoffed, irritation evident on your face. This was the typical Enzo conversational experience--a constant exchange of snark and jabs. It baffled you how a man so fucking attractive could also be so damn daft at times.

“i don’t, actually,” you huffed, trying to keep your composure. “but i certainly get tired of your ignorant attitude.”

that managed to get at least a chuckle out of him, even if it was a half-assed one.

“spicy today, i see.” his lids fluttered back closed as he muttered, “bite me, darling.”

“you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” you teased, your voice taking on an arrogant tone. “masochist.”

Enzo emitted a snort, a hearty chuckle escaping from his chest in response to your suggestive jab. Progress was evident, and you sensed the need to elevate things to the next level if you intended to secure his assistance.

Making sure his eyes remained closed, you slyly nudged your quill, sending it tumbling off the table and onto the floor. A mischievous smirk played on your lips as it hit the ground, and Enzo's eyes snapped open, fixing on you.

Maintaining the intense eye contact, you slowly leaned over in the chair, letting the seductive sway of your movements accompany your reach for the fallen quill.

you could feel Enzo's gaze following your every movement as you retrieved the quill with a lingering touch--all while a subtle, suggestive smile danced on your lips.

the second you straightened out, Enzo sat up straight, clearing his throat, tongue darting out to moisten his lips as he fought to collect himself.

“what’s the matter, Enz?” you quipped, unable to control yourself. “thought you were tired?”

“don’t play with me, angel.” he muttered, leaning closer. “please, Merlin, don’t fucking play with me.”

you’d snicker. “help me with this assignment and i’ll let you touch it.”

“deal.”

Mattheo Riddle.

you and Mattheo were enemies for one reason, and one reason only--his suffocating arrogance.

perhaps you were the only girl in the school who called him out on his bullshit, perhaps you were the only girl in the school who didn’t fall flat at his feet anytime he simply breathed.

and Mattheo, well, he wasn’t used to this type of treatment. and he certainly wasn’t keen on the fact he couldn’t get you in his bed with a mere second long glance.

of course, you were fully conscious of the fact he was hot as fuck, but your self-respect and dignity outweighed your sexual desires, which in turn, created fiery spats every-time the two of you were near each other.

And so, here you were, paired with him for a research assignment; the two of you alone in the library on a Sunday night, while he was totally hungover. And as insufferable as ever.

“Mattheo, give my fucking textbook back.”

He’d groan, rolling his eyes as he tucked the book under his arm, hugging it to his chest while seated sluggishly.

“Come and get it back, then.” He’d utter, smirking. “I promise I don’t bite…hard.”

You fought back a scoff. “You won’t be able to bite at all if you don’t cut it the fuck out…it’s almost ten o’clock we need to start this.”

Mattheo rolled his eyes, again, his tongue piercing the inside of his cheek as he pulled the book out from under his arm, and stood up, moving over to the bookshelf behind your chair.

With suffocating snark, he knelt down, shoving the book onto one of the shelves lowest to the ground, all before turning back around and smirking at you, crossing his arms over his chest and shrugging casually as he cocked an eyebrow.

“You told me to give it back.” The arrogance in his tone was nauseating. “You didn’t specify where.”

“First of all, that’s the wrong shelf,” you’d mutter, watching his eyes follow you as you pushed up from the chair, veering closer. “And second of all, you’re not funny.”

Mattheo poised for a sharp retort, ready to counter with his usual biting wit. However, his words stumbled into silence as he observed you drawing near.

With a swift, almost calculated movement, you bent at the hips to retrieve your book beside him. The fabric of your skirt dared to venture higher up your thighs than convention allowed, leaving Mattheo momentarily entranced and rendering his intended response obsolete.

But the second you straightened out, meeting his eyes, lips teasing a knowing smirk, he was on you.

Your back slammed against the shelf as he grappled your hips, shoving you back. he towered over you, his lips pressed directly against your ear as he growled;

“You shouldn’t be bending over like that in front of me,” his voice was torn, shredded, and he finished the sentence off with a sharp “ever.”

your heart was hammering. “Why not, Matty? Didn’t enjoy the show?”

“You have no idea what that ass of yours does to me,” he groaned, his grip on your hips tightening. “Every fucking day I imagine railing it--I imagine fucking the attitude right out of you…you should know better than to tempt me.”

Theodore Nott.

“Look at that,” Theodore quipped, his snarky grin practically evident in his tone of voice. “top of the class again. how does that L feel, huh?”

you grumbled, rolling your eyes so far into the back of your skull that you were seeing white.

“don’t get cocky, Nott.” you nearly snarled, the frustration seeping from your lips like breath. “it’s not a good look on you,”

theodore merely chuckled, knowing that was a complete fucking lie.

cockiness was an infuriatingly good look on him, and that was solely due to the fact that the objects of his arrogance were damn impressive achievements that could make anyone green with envy.

the man was unfathomably smart for an arrogant jock whose life was dedicated to being the best quidditch player to ever exist.

clucking his tongue, he’d shoot you a knowing glance. “you sound jealous, bella. what’s your grade?”

as he tried to lean over to glimpse your mark, you pulled your paper away from him, scowling. “how about mind your own business, hm?”

he’d chuckle. “never been known for that, have i?”

Before you could formulate a response, Theodore snatched the paper from your hands, leaning away to sneak a glance at your mark. Your groan of irritation resonated, signaling your exasperation with his antics.

Annoyed, you reached over to grab your paper back, your low-cut blouse exposing more of your chest than you’d intended.

As soon as Theodore’s eyes fixed on your chest, noting your breasts practically spilling out of your shirt, he paused; his fingers involuntarily releasing the paper without further fight, his lips parting and eyes darkening.

“merlin,” he’d breathe, his voice torn. “you trying to give a lad a fucking heart attack, wearing a shirt like that?”

your cheeks grew warm, his eyes not once breaking from your chest as you straightened back out in your chair, adjusting yourself.

“it’s rude to stare, Nott.” you’d say, fighting a grin. “didn’t your mommy ever teach you that?”

Theodore let out a low groan, edging his body closer to yours. His lips dangerously neared your ear, and he couldn't resist sneakily glancing down your shirt, unable to control his wandering gaze.

“it’s rude to tease, Bella,” he’d purr, his voice a dark murmur. “and truth be told, i can’t quite help myself…”

you huffed, unable to stifle your smirk. “sounds like you need a refresher in manners.”

“Oh, principessa,” he’d retort, his voice laced with need. “you can refresh me in anything you want as long as i can see more of those perfect tits of yours.”

Tom Riddle.

Tom Riddle was an absolute brilliant genius;

a good man. a private, by-the book type of student.

and if you were being completely honest with yourself, this was precisely why the two of you didn’t quite get along.

it seemed as though Tom had it out for you, as though he had some sort of personal vendetta to make your life a living hell.

At every opportunity, he wielded his prefect powers to land you in trouble for something. Perhaps, in all fairness, you should have known better than to sneak into the restricted section of the library or prowl around the castle late at night,

but, gods. couldn’t he just cut you some bloody slack for once?

Admittedly, you were afraid to cross Tom. You weren't eager to be on his bad side, but at the same time, you weren't prepared to entirely abandon breaking the rules and having fun just because you were aware he could catch you.

so instead, you learned his schedule, where he’d be and at what times, knowing how to effectively avoid him.

the man was a cunning genius, you knew he could effectively destroy you if he so pleased.

but, on this particular night, he was set to be patrolling the dungeons for at least another two hours, giving you plenty of time to sneak into the library and do a little research.

and everything was going extremely well, hidden in the restricted section, blanketed by the nights encompassing darkness, when you noticed your shoelace was untied.

Bending down to address the matter, a peculiar sensation tingled through your senses as you completed the task. A subtle shift in the atmosphere hinted at an approaching presence, and just as you straightened up, the hushed cadence of footsteps drew closer.

Before you could pivot to face the intruder, their looming silhouette materialized behind you.

A towering figure, their breath, warm and palpable, brushed over your ear as they leaned in, setting your nerves on edge.

“you shouldn’t be bending over like that in public,” the voice was a deep, dark rasp in your ear, the arrogance in the tone unmistakable. “some people might think you’re a little slut.”

heat rushed you, your thighs clenched. “and what if i want some people to think that?”

immediately understanding your suggestive remark, Tom wasted no time before grappling your hips and spinning you around to face him, one hand slithering around your lower back and grasping a palmful of your ass.

“filthy whore,” he’d growl, his voice shredded now, barely restrained. “breaking the rules and showing off that perfect ass for anyone to see…calls for punishment i’d say.”

his teeth found your neck and you whimpered, clutching onto him. “i’m-“

Tom pulled back, meeting your eyes. “bend over the desk, now.”

#sorry #i got extremely carried away #18+ au.

3K notes · View notes

olderthannetfic · 20 days

Note

This is a rant that is going to end in a question that I genuinely want the answer to.

I've recently seen (in the past year or so) an uptick in people online using the word "delusional" casually or as an insult. Worse even than that, "delulu" which I believe originated on Tiktok or Twitter (likely places for ableism to come from, yeah, fork found in kitchen etc etc). The only people I really see calling this behavior out are, you guessed it, actually delusional or psychotic people.

Typically it's thrown around to describe someone's "weird" or "chronically online" beliefs. Like using it to talk about reality shifters or RPF shippers who think their ship is actually together or etc. And, like, while I don't disagree that spiritual psychosis or "the belief that someone is sending me signals via social media" are real actual delusional behaviors/can lead to actual delusions, I really don't think that believing you can shift to Hogwarts to see Draco or that you have a mental connection to the Stranger Things universe or that Taylor Swift is queer and flagging via music videos really fits the criteria for spiritual psychosis or erotomania or what have you *in itself* - meaning if you live an otherwise normal life and only get out of touch with reality when you're on #MaraudersTok or r/LarryStylinson, you're likely not delusional, or at least not delusional enough for it to impact your functionality.

So, that begs the question, WHY? Why use delusional to describe stupid chronically online drama? Like, I'm being genuine, I truly do want to know why. Are these people misusing/misunderstanding what the word delusional means? Are they armchair diagnosing? Do they think these people are actually experiencing psychosis, and if so, why are they using said diagnosis as an insult or as part of their moral flaws? Why are they so bothered and obsessed with someone else's "delusion", especially when the delusion in question isn't hurting them and is just a stupid thing like thinking that some random celeb is about to hard launch their coming out or that they can teleport to a fictional world?

(also, PLEASE, I know it sounds like I have specific beef with shifters or gay rpf truthers, I DON'T, nor am i necessarily 'defending' these communities, 'cuz i know they do have actual issues outside of just being cringe or whatever. I don't want gaylor shift malfoy snapewives discourse, i want "why are you using a psychotic disorder to describe these fringe fandom communities" discourse, and in the circles i run in that's just the type of people who are described as delusional the most - I know that the overall issue runs much deeper, I just figured Id ask a fandom blog why the word is so prevelant in fandoms, especially in specific "types" of fandoms)

Like, I'm not looking for an argument of "it's ok to use delusional so casually" or "yeah i agree it's so fucked up that people throw that word around :/" all i want is an honest and concise answer of WHY delusional has become the Hot New Armchair Diagnosis For Weird People On TikTok or whatever.

Lots of words get used with a colloquial definition and people aren't really thinking about their technical meaning.

K-pop fandom. Blame them.

94 notes · View notes

forestdeath1 · 12 days

Text

The Black family as representatives of ancient "Anglo-Saxon elite"

To me Blacks were never partially French. I'm not saying the headcanon "Blacks are partially French" isn't valid, it's just not as interesting to me and it strips away nuances from their history. Here's why.

(It’s just my fantasies mixed with historical facts! Don’t take it too seriously)

Firstly, their choice of surname.

I've noticed that two main Death Eater families bear surnames of French and Norman origin. Lestrange and Malfoy (fictional, but the "origin" is clear). And then there's Rosier and Avery. Rosier – definitely French, and Avery – from the Middle English and Anglo-Norman French personal name Aevery, a Norman form of Alfred. There are no other surnames like this in Harry Potter, except for Peverell (correct me if I'm wrong).

Clearly, this is a reference to the Norman Conquest of 1066. These Death Eaters could be associated with aristocratic and influential families who came to England after the Norman Conquest. This is a nod to the historical division in English society between Normans and Anglo-Saxons, where Normans represented the upper echelon of society, while Anglo-Saxons were less privileged.

Yes, I'm Captain Obvious here. So let's move on to the Blacks.

The surname Black is typically Anglo-Saxon. It could have derived from the Old English word 'blæc,' meaning 'black' or 'dark,' and may have been used to describe someone who wore black clothing or had dark hair.

(Old English emerged around the 5th-6th centuries and was used in England for about 600 years, until the 11th century. This period ended after the Norman Conquest in 1066).

Hogwarts, canonically, appeared over 1000 years ago. That is, before the Norman Conquest. (But Hogwarts Castle couldn't exist yet, because castle technology was brought by the Normans). The Blacks call themselves "the noble and most ancient house of Black." That is, the oldest family, and also the noblest. Maybe they were "noble" in the sense that they belonged to the elite of Anglo-Saxon society (which was fragmented into small kingdoms). But they consider themselves the oldest family among those who trace their lineage and uphold the nobility (purity) of their blood. Considering that "Hogwarts" appeared before the Norman Conquest, I fantasize that such families already existed back then. A lot of families are extinct. Except the Blacks.

So the Blacks are a reflection of "Anglo-Saxon aristocracy." And here I headcanon that the Blacks still considered themselves more entitled than everyone else, mocked the Malfoys and Rosiers, and generally looked down on anything French. Fanatics to the bone and lovers of elevating themselves above all.

Why the motto in French – in the Middle Ages, the use of Latin and French languages was common among European aristocracy (despite the fact that there is NO aristocracy among wizards, but they could have been part of the aristocracy before the introduction of the Statute of Secrecy). The French language was often considered the language of diplomacy and culture, and its use in mottos and coats of arms was a common phenomenon. Here I just headcanon that one of the Blacks either had a strange sense of humour, or wanted to put an end to the ancient feud of the Blacks with all things French and start the family on some new beginnings. Maybe they married someone with French roots to expand their influence.

Of course, all this can be explained differently. The headcanon that the Blacks have some French part also makes sense. But for me personally, that's not so interesting, considering the obvious connections of the Lestranges and Rosiers with France (Vinda Rosier, Lestrange family Mausoleum in Paris). I prefer the Blacks who are so arrogant that they even consider themselves "true English wizards," not "like those Malfoys." And I headcanon that this was not a real confrontation, but rather a pretext for jokes and fuel for greater kindling of their vanity.

#pureblood society #hp meta #the noble and most ancient house of black

111 notes · View notes

iamnmbr3 · 2 months

Text

Draco's Motivations in the Book 7 Room of Requirement Confrontation

I just reread the Fiendfyre sequence and based on a close reading Draco's motivations and actions are a lot more complex and sympathetic than I remembered. Not to mention, once again, here there be drarry.

First, the context:

After the incident at Malfoy Manor, we know from Harry's psychic connection to Voldemort and from the Carrows' overheard discussion that Voldemort's wrath was exceptionally terrible. The Malfoy family became virtual prisoners in their own homes for months and were subjected to especially brutal (even by Voldemort's standards) torture that was also likely quite protracted. Lucius has visible marks on him months later - which, given what we know about magic in that world, really speaks to the level of what has been going on. While he probably got the worst of it, it's certain that none of his family members escaped unscathed. After their other failings they have at this point probably permanently fallen out of favor and have nothing but a (likely short) life of misery to look forward to.

Draco bears a lot of responsibility for this state of affairs since it was he who chose not to identify Harry. This likely adds to his sense of conflict as his conscience tells him one thing and everything he has ever been taught tells him something else. He presumably feels responsible for the suffering his family (we know from book 6 that he does genuinely care about them) has to endure.

Not to mention that he himself is suffering along with them. It would be unsurprising therefore if he felt tempted to "rectify" his earlier moment of what he probably perceived as weakness and made a last ditch attempt to save his parents' (and his own) lives and prestige. While Harry has been taught that love and mercy are noble and valuable impulses, Draco has not. In his world love and mercy are called weakness.

Quite possibly as he suffered and faced death alongside his family, part of him must have felt ashamed of the impulses that led to his choices when Harry was a prisoner at the Manor. Everything he has been taught tells him that Voldemort's victory is inevitable and that his moment of shameful weakness has accomplished nothing except to fail his own family and condemn them (and himself) to a likely short life filled with suffering.

At most what we see in the Room of Requirement is a replay of what we saw on the Astronomy Tower - where Draco is deeply conflicted and when confronted with the reality of violence in support of Voldemort cannot go through with it even under tremendous pressure and even though his failure to carry out these acts of violence will inflict danger and suffering on himself and his loved ones.

But, is that even what actually happens? In my opinion, the answer is "no."

The scene in question:

If we actually look at the text it's not even clear that's what's going on at all. Draco's motives are ambiguous at best here. The scene starts when Harry is stretching out his hand to take the diadem. Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle come up behind him and he is completely unaware of them. Draco then announces their presence, alerting Harry that he is being watched. He could've very easy simply stunned Harry or attempted to put the Imperius Curse on him (or killed him) while his back was turned. But he didn't do any of those things. Instead he talks, thereby ruining the element of surprise.

And that's not typical of Draco at all when he actually wants to attack Harry. He's never beaten Harry in a face-to-face confrontation. (In fact, the last time he tried - in 6th year - he almost ended up dead.) The two times he has managed to incapacitate Harry - when he petrified him on the train in 6th year and when he hid and caught Harry for Umbridge with a tripping jinx in 5th year - he did so by using the element of surprise to his advantage.

Given that Draco knows that Harry is a very formidable opponent (AND that Harry's friends are nearby) if he truly simply wanted to capture or kill him, announcing his presence is the last thing he would ever do. Then he says "That's my wand you're holding." He still doesn't cast any spells - not even to try to disarm Harry. He also doesn't say he wants to hand him over to Voldemort. He doesn't even tell Harry to drop his own wand, attempt to take him prisoner, or even threaten him.

It is Crabbe, not Draco who says "We're gonna be rewarded...We decided to bring you to 'im." Draco doesn't say anything about his own intentions other than that he wants his wand back - and we certainly know that even in 6th year he didn't trust Crabbe and Goyle, much less now, and thus is unlikely to speak openly in front of them.

At this point Ron comes to investigate and Crabbe tries to use magic to cause a mountain of debris to fall on Ron and crush him. Harry counters the spell and Draco then grabs Crabbe's arm when he tries to repeat the spell. He gives as his justification the need to avoid the diadem being crushed but since we know he doesn't trust Crabbe it's likely this isn't truthful. Especially since Voldemort has not said anything about wanting the diadem (and even if it wasn't a Horcrux it likely wouldn't be damaged in any case).

Crabbe points out this very thing and Draco argues with him at which point Crabbe says "Who cares what you think? I don't take your orders no more, Draco. You an' your dad are finished." So arguably he was not even including Draco in the "We" he imagined would be rewarded. Crabbe then tries to use Crucio on Harry.

Draco then again intervenes and tries to stop him.

"STOP" Malfoy shouted at Crabbe, his voice echoing through the enormous room. "The Dark Lord wants him alive--"

He doesn't even just say it. He shouts. We rarely see Draco shout. He is someone who generally keeps his deeper emotions hidden - it's why he's so naturally gifted at Occlumency to the point that he is powerful enough at a young age to lie to both Snape and Voldemort.

What he says here doesn't really even make sense because Goyle isn't even trying to kill Harry; he's just trying to hurt him. However Draco is so distressed by this that he actually starts yelling, something we NEVER see him do at ANY other point in the book. "The Dark Lord wants him alive" is also exactly what Snape says to Bellatrix as they flee in book 6, and we know that Snape's real intent was to protect Harry with a believable excuse. It's the only thing Draco could reasonably say in that moment as a justification.

Crabbe (rather sensibly) points out that 1) he didn't even try to kill Harry and 2) Voldemort ultimately wants Harry dead so it probably doesn't matter that much. This makes perfect sense. And yet Draco is inordinately concerned with preventing harm to Harry & Co rather than with taking any action to capture or even disarm any of them.

Clearly he did not expect to lose control of Crabbe and Goyle like this and as a result is now losing control of the situation (and himself). (Unlike Harry, Draco is more of a planner and is not as good at reacting in the moment.) Also the possibility that Harry could be killed seems to drive him nearly to the point of hysteria - rather like how Ron reacted to Hermione being in mortal peril at the Manor. This is not just a general aversion to killing. This is something more. He finds the idea of Harry dying truly unbearable. (I don't need my ships to be canon; this one just happens to be.)

At this point they start fighting and Draco loses Narcissa's wand. Wandless, he STILL tries to intervene. Crabbe and Goyle are both aiming their wands at Harry and Draco once again starts yelling - "Don't kill him! DON'T KILL HIM!" and is obviously in significant distress and is not at all happy with what is going on.

After that the Fiendfyre gets loose and the rest of the scene goes down without much dialogue.

At NO POINT does Draco 1) actually say he wants to hand Harry to Voldemort OR 2) attempt to attack Harry or Ron or Hermione at all OR 3) use his Dark Mark to call Voldemort OR 4) tell anyone he's seen Harry after they get out of the Room of Requirement - even in a later scene when he's been cornered by a Death Eater who is considering killing him he doesn't reveal this information even though that probably would've proven his loyalty or at the very least distracted the Death Eater.

Conclusions about Draco's motivations:

So, where does that leave us? What went down there and what was Draco trying to do?

We really have 3 options.

Option 1: Draco tried to hand Harry over to Voldemort in order to save himself and his family, got cold feet and couldn't really go through with it, and then lost control of the situation due to Crabbe and Goyle's changing loyalties.

Verdict: Possible but unlikely given the remarkably bad job he does of it and how inconsistent his approach is with his usual MO. Even if we assume his heart wasn't in it you'd think he'd at least have got as far as disarming Harry before announcing his presence. Especially since Harry almost killed him last time they fought (and Draco probably doesn't know Harry didn't know what the Sectum Sempra curse would do.)

And if his heart WAS in it then then this makes even less sense since he not only didn't attack Harry while his back was turned but also didn't call Voldemort or even inform anyone that he'd seen Harry.

Option 2: Draco wanted to get himself captured in a way that looked convincing so that he could take the chance Dumbledore offered in 6th year, only it went quite badly wrong.

Verdict: This would be an interesting possibility but I think it's also unlikely as it's simply too risky. He doesn't know Harry was there on the astronomy tower or that Harry would make the same offer. His family would also likely be murdered if Voldemort realized this had happened.

Option 3: Draco wanted to cut a deal in order to improve his family's situation without actually handing Harry over - perhaps he hoped for some kind of exchange where he could get his wand back and bring Voldemort the diadem as some kind of consolation prize - but overestimated his control over his cronies and lost control of the situation.

Verdict: I actually think this works best given his behavior during the scene. He initiates a conversation because he wants information about what and where the diadem is (and what value it would have to Voldemort) and because he wants to make some offer along the lines of 'give me my wand and the diadem and we'll let you go.' This could get him what he wants and help his family without actually harming anyone.

Also it hedges his bets a bit because if Harry wins he will owe Draco. The problem of course is that Crabbe and Goyle aren't happy to just take orders anymore and have their own goals. At that point, instead of caving and going along with what Crabbe and Goyle want to do instead, Draco actually tries to intervene, albeit in a way that doesn't actually expose him as questioning Voldemort.

Draco made his choice at the Manor. If he wanted to hand Harry over he would have. But he couldn't. He cares about him too much. But he also feels tremendous guilt and fear over the price he and his family are still paying for that decision. This is his attempt to try to fix things - to try to find a middle ground between the conflicting imperatives that are tearing him apart. The reality though, as he shortly discovers, is that there is no middle ground. And when he sees that, once again he chooses Harry.

#hp reread #meta #my meta #Harry Potter meta #Draco Malfoy meta #drarry meta #Harry Potter #harry potter and the deathly hallows #hpdm #h/d #harry x draco #draco x harry #harry/draco #draco/harry #harco #drarry in canon #Draco Malfoy #drarry #my post

139 notes · View notes