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pickinglilahs · 4 months

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NB!Harry (Drarry, My Loves) Ch. 12

AO3 link, Chapter 1 Ch 11, Ch 13 This chapter be Spicy 🔥 MDNI 18+ Unlike the last spicy chapter, this is 2.7K of pure filth. And by filth, I mean adorable, tender, loving, toe-curling, squeal-inducing, leg-kicking, slightly dom/sub, body-worship.

Draco and Haze agreed to skip the library and go back to the dorms after class.

Slughorn had let everyone who'd successfully brewed Felix Felicis keep a 12-hour vial as a reward. So, most of their class was also heading back to their rooms to store the potion somewhere safe.

Stopping at Draco's room first, he stored the vial in a jewelry box alongside some of his other valuables. Draco locked the box, then placed it in his truck, locking that as well.

Picking up his bag, Draco walked back over to Haze, who had waited by the door. Taking their hand, the two went to Haze's room.

While Haze was digging around their trunk, trying to find a safe spot for the potion, Draco took off his shoes, grabbed a book from his bag, and sat on the bed.

Satisfied the potion would be safe, Haze shut their trunk and came around the bed to where Draco sat. He set the book aside immediately to pull them up onto the bed; Haze came willingly, straddling his lap.

Haze was in trousers today, but Draco could feel the tall socks underneath as one hand rubbed over their knee. The other hand was settled farther up, on their hip, fingers playing at their waistband where their shirt was tucked in.

Haze had their hands in their lap, chin tucked and eyes downcast. Frowning, Draco dropped his head a bit, trying to catch their eye.

Nothing.

"Haze?"

No response.

"Mon Ange?"

Haze's eyes darted to Draco's before quickly looking away again. Sighing, Draco lifted the hand from Haze's knee to their chin. Tipping their face gently, Draco waited for them to look at him before he spoke.

"I need you to talk to me, Mon Ange. I can't read your mind; I'm not that good at Legilimency."

Haze huffed a bitter laugh. "Yeah, well, I'm pants at Occlumency so I doubt you'd have any trouble." They closed their eyes, face turning slightly away in Draco's hold.

Frowning, he studied them. It had been a joke, nothing of consequence. But there was something in Haze's reaction that gave Draco pause. When did they study- Oh. Draco pulled Haze to him, holding tight.

"I will never invade your privacy like that. I-" love you. Draco almost confessed right there. Merlin. What else could he say?

He buried his face in Haze's hair to keep from saying anything stupid. Haze's arms were trapped between the two of them and they squirmed, slightly uncomfortable.

Draco quickly pulled back, taking Haze's face in both hands. I love you. "I would never. Will never."

Haze nodded slightly, a ghost of a smile lighting their eyes; relief plain on their face.

"And now I've sidetracked us, haven't I?"

A real smile crawled onto Haze's face then.

"Did you want to talk? It seemed like you were going to say something before."

Haze frowned in confusion and shook their head. "No. I don't think so."

"Hmm..." Draco studied them, one hand stayed on their cheek, brushing his thumb back and forth, while the other dropped down behind their back, pulling them closer. He could have sworn Haze was about to say something, but their confusion was genuine.

"In that case,"

Draco had intended to talk to them about the book Hermione had given him, but with Haze in his lap like that, it was a little hard to think.

Draco kissed them.

Firm and sure, Draco's lips danced with Haze's, drawing out a gasp before they sighed into his touch. Their hands traveled up, one sliding into Draco's hair, the other coming to rest on his jaw.

Draco nibbled on their bottom lip before sucking it into his mouth completely. Haze whimpered, and Draco's tongue followed the sound, wanting to swallow it. Haze opened for him, loving the feel of Draco's tongue ravaging their mouth.

Haze could live here. Draco's arms around them, his sweet scent filling their nose, mouth drowning in the taste of his mint tea. They didn't have a care in the world.

The world didn't even exist.

The only thought in Haze's head was 'Draco.'

Draco's hand moved from Haze's cheek to their hair. His fingers went to the base of their neck, wrapping around the strands till he had a firm hold. Gently, he tilted Haze's head just right so he could kiss them deeper.

Haze sucked a sharp breath in at the complete control Draco had just gained over them, then whimpered, falling completely pliant in his arms. Draco could have done anything to them in that moment, and Haze would have gone willingly.

As if sensing their submission, Draco growled low. The sound reverberated through Haze, sending a shiver straight down to their core. They ground down against him, both moaning at the friction.

Draco tilted Haze's head farther to the side. He trailed his lips down their jaw, nibbling up to their ear. "Tell me what you want, Mon Ange."

Haze whimpered, "You."

Draco growled again. He dropped his head to their shoulder and took a deep breath. It took all of his self-control not to take Haze right then and there. That wasn't what they meant, and he knew it. He also knew that Haze would let him take them anyway, and he didn't want that, not if it wasn't what Haze wanted too.

Not sure what they'd done wrong, Haze whimpered again, in alarm this time.

Draco kissed their shoulder reassuringly before pulling back to look at them. "Me what, Haze? Tell me what you want."

Haze looked confused and a bit distressed. "Want... Want you."

Draco blinked. No. Surely not. "Want me to do what, Mon Ange?"

Haze whimpered, not understanding. They didn't know what they wanted, let alone how to ask for it; they just knew they wanted Draco.

Fuck.

"Okay, Chaton. I've got you." Draco leaned in to kiss Haze gently and they sighed into him.

They trusted him.

Completely.

Draco crossed his legs, putting one hand under Haze to lift them slightly. Then he leaned forward to lay them gently down on the bed, never breaking the kiss. He shifted to put one knee on either side of Haze for better leverage, all but sitting on their lap.

Slowly pulling his hand from Haze's hair, Draco made sure not to catch his fingers on their curls. Sensing him pulling away, Haze clung to Draco's neck. But he didn't go any farther.

In fact, Draco trailed kisses down Haze's neck to their collarbone. His hands found the buttons on Haze's shirt and slowly began working them open.

Once Haze realized what Draco was doing, they stiffened. His hands paused, but Draco kept kissing and licking at Haze's neck. It only took a moment for them to relax. A particularly firm bite to the tendons in Haze’s neck making them cry out, going pliant once more.

Once they had, Draco nibbled his way back up to Haze's ear. "You're beautiful, Haze."

Only then did his hands continue with the buttons, making short work of them.

Haze whimpered at the words and gasped as Draco's hands made contact with the bare skin of their stomach.

Draco pulled back enough to see their face, hands resting solidly on Haze's sides. Their shirt had fallen open a little when he pushed his hands in, but Draco had no intention of looking. Not yet.

He stared down into Haze's wide eyes. "You are beautiful, Haze Potter. In any and every form you take, you are beautiful."

Something had changed in Haze's face. Before, they had been completely submissive for him. But now? Draco wasn't sure.

"Wh-Wh-What-What-What if y-you d-d-d-d-don-don-don't like w-wh-what y-y-you s-s-s-see?"

Damn.

Draco was shaking his head before Haze had even finished. "I don't-"

Draco paused. Was it insensitive to say he didn't care what they looked like? Especially since they were still trying to figure themself out? Draco wanted to be supportive, not dismissive. He switched gears.

"That doesn't matter to me. It never has. It's only ever been you. I'm Haze-sexual. Whatever form you take is what I want."

The hope and disbelief warred on their face. Draco was just going to have to make them believe him then.

Leaning in, Draco brought their lips together softly.

"You're Beautiful." He breathed

He ran his thumbs over Haze's sides, sending goosebumps scattering over their skin.

"Absolutely Beautiful." Across their jaw.

He trailed his lips back down to their collarbone, hands beginning to roam up and down their sides. Haze shivered beneath him, body on fire.

"Beautiful." In the hollow of their throat.

He kissed down their sternum before nosing their shirt further apart. He left kisses over every inch of their skin as it was revealed.

"Beautiful." Into their chest.

Haze tightened their grip on Draco's shoulder and hair as his mouth found one of their nipples. He nosed at it. Kissed it gently. Gave it a long lick, eyes looking up to meet Haze's.

"Beautiful." Across their puckered bud.

Then he slowly took it into his mouth. He suckled. Nibbled. Blew air across it. Then turned to play with the other one, spurred on by the breathy moans each action drew.

"Beautiful." A praise.

Continuing his ministrations, Draco's hands slid down Haze's covered thighs. Gripping and caressing, his hands roamed, slowly making their way up to Haze's belt.

"Beautiful." A veneration.

Draco rested his hands on the buckle, giving Haze plenty of time to stop him. They whined at him, arching into his touch. He smiled, kissing their sternum again.

"Beautiful." A thank you.

He shifted further down, slowly undoing their belt, trailing kisses further down. He undid the button and zipper, looking up as Haze took the hand from his shoulder to drape over their eyes. He kissed right above their waistband.

"Beautiful." A prayer.

He hooked his fingers in their pants and Haze lifted their hips obediently. Moving off them for a moment, Draco removed their pants and trousers completely. He took a moment to appreciate the view. Tall socks; open shirt; love bites trailing up their collarbone and neck.

"Beautiful." A devotion.

Throwing one knee back over them, Draco braced himself on one hand. Pulling their arm away from their face Draco smiled. He brought Haze's hand to his mouth, holding their gaze and kissing their palm.

"Beautiful." A promise.

Draco shuffled back so he was resting between their legs. Holding Haze's gaze, he placed a pillow under their head, then moved to place one under their hips.

"Beautiful." An adoration.

Haze went to cover their face again, but Draco caught their wrist. He guided their hand gently to the headboard and they gripped it tightly.

"You're too beautiful to hide, Mon Ange. I want to see you."

They shut their eyes, not knowing how to handle the intensity of his gaze. Draco's heart hurt; he would make them believe it, even if it killed him.

Kissing them gently, Draco moved down. Starting at their socked claves, he kissed his way up one leg.

"Beautiful." A caress.

At the top of one sock, he licked a stripe up their inner thigh. Before he got to their center, Draco shifted to do the same on the other side, kissing up their calf and licking his way up.

"Beautiful." A groan.

He peppered kisses over their inner thighs, up the creases of their legs. He nuzzled into the dark curls right above where they were aching for his touch. Haze whimpered.

"Beautiful." A growl.

Settling down, Draco wrapped his arms under Haze's thighs and looked up to their face. They had their eyes scrunched shut, both hands white-knuckling the headboard.

"Tell me to stop, Mon Ange."

They shook their head violently, whining alarmed at the thought. Smiling, Draco took a long, slow lick right up their center. Choking on a gasp, Haze arched their back in pleasure.

This was what they had wanted. Had needed. Had been unable to voice. For Draco to do as he pleased with them.

"Beautiful." Hungry

Licking his lips, Draco dived in. He couldn't get enough. The sounds. The taste. The quivering in their thighs when he found that bundle of nerves.

Pulling one arm back, Draco slowly ran a finger up and down their wetness as his tongue played with their clit. One of Haze's hands came down to grip his hair. Their legs tried to squeeze around Draco's ears, but he kept a firm grip on the one, hand coming around to hold their hips in place.

"Draco."

A gasp.

A plea.

A prayer.

Sucking on the throbbing bundle of nerves, he slid a single finger into them. Haze cried out in pleasure, arching into Draco.

Adding a second finger, Draco pulled his mouth back to blow cool air against them. Haze's whole body shuddered, and they whimpered.

Draco smiled and crooked his fingers. He growled as Haze jumped, a moan breaking free as their hand yanked on Draco's hair.

Tapping at the spot inside them with his fingers, Draco attacked their clit with his tongue once more. Haze cried out, their whole body trembling as every nerve was set on fire. Heat pooled as Draco devoured them.

"Draco!"

They could feel their pleasure mounting, Draco chasing it higher and higher. When it finally snapped, Haze shrieked. Eyes rolling back, body trembling, Draco sent them flying over the edge.

They spasmed, whole body arching in pleasure. Draco carried them through the pleasure, slowing as they gradually came down.

But he didn't stop.

When they relaxed, Draco added a third finger, leaving one crooked as he pumped his hand steadily. Haze cried out in alarm, pleasure quickly building once more.

He sucked on Haze's clit again, and they sobbed on a moan. Draco hummed at the sound, the vibrations throwing them over the edge for a second time.

Body jerking, they sobbed. "Draco!"

Still, he didn't stop.

Didn't slow.

Moving his hand faster, harder, he pulled his head back a little, shifting his thumb to rub over their abused clit. Draco's jaw ached and he could feel the drool and slick dripping down his chin. His senses were overwhelmed with Haze.

Glancing up, Draco relished in the sight. Haze's head was thrown back, mouth parted, breathy whines accompanying the desperation on their face. They began rocking their hips against him, hurtling toward the edge once more.

Turning his head to press a kiss to their thigh, he whispered against them. "One more for me, Chaton. I know you can."

They sobbed a moan. Half-formed words tried to make their way out, but the only clear thing that reached Draco was 'please.'

Draco growled. "Come for me, Chaton." He bit down on Haze's soft inner thigh, and they screamed.

Body seizing, heart stuttering, breath choking, eyes rolling back, they did just as he told them.

He kept his hand moving till their body fell limp. Hands dropping to the bed, head falling to the side, they were spent and completely boneless.

Only then did Draco slowly pull back. Fascinated, he pulled his fingers free. They were coated in Haze's clear slick, but, thankfully, there was no blood.

The book Hermione had given him had warned him that could happen. It was also where he learned that he shouldn't use a cleaning charm just now.

Gazing up at them, Draco licked his fingers clean, admiring the peaceful look on their face and the occasional aftershock that was still twitching through them. After his fingers, Draco dipped back down to lick up the last of the mess he'd made.

Haze whimpered and squirmed, oversensitive. Their hand came back to Draco's hair, not pushing away, and too weak to hold on properly. Aftershocks wracked them, overstimulation just the right side of painful.

Draco gave one last lick to their folds and a final kiss to their clit. Only then did he pull back completely. Wiping his face on his sleeve, Draco sat back to admire his work.

"Beautiful." I love you.

Draco shed his shirt and trousers before crawling up the bed to lay beside them in just his pants. On his side, Draco reached one hand out to brush a stray curl from Haze's face.

Their eyes fluttered for a moment as they turned into the touch, seeking him. Smiling Draco trailed his fingers down their nose, over their cheeks. His thumb caught their abused lower lip; Haze must have been biting it. Or maybe that had been Draco's doing.

Shifting, they whined at him, only half awake now. Smiling, Draco reached for them. He shifted the two of them around, not bothering to mess with Haze's state of dress. He pulled the covers up over the two of them and wrapped his arm tightly around Haze, their back pressed firmly against his chest, one leg between their thighs, arm supporting their head.

"Sleep, Chaton. I've got you."

Just like that, Haze dropped off into dreams.

Draco closed his eyes too, an overwhelming sense of peace engulfing him. He had never been allowed this before- to be anything like this.

In control

Tender

Giving

Maybe he didn't need to worry about telling Haze he loved them after all.

Maybe he just had.

@bradley-95147-blog @shyshadows430

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cluelesspigeons · 10 months

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All These Little Things

An HD Wireless fanfiction

Prompt: Little Things by One Direction

Rating: mature (M)

Word count: 1.7k

Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter

Characters: Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter

Additional tags: Song: Little Things (One Direction), Fluff, pure fluff, Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, but only if you really read between the lines, Body Dysphoria, Body Worship, Boys Kissing, Neck Kissing, Love Bites, Ibiza, supportive boyfriend, smiling, Lots of Smiling, laughing, Feel-good, Suggestive Themes

Summary: Harry loves Draco, and all his little things as well.

Notes: my very short contribution to @hd-wireless this year :))

Read it on ao3

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ricihh · 20 days

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DRACOLODIE FIC IS HERE ‼‼‼ I love them so much, they're my babies gahhhhh

Anyway, femdom n pegging because Draco is such a girlfailure 😋

Rating: E

Fandom: Brawl Stars

Relationship: Draco/Melodie

Main Tags: Smut, PwP, Femdom, Pegging, Trans Female Character, Hair-pulling, Worship, Begging, Praise n Degradation Kink, Dom/sub

Warnings: No TWs

Summary: The day that Draco would perform on the same stage as Melodie finally arrived. Seeing his positive result, Melodie decided to go to his dressing room and remind him that no matter how hard he tried, she would still be the only star there.

Draco wasn't objecting, though.

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sp1derc1der · 8 months

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I might add more to the Draco Scaled AU, so I have two dragons freshly baked out of the oven!

Y’all know Prof. Sada and Prof. Turo, right? I made them dragons.

Prof. Sada’s dragon form’s an Archeopteryx-based cockatrice that runs on solar power (that Protosynthesis can go hard) whereas Prof. Turo’s dragon form’s a basilisk (not the Harry Potter one) who’s able to paralyze foes with a single glare. He can also electrify the ground (Quark Drive goes crazy!)

Now to design Arven’s dragon form (help i can’t decide whether i want his dragon form to be scarlet or violet pls help ;^;)

#draco scaled au #dragon au #dragons #pokemon #professor sada #professor turo #pokemon scarlet and violet #dragon art #artists on tumblr #archaeopteryx based dergs #worship the future snake guys

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underwittingly · 9 months

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just remember that when i draw drarry harry is my self insert. i want to [REDACTED] [REDACTED] [REDACTED] draco but unfortunately we are dimensions apart so i will just get harry to do that for me! that being said i am actually very normal about him

#thoughts #draco has everything i love in a thing #his colour scheme is so SO SO good #he's a spoiled little brat and a twink and mean and morally grey #draco malfoy #i dont know how to explain it but he has this charm to him that only people who have gotten everything handed to them since birth have #in the self righteous and snotty way #that just makes you want to take something away from him #also it is human nature to want to desecrate beautiful things #i want to coddle and pamper and worship him but also cut him open at the same time!#ok i will stop now

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skylordaleksander · 1 year

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Lucius Malfoy is just wizard Ted Cruz

#harry potter #ted cruz #lucius malfoy #draco malfoy #politics #no spine #worships a dark lord who hates him #has a smug punchable face

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themalfoysignetring · 1 year

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I just posted the first chapter of my first fic!

*screams into the void*

Check out Idle Worship by themalfoysignetring on AO3!

#dramione #dramione fandom #dramione fanfic #idle worship #themalfoysignetring #draco angst #draco malfoy #hermione granger #hermione x draco #ao3 writer #fanfiction writer

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justapcpblog · 1 year

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A rant on destruction/violence

Awhile back, someone wrote an article on how to work with villains, and I personally disagreed with it. Doesn't mean it shouldn't exist, doesn't mean I or you should cancel them out of existence. We all have our ways of religion, and we all have our UPGs. We all have our ways of interpreting characters, and who we should work with, as well. I don't like someone telling me I can't work with x character because they're too problematic. But just because someone tells me to NOT do something doesn't mean that I should listen to them. I have myself and the spiritual beings that I choose to listen to.

I also noticed that someone else seems to have gotten annoyed over people dissing ritual cleansing and pointed out that the Left's obsession of fighting their opponents could itself be self-harmful. It doesn't seem like this went over very well for them, since they've been somewhat quiet, only peeping out when they can't hold back any longer. aggressive at times. It's not the only person in the Pop Culture Pagan community who went quiet after getting into a fight. Another pointed out that they had someone message them something personal and weird, and in disgust and fright they abandoned their social practice, their blog.

A lot of Pop Culture Pagan articles have actually been deleted, and many thoughts have thus been erased through the sands of time. Whether through creator embarressment, a character or god asking them to pull it down, or through the sheer intensity of cancel culture, many important documents and practices have perished. It's incredibly important to keep writing if you want a community to survive. Deleting posts is not that much different than burning a book. Even if you're feeling author's shame or don't believe in the thing anymore, these thoughts are still building blocks for the community. If you want more Pop Culture Pagans to exist, then you're going to have to have stuff for people to convert with. You don't have to convert them yourself Jehovah's Witness style, knocking on people's doors to inform them about Lord Voldemort. You just need to let them have the chance to stumble upon your writings and let them decide for themselves or let the egragores call them on their own. Without Pop Culture Pagan writings, the idea of worshipping a character is only a scary, delusional person. I can't remember any media that had someone worship a character at an altar, but I'm sure I've seen it. Maybe it was that Tangled bobble-head bad date one, where she had a million of them in her closet, including a headless one. Can't remember if she had an altar though.

Disgust and fear over fans turning their obsessions into religion is not only found in TV. In real life, Anissa Weier and Morgan Geyser both worshipped a villain and attempted to sacrifice a real human for it. I don't know if either of them were Pop Culture *Pagans* per se, but they were certainly doing a Pop Culture based religion that had roots in Satanism. Just because many of us utilize Chaos Magick, rooted in Wicca, doesn't mean that other Pop Culture based religions are invalid. However, people have a real reason to be scared of it, if they do find it. To what ends would someone go to honor a character? Murder, apparently. This is the problem with honoring dark spirits. They're *evil*. They are bad.

When Pagans who don't honor Pop Culture characters honor their deities, they usually don't include a traditional sacrifice. Nowadays Pagans sacrifice regular food, including pre-killed meat, and plenty of fruits and vegetables. In fact, we usually don't even call it a sacrifice, it's an offering. And it's not much of a sacrifice unless you have to throw the food away after or the god ruins the taste of it for you. However some modern Pagans do sacrifice. Their are farmers who kill goats and chickens in the name of their gods. Some Mesamerican followers bloodlet. A vast majority of Pagans do not wish to participate in killing an animal and most of the time the gods don't ask, disallow it, or allow the human to not give them the thing.

But historically polytheistic and monotheistic religions alike have demanded their humans to kill for them, including on their behalf. Whether that's the Aztecs requiring one human be killed per day, or whether it's the Jewish God telling Moses to kill all the Midianite males and non-virgin females above the age of 14, spiritual entities have been demanding death for literally thousands of years. European gods sent their people to war and burned white slaves and wives to die when their husbands did. There have been religions thousands of years ago that rejected sacrifice of animals and humans and required compassion, such as Buddhism and Jainism. However historically most human societies have a religion that demands death in some form or another.

Humans are incredibly brutal, and many people have developed misanthropy over the sheer need others have for violence. We can see it every day on TV and video games. How many of these suggest that the enemies deserve to be spared, requiring minimal damage? Not a lot! Even if Batman doesn't kill, he still beats the shit out of them. Some people have suggested that violence on TV and video games makes people more violent, and in my personal experience there's some truth in that. But I also think that violence on TV really helps to keep people in check, forcing them to stay at home and watch the bad guys die and root for the good guys, and noticeably murders and mobs went down, for awhile anyways. More people started advocating for death sentences to no longer be legal. Or maybe that's just a coincidence.

It would do well to remember that most of our thoughts on keeping violence in check are from the past hundred years or so, and in our times compassion fades away. In the 2000s I was afraid of terrorists from an uncivilized, barbaric nation where they deemed women as sub-human livestock and kept variatns of a stupid religion that fed these terrorists. Terroritsts whose god literally demanded them to kill others, rape, and even sacrifice themselves with the promise of 72 “goodies” waiting for them in heaven. Nowadays I'm afraid of them AND more relevantly, domestic terrorism. The two extreme political fashions of the era. One demands death to people who believe in the right of believing that two solid sexes exist and that people of European descent cannot truly repent for their sins but probably should try the best they can, but really they should just all die off and never be seen on the face of the earth again. The other I understand less, but it seems that their misanthropy and hatred for modern culture tips them into shooting up people in schools, Jewish temples, and other public places. Our intense desire to change society in whatever way we imagined has put so much pressuure on each other that it drives us all insane. That's my opinions on the matter, and I'm not asking you to tell me yours. It's just that I'm afraid, and you reading this right now, you probably are too.

I worry that soon, we'll all tip back into time and start believing in death in ways I think not all of us do. I worry that we'll think lynchings are perfectly moral, that killing one another for our own beliefs is valid. And in my opinion, it's not. Violence isn't okay. We have to kill to eat, that's how some omnivores feel, but we don't have to kill each other. We could like, just get over it and not worry about it so much. We could stop joking about it so much, we could choose to stop threatening other people, seriously or non-seriously. We could stop telling people to kill themselves. Many of the things I was taught were horrible as a teenager are so open now. Do you know how many Tiktoks I've watched that advocate and laugh at child abuse? These videos would have been taken down and those users banned back in my day. And now it's just funny, or even cultural celebration. Why is it that parents beating up children is seen as funny?

Destruction is a feature of villainy. It tears apart the world. It breaks culture apart and people have to pick up the pieces and try again, start anew. Fighting is an important part of villainy. Some villains don't like to get their hands dirty and let everybody else do the murdering or arguments for them. Some villains just get angry and kill people who piss them off. Some villains just need to get them out of their way. Some are psychopathic and enjoy feeling the life drain from their victim as their hands wrap around their throat. It's like a cat playing with a mouse, a predator's instinct.

When people cry out, “no! My villain wouldn't do this! He's too good!” that's what we'd call Draco In Leather Pantsing back in the day. If you think a villain is too good for rape, and there's nothing in canon that supports that claim, then you're probably wrong. Villains are evil. Headcanons are valid, and if you stick with your opinion that's fine, but maybe also wonder “is the character I like willing to torture peope?” I'm reminded of how Shadow The Hedgehog said in a video game that he'd steal candy from a baby, and recently a cartoon came out showing him stealing popcorn from a chao and ignoring it as it burst into tears. If that wasn't canon, especially way back in the day when I was playing that actual game, I would have said that was OOC and they were over emo-ing him. But look, now its literally canon. Hilarious.

When working with any spiritual entity, they may demand something of you that isn't necessarily safe, for you or for others. As these beings work on your mind, they may even try to trick or twist you into believing that these things are okay. Sometimes you do need to bend, but sometimes you need to take a stand. Villains can be villainous sometimes, and they may start getting aggressive. An egragore acting in a canonical fashion might be as seriouss as Slender Man demanding literal murder. But you don't have to do everything for them. You can have boundaries. You need to set boundaries when working with characters that disrupt them in volatile ways. You can disagree with their points of views. You can have a choice (usually). Sometimes that may mean that those characters or some of their aspects won't work with you. Well, fuck 'em. You can appreciate them as a character and choose to not work with them. It's okay to keep the relationship as a fan rather than an worshipper. But sometimes you do have to cut ties with them, because deciding that they're a real entity does mean that everything changes. You get to communicate with one another, usually crudely, and sometimes circumstances demand that you make a choice to try to cut them out in the best way possible. Or it may not be the best outcome.

It's your choice over what to do, what to believe, and who to honor. I advocate that you seek out non-violent forms of Paganism. I suggest that you work on yourself to make yourself more calm, peaceful, happy, and self-fulfilled (god fulfilled?). But our religions don't always dictate that we be happy, and our gods don't always dictate that we be compassionate and peaceful, and our own belief-sets (ourselves) don't always tell us to be genuinely good people who respects others' personal beliefs and lives. But I hope that you find yourself in a place where your egragores support you rather than abuse you, and I hope that you support others who have those same beings abuse them, and I hope that you don't allow harm to come onto others. Have a good day, and happy Valentines' day.

Note: I tried to save a lobster at a seafood restaurant today and I was told that I wasn't allowed to because they had a food license and could not sell me the lobster alive. I ate lobster anyways, not that one though, to my knowledge. I was just impressed with his determination to get out of the tank and had flashbacks to kidnapped fiction and thought I'd give it a go. I still feel guilty. Can you imagine an alien refusing to save your life because they'd go to jail for it? And then eating refrigerated human meat instead? What a bad person I am.

#rant #pop culture paganism #villain worship #angsty post #shadow the hedgehog #batman #draco in leather pants #nahua #judaism #christianity #violence #non-violence #regular paganism

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zriasstuff · 25 days

Text

Them after especially rough ykyk

Slytherin boys x reader (hcanons, aged up to 18 years old)

Warnings: soft smut, 16+ I’d say (?), on my shit again after a long time I’m sorry, no Draco and idc if he’s the original slytherin boy, go on Wattpad if you want Draco bc there’s enough of him on there /jk but not rlly

Theodore Nott:

you’d be incredibly flushed afterwards, panting and still holding onto the sheets for dear life

your eyes closed, lips swollen and slightly hanging open, trying to get yourself down from your high

he’d immediately hover over you (still undressed, only in boxers), both his arms on your side to support himself

“fucked you a little too good, didn’t I?”, he’d cockily ask and he’d just gently stroke your flushed cheeks with his thumb

you would counter, but your throat felt too hoarse from all the obscene noises he had coaxed out of you

“c’mon let’s get you cleaned up, you did so well for me”/“you are always so good for me, my perfect girl” he’d praise you, knowing you would let him do it all over again just for him to call you his good girl

Tom Riddle:

with Tom it’s never soft, bu when you have a especially rough session with him, it is rough

afterwards you’d most likely still be tied up by your wrists, or facing downward with your face on a pillow, insides feeling twisted and hypersensitive

you would barely be able to move and especially your legs would be quivering if you tried to get up

Tom definitely knows when you’ve reached your limits, but sometimes he actively pushes those to remind you of your place, you are there for his pleasure

He isn’t the praise type, but he’d quietly clean up and allow you to cuddle him, but only if he felt completely fulfilled

Matthew Riddle:

usually it’s a mix of rough and soft with him, but both of you need those rough sessions sometimes for a complete stress release

afterwards he’d worship you from top to bottom, leaving soft kisses from your jaw to your stomach

he’d rub over all the hickeys he left, the bruised spots and your plump (fuvked out) lips of course

while stroking your hair he would tell you how much he loved you and how amazing it was with you

he’d help you get up and go to the shower, having a soft make out session in there of course, and afterwards do whatever you wanted

mostly it’d just be cuddling or talking

Blaise Zabini:

knowing that you didn’t use your safe word, he’d still ask if you were alright

after making sure, and checking up on you he’d make you sit up and sip some water (somehow he’d always insists that)

“you think you can handle one more?”, he’d jokingly ask to make you smile after having made you (s)cream

he’d want to discuss what went well and what could be improved upon, to fuck you even better next time

although that sounds like a joke, he means it fully

when you tell him that he couldn’t possibly make you feel better, or how good he is, he just smirks, knowing no one could do what he does

Lorenzo Berkshire:

he’d totally tease you so much, especially if you begged for him to go rougher

“I knew my princess liked it rough”/“just needed someone to fuck you into your place didn’t you”/“look at you, all fucked out like some slut, and enjoying it too”

of course he’d make sure you were alright too, asking whether he went too hard

“it’s hard to control myself when it comes to you y’know”, he’d seductively murmur in his deep voice, while caressing your body

after being especially rough, he would want to be the perfect boyfriend the entire week, attending to your every wish; basically golden retriever behavior

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blondwhowrites · 1 month

Note

I NEED more of princess being shared amongst the slytherin boyssss

Mattheo would not like the idea of sharing you unless he's the one showing you off and showing everyone just who you belong to. You'll be all blissed out with Mattheo fucking you from behind while his friends just sit in front of you cooing and telling you dirty praise. Your eyes are rolled back,band you're drooling onto the floor. Mattheo has to hold you up because your legs and arms are just so tired and sore already from the several rounds of brutal fucking. The only thing running through ur head is the praises from the other boys, including Pansy, and the way Mattheo's dick is hitting your cervix each time he thrusts into you.

Mattheo occasionally lets this happen because he loves showing you off—AND he wants you to be worshipped by others.

They are lucky if he lets you suck them off because usually they have to do everything themselves—Mattheo is a possessive little shit. During these little 'sessions' he's extremely rough and prone to biting—you'll have bite marks all over your body some of them even breaking skin and dribbling blood.

Only two of the guys get special privileges—Draco and Theo. Those two are the closest to Mattheo and he trusts them with his life. Mattheo will hold you down in his lap while he lets Theo or Draco bury themselves in-between your thighs. You'll suck them off while Mattheo is fucking you and after you swallow there cum you'll even give them a sweet goodnight kiss!!

Then there's Pansy....she gets the ultimate special privilege because you absolutely adore her!!! Mattheo is all grumbly about it while he sits and watches Pansy eat you out until you're a blabbering mess—its not your fault Pansy is so good at eating your pussy ):

It's not a good week if it doesn't start with humping Pansy's clothed cunt and kissing her silly!!!!!

Princess is very loved 😤

#reader insert #slytherin boys #harry potter #chatting•°. *࿐#shitpost(⁠づ⁠｡⁠◕⁠‿⁠‿⁠◕⁠｡⁠)⁠づ #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle smut #draco malfoy x reader #enzo berkshire x reader #theodore nott x reader #blaise zabini x reader #pansy parkinson x reader

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sinsirellaxx · 2 months

Note

Hello! If you don’t do NSFW requests feel free to ignore or delete my ask, but I was wondering if you could do Toxic Slytherin Boys NSFW hcs?

Slytherin Boys – NSFW Headcanons

Warning: Toxic boys! NSFW topics

A/N: I won't be able to post as much – just wanted to let you know! Also: I'm currently not accepting new requests because I still have a few to work on. 😊

Have fun reading!

Mattheo …

… told you he couldn’t be in a relationship without sex. If you’re alright with that – no problem. If you aren’t (bc of religion or whatever) he’d be frustrated. He’ first try and guilt you into sleeping with him and if that doesn’t work, he’ll threaten to break it off with you.

… “I’ll marry you anyway, so what’s the deal?”

… would want to be intimate with you all the time. Doesn’t matter if he’s angry and he needs to let off some steam, if he’s just horny or whenever he needs reassurance or is jealous.

… wouldn’t be gentle. Not even during your first time – because he’d just not be as sensible.

… prefers to be on top with you bent over – likes the control and power he has over you.

… will immediately question your loyalty if you deny him the pleasures of your body.

… “You’re my girlfriend. If not you – who else will take care of my needs?”

Theodore …

… is a wild card: can be either crazy rough or intimidatingly sensual and soft. It depends on his mood.

… wants you to go down on him but he refuses to do the same.

… places your hand on his crotch whenever you are alone.

… does not really care if you aren’t in the mood – he’ll start kissing and caressing you either way.

… wants you to use birth control because he doesn’t want to wrap it “It feels weird around my dick”.

… loves having you on top, whenever he feels lazy. He’ll lean back against his propped-up pillows and enjoy you squirm on his lap.

Lorenzo …

… will persuade you to do things you don’t feel comfortable with.

… will want to try out different and maybe more daring things.

… will only eat you out if you blow him first “You have to earn it, baby.”

… loves leaving marks in visible places – even better if you don’t notice them until someone points them out.

… smirks whenever you open your legs for him.

… wants you to dress up in pretty lingerie for him.

… will fuck you while his roommates are sleeping – without the muffliato charm – he wants to be heard.

… “Shh, baby – it’s okay. My roommates won’t hear.”

Draco …

… acts like his dick is magical.

… cannot get you to peak but will act like you did have the best orgasm ever.

… rolls his eyes whenever you say it hurts but will still wait for you to adjust – until he gets too impatient.

… is mostly lazy, so he’ll want you to ride him most of the time.

… refuses to kiss you after you suck him off.

Blaise …

… every ‘date’ ends in sex.

… only ever calls you first because he wants to have sex.

… is not that much into foreplay – he’s more of a dip it and leave it kind of guy.

… randomly pulls you into empty rooms to push you onto your knees.

… “Show me how much you love me”

Tom …

… uses sex to relax after a long day.

… he also won’t go down on you but will expect you to worship his body. “You’re lucky I want you.”

… always degrades you and makes you believe that he is the best man you could ever have and that you are below him.

… never ‘hears’ the safe word whenever you use it “I didn’t hear you, doll. Be louder next time.”

… secretly loves when you’re bratty because that means he can put you in your place.

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theonotti · 5 months

Text

SILENT NIGHT | OS | t.n.

Pairing: Theodore Nott x fem!reader!Riddle

Word Count: 4.5k

Summary: The ghost of Christmas Eve Past haunts Theo's present, but not because he needs to change. He needs a reminder of who to never become.

Warnings: Major Character Death (Not Theo or reader), Domestic Violence (Not with Theo or reader), Hurt/Comfort, angsty, fluffy,

Notes: I'm late, but heres a Christmas one shot for Theo :)

That Final Night | Mio

Christmas Eve: Then

“Teddy? To bed, my love.”

Theo smiled from his hiding spot behind the curtains. In his eight year old mind, there’s no way she could see him. He was invisible. Behind the silky fabric, he ceased to exist. Beyond the darkness between the window and the curtain, Theo could hear the sounds of his mother’s heels tapping against the hardwood. She was close. He could see the outline of her silhouette from the other side of the thin curtain.

“Father Christmas won’t leave any presents if he knows a certain boy is still awake and hiding!” Her honey soaked voice echoed out again. Before Theo even had the chance to process her words, the curtain was ripped away and he was in his mother’s arms. She spun herself around, making Theo fell as if he was flying through the air. His shrieks of laughter bounced off the thinly decorated walls before she slowed to a halt, smiling lovingly at the wavy haired boy.

“Come, love,” She whispered to him. “I have your tea ready.”

Setting him back down to his feet, Cassundra Nott smiled down at her son before leading him out of the sitting room and down the corridor to his bedroom.

Theo didn’t like walking the halls of the mansion, despite his many years of living there. The energy in the air was always so grim, the walls bare and painted a dark grey colour. Theo was convinced that there were demons in the walls, due to the screams he could hear coming from them some nights. His mother assured him time and time again that they were only in his nightmares, but Theo was wise for his mere eight years. The nights he heard the screams being the same nights he would see his father go into the basement of the house as the young lad was ushered quickly to bed was not lost on Theo.

In fact, it only made him wonder if his father was summoning the demons, keeping them there as a way to ensure Theo stayed in line.

There was only one person who brought any slither of warmth under the cold roof of Nott Manor, and it was the woman walking a few paces ahead of him. Her golden blonde curls trailed down her back, her delicate fingers tracing an invisible line into the wall as she led Theo to his bedroom. He looked at her with such incredible awe. Theo didn’t worship any sort of God, because no God could even come close to comparing to the wonder that was Cassundra Nott. If someone told him that she hung the stars and the moon every night, and that the sun only rose because she asked it to, he would’ve easily believed them. There were few people that Theo had in the world. His father’s care for him only extended as far as keeping the Nott legacy going. So that left Theo with three people: Mattheo, Draco, and his mother. But she topped the list. In every circumstance, she topped the list.

His mother opened the door to his bedroom, ushering him inside. The dark green of the walls made the room seem much darker than Theo would like. His father insisted on the colour scheme matching that of Slytherin house, as if it would somehow eliminate the already incredibly low chances of him ending up in another house come time for him to ship off to Hogwarts. His slot in the House of the Cunning and Ambitious was as guaranteed as the snow falling in the winter, or his father downing half a bottle of whiskey before dinner. Theo wished the walls were blue, though he learned the hard way to not let that thought be anything more than a thought.

A steaming mug of tea was sitting on the bedside table, waiting for him as his mother pulled the blankets out for him. Her smile was warm as he walked over to the bed, crawling under the covers and taking the warm mug between his hands. He knew it had Calming Draught in it, as he received this same dose in his tea every Christmas Eve, as well as the evening before his birthday.

Cassundra sat on the edge of the bed as she watched Theo take a long sip from the mug.

“Are you ready for Christmas, love?” She asked gently, raking her fingers through Theo’s hair. As he swallowed the tea, he nodded vigorously.

“I hope Father Christmas got me the broom I asked for!” He exclaimed. “Mattheo let me try his new broom and it was so fast! I bet I could get to Scotland in under five minutes.”

His mother laughed softly before saying, “Under five minutes? That sounds rather fast.”

Theo nodded enthusiastically.

“I could get to Hogwarts faster than the train! I won’t even need to take it! And then I could come visit you every single evening, so you can give me a kiss and a cuddle goodnight.”

If Theo weren’t so young and oblivious, he would’ve noticed the flush that filled his mother’s cheeks, or the tender smile that pulled at the corners of her lips. Or even the sadness that filled her eyes over the idea of him leaving her.

“Well, we have a few years yet before we have to worry about that,” She said delicately. “Maybe if you don’t get a broom this year, you’ll get one the Christmas before Hogwarts?” But all this response does is make Theo groan in displeasure.

“I don’t want to wait two years! I want a broom now!”

His mother smiled at his impatience, hooking her finger underneath his chin and forcing him to look up at her.

“I know you’re excited, lovely boy,” She said in a soft voice. “But I promise you, you’re going to have a good day tomorrow. I’ve made sure to let Father Christmas know how wonderful you’ve been this year.” She scrunched up her nose as she kissed the tip of his. “He doesn’t need to know of the times you were trouble.” She tilted her head as she looked down at him. “Surely he won’t disappoint.”

Theo looked up at his mother. Of course she was right. She was right about everything. And he trusted her more than anyone else to make sure Father Christmas knew what he wanted more than anything for Christmas.

Theo finished the last of his tea, making sure he got every last drop like he always did. When he set the mug down, he smiled up at the beautiful face of his mother, who was already smiling down at him. The potion’s effects were already starting to take hold, the running wheel of his mind slowing to a halt as his eyelids grew droopy. With one hand on the back of his head and the other on his shoulder, Cassundra laid Theo down against his pillow.

“Now,” She said, her voice more stern than normal. “What are we not going to do this year?”

Theo let out a tired sigh.

“I won’t sneak down before morning to see what gifts are left for me.”

His mother nodded once, definitively.

“We don’t need another episode with your father.” In his obliviousness from ignorance and the Calming Drought effects, Theo didn’t notice the disdain in her voice, or the fear that flooded her face. Though he did remember the events of the year prior, the screaming from his father at all hours of the morning, followed by Theo being banished to his room until midday.

“I won’t sneak down again, mamma,” He said in a small voice, a yawn escaping him as his eyes began to droop shut.

Cassundra tucked the blankets in before leaning down and pressing a kiss to Theo’s forehead.

“Sleep well, il mio tesoro,” She said in a quiet whisper as the chestnut haired boy had already lost himself to his subconscious. With one last loving look, and a delicate trace down his cheek to ensure he was really sleeping, Cassundra Nott stood up from the bed and left the room, closing the door tightly behind her.

Little did she know that this would be the last time she saw her son like this.

It was only a few hours later that Theo was awoken by none other than his bladder. He squinted his eyes in the dark as he jumped out of bed, all but running from the room as quickly as his still asleep legs could take him. It wasn’t until he was in the bathroom that he started to wake up. The clock in the hallway chimed three in the morning, meaning his mother was long asleep. His father had gone out to celebrate the holidays with a few other Death Eaters, and he made sure to tell Cassundra and Theo that it was unlikely he would be home before dinner the next day.

Just one peak.

And then you’ll be back in bed.

No one will ever know.

The logic made sense to him, and before he knew it, his feet were carrying him out of the bathroom and down the hall. Walking right passed his bedroom, he went right to the stairs and slowly tiptoed down.

It wasn’t until he was halfway down the stairs that the voices registered.

“...wake Theodore, please keep your voice down.”

“How dare you police me in my own home!?”

The slur in his father’s voice was so prominent that he almost didn’t recognize him, though the yelling was a sound the young lad was deeply accustomed to. Theo sank down so he was sitting down on the edge of the step, his hands gripping the wooden poles of the bannister as he watched his mother cower. Standing behind the man of the house was a flash of long, platinum white hair with a cane that was used in this moment to stop him from swaying. Next to Lucius Malfoy was Fenrir Greyback, his arms bare despite the raging cold outside, and Antonin Dolohov, who had a flask to his mouth as he watched Nott Sr. in amusement. All of the men in the living room were inebriated beyond belief.

Cassundra swallowed hard before she spoke again. The fear was so clear cut on her face that Theo wanted to rush to her and cup her cheeks, telling her all would be okay.

“I’m not policing you…” She said in a small voice. “I just think it’s Christmas Eve, and I’m setting up for Theodore, and-”

Her words were lost to the force of Nott Sr.’s hand wrapping around her throat and slamming her against the wall. Her head was unable to bounce forward, but it was evident by the deep grimace on her face how hard it was hit. The reverberation of his mother’s body denting the drywall caused Theo to fall backwards, almost falling down the stairs entirely.

“Are you arguing with me?” Nott Sr.’s voice was so low that Theo almost couldn’t hear it. But he’d learn how to pick out that voice at a very young age. It was how he knew when to go sit quietly in his room with a book, remaining unseen and unheard.

“No!” Cassundra was able to gasp out, her hands trying and failing to pry her husband’s calloused fingers from her throat.

“That sounded like arguing to me, Nott,” Lucius piped in. “Can't let anyone think your wife wears the trousers in the household, can you?”

Theo was not a violent child, but the sound of his best friend’s father egging on the abuse of his mother was filling the eight year old’s chest with a level of anger he had never felt before. He wanted to scream. He wanted to punch. He wanted to hit and hit and hit Lucius until his big, ugly nose went flat. But the fear that his mother taught him to have of his father and the other Death Eaters pulled at his muscles, keeping him frozen on the stairs as he watched the scene unfold.

Before Theo had a moment to breathe, a wand appeared in Nott Sr.’s free hand, the tip pressed into his wife’s jugular. Theo could feel the air being ripped out of his lungs as he watched the colour leave Cassundra’s cheeks. Her face was illuminated by the twinkling lights of the Christmas tree beside her. Theo’s face was pressed against the wood, so much so that his head was almost fully squeezing between the poles.

“You ungrateful bitch,” Nott Sr. sneered angrily. “Disrespecting me in front of my colleagues.”

“Are you planning to let that slide, Nott?” Fenrir chimed in with a laugh before taking a long swig from a bottle of firewhiskey.

“Maybe I should have your voice?”

His wand didn’t even move, but a spark of light still shot out of the end, and suddenly, Cassundra’s mouth opened and closed, but no words, not even a stammer or faint whisper, came out. Hot tears spilled down Theo’s cheeks and onto his pyjama bottoms, but he didn’t notice as he watched in horror while his mother tried to speak but only air left her mouth.

Please stop.

Please don’t.

I couldn’t handle never hearing her speak again.

Or hearing her sing to me.

Or hearing her say my name.

Theo’s hands gripped the poles so tightly that his knuckles turned a blazing shade of white.

Nott Sr. threw his wife to the ground as Lucius, Fenrir and Antonin laughed in amusement, as if Nott Sr. had told a joke or done something funny. But none of this was funny. Not to Theo, who wanted to run over and protect his mother. Who wanted nothing more than to bring the same sort of pain to his father and friends that they were bringing to the most important person in his life.

“A woman must remember her place,” Nott Sr. continued on, pacing slow circles around his wife while his fellow Death Eater’s watched in belligerent amusement. The slur in his voice would’ve added a sort of facetiousness to his words, but with the way he looked down at the blonde figure he had just thrown to the floor, it only made it more menacing.

“And how will you remind her?” Lucius asked, causing Theo’s father to turn and look at the blonde haired man with a smirk.

“I have a few ideas in mind.”

Cassundra attempted to scream with every fibre of her being, veins popping out of her neck and forehead while her skin turned a dark red, but no sound came out at all. Theo felt her pain as if he, too, had his voice taken from him, as if he had been slammed against the wall, as if he had been thrown to the floor.

Nott Sr. turned back to his wife, the smirk fading quickly from his face and replaced with disdain. He raised his wand above his head.

Theo blacked out.

The eight year old’s legged carried him at a speed he didn’t know he could move at, until he was throwing his arms around his mother, guarding her.

“Father, please,” He sobbed into her soft blonde curls as he addressed the presence towering over them. Cassundra wrapped her arms around Theo, noiselessly comforting him as her fingers raked through his hair, her eyes squeezed shut. The room went deadly silent for a brief moment.

“You will learn to speak when you’re bloody spoken to, boy,” Nott Sr. sneered, his voice low and filled with even more anger than before as he grabbed Theo by the back of his shirt and ripped him out of his mother’s arms, tossing him across the room so hard, he slid across the hardwood floor and into the wall. A shadow leered over him as Nott Sr. rounded on Theo, his wand at the ready.

“If you’re so desperate to be a man, then you can handle her punishment then, can’t you?”

The next few moments went by so quickly, yet also as if they were in slow motion.

Nott Sr. raised his hand above his head, the tip of his wand igniting into a bright red colour.

A flash of blonde jumped onto his back, tackling the older man to the ground.

Lucius and Antonin grab Cassundra off Nott Sr. and toss her to the floor once more.

And then, the flash of green.

He didn’t hear his father speak. Hell, he didn’t even see his father get up from the floor. But make no mistake, Theo didn’t miss the older man, with the wild chestnut hair that he did inherit and the menacing look that he did not, pointing his wand at his mother, sending the bright green spell directly into her chest.

She was gone before the scream left Theo’s mouth.

“No, no, no, no, no, no…”

Theo crawled across the floor, moving his mother’s head from the floor to his lap as he placed his hands on either cheek.

��Mum, please,” He begged, staring into her lifeless eyes as they remained open. “Mamma, wake up. PLEASE WAKE UP!”

“For Merlin’s sake…” His father mumbled before flicking his wand once more. Theo’s voice evaporated off his tongue, but his lips still moved as he soundlessly begged his mother to come back to him. His tears fell onto the bare skin of her shoulder, and he wondered if they would be enough to warm her back to life. When she didn’t stir, Theo broke down entirely, holding her head close to his chest and burying his face in her golden curls as he began to rock back and forth.

“One of the house elves will clean it up,” Nott Sr. said to his friends, as if speaking about a

spilled dinner plate and not the dead body of his wife. “Come, gentlemen. The parlour is where my

reserve is, and I need another glass after that… unfortunate incident.”

And so Nott Sr. left the room, followed by Malfoy, Dolohov and Greyback, leaving his grieving son on the floor, where he stayed for hours until the house elves finally pried the body of Cassundra Nott out of his hands.

The hands that would never get to hug or touch his mother ever again.

Christmas Eve: Now

The sound of a crash echoes throughout the kitchen, followed quickly with a loud groan.

“Sorry, sorry…”

“I swear to Merlin, Malfoy, if you wake up my wife, I’ll throttle you.”

A slew of drunken laughter fills the kitchen as the three men clamber in through the back door. Draco respectfully picks up the trash can he knocked over under the watchful eye of Theo. Once it’s back in its proper position, Draco gestures towards it proudly, as if he had just done something profound.

“Happy, Nott?”

Theo bobs his head back and forth, pretending to mull this over.

“I’d be happier if you weren’t an idiot.”

Mattheo, who had just taken a large pull from the bottle of firewhiskey in his hand, spits it out all over the refrigerator.

“That’s like asking for snow in the middle of July.”

With a deep scowl on his face, Draco shoves Mattheo into the counter before sneering, “Fuck off, Riddle.”

Mattheo, in his truest form, makes kissy faces at Malfoy, who then proceeds to throw a kitchen roll at his head. Before it can hit the floor, Theo catches it in midair. The other two look at him as if he had just juggled seven kitchen rolls, or caught Baby Jesus himself.

“Alright, alright, let’s move to the parlour before the two of you destroy my kitchen.”

The walk from the kitchen to the parlour is one the three of them have taken on drunken nights like these hundreds of times, yet at this moment, the distance seems to have grown exponentially longer. Mattheo stumbles as he walks, a loud laugh escaping him as he anchors himself with the wall. Theo, in an effort to keep his friend quiet, smacks him upside the head.

“What was that for?” The dark curly haired man shouts, not without an undercurrent of laughter in his tone.

“For being a git,” Theo hisses. “Shut. The. Fuck. Up.”

It’s too late though.

Over the sound of Draco’s giggles, Theo can make out the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs.

“Theo?”

His heart stops at the sight of you on the landing, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as they jump between him and his friends. He smiles sheepishly at you.

“Did we wake you, cara mia?”

You shake your head as you reach the bottom of the steps. He sucks in a large gulp of oxygen as he takes in the sight of you. Even in your pyjamas, he finds the sight of you simply breathtaking. The sleep stains on your face and the way your eyes droop makes his heart race as if he was just seeing you for the first time. With a slight sway in his step, his feet carry him towards your magnetic pull, his hands gently gripping your waist.

“You can tell me if we woke you,” He says in a gentle voice, an undercurrent of guilt filling his tone. But you shake your head again as you bring your hands to the tops of his shoulders, running your fingers along the curves of his muscles to the dip of his neck.

“I woke up a couple of minutes before I heard you come inside, I promise.”

He doesn’t believe you, but his blood shot eyes are so enraptured by the beauty that is your face that he doesn’t care. His hands move up to cradle your cheeks before he brings his face to yours, peppering your skin with kisses. Your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, your temples, your eyelids. Every piece of you that he can reach gets a kiss. His fingertips tease weave into your hair as you place your hands on his clavicle, laughing as he kisses you.

From behind him, Mattheo and Draco both make fake retching noises.

“I’ve never met a more disgusting couple,” Malfoy whines.

“Truly the worst to be around,” Riddle adds in agreement.

“Oh, piss off to the parlour, you two,” Theo barks as he pulls his mouth away from your face. He doesn’t turn to make sure they leave, trusting the sound of their fading footsteps down the hall. His thumbs stroke the skin of your cheeks delicately.

“Happy Christmas, my love,” He says before gently kissing your mouth. You hum contently as the kiss lasts a few more seconds.

“Happy Christmas, Theo.”

The sight of you smiling up at him makes his stomach flip. He finds himself wondering how he got so lucky, finding you? From the moment you walked into his life that fateful day at Hogwarts, his life turned into a sort of dream that he didn’t want to wake up from. And it was made even better when you had married him.

Even after all this time, he can’t get enough of you.

“Get some sleep,” He says gently, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll keep the boys quiet.”

“Please,” You say, your voice still husky from just having woken up. “And please tell Mattheo that if he throws up on the carpet again, it’ll be him cleaning it up, not the house elves.”

Theo lets out a hearty, full laugh. It’s something his life is filled with a lot of these days. With his friends and you by his side, sometimes it’s easy for him to forget that it wasn’t always like this.

“I love you with my entire heart,” He slurs, gently kissing you again. “Please never forget that.”

You laugh softly again, the sound making Theo feel lightheaded. Or is it the alcohol? No, it’s definitely the sound of your laugh.

“I love you too, Drunky,” You tease him. “Please make sure you come to bed. Don’t fall asleep in the parlour.” He nods, his eyes twinkling in amusement.

“Yes, cara mia.”

You give him one last kiss to the cheek before you turn and make your way back upstairs. Theo’s eyes watch you the entire way, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as you disappear into the hallway. It isn’t until he hears the creaky bedroom door close that he finally turns and starts walking towards the parlour to join his mates.

As he walks down the hall, one of the pictures out of the corner of his eye stops him. Slowly, he turns, the amusement leaving his face as his eyes fall on that one painting.

His mother smiles down at him as she sits in a rocking chair. Behind her is a dark space where his father had been, up until a night of grief and alcohol caused Theo to direct a spell towards the fake personification, and subsequently led to the destruction of all paintings of his father in the house. Though he had the frame replaced, the damage remains.

His eyes trace the trail of golden curls that flow down her shoulders and upper torso. He can still remember how soft the strands felt when she’d kiss him goodnight and they’d brush along his cheek.

“Please tell me I’m not like him,” He begs her, his voice suddenly small. “Please tell me I’ve made you proud.”

She smiles tenderly down at him, his heart feeling ready to burst.

“Oh, il mio tesoro,” She says softly as his eyes flutter shut. “You're ten times the man he’d ever be. And I couldn’t be more proud of you if I tried.”

Theo smiles widely, tears escaping through his shut eyelids.

Bliss.

#theodore nott #theo nott #theodore nott x reader #theo nott x reader #theodore nott x you #theo nott x you #golden trio era #golden trio era fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction

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obsessedwithceleste · 1 month

Text

So American

Lorenzo Berkshire x reader

Summary: based on this request🫶🏽 So American by Olivia Rodrigo is ON LOOP💕

word count: 3.4k

©️ obsessedwithceleste. all works posted here belong to me and should not be reposted or copied in any way or form.

Pushing open the heavy doors, eyes begin turn and you try to ignore all the chattering and stares directed your way as you make your way into the dimly lit defense against the darks art class room.

You knew people would talk. Transfer students were rare. And transferring during the sixth year? Basically unheard of. So the intrigued whispers were valid you supposed. But that didn’t make them any less annoying, and didn’t make you feel any less self conscious.

“You’re the new student aren’t you?” A voice asks, startling you.

You look to your side to see a girl with pale skin and short, cropped black hair staring up at you from her seat. A slight smirk dancing on her lips as she leans back in her chair.

“Uh yeah, that’s me,” you reply cautiously.

You hadn’t made any friends quite yet, though not for lack of trying. It was all just a bit overwhelming.

The girl tilts her head, looking at you in consideration.

“Sit.” She says, patting the seat next to her. “I’m Pansy. Pansy Parkinson. I want to hear all about wherever it is you came from. I’ll bet Daph and Milly would too. We don’t get new students often.”

"Yeah, I kind of got the sense," you reply, gingerly taking a seat.

The two girls sitting at the desk in front of Pansy look back, offering friendly smiles as you place your bag on the ground beside you.

“So where exactly did you transfer from?” Pansy asks, leaning in.

“I’m from America. I just transferred here from Ilvermorny,” You reply.

“That is so wicked,” Daphne gasps, beginning to look excited.

“Have you ever pet an eagle?” Milly asks.

Pansy turns to the girl, making a face. “Millicent, it’s the American muggles who worship eagles,” she says with an annoyed huff.

You open your mouth to correct them when a voice from behind you interrupts.

“Hey, that’s my spot.”

The four of you turn now to see a boy with platinum blonde hair glowering at you. A rowdy looking group of boys surrounding him.

“Oh bugger off Draco. Haven’t you met the new student? They’re from America,” Pansy says, dismissing the boy with a wave of her hand.

“Yeah? How’d you find yourself on this side of the ocean?” The boy, Draco asks, crossing his arms.

“My mom works for the American ministry, our family got sent over as part of the ambassador program,” you reply easily, not really liking the boy’s tone.

“Ha. Mom. Listen to them, they’re so American!” One of the other boys laughs.

“Oh shut it Lorenzo,” Daphne sighs, giving the boy a light whack on the arm.

“Wow, I'm using American dialect, who would’ve thought? It’s almost like I’m from America. Shocker,” you retort.

Pansy lets out a snort. “Oh I do believe I’m going to like you.” She says, giving you a large smile. “And Draco, for Salazar’s sake, go sit with Enzo. Not everything is about you.”

“You’ll have to excuse the boys, they’re, well- boys. They’ll grow on you,” Daphne tells you with a grimace.

You let out a laugh as the professor appears at the front of the room and a hush falls over the classroom.

You do your best to concentrate on the lesson, not wanting to start the year off with a bad impression, but can’t help but notice the cheeky smiles the brunette boy, Lorenzo, keeps shooting you from a few rows over. No matter how many times you try to refocus, your eyes keep wandering over, meeting his. Pushing him from your mind, you force yourself to once more to focus on the professor at the front. His long, black hair was awfully greasy.

“Professor Binns is a drag. He’s dead, and wants us all to die of boredom so that we suffer with him,” Daphne tells you.

“And Flitwick is a bit of a loon, but at least he’s entertaining,” Pansy adds.

“And course there Snape. Scary as all hell, but won’t bother you long as you’re quiet and mind your business.”

Tapping your glass with your wand, you shake excitedly as it fills to the brim with coffee. You had a particular weakness for iced lattes and hadn’t had a good one in ages. The group of Slytherin girls had once again accosted you, not that you minded, and had taken it upon themselves to give you a full run down of the school. Now, the four of you sat in the Great Hall as it slowly filled with students eager for dinner.

“Hey ‘merica,” a voice greets cheerfully from behind you.

You turn to see Lorenzo grinning down at you as he takes the seat on your open side, the rest of the boys joining as well.

“Havin a cup of coffee?” One of the other boys, Mattheo, asks in what’s probably the worst American accent you’d ever heard. Somehow the teasing was significantly less charming when he did it.

“Bloody hell Lorenzo, Matt, leave the girl alone. Being from America is not her only personality trait.” Pansy says with exasperation.

“Oh come off it Pans, I’m only teasing. Besides, look at her, drinking iced coffee, so American.” Lorenzo laughs.

“Sorry I’m not interested in drinking your dried leaf water,” you reply, rolling your eyes. But you can’t help the small laugh that escapes you.

Lorenzo gives you a satisfied smirk before going to fill his plate with food, and when you turn back to the girls, a huge smile is plastered across Daphne’s face.

He so likes you. She mouths, looking rather giddy.

You choose to ignore the girl however, opting instead to turn back to Pansy.

“What does the rest of your schedule look like tomorrow?” She asks, leaning over to look at the class list you’d placed on the table before you.

“Dunno. Dumbledore just gave me the list when I arrived, didn’t really get a say in picking classes,” you reply with a shrug.

“He clearly has taste, I’ll see you tomorrow in herbology ‘merica,” Enzo butts in, glancing at the page himself.

“Oh shove it pretty boy,” Pansy retorts, not even bothering to look over at the boy who was smiling down at you warmly.

“Don’t worry love, I’ll save you a seat.”

The rest of dinner goes smoothly as you seem to fit right in with the group of Slytherins who had apparently decided to keep you. While a bit of a prick at first, Enzo was growing on you, laughing at all your jokes and over all just making you feel at home.

“I don’t know what you put in that boy’s tea, but it’s working,” Daphne says lightheartedly as the four of you leave the dining hall.

“Sorry?” You ask, caught very much off guard.

“Enzo. I’ve never seen him warm up to someone so fast. He’s usually a right foul git,” Milly explains.

Pansy sighs, “What Millicent means, is Enzo isn’t usually one to be overly friendly to new people,” Pansy says.

“Oh. Well, I don’t know that he’s friendly with me, so much as teasing constantly,” you reply, growing nervous as you’re not quite able to make out the direction of the conversation.

“Oh no. He’s totally into you, he wasn’t being a complete pompous prick tonight” Daphne reassures confidently as you make your way back down the stairs to the dungeon.

“You are so lucky that we’re here to guide you,” Pansy declares.

The next day, you find your way out to the greenhouse and are honestly unsurprised to find that Enzo had stayed true to his word, saving you a seat next to him at one of the creeky, wooden tables covered in greenery.

“Didn’t pick you out to be one for herbology,” you comment idly as you take your seat next to the pretty brunette boy.

Lorenzo smirks over at you. “Think I can’t get my hands dirty?” He asks with a teasing grin.

“Well we wouldn’t want you breaking a nail would we?” You reply, shooting a sly look back at the boy.

“Not to worry love, lucky for you, I’m the best herbologist in the class so you won’t have to worry about my pristine nail beds thank you very much.”

“Lorenzo Berkshire, you are an arrogant prick,” you say with a laugh.

“You like it.”

You feel heat rushing to your cheeks as you turn away, eyes roaming the greenhouse for the Professor. You see the plump old lady waddling up to the front of the room, a cart of strange cactus looking plants following dutifully behind her.

“Well?” She prods, once she’s standing at the front, gazing ahead at the rows of students. “The Mimbulus mimbletonia isn’t going to walk itself to your stations now is it? Come along!” She urges, gesturing for everyone to approach the cart to collect one of the oozy looking plants.

You see Lorenzo’s nose scrunch up in disgust as you both choose a pot from the cart.

“Careful not to touch the books,” Enzo murmurs to you, gingerly lifting his plant and making his way back to your table.

You follow closely behind, noting the rather putrid smell the plant emitted. You let out a shudder.

“Who can tell me the properties of these lovely specimens?” The Professor, who Lorenzo whispers is called Professor Sprout, asks as students are still moving around to collect their plant. “Mr. Longbottom?”

“It’s known for being rather squirming I think. And if you poke the boils, it squirts out stinknap. My gran used to collect bottles of the stuff,” a timid looking boy answers from the back of the class.

“Excellent! 5 points to Gryffindor!” Sprout exclaims gleefully, clapping her hands with excitement.

Lorenzo scowls at the boy who visibly shrinks back.

“Mr. Longbottom was quite right! We will be extracting the stinknap from our Mimbulus mimbletonia today as it’s a rather rare potion ingredient indeed!”

Professor Sprout goes on to demonstrate the technique used to extract the foul smelling liquid and you force yourself to listen intently, not wanting the rancid smelling odor all over you.

Once Professor Sprout releases the class back to perform the task themselves, you’re pleasantly surprised to find that Lorenzo is able to replicate the process with flawless precision.

You watch in fascination as the boy’s usually soft features harden with concentration as he carefully fills his first vial. You watch him fill a second before moving over to your own plant to copy his process.

“Make sure you keep a consistent pressure, that way it won’t spurt out at random,” the boy tells you as your vial slowly begins to fill. You keep a steady concentration, determined to impress the boy, eyes not leaving the task before you.

The vial is almost full when you suddenly feel yourself being shoved forward. Your concentration broken, the boil spews out the foul smelling liquid, covering your robes in the sticky substance.

Whipping around, you see the tall boy from earlier, Longbottom was it? Looking at you with wide eyes.

“What the bloody hell Longbottom?” Lorenzo snaps, glaring at the boy who’s now visibly shaking.

“Sorry! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to bump into you! Just almost dropped my plant is all, I’m sorry!” The boy stutters, stumbling over his words under Lorenzo’s piercing stare.

You feel bad for the boy as it was clearly an accident, but can’t help being annoyed that you’re now covered in manure smelling gunk.

“It’s fine,” you sigh, stripping your robe off. Surely Professor Sprout would understand you not wearing your foul smelling robe. You grimace seeing the slimy substance splattered across the fabric. The poor house elves wear going to have one hell of a time getting that stain out.

With a quick nod, Longbottom scurries off without another word.

“He’s always been a bit of a wanker,” Enzo mutters, still glaring at the retreating back of the boy before turning his attention back to you. “Here, take this,” he says, shrugging off his own robe and offering it to you.

“Oh, it’s really fine,” you try to tell him, but he insists. After a bit of back and forth, you finally give in, sliding the still-warm robes on.

“You’re pretty wearing my clothes,” Lorenzo tells you with a satisfied smirk.

“Oh shove off,” you laugh, feeling heat rise in your cheeks once more.

“Oi, shove off,” he mimics with an ever familiar teasing grin. “Your accent is so American.”

“Yeah? You like it.”

It was a windy day for a quidditch match you thought as you brushed your hair away from your face for what felt like the thousandth time.

“Do you have quidditch in America?” Daphne asks from her spot right next to you in the stands.

You, Daphne, Pansy, and Millicent had managed to wade through the crowds of students to the front of the stands, securing a perfect view of the pitch.

“Of course. I used to play for my house at Ilvermorny,” you reply, watching as the two teams enter the field.

“Really? I was never much into quidditch, but Matty always likes when I watch his games. He’s the beater, just there,” Daph chatters, pointing out the curly haired boy on the field below.

“And there’s your lover boy. Lorenzo’s a chaser, long with Theodore and Marcus,” Pansy adds, giving you a playful nudge.

You just roll your eyes at the girl’s playful antics, but can’t help the small smile that forms on your lips as you see Enzo wave up to the stands in your direction. Of course Pansy takes notice, but says nothing, allowing her smug smile to speak for itself.

After your herbology class, Lorenzo just kept popping up everywhere. It probably had something to do with the fact that he was friends the group of girls that had accosted you, but he always seemed to have an eye for you.

Just this morning at breakfast he had taken his usual seat beside you, determined to ensure your presence at his match today. He’d even given you one of his thick green and silver scarves ‘so that you’d fit right in’ he’d said.

You watch contentedly as the match begins, the dark green robes contrasting nicely against yellow. Lorenzo weaves through the air with enviable agility, working seamlessly with Theo and Marcus. It’s not even ten minutes in when Theo is able to make the first goal of the game.

“Slytherin usually has a pretty easy match against Hufflepuff,” Pansy tells you, eyes not leaving Blaise as he and Mattheo wreak havoc on the other team.

Pansy’s words seem to ring true as the match goes on with Slytherin able to take a sixty point lead.

Watching the match it’s easy to begin missing home. Quidditch had been something you looked forward to every school year, and you missed your teammates. Watching Lorenzo, Theo, and Marcus now and the ease with which they worked together to make the game seem effortless felt like a blow to the gut.

It was a fun match to watch, and you couldn’t help but cheer wildly when Lorenzo scored yet another goal. But in the back of your mind, you wished it was you on that pitch. You really hadn’t felt a sense of homesickness since moving, so it surprised you that it was hitting you now of all times.

Still, you continue to smile and cheer, hoping the adrenaline of Slytherin’s win would overtake you as you and the other girls rush down to the field to congratulate the boys on a match well played.

“Hey ‘merica, enjoy the match?” Lorenzo asks, his charismatic smile practically glowing as he steps off the pitch.

You’re about to respond when you get your first real good look at the boy in front of you.

Shit.

His fluffy, brown is tossled from the wind and you can see the sheen of sweat across his forehead. And his uniform. God, his quidditch uniform fit him deliciously.

“It was great,” you finally spit out, horrified by the way your thoughts had spiraled dangerously off course.

Making eye contact with Enzo though, you’re a thousand percent sure the boy knew exactly what you were thinking if his sly smirk was anything to go off of.

Daphne swoops in to unknowlingly save you however, as she sidles up next to you.

“Enz, did you know y/n played quidditch in America?” She asks, resting her arm on your shoulder and cocking her head to the side innocently.

Lorenzo’s eyebrows shoot up at this as he glances down at you in surprise.

“Really? We’ll have to go flying sometime then.” He replies, his smile reverting comfortably on his face.

"Yeah! Today seemed like such a nice day for flying though," Daphne comments.

“‘Fraid I don’t have my broom,” you respond, trying to make out what Daphne was getting at.

“That’s alright, I have mine right here,” he says, thumping his broom lightly on the ground.

Daphne watches the two of you banter with delight.

"You should take her flying Enz. Come one y/n, I saw the way you were looking at those brooms earlier. You totally were thinking about going for a ride," she tells him. You can tell she's egging the two of you on.

"Oh, I don't know if now's the best time-"

"What's Enzo doing now? You're not cutting out of the afterparty now are you?" Mattheo asks, coming over and wrapping a sweaty arm around Daphne. Her nose wrinkles in disgust, but she doesn't say anything.

"Think I'm going to take 'merica here for a spin on the broom, hear she used to play quidditch herself," Lorenzo tells him before you can protest. "We'll be back before the party starts, we'll meet you there."

As though it had already been decided, Lorenzo hops back on his broom, patting the spot in front of him, gesturing for you to get on.

"Go on, we'll catch up with you later," Daphne says, shooing you forward.

Hesitantly, you climb on, hyper aware of the fact that Lorenzo's arms were now wrapped securely around you, his breath tickling the hairs on your neck. He kicks off, and the two of you soar into the sky, your friends getting lost in the distance.

You feel a smile grow on your face as the wind blows wildly through your hair. Leaning forward and closing your eyes you revel in the feeling of freedom that flying brings you. You'd missed the feeling of being on your broom more than you'd realized.

"Having a good time love?" Enzo asks, his voice sending shivers down your spine.

"Mhmm. Didn't realize how homesick I'd get just watching a quidditch match. Seems so silly," you reply.

"It's not silly," Enzo reassures, "were you any good?" he asks. You can't see his face, but you can practically see the teasing grin in his voice.

"My house won the cup two years in a row," you boost proudly. "I was a chaser too. Maybe I should join the quidditch team here."

"Yeah? Think you could beat me?"

"Why? Afraid of a little competition? It wouldn't be the first time us Americans beat you Brits," you taunt.

"Ha ha, 'merica. Original." Lorenzo responds dryly. You can feel the boy shaking his head at you from behind.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm so American, I know."

"You are though! What kind of psycho puts ice in their water?" He protests.

"Those of us who want cold water! Obviously. But in all seriousness, you wouldn't stand a chance against me on the pitch" you laugh.

When you don't hear Lorenzo laugh with you, you lean back, turning to find your noses brushing as he stares down intently at you. You suddenly realize that your back is now nested contentedly into his chest as his arms tighten around you. It feels as though all thoughts disappear from your brain as you lean in, closing the gap between you.

It starts out gentle at first, as if Lorenzo was shocked that you had actually kissed him. But as soon as realization fully hits him, he takes over with a determined hunger, moving his soft lips eagerly against your own. You find yourself lost in the warmth spreading over you as the whole sensation leaves you buzzing. His lips work against your in a mesmerizing dance, your head spinning as you melt into him.

You don't even realize immediately when your feet touch the ground once more, forgetting that you had previously been soaring over the school grounds just moments ago.

"How?" you ask, your mind still hazy.

Lorenzo just laughs, his hands grasping your waist to steady you.

"What can I say? Maybe I'm just the better flyer."

"Oh as if, you just distracted me," you scoff.

"Yeah? Let me do it again."

I simply do not want to talk about how long it took me to write this okay? Okay.

Anyway, channeled my inner Mean Girls obsession into this one, cry abt it🫶🏽

#lorenzo berkshire #slytherin boys #slytherin #enzo berkshire #theodore nott #lorenzo berkshire x you #lorenzo berkshire x reader #lorenzo berkshire fanfic #lorenzo berkshire fanfiction #lorenzo berkshire x y/n #mattheo riddle #pansy parkinson #daphne greengrass #harry potter universe

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darling-i-read-it · 11 months

Text

Right Family, Wrong Malfoy

Lucius Malfoy x fem!reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: toxic relationship !!!, age gap (legal ofc, reader is in her mid to late twenties), you dated draco and then lucius lol, insinuations to smut

Author’s Note: I DONT KNOW HOW I FEEL ABOUT THIS. i think i like it and i went a slightly spookier/intense route but idkkkkkk. I love writing for lucius though so this was a fun little twist

Requested: by @russian-soft-bitch, Hello love! I'm officially requesting that Lucius idea you had, I HAVE to read it 😤 Thank you and have a good day!

Summary: What started as a revenge plot against your ex boyfriend Draco ended up with you in Lucius Malfoy’s bed.

Song: Back to Black by Amy Winehouse

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator

(not my gif)

Lucius wrapped his hand around yours. You were sleeping soundly beside him, breathing evenly. Your expression was peaceful. Serene. He couldn't remember the last time he had seen you at such peace. You were always stomping around Malfoy Manor with such umph that he would’ve thought you ran the place if he didn’t.

Your lips were parted ever so slightly. The same lips that had touched every part of him, the same lips that left marks on covered places, the same lips that whispered things to him that would never be said in the daylight. Your presence here was something he had never expected but something he granted with open arms.

Narcissa had left him in the dust years ago. She was to raise Draco. There was no need that Lucius put himself into affairs that had nothing to do with him. Truthfully, Lucius had no real interest in raising Draco any longer. It was a project that continued to fail him. He was too much like his mother.

Which meant he had Malfoy Manor to himself most of the time. The help walked around without making a sound. It was him in the large place and it was never lonely because now he had you.

“Lucius,” you whispered. He hadn’t noticed your eyes open. You squinted at him for a moment and then your expression turned into a doe’s. Wide gaze, looking at him like he had all the control in the world. “You’re starring.”

He raised his hand and brushed your face.

“I’m admiring,” he promised. His voice was gravely. It wasn’t even light outside yet. It was still dark outside, the moon the only thing illuminating the crevices of the room. You nuzzled your head into the silk pillow.

“Go to sleep,” you whispered. Your eyes shut again. He lost the doe look he had savored so dearly for a moment. He dragged his hand down your face to your chin, raising it. Your eyes opened again at the sudden movement. “Lucius…”

He dipped his head down and kissed you. It was a hungry kiss, something to be relished. There was nothing like an extremely early morning with a Malfoy. You would know better than most.

You gripped the back of his head, scrunching up his long white hair. You brought him to you so that you didn’t have to strain your neck kissing him. He was a much better kisser than his son. He was more attentive. He was cautious with his words, knowing the weight of them.

For all of those reasons it was easy to slip from the youngest Malfoy boy to the eldest. It was easy to forget all of Draco’s vein promises when you had new ones being made by someone who would keep them.

You opened your mouth, gasping at his cold touch. The icy night left the imprint of his hand on your cheek. He worshiped at your bare skin, making it a point to touch every inch of you as often as he could.

There were no thoughts of Draco as he kissed down your stomach, moving lower with each deliberate kiss.

There was a letter on the table. You opened it with a Malfoy letter opener. You knew that it was addressed to you before you even checked the name. Draco had always left you a special seal, one that dripped red as it dried. You wondered if he knew you were staying at the Manor or if your owl had brought it.

You tossed the envelope back onto the table and sat down on top of it. Your black dress flowed nicely onto the ground, just barely touching the hardwood. Lucius had gotten it for you.

Please answer my owls. I can’t speak to a wall any longer.

It felt like a waste of paper. You tossed it aside. Draco had been an awful boyfriend, one that you grew up beside and all you had known. You had never understood what love was actually supposed to look like because Draco had promised you that he knew.

He did not.

You were doomed to him from the second he stared at you in the Great Hall. Slytherins were naturally tethered to one another, based on their shared personalities and pride. Draco had chosen you far too young.

Now you were older. You had grown to be more mature. Draco hadn’t. He didn’t understand that it was truly as simple as that. Draco had hurt you. You recoiled. The relationship ended.

“Your son sent me another letter.” Lucius walked from the kitchen to the dining room. The walls were clad with portraits of the Malfoys going back decades. The most recent was of Lucius, Narcissa and Draco. It was slightly tilted, as though someone had tried to take it down.

“Are you going to answer it?” he asked, uninterested.

“No.” He kissed your forehead as he passed. You watched him go to the head of the table. Dinner would be served soon. He had invited you to stay, though you likely would’ve stayed without any invitation.

“Good girl,” he grumbled.

What had started as a revenge plot against Draco had started to become a domestic relationship. The secret was thrilling. The only people that saw you were the help, who were sworn to silence.

“I have to leave in the morning,” you said as you approached your seat. “Work is calling.”

“Work seems unnecessary,” he said curiously. “You could stay. I’ll give you an allowance.”

“I’m not your child. I can live my own life.” He leaned back in his seat. He had a hand wrapped around his staff as his eyes narrowed on you.

“Those statements have nothing to do with each other,” he observed. “Stay. Just a while longer. Live in his honeymoon, finally allow yourself to know what it’s like to be worshiped.” His words were alluring. “I have to go to Knockturn Alley tomorrow. You could come with me, get out of the manor if you insist on leaving.”

You half smiled. You had never assumed Lucius to be the type to come up with other options to spend time together. You were so used to Draco who had endlessly forced you to follow him along like a lost pet and lose you in the corners like you were a joke.

This whole thing was so cloudy.

“I have been meaning to stop by the apothecary.”

“It’s settled. You’ll come with me tomorrow.” He clicked his water glass with his fork. Someone brought food through the doors. You wondered what it was like to have so much power.

Knockturn Alley was permanently dark. At least, it seemed that way. The people rushing by never rose their faces and when they did they were indistinguishable. It was as though everyone had enchanted themselves to become mundane and unremarkable. Lucius had a hood over his head but made no attempt to hide his blonde hair. Your hood kept you shrouded, even as you walked closely beside him. He had a list of things he needed to get and you looked through the windows of the shops at things you had never studied before.

Stores selling human fingers were of interest to Lucius. He let you go inside first as he pursued. You had never been inside a place like it before. It felt like a forbidden realm, something that was locked off to you because you had no reason to enter it.

“Fingernails,” he muttered. “Do you see the fingernails dear?”

You looked around, trying to stifle the reaction you had to being called dear in public.

“Here,” you breathed. You raised your hand and he approached. “Aged,” you read from the small note card. “What do you use this for?”

“Severus sent me a potion he’d been testing. I wanted to try it.”

“What kind of potion?”

“An unnamed one,” he muttered. “Perhaps you could help me with it. Draco said you were rather good at potions.” You were reminded of the age difference suddenly but quickly brushed it aside.

“I was the best in my class. Snape seemed to like me,” you said proudly. It was a fact you took pride in. Snape didn’t like just anyone.

“I should’ve asked you to tutor Draco,” he muttered, grabbing what he needed off the shelf.

“I tried. He was often distracted.” Lucius’s hand brushed your side as he walked past you. Like father, like son.

You could feel prying eyes. You glanced around the dark shop that was illuminated only by floating candles. The shelves looked like people. You had to search to find anything actually moving. Your eyes landed on the sales clerk, another man who had been shrouded in a dark hood. You couldn't see his eyes but you could feel his gaze on you. You raised your chin, as though in defiance. Lucius didn’t seem to notice as he grabbed your hand and dragged you along to the next row of shelves.

You avoided eye contact when Lucius checked out.

You returned back to the Manor later that night. The sun was setting behind the peak of the house. It was like you were living your life shrouded in darkness nowadays and you couldn’t say you were complaining. It was slightly like you were constantly hidden from anything important. The door opened for Lucius. By the time it shut you couldn’t see who had been the culprit of moving it.

Living in the house with Lucius was vastly different than living in the house with Draco. Draco knew the best hiding places but Lucius didn’t need them. You felt the most in control as you ever had.

Lucius put down the bag of things onto the dining room counter as he walked into the room. Sitting in the chair at the other end of the room was a face you hadn’t expected to see, one that stopped you completely.

Toying in Draco’s hand was the letter you had discarded.

“You aren’t scheduled for a visit,” Lucius said. His voice was strong. There was no hint of weakness. You raised your chin to match his attitude.

“This is why you haven’t been answering my letters?” Draco questioned, staring at you as though his father wasn’t there. “You found a different Malfoy to follow around like a lost puppy?” He sat forward, accusatory.

“Draco,” Lucius snapped. You met the young Malfoy’s gaze with ice.

“I haven’t been answering your letters because I have no interest in speaking with you.” Draco set his jaw, chewing on his cheek. Lucius took a deep breath.

“This isn’t a ploy to make me jealous? To get me back?” he questioned but it felt more like he was stating a fact.

“Why would I want you back?” you asked him. “Why would I beg for your forgiveness and your kindness when I know I can get it from someone I like far more?”

“My father?”

“Yes Draco.” Draco stood up. He put his palms down on the table, leaning forward. He shook his head, a signature scowl on his face.

“Were you plotting to steal the Malfoy money through different means because I tossed you aside like a piece of trash?”

“I wanted someone who would treat me like a woman and not like a charm to accompany his pride,” you seethed.

“This is ridiculous. There’s no way you’re entertaining this father,” Draco said, his eyes now set on the older Malfoy. Your eyes followed his as well. Lucius had taken off his cloak and set it on a chair. He was acting completely unbothered by the conversation.

“Draco, you’ve always been too much like your mother.” Lucius raised his chin. He eyed his son, knowing he would cower under the gaze. “If you intend on being a pest, I’ll have you escorted out of the manor.”

“Father.”

“You were a stupendous failure Draco,” Lucius said lowly. “You took something great and you botched it with continuous frustrations. There is no need to take out those frustrations on someone who salvaged the situation or the woman.” Draco’s jaw set. “Go back to your mother. Maybe she’ll teach you some manners.”

Draco choked on whatever words he intended to say. He took the letter he had written to you and ripped it in half. He left it on the table, dramatically. He gave you a lingering angry look before walking past the both of you out the room. The manor was so large that he could return to his room and neither you nor Lucius would ever know.

The tension in the room defused.

“I’ll put away the things we got,” you said, grabbing the bag from him. You took a jar with you into the kitchen. He followed you.

“Your son is impossible,” you muttered. There were no feelings resurfaced at seeing Draco again. You wondered how long you had been over that relationship, if it had been longer than you even remembered.

“His mothers fault.” Lucius raised his hand and brushed your hair off your shoulder and onto your back. He leaned forward and kissed your neck. You let out a soft sigh.

“You’re distracting me from the task at hand.”

“My fault,” he muttered against your skin.

“You have no reserves?” you asked. You turned around to look at him. He had his hands on your sides in an instant. “Your son's ex-girlfriend in your bed every night?”

“Do you have reserves?” he questioned. You weren’t sure why you were even asking the question. Lucius had done some morally challenging things in his life. There was no way this was a concern of his. You found that realization quite freeing.

“No,” you said finally. You meant it. He nodded once, proud of himself. He traced your jaw with his finger.

“Then I don’t see any issues.” You glanced at the door Draco had left. You knew he was likely still in the manor. You kissed Lucius like it was the last thing you would ever do. You didn't care if this was a relationship that would fizzle out, all you knew in the moment was that you wanted to kiss him. You devoured his lips, holding his head so he was as close as you could get him.

Everything else felt like an afterthought to him. It occurred to you that in the past you had had the right family, but the wrong Malfoy. He hoisted you onto the counter, pushing aside everything you had gotten from Knockturn.

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