#Draco malfoy x reader angst

[wordssricochet]

💬 — Hello !! Just the usual reminders, I am still learning. Please do not expect my work to be perfect, English is not my first language. That is all, thank you.

⚠ — rejection, bullying, draco being stupid, hurtful words, mischaracterization of Blaise Zabini (I guess, we had to do it for the plot)

📝 — ♡ (fluff) + ☣︎ (angst)

#⃣ — 1270 words

📹 — based on the movie "Flipped" (one of my comfort movies)

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Flipped | D. M |

by wordssricochet™

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Growing up as a troublemaker kid, you were always rejected for affection. Thus, anyone who would even look at your way would be bombarded with your attention and affection.

And that anyone, fortunately —for you— is Draco Malfoy.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

"Heart eyes again, yeah, Y/N? " Fred Weasley —your best friend's brother who is also your best friend— elbows you.

"I honestly don't get what you see in that blondie, " George adds, "I mean, he's.. good looking and all, but his personality? Askaban! "

You simply just roll your eyes at the twins, focusing your attention again on Draco. Or Dray-Dray, as you nicknamed him (He never liked it, and would glance at you with a disgusted look. You loved his face though.)

A few minutes passed by and the boy and his gang of Slytherin friends leave for their classes. Now, you were left wondering about what Draco's type is. It just suddenly came up in your mind! But what is his type? Is it like you? Or is his type those pureblood girls that bullies first years? Hopefully not, hopefully not Pansy Parkinson.

"I wonder if his type is even closer to me.. you know, a fun but serious girl? " You questioned yourself.

"Oy, don't flatter yourself, Y/N. Since when were you serious? " Ron snickers, followed by Hermione hitting his arms.

"But seriously, Y/N, why him? I mean, there's Cedric-", " Too old for me" You interrupted Hermione.

"Okay.. what about Longbottom? He's a nice guy. " She gives you a warm look.

You almost wanted to cackle at Hermione's suggestion, "Seriously, Hermione? Neville is the complete opposite of Dray-Dray. "

"And that's exactly why I wanted you to give him a try, plus, the Yule Ball is in 2 weeks already, " She plastered a smirk on her face, "Let's be real, Y/N, You have no chance with Malfoy.

"I'm aware.. but still! " You insist.

Hermione gave a long sigh, "Do what you want then. But remember, I warned you! " She glances at you with a worried look.

"I'll be fine. "

Your classes for today ended and you went straight to Fred and George.

"Okay.. How do I look? " You fixed your hair. You put a clip on it and put the remaining hair behind your ears.

"Stunning", " Gorgeous" , the twins replied at the same time.

"You got this, Y/N! Plus, if ever that Malfoy prick rejects you, I'll go with you at the Yule Ball. " George says with a reassuring smile.

"Now, off you go! " Fred says, as he gives your back a soft tap.

"Dray- Draco, can we talk? " You ask while fiddling your fingers. It's been at least 5 years since you guys last talked, since his father found out about your friendship.

Draco and his friends glanced at each other, a smirk coming up on all their faces.

"Sure, what is it that you want to talk about? "

"Can we please talk in private? "

".. fine. "

"So, what is it? " Draco started, looking down at your rather smaller figure.

"Um, look, I've been meaning to tell you this since we were kids, " You gave a short inhale,

"Malfoy, I really like you. You were the first person to ever look at me like I'm a normal person, and not some nuisance to society. I've liked you since the day that I met you, the day that we met by the sea shore when you were taking a rest because of all the moving houses thing going on. I really appreciate your kindness toward me.. Well, towards me in the past. I hope that we can be friends again, or even more than that. So Dray-Dray, will you please go to Yule Ball with me? " You let out a long exhale as you said all those words in a span of 30 seconds.

"How pathetic can you be, Y/L/N? " He lets out a chuckle, "For Merlin's sake, are you even capable of being embarrassed? You're honestly the most annoying person I've ever known in my whole life! Since the day that.. "

You couldn't even hear what Draco was saying anymore, you just stood there, your ears ringing. Your vision started to blur. Your body can't physically move at this moment, like you've been paralyzed. After what seemed like an eternity (which is just 3 minutes for Draco), you finally gained consciousness.

"- I feel disgusted and offended that you can even think about being with me, hell, being friends with m-" You cut him off by saying sorry and ran away, just like you did when all those kids from your childhood bullied you.

It all started coming back to you, and you hated Draco for being the reason why.

You headed straight back to your house's common room and straight to your dorm. You ignored all your housemates asking if you were okay.

You flopped on your bed, head onto the pillow. You started letting all your emotions drain you.

These past few days, you started ignoring Draco more and more. You flooded yourself with academics and friends, specifically George Weasley.

You never stare at him in classes anymore, not even in the Great Hall. You started avoiding him at all costs. You couldn't even handle being in the same hallway as him. It makes you teary eyed whenever you remember the things he said to you.

Of course, Draco Malfoy had noticed the drastic change in your demeanor, too. He no longer had this Gryffindor stalking him around. He no longer had this girl that would send him chocolate frogs whenever she goes to Hogsmeade.

He should be glad, that's what Pansy tells him.

"Well, well, well, congratulations, Malfoy. You no longer had an obsessive stalker that would smell your hair whenever she's beside you in charms class! " Blaise Zabini chuckles, as he claps his hands together.

"Mission successful, I guess, huh? " Theodore Nott added.

Draco stayed silent, not answering any remarks, not looking at anyone.

"Anyway, Draco, would you mind going to the Yule Ball with me? " Pansy asks with hope in her eyes.

Meanwhile, Draco was dying inside at the faint mention of the Yule Ball. He remembered what he had said, and what he had lost.

Draco suddenly stood up from the couch of the common room and left the room before anyone could even ask what's going on.

"'m going to make things right, " Draco muttered to himself as he looks for you. Little did he know that Blaise was following him.

"Dude! Malfoy! Wait up! " Zabini yells as he grabs his best friend's arm, "What the bloody hell do you think you're doing? Pansy Parkinson, the finest Slytherin, just asked you if you wanted to go the ball with her. And you're here, bailing? Completely ignoring her? " Blaise yells, trying to put some sense into his friend.

"I already have someone I'm going with. "

"Who? Astoria Greengrass? Merula Synde?"

"None of those, idiot! "

"Who then? Y/N Y/L/N?"

Draco went silent at the mere mention of your name. Blaise looked discombobulated.

"What the hell, man? You're bailing Pansy Parkinson for Y/N Y/L/N? Are you insane?! "

"I don't know anymore, Zabini! I-I don't know what I'm feeling! "

"Are you really that bloody stupid, mate? You rejected her! Countless of times! We even laughed at her silly love letters together with Nott! "

"They were not silly, Zabini, you just.. don't understand. "

"Oh, I don't understand, alright! You hate her, Y/N, since the first year! "

"That's the thing, Zabini, I don't think I hate her now. "

"You've gone mental, man! I'm telling you! Have you flipped?! "

"Trust me, Blaise, I have no idea. "

💬 — hi !! OM GOSH, idk how to end this!! but i'm thinking either angst or fluff.. i still haven't planned. although, i finally found the perfect schedule when dropping fics (not like anyone cares); sundays in philippine time. anyway! i MIGHT make a masterlist now (with 2 fics in them lmao)

Sincerely, March.

[undecidedravenclaw]

Looking After You || D.M x reader

A/n: I apologize I'm using my phone en so I can't make a real title also trigger warning this deals with depression, eating disorder and just lack of self care but I hope it can provide some comfort xoxox

"Please drink some water. You need to hydrate." Draco voice gave an almost pleading tone as his eyes stare into yours before glancing at the glass in front of you still full of water. "I'm not thirsty."

"May I have your hand?" He asks politely and you thinking nothing of it, offer it to him as your eyes study the table in front of you. He turns your hand over and you feel a soft pinch as your skin was being pulled. You look over at him with furrowed eyebrows, "You're dehydrated." He was testing how soon your skin returned back to its position.

You tug your hand back, keeping it at your chest as you look at him slightly pissed off that he even had the nerve to trick you into letting him see how your body was being affected by your choices.

"I'm fine." You lie, turning your attention back to the table. "Bullshit." He sneers and you roll your eyes, collecting your books that were beside you on the bench and got up, only leaving Draco to stand up as well.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"Somewhere where I can be alone." You huff, slightly glaring at him and race to the girls bathroom.

You let out a breath as you lean against the wall, staring at the bathroom floor. You didn't want to be rude to the only person that was looking after you, but you felt smothered. You felt like this was your issue only and no one needed to be bothered.

You walk over to the sinks, sitting the books down in the empty basin before looking at yourself in the mirror. It had only been a few weeks but you could notice of a slight difference in your appearance. Your cheekbones were sticking out more and your skin looked tighter. But your eyes looked so tired and bags were developing along with turning into a grey color.

You felt out of it, every few moments or so you would have to blink and focus to not faint, your fingers gripping the sink like you would fall if you didn't. You felt weak and oh, the pain in your stomach from restricting.

You didn't mean for it to go this far.

But it did, and it was getting addicting.

And the sick twisted part of you felt almost proud when you saw Draco's worried expression.

"Y/N? Draco's looking for you."

You scoff, rolling your eyes. Of course, he'd send Pansy in after you.

You spin around and look at her, crossing your arms over your chest. "I'm not going out there."

"So, what? You're just gonna live in the bathroom for the rest of your life instead of talking to him?"

"Maybe." It was an immature response, but you felt the need to be stubborn. You couldn't bring yourself to see what he would say and even though he was yours, you felt like there were some secrets and things you needed to deal with yourself.

"Bloody hell, Pansy- out." Draco orders, storming into the bathroom with fire in his eyes as he nods towards the exit at Pansy. She didn't need to be told again and gave her a small sympathetic smile before walking out.

You stood there and look at him as he waits for the bathroom door to close. He turns to you and his eyes narrow, "What do you think you're doing, huh? Think I wouldn't have noticed?" He takes a few steps towards you and you took a few back which made him stop but his eyes were heavy with worry and anger as he looked at you.

It seemed like being angry and playing dumb was your only strategy, "What are you talking about?"

He scoffs, rolling his eyes as he looks at the corner of the room. "You're not that slick and apparently you operate on patterns." He walks over to one of the counters and leans coolly against it crossing his arms.

"I'm fine. I wish you would mind your business." You spat, getting ready to grab your books once more but he crosses the room and stands right in front of you.

"You are my business, but it seems like you have forgotten, maybe the lack of food and water has been affecting your ability to remember simple things." He spoke with such venom but anyone who knew Draco knew that he had a problem showing affection due to his parents and had to lace it with such aggression so that it wouldn't make him uncomfortable.

"Oh, fuck off you asshole." You spun quickly grabbing your books but then you felt pressure against your body and next thing you knew you were pinned against the sink as he held your wrists down.

You lock eyes with each other and at that moment you were ready to just swing. You tried to raise your hands but he was much stronger and kept them down as he stared darkly into your eyes.

"If I was such an asshole I wouldn't be worried about you." He stated and then after a moment his expression softens ans he releases yor wrists.

You sigh, rubbing your wrist as it stung from his grip as he paces around the room.

"I just don't get it, why are you treating yourself like this?"

"I don't like how I look." You spoke softly, barely above a whisper as you look down at the floor. His footsteps ceased and he looks at you in shock as he couldn't believe his darling would say something like that about herself.

"But I do.." he says, walking over and this time takes your hand gently and the other one he tilts your face to look at him. His eyes looked glossy before he spoke, "I will always love how you look...I've seen you even in your worse times and I still couldn't believe that I had such a beautiful girl."

You blush dodging his eyes and once again take interest in the floor, feeling a bit shy from the words he spoke. "But thats you, Dray."

"I would do anything to make you see yourself the way I see you, I really wish I could...just try for me?" He asks softly, playing with the tips of your fingers before bringing your hand up to his mouth and kisses it.

Maybe you could try for him at least enough to make him not as worried.

"I suppose...."

"Just a little bit, if its calories you're really worried about then have some fruit." Draco suggests as he piles food onto his plate like meat and bread. He had quidditch practice coming up for the day so he was going to need to have as much food as he could stomach.

His idea was good but it was just annoying because you didn't want to eat at all and yet, everything looked mouth watering. Damn you, elves.

"-And water," he added.

You sigh, grabbing some fruit that you liked. One good thing about fruit was that it had water so you were kind of cheating.

"Thank you darling. We'll take small steps so you don't get overwhelmed." He reaches over and squeezes your hand softly before placing a kiss to your cheek, "You got this."

[celest1all]

#DESIDERIUM: CHAPTER ONE

#PAIRING: [] draco malfoy x lupin!reader

#WARNINGS: [] depression, mentions of bad eating habits, 's about it for this one.

#AUTHORS NOTE: [] sorry it's so short guys ! i'm very sad atm and i just wanted to kick start this fic somehow lmao. enjoy :)

#DESIDERIUM MASTERLIST [] read the rest here <-

The worst part about depression isn't the sadness or the never ending pit of pain you somehow end up falling back into regardless of how happy your life is, it's the not feeling anything. No happiness, no sadness and not even anger itself can find its way into your body.

It's just empty.

And that's what she felt, every quaking moment of her day was filled by a gnawing sense of emptiness that nothing could fix. She tried everything, cigarettes, alcohol and even self harm. None of it seemed to heal the wounds inside her, only leaving more visible ones at that.

She found something else, a way to help herself - or atleast that's what she thought she was doing - and that was helping others, giving the people around her the love and care she believed they deserved.

You walked into the Great Hall, silently wishing that all the food was gone as you weren't particularly hungry in the first place. You scanned over the huge array of students trying to pinpoint the people you were closest to - and the people you made it your mission to protect and help no matter the personal cost.

Harry was the first to notice you coming over, the slight smile gracing his lips upon seeing you. He waved you over and alerted Hermione and Ron that you were there.

"Hey," he said lightly, moving over on the bench to let you sit down "how are you doing?"

His question caught you off guard a bit, no one really paid that much mind to how you felt. You shrugged the feeling off as believing that he only cared as you were the daughter of his late Godfathers best friend.

"I'm fine." You say with a plastered smile, hoping it wouldn't let you down now. It never did, but there was always a chance it might at some point.

Hermione and Ron didn't seem totally interested in your presence and Harry nodded at your answer, going back to the two other Gryffindors in front of him and animatedly conversating with them.

Deciding not to push the conversation - or any conversation for that matter - any further, you started looking around the Great Hall again. Your eyes ended up looking at the Slytherin table, the green and silver ultimately catching your eye.

You never really spoke with any of the Slytherins, there were a few minute long sentences with a few of them like Theodore Nott, Blaise Zabini and Pansy Parkinson. You like Blaise the most, he was nice. You had tripped over one of the other Slytherins foot (you were unsure if it was purposeful or not) and Blaise offered you his hand to help you back up. Ever since then, he would give you small smiles now and again, but you still didn't really speak a lot.

Blaise ended up noticing you daydreaming whilst staring at their table and smiled lightly at you, giving you a small wave. Jolting out of the trance you were in, you waved back, once again giving another fake smile that was getting all to easily to hide.

"Why you waving at her for?" Someone from beside Blaise spoke, he knew who it was though.

Blaise simply shrugged and turned to face Draco, "She's nice, I helped her one time."

Draco snorted at that, disgusted by the idea that one of his own was willing to help a Gryffindor - you no less. "You do know who she is, right?" He says snarkily. "She's Lupins daughter."

Blaise just shrugged again, not really sure of where to go from there. He decided to not continue the conversation and started speaking to Theodore Nott about something else, something irrelevant to you.

Draco looked at Blaise briefly and back to where you were in the Great Hall, you were staring deeply into the table in front of you, whilst still trying engage in any conversation that might potentially be thrown your way by the others. He couldn't understand why someone from his house would help you, and then continue to be civil towards you. You're not only a Gryffindor, but also a werewolf's daughter! Why was Blaise so willing to be nice to you?

The platinum haired boy was fascinated - no, he was confused and ultimately annoyed - about that fact, and what was so special about you. There couldn't be anything, right?

Draco wanted to find out why, and if there's one thing he prides himself on being, is that he will always get his way regardless of the consequences.

[satansapostle6]

Lovers and Liars | Draco Malfoy

Draco Malfoy and Theodore Nott, both determined and resourceful from reputable houses, find themselves at odds in the name of love.

Warning: Mature themes/language. Violence. Sexual content.

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven: Celebration

Lorelei had received another vague note underneath her pillow Christmas Eve, the night before the Yule Ball. She had hidden it before Theo snuck into her dorm room to wish her a Happy Christmas Eve, and it was hidden in a drawer, waiting for her for the moment she arrived back in the room alone. But until then, Lorelei was allowed a moment of peace as Theo said a sweet ‘good morning’ to her, closing the door eagerly before greeting her.

“Happy Christmas, my love,” Theodore said gently, grasping her face in his hands.

“Happy Christmas, Theo,” Lorelei smiled up at him.

She planted a gentle, romantic kiss on his lips, happy to see him. It was moments like these, the kind and romantic moments that confused her. She knew she loved Theo, and she knew indubitably that he loved her, and would have done anything at all for her. But still, she didn’t know if Theo was truly the one she wanted.

“I have something for you,” Theo said with a genuine, happy smile on his face.

Lorelei looked up at him curiously.

“I thought we said no gifts,” she frowned, realizing he’d broken their pact.

“Well, I couldn’t resist,” he admitted, pulling something from his pocket.

“What did you get me?” she stared, looking down at the clearly expensive box he held in his hand.

“Just something to wear tomorrow night, if you want,” he offered. “Here. Happy Christmas.”

Lorelei smiled as she hesitantly accepted the box. She opened it to find a ring inside, a beautiful sapphire ring that matched her dress.

“Theo,” she breathed.

“Like I said. Happy Christmas, love.”

Lorelei threw her arms around him, thanking him sweetly. Christmas morning breakfast was relatively peaceful, with the exception of Draco Malfoy staring the entire time from down the table. Lorelei knew he must have been getting impatient. She knew he wanted her, and he’d stop at nothing to get her. That was the most dangerous part.

The note said to meet Draco in the library at 11:00, and so Lorelei did just that. She arrived at the library after she and Theo had parted ways after breakfast, finding him sitting at a table in the back near a window. When Lorelei first saw Draco, she felt he seemed far too eager to see her, a mischievous grin on his face as she sat down in front of him.

“What did you want, Malfoy?” she asked him.

“What, no ‘hello’?” he quipped.

“You know I shouldn’t be here,” she reminded him.

“That’s what makes it exciting,” Draco reminded her, earning an insincere eye roll.

Lorelei wanted to pretend that Draco made her angry, that he irked her, that his aggressive flattery wasn’t amusing on some level. But for some reason, she couldn’t, and she cursed herself for it. Somehow, she saw Draco Malfoy sitting there in the library, looking cocky as ever as he leaned back in his black turtleneck, and she couldn’t help but feel something for him. What, she had no idea.

But she couldn’t deny that his impulsiveness was something she was entirely unfamiliar with, especially in comparison to Theo, who was as calculated as it got. Lorelei believed that she was truly in love with Theo Nott, but she felt something else for Draco that couldn’t be explained completely.

“What did you want to say to me?” Lorelei questioned, adding a bored drawl to her voice. “I have other places to be.”

“Like where, with your boyfriend?” Draco asked dismissively.

“For starters,” she frowned.

“I still can’t believe you’re with him,” Draco scoffed, “I mean… Don’t get me wrong, that hair, those eyes? I’d kiss him myself if I could. But, I just can’t see him keeping up with a girl like you.”

“Well, you also don’t see behind closed doors,” she snapped.

“Oh, I’d pay to,” he promised her.

“What do you want, Malfoy?” Lorelei repeated.

“You,” he said without missing a beat.

“Something I can actually help with,” she frowned.

Draco smiled. “Relax, Lorelei. I just… wanted to wish you a happy Christmas,” he finished.

She raised an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you got me a present, too,” she remarked incredulously.

“I was in a gift-giving mood,” Draco shrugged.

She watched as he reached into his pocket, placing a velvet box on the table. Lorelei looked up at him with more than enough attitude to get her point across, watching as he crudely slid it to her across the table. She picked it up tentatively, still giving him a look

“Sorry it’s not wrapped,” he added sarcastically.

“Are you really trying to buy my affection?” she asked finally.

“I’m rich enough to give it a shot,” he shrugged.

Lorelei shook her head, opening up the box. Her eyes widened when she realized that the color of the stones on the teardrop earrings matched the color of her dress, just like her gift from Theo.

“These match my dress,” she stared in disbelief.

“I had to be thorough,” Draco insisted.

“Well, if you must know, I will be keeping these,” she announced as she rose from her seat, “But don’t think this means I’ll leave Theo for you.”

“And why not?” Draco asked her, standing up. “Aren’t you tired of playing the perfect couple with Nott? Wouldn’t you rather be with someone else who excites you?” he demanded.

“I’d rather be with someone who doesn’t see me as a game,” Lorelei hissed, a certain darkness in her eyes.

Draco looked at her in surprise, not understanding what she meant.

“You like to flirt with me to piss off Theo, and tell me to meet you places in the dead of night, but as soon as you actually have me, you’ll grow tired of me,” Lorelei said with finality, “There’s no way I actually mean something to you!”

Draco nodded, biting his lip as he looked down at the ground, accepting that that was how she perceived him.

“I know it might seem that way, Lorelei,” he assured her earnestly, “I know my motives aren’t always so cut and dry…”

He paused for a moment as he tried to think of the right thing to say.

“But I want you. I want you to be my date to the ball. And I really did want you to have those earrings, Lorelei,” Draco stated.

She hardly knew what to think.

“Why do you want me so badly?!” she thought aloud in frustration.

“Because you’re perfect,” Draco insisted.

“No, I’m not,” she argued.

“You are in the ways that matter,” he responded.

“Well, I killed a man!” Lorelei blurted out, before she even knew what she was saying.

Draco was completely taken aback, unsure of how to even react.

“What—What do you mean by that?” he questioned.

Lorelei forced her eyes shut out of fear, realizing what a terrible mistake she’d just made.

“Lorelei? Lorelei, what do you mean?” Draco asked, growing increasingly concerned by her silence.

“Remember Crouch?” she began, watching as his eyes widened.

“Crouch?! Are you telling me you killed Crouch?!”

Draco had to stop to look around to make sure no one had heard him just as he nearly finished speaking.

“Yes. I did,” Lorelei confessed.

“Why?!” Draco wondered.

“It… it’s a long story,” she told him. “I just… I did it for my family,” she concluded.

This revelation did in fact earn a strange reaction from Draco, although not necessarily the one Lorelei would have anticipated. He seemed surprisingly enough less concerned with the murder aspect and more concerned with how her situation might affect him, being from another wealthy Hogwarts family. One thing Lorelei had learned about Draco was that coming from the type of family they were both born into affected him more than it did her.

Draco was many things, but emotionally mature was not one of them. At times, Draco lacked common sense, and more often than not, he genuinely lacked empathy, or at least a full scope of it.

“What happened?” he asked her. “Is something big happening?”

Lorelei said nothing.

“I’m not stupid,” he reminded her, “I saw what happened at the World Cup. I saw what my father did; and yours,” he reasoned sharply.

“I shouldn’t say anything,” she sighed, eyes filling with tears as she tried to honor her various obligations. “I’ve said too much already.”

Draco Malfoy stared at her, genuinely worried, as he saw the pain reflected in her eyes.

“Lorelei,” her name barely left his lips, “You can tell me anything you know. I promise, any secrets of yours are safe with me.”

“There’s nothing else I can say!” she said out of frustration, burying her face in her hands for a moment as she rubbed at her eyes. “I’m sworn to secrecy. Besides, you’ll find out soon enough. I’m in the same boat as your father, at this point.”

Draco stared at her in disbelief, unable to fathom that she might be in the same position as his father, who was sworn to serve Lord Voldemort.

“You’re supposed to help bring him back?” he asked softly.

Lorelei met his gaze. The most she could do was refrain from saying ‘no’. This was more than enough for Draco.

“You don’t have to do that, Lorelei,” he told her out of sympathy. “Please, let me help you!”

“There’s nothing I can do. I just have to survive this,” she sighed.

“But you don’t have to do it alone,” he tried to convince her. “I’m the heir to Malfoy Manor. I have money, connections, a safe place you could go to, if you ever needed it. Let me help you,” he pleaded.

Lorelei found herself genuinely swept by his offer in that moment. It was true, Draco Malfoy was certainly one of the wealthiest and most well-connected people at Hogwarts, let alone students. But she also knew that Draco couldn’t be trusted. Not necessarily for the most obvious of reasons, but because Draco Malfoy was old enough to have the means to make his own promises, but still not strong enough to keep them. Lorelei knew she couldn’t afford to depend on him.

“You can’t help me, Draco,” Lorelei stated, knowing it wouldn’t get through his head.

“Only one way to find out,” he debated her.

“No, Draco,” she shook her head apologetically. “No…”

“Why not?” he demanded. “You know Nott can’t help you like I can help you.”

“I don’t know that that’s true,” Lorelei reasoned.

“Lorelei, I know you don’t want to believe it, but I’m your best shot,” Draco insisted. “I can help you. Together, we’d be… Well. We’d be unstoppable,” he chuckled.

Lorelei’s face shifted into a frown, having heard his exact words before.

“Why is it that everyone makes me the same offer?” she shook her head.

“Because you are unstoppable,” Draco told her, “And you attract powerful people. Don’t get me wrong; Nott’s going to be a powerful man. But I’m already more powerful than he is, and you know it.”

Lorelei had nothing to say to him for a moment.

“Face it; you’re afraid because you know that you backed the wrong horse,” Draco said coolly, his face mere inches from hers. “You're starting to realize you made the wrong decision, and you’re starting to look for a way out. And now, you’ve got one,” he pointed out.

“I love Theo,” Lorelei said with a striking severity.

“Not as much as you love you,” he fired back. “That’s what you really need; someone who doesn’t mind being second to you in your eyes. Someone who will also put you first.”

She glanced down at the ground, unsure of what to make of the situation she was being faced with.

“You know who you want, Lorelei,” Draco told her. “You know that together, we’d rule the world someday. You know that. I’m a Malfoy, you’re a Morrigan. My father was one of the Dark Lord’s closest and most trusted advisors. Your father is descended from Rowena Ravenclaw. We could be on top of the world tomorrow… You’d be happy, you know.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“You could be Mrs. Malfoy some day. That’s worth a hell of a lot more than Mrs. Nott. I could make you happy. I could give you anything, and everything, you want. I’d love you more than he ever could,” Draco promised, his blue eyes glassy with obsession. “Just come to the ball with me.”

“I don’t know if I can do that,” she sighed.

“Try,” he insisted, watching as she turned away and headed for the door.

*****

The Yule Ball came far too soon for Lorelei. The ball should have been something to look forward to, as it was for all the other girls, but considering everything, Lorelei wasn’t overly excited. The only thing she actually looked forward to was her sabotage of Pansy Parkinson. Theo had picked up on her indifference toward the event, and had chalked it up to a natural lack of respect for school events. So, their demeanor at the event was austere to say the least.

Lorelei and Theo both watched everyone from the ledge up above, like two ravens on a wire. Lorelei spotted Pansy the moment she arrived, in a rather frilly pink gown she’d probably thought was the most special thing on earth. The moment they saw her, Theo looked to Lorelei with a huge grin on his face as they waited for Millicent Bulstrode to arrive.

Lorelei burst out laughing the moment Pansy saw Millicent Bulstrode, the Slytherin girl unfortunately nicknamed ‘The Bull’ arrived in the Great Hall wearing the exact same dress. The look on her face was absolutely priceless. Lorelei had chosen that particular moment to make her descension down the steps with Theo. As soon as they did, everyone waiting in the hall looked to them, for one reason or another.

Pansy Parkinson was the first to see Lorelei Morrigan arrive at the Yule Ball with Theodore Nott, and absolutely hate her. Pansy lost her mind when she saw Lorelei in her perfect sage green grown, smiling. Lorelei’s grin widened when she saw Pansy’s reaction.

“It was her!” Pansy gasped. “She did this, I know she did this!”

Theo chuckled softly as he stood by Lorelei’s side, her arm wrapped around his. Lorelei slowly stepped toward Pansy, looking forward to her inevitable meltdown.

“Lorelei, you foul bitch!” Pansy screamed, as everyone began to look.

Blaise Zabini was struggling with stifling his laughter as he stood beside Crabbe and Goyle.

“And what, exactly, did I do this time?” Lorelei wondered smugly.

“You did this!” she yelled, looking down at her dress angrily.

“I am many things, Pansy, but I’m certainly not responsible for your horrible fashion sense,” she remarked, eliciting a few snickers from their captive audience.

“Don’t you fucking pretend, you told Bulstrode to get the same dress as me!” Pansy shrieked. “No one here goes to the boutique I went to!”

“Because it’s cheap-looking,” Lorelei told her.

“You’re just jealous of me! You’ve always been jealous!” Pansy cried, practically jumping up and down. “Jealous, jealous, jealous!”

“You’re right,” Lorelei sighed, “I’ve always wanted to look like an obese cupcake.”

Even Theo had to cover his mouth.

“Admit it, Pansy,” Lorelei said softly, “You’re the one who’s obsessed with me. Not the other way around.”

Pansy scoffed in disbelief, stammering nervously as she tried to come up with something to say. “I’m not obsessed with you! Why would I be obsessed with you?!” she snarled.

“How should I know?” Lorelei demanded. “You’ve always tried to make me seem lesser than you. You were never my friend, you just wanted me to make you look good. But I looked good, so you tried to get rid of me.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, you pathetic slag!” Pansy lashed out.

“Pansy, let’s keep things friendly, hmm?” Theo reminded her, stepping in only to reign in the scene that was unfolding.

“Oh, stay out of this, before you end up dead like your mother!” Pansy snapped at him.

Everyone around them seemed horrified by her crude remark, but Lorelei, who knew Theo better than anyone, just chuckled excitedly as she awaited his retaliation. Lorelei looked up at Theo, who seemed more than eager to put her in her place.

“That’s fair,” Theo said softly, before anyone else stepped in, “My mother’s an easy jab… It is rather funny that she’s dead, isn’t it?”

Everyone stood in the hall dead silent as he spoke, too afraid to say much.

“But, hey,” Theodore remarked, laughing lightly, “At least my mother never fucked her brother, right?” he questioned.

Everyone waiting in the hall, including Lorelei, let out a burst of involuntary laughter as Pansy’s face fell. It was Lorelei’s turn to cover her mouth as she and Theo stood there, victorious.

“Remember, Parkinson,” Theo laughed coldly, “I can find out more than where you get your clothes.”

Pansy was about to scream, to say the least.

“Oh, you just wait, Theodore Nott!” she wailed. “You just wait until my date comes—”

“Oh, if your date’s coming, we’ll leave,” Theo promised, “I’ve heard you have cousins that used to be Death Eaters!”

For once, Pansy was the joke of Slytherin House, as she should have been. Plenty of laughs broke out in the hall, cackled and guffaws from girls and boys and Slytherins and Gryffindors alike. The laughter slowly died down as someone else came up behind Theo.

“Come on, now. Can’t we all be friends?”

They and Lorelei both turned, watching as Draco entered the hall. Much to Lorelei’s surprise, he stopped at Pansy’s side, pressing a chivalrous kiss to her hand. Draco grinned as his eyes stopped on Lorelei, as if to make some sort of point. She was seething as she realized that Draco certainly seemed to have decided who he wanted as his date, and it wasn’t her, despite all the promises he’d made to her. Whatever consideration Lorelei had given to his proposal, it disappeared the moment she saw him smiling as he pressed his forehead to Pansy’s.

Despite not knowing what his feelings for her were, Lorelei could see that this newfound affection for Pansy was clearly a lie. She gritted her teeth and said nothing, hiding the look of contempt on her face as she aligned herself with Theo as he decided it best they leave.

“Come on,” Theo said, looking down at his girlfriend. “Tonight’s a celebration. Let’s not let anything, or anyone, so inconsequential ruin our special night.”

“No,” Lorelei agreed, taking one last look at Draco.

He met her eyes still with a haughty grin on his face, which hardened swiftly as he was met with a cold glare. He knew he should’ve dropped dead in that moment.

-

Chapter Twelve

[weasleys-wizard-writes]

Betrothed Part II

Fred Weasley x Reader x Draco Malfoy

Series Synopsis: Having been raised in a pureblood family obsessed with keeping the bloodline pure you’re betrothed at birth to a boy you’ve never met. Unaware of just how strange this is, you have few qualms with it, until you meet Fred Weasley and find that love is much more complicated than you ever could’ve imagined. But what happens when everyone is all grown up, and the real world can’t be stopped?

Genre: Angst

Content Warnings:

Angst

Death

Forced Marriage

Word Count: 2,109

The crowd was silent after you finished speaking those two final words, the weight of them seeming to fall upon the room and quiet every little sound. You looked to your mother after a few seconds of this agonizing silence, and without a sound of her own she quickly shot a glance at the man performing your wedding ceremony.

As if only just remembering where he was, the man cleared his throat, swallowing thickly before he gave you a thin-lipped smile, clasping his hands together in front of him as he finally began to speak once more, breaking apart that cold and empty silence. 

“Draco Malfoy.”

He said, his voice just loud enough to carry to the back of the room, causing a few distant relatives of yours to snap their heads up, as if they only just realized they were at a wedding rather than a funeral.

 In response to the minister's words, Draco looked away from your clasped sets of hands and towards the man, showing he was listening so he would continue. 

“Do you take Y/n L/n to be your lawfully wedded w-” 

“I do.” 

Draco cut the man off suddenly, causing him to blink his eyes wider in surprise for a brief moment before he regained his composure, adjusting his tie as he continued with his normal speech. 

“Then by the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife...” 

He trailed off, his gaze returning to Draco’s, the eye contact holding this time, 

“You may now kiss the bride.” 

You looked up towards Draco as these words left the ministers mouth, and as you did Draco’s gaze locked with your own. You swallowed thickly as you looked deep into his eyes, feeling the hair on the back of your neck rise as a familiar cool breath hit your neck. 

‘You can do this’,

that oh so familiar voice spoke, barely above a whisper despite the fact that you knew no one else would’ve been able to hear it even if it was screaming. Your hands squeezed involuntarily around Draco’s in response to the sudden interruption, and for a brief moment your new husband’s gaze flickered back down to your enjoined fingers before moving quickly back up to your face. He seemed to study you for a moment, his tongue gently prodding the inside of his lip in thought as he did so. 

You have no idea how long the two of you stood there like that, neither of you moving to kiss the other as the crowd before you watched in silence. And then suddenly, as if he remembered where he was, Draco leaned forward, the side of his face grazing your own as his lips tickled your ear.

“I’m sorry”.

His voice was so quiet you’d barely heard him at all, and you had only just made out what had been said said when he suddenly pulled away until the tip of his nose was pressed lightly against your own. He stayed like that for a very brief moment, but it was plenty long enough for you to see the look in his eyes. 

It was a guilty and grief filled determination. 

And then, before you could even begin to process what that meant, he used your clasped hands to pull you closer, his lips locking with yours in your first ever kiss.

And to your surprise, you immediately found yourself kissing him back.

Draco seemed equally shocked by this, his lips briefly halting against your own, before he recalled where he was once more and removed one of his hands from yours in order to cradle the back of your head.

 It was not until he pulled away, his eyes locking with yours once again, that the crowd began to clap and cheer at a volume that felt earth shattering in that once silent room. 

You took a step back at the sudden sound, and Draco gave you a short smile as he uncurled the fingers on your left hand. You looked down at him, your ears still overwhelmed with the clamor of the world around you, as he slipped a beautiful ring on your finger, followed shortly thereafter by a band that matched his own.

“Welcome to the family.”

 He murmured, his hand still holding yours as he turned to face the crowd, all of whom rose to their feet save for one sullen looking Weasley twin, who was far more alone than he had been at birth.

You locked eyes with George for a moment, trying desperately to read his expression as you began to walk forward, Draco leading the way down the aisle, which was lined with friends and family on either side despite how few of them you felt truly knew you. 

The reception after the ceremony was a very strange event indeed, with your distant family members all coming up to you to say their congratulations, not one of them seeming to recall your name as they did. This carried on for hours as you went about your bridal duties, which mostly consisted of dancing with your husband, sitting at the head of a long table, and above all else, looking perfect.

Draco was beside you for each and every one of these duties, usually silently watching whoever was speaking to you with an expression that you found most difficult to read. The annoyance on his face was clear enough, as well as the obvious disdain, but besides that you had no idea how he was feeling, and it certainly seemed like his emotions were far more vast than those which you could understand with ease. 

The reception lasted hours, with nearly every single invited guest coming up to you and your new husband personally to give you well wishes and wedding gifts, all of which were left wrapped and placed on a table behind the two of you. The wealth found between the Malfoy and L/n families led to large array of gifts littered all across the table and the floor by the time the night was over, but despite the immense number of beautifully wrapped presents, one had your attention more than any other.

The haphazardly wrapped gift was square, with a sudden dip on one side, as if it briefly went hollow or moved inward without any warning. This was the gift that George had wordlessly lain on top of a few others towards the beginning of the reception, offering you a silent nod before he walked out of the venue, never returning inside despite the rest of his family members remaining at the celebration for the next few hours. You had made a mental note to check in on George later, as you often did nowadays, but were forced to turn your attention back to the other guests at your wedding not long after he left, somehow not taking notice of the way that Draco’s eyes would drift back to the door from time to time now that George was gone. 

You and Draco hardly spoke throughout the entirety of the reception, both of you far too busy dealing with your various family members to find the time to do so. But afterward, when everything was over and the two of you had nothing better to do but head to the place that Draco simply referred to as “Home“, you were suddenly all too aware of the fact that you barely knew this man at all, and beyond even that, you had no idea what to say to him. It seemed that Draco was met with a similar dilemma, because the two of you were met with only silence from the other even as you reached your destination.

The Malfoy manner, large and cold stood before you, all of the lights off and the entrance beneath your feet cracked due to the age of the home. Generations, that is how long this manor had been in Draco’s family, and you had been here plenty of times throughout the years, but without Astoria, or even your mother by your side, it felt wrong to be standing on those steps. 

You had never liked this place, or the haunting and somber darkness that created each shadow held within, and as Draco quietly placed his hand upon the door to slowly push it open, you couldn’t help but pray it wouldn’t budge. Still, your prayers meant nothing in a place like this, and you winced as the door began to creak open, the sound old and lonely despite the fact that until today, Draco’s mother had inhabited it without fail despite all that had happened to the family. There were rumors aplenty that Draco had been refusing to enter ever since the war a few months prior, but as you watched him now you doubted those had any truth to them. He seemed comfortable enough, pressing on the dark wood of the manor door, pushing it open slowly,  until suddenly he stopped, looking over to meet your gaze despite you not even realizing that you had been watching him. 

“We don’t have to stay here.” He said quietly, moving his hand to let the door fall closed beside him, his body turning so he could face you properly for the first time since your wedding that morning. You looked him over skeptically, wondering why he was suddenly so concerned with where you wanted to be. He had neglected to ask you what you wanted prior to your arrival at the manor, so why did it matter enough for him to ask now? It made no sense to you, and you looked him up and down in search for some kind of answer.

 Said answer came in the form of a pair of very nervous pale hands. 

Draco had his hands clasped together now that there was no longer one resting upon the heavy wooden door, and it seemed he was doing this in a vain attempt to hide their shakiness from you. His veins stuck out against his pale skin, pulsing a bit as his fingers twitched seemingly against his will, his pointer and thumb on his right-hand fiddling with the wedding band that he wore on the ring finger of his left. It was as if he had been wearing that ring for his entire life, and had grown used to it being there, and you wondered for a moment if he had worn a different ring in that spot before.

Draco watched your eyes as you stared at his hands, unclasping them and clenching both into fists, one of which he kept at his side as he raised the other to his mouth whilst clearing his throat uncomfortably. 

It was very clear that he did not want to be here, but if that was true, why wouldn’t he have asked you about going to your house instead?

You watched your husband for a moment longer, eyes moving upward to meet his gaze as he ran his raised hand through his hair, trying his best to avoid your eyes from the very moment he saw you looking back at him. He was afraid, that much was clear, and despite how long it had been since you would have called him a friend, you knew you didn’t want him to feel fear any longer. 

“Let’s go to my place then.”

 You said quietly in response to his words, watching as Draco visibly relaxed, his shoulders becoming far less tense and the hand that was still fussing with his hair dropping softly back down to his side. His eyes met your own again after a few seconds of silence, and he swallowed thickly before speaking, his voice strained as if he were struggling to get the words out of his mouth.

“You have your own place too?”

 He asked, moving to walk down the steps of the manor as if being close to it was bothering him. You followed without questioning where he was going, nodding before you responded to his question.

 “Yeah, I started living on my own as soon as I was done with school. I don’t like big houses very much, so it’s a pretty tiny spot, but I think we’ll both prefer it to the manor.”

You said quietly, and Draco stopped walking for a moment to look back at you, his gaze briefly moving past to take in the large building that was slowly but surely growing further and further away.

 “I think so too.”

He said softly, waiting for you to catch up with him fully before you started to make your way to the place you called home.

masterlist

Ko-fi

[undecidedravenclaw]

REQUEST PLS

e n e m i e s t o l o v e r s t r o p e - p r o m p t l i s t

these are prompt lists which im so excited to do and share in the future and i hope my list only grows :)

-ˏˋ. dialogue ˊˎ-

"As if you would ever cross my fucking mind."

"fuck you" "when"

“He so likes her.”

“I don’t mind wasting time on you.”

“I feel the opposite of hate…towards you.”

“I feel things…”

"I hate you, I hate you, I hate you"

“I might need more.”

“I’m not…used to feeling this way, okay?”

“Oh - don’t fucking do that.”

"shut up and kiss me"

"such a pretty liar mhmm"

“Took you long enough.”

“We might have been wrong.”

"what did you do"

“What the fuck is your problem?

"where the hell is he?"

"you want me?" "you know i do"

"stop crying"

"stop acting as if you're royalty, join reality."

"this is so wrong-"

-ˏˋ. scenarios ˊˎ-

both of them are in forced proximity because of a crowd rush

internal conflict of being enemies with benefits

fake dating to get someone of their back

enemies but they are shivering and the other offers their hoodie

they make fun of eachother just to keep their attention

they have to work together and they hit a realization on how its not too bad

injured and goes to them to fix up their wounds as they have no where else to go

cant stand that they're ignoring them

[c1nnam00n]

me seeing that my fav character barely/doesn’t have any fanfics OR imagines

[blac-ivy]

One thing golden era Wattpad writers had going for them was that they knew the importance of a buildup. I'm of the opinion that the sexual tension is WAY more satisfying to read than the actual sex and quite frankly there is a serious lack of non smutty writing.

Like I really miss reading fics/ x readers that start from scratch. Meeting the characters, initial reactions getting to know them, the tension the jealousy the TENSION the freaking tension.

Looking and looking away when they get spotted, touches that feel like they linger but perhaps they didn't and they're both so hot for each other that they think it's wishful thinking. And I don't mean just sweet sunshine romances, darker works can have a buildup too but it seems like so much is just about getting to the smut instead of the psychological aspect.

Bring back the build up!!!!!!!

[tsukimirecs]

SLYTHERIN // fic recommendations

note: remember to read the tags! + i do not own any of these works

REGULUS BLACK

le lendemain matin

the salt and the sea

forever

the better of two bad options

a pen

the door

the black heir

distraction

THEODORE NOTT

love is sour grapes

by netws & nott

something stronger

like snow on the beach

the only heaven i'll be sent to (is when i'm alone with you)

TOM RIDDLE

desiderium

love again

from the glue

salted caramel, metal, strawberries, vanilla, and ink

midmorning

effects of amortentia

DRACO MALFOY

our little secret

honeydukes

firsts

how could i ever forget?

makeup

draco malfoy with shy!male!reader headcanons

cherry juice

MATTHEO RIDDLE

the cat

puppy eyes

the game

rainy nights m.r

LORENZO BERKSHIRE

like nobody else

[colmiillo]

Seriously, you again, reading a fic about a person who doesn't even know you exist,OR WORST,doesn't even exist........same thing sis. Keep reading

[lqveharrington]

The Alchemy | D.M.

summary: Although Draco promised that he would keep your relationship a secret just for you, he can’t contain himself after winning the Hogwarts quidditch cup.

pairing: draco malfoy x hufflepuff!reader

includes: FLUFF, established relationship (and a last name of Evergreen for the reader)

a/n: inspired by the olympics recently ❤️

When Draco asked you out in fourth year, you thought it was a joke. Sure, you were both acquainted due to your pure wizardry bloodline, but you were in Hufflepuff. The only time the other houses thought you were useful was when they wanted to sneak into the kitchen. So when he came up and sat down beside you when you were studying potions, you were disheartened.

“Malfoy, please don’t do this.” You sigh, rubbing your forehead. You were just starting to understand what ingredients made a truth serum.

“Do what? I’m asking you if you want to go to Hogsmeade together this weekend.” He spun the Malfoy signet ring adorning his hand.

You look up at him with tired eyes, “Did someone put you up to this?”

“What? No no, I—“ He cleared his throat, feeling his cheeks warm at how you were able to fluster him with even a small glance. “I’m really asking you to go on a date with me.”

You search his face for any indication of a lie, before biting your lip softly and looking down at your parchment. “Are you really?”

“I am.” Draco dropped his hand onto yours to stop your fidgeting with the quill.

You felt your own face heat up at the notion. He thumbed your palm softly as you stayed quiet, not minding his closeness. Finally, you looked up at him, “You have yourself a date, Malfoy.” He sent you a soft smile but before he could say anything else, you interrupted. “Please don’t let me down.”

Draco never let you down. Despite your earlier doubts, you saw how kind and thoughtful the Malfoy heir was underneath his hardened shell his father had built around him. In private, he was always attentive, loving, clingy — there wasn’t a moment where he was separated from you. In public, he had to rein in those feelings just for you.

Even when you started your seventh year at Hogwarts, you were still terrified what others at school would say about a Hufflepuff dating the Slytherin Prince. Sure, his parents and your parents knew, but not the entirety of Hogwarts. You had asked Draco to keep your relationship private until you were ready to face the reality of your relationship to the rest of the world. He begrudgingly agreed, respecting your wishes; but the need to kiss you in front of the entire student body to rightly claim that you were his was wavering.

Especially when it had been three years since you first started dating. And right now, you were currently hiding below the stands together as you greeted him with good luck kisses for his final quidditch match as a student in Hogwarts.

“I.” Kiss. “Love.” Kiss. “You.” Kiss. You say softly as he holds you close by your hips — smiling into all your kisses. “Good.” Kiss. “Luck.” Kiss.

“You’re killing me here, love.” Draco murmurs against your lips. He pulls away gently to look at your ever so loving gaze. He draws small hearts on you hip, “You done?”

“Never.” You kiss him again, hands cupping his jaw. “I want you to be stuck with me forever.”

He hums into the kiss as you thumb his cheeks softly, “I will after I win this game, my love.”

You separate again, grinning like a lovesick puppy. “Good luck, Dray. I’ll see you later.” You press one last kiss to his lips before leaving his arms and running up the Hufflepuff stands to cheer. You couldn’t deny that even after all these years he still made you giddy and red.

Draco shook his head with a soft smile only you could coax out of him. He walked out from the stands and hopped on his broom, ready in the air for his final match as Slytherin’s seeker. Cheers filled the stadium as the players took their place, captains shaking hands.

The final match for Slytherin and Gryffindor was probably the most anticipated all year round. Since it was also Harry Potter’s last game as seeker, and the two seekers were known as rivals, it was hyped up to be one of the best end matches of the season.

As the game progressed, Slytherin and Gryffindor were constantly tied. It was really up to the seekers to find the golden snitch to determine the winner. There were bets taking place in the house stands, mind fixated on earning a few galleons for the last time. For the Hufflepuff stands, they were a house divided. Many cheered for scarlet and gold while the other half cheered for green and silver.

You didn’t mind the division between your house. After all, you only watched the games for Draco. Your friends were cheering for the Gryffindors whilst you carried the small Slytherin flag in your hands — eyes trained on the blonde high above the game itself. The second you blinked from the blazing sun, Draco was soaring after the golden snitch, Harry close behind and eventually flying right next to him.

The shouts from the stands only fueled the seekers’ attention to the flying gold. Draco and Harry were chasing in circles after the snitch, attention focused on nothing else even as the bludger zoomed past them.

You held your breath as they both reach out for the snitch. Your friend held your shoulder in anticipation, watching the two closely. Before you could register what happened, she gasped and shook your shoulders in frustration.

“I lost ten galleons to that!” She sighed heavily as Draco flashed the golden snitch in the air.

The rush of the win made you scream happily with the other Hufflepuffs and houses cheering for the Slytherin team. You wear clapping your hands as the team began flying around in victory. You watched as Draco flew around the stands more as the rest of the Slytherin team settled on the grounds. His eyes scanned the stadium until they lit up when they saw you at the very front of the Hufflepuff stands — waving your Slytherin flag with pride.

“Seems like Malfoy is off showing the last snitch he’ll catch for the Slytherin quidditch team! But we all want to know where the trophy is!” The third year announcer spoke, voice casted across the stadium.

You smiled at Draco softly when you finally met his eyes. And before you knew it, he flew right over to you and cupped your face, kissing you senselessly. You grinned into the kiss as you held his cheeks, the shouts and screams from your housemates blending in your ears.

“Aw, quite a beautiful way to celebrate the win. Don’t you think so, McGonagall? Honestly, I wasn’t expecting Malfoy and Evergreen— Ow, sorry.” The third year announcer spoke once more, rubbing the spot the professor lightly hit them with a newspaper.

You part from Draco with a blinding smile, “I think I agree, this is a beautiful way to celebrate.” You say quietly only for him to hear, pressing quick kisses to his lips.

“I’m proud of you, love.” Draco nudges your nose with his to gently stop your kisses for a second — even though he did want more.

“Me? You just won the quidditch cup for your house!” You laugh while wrapping your arms behind his neck, careful in trying not to pull him off his broom.

He rubbed the apples of your cheeks, “You just let me kiss you in front of the entire student body… I think that’s more important.” He pulled you in for another mind searing kiss, making you smile helplessly.

“AGAIN?” The third year announcer shouted into the microphone once more. “Is there—“

“Alright, we’re done announcing, boys and girls.” Professor McGonagall spoke and shut the speakers off; although she was quite happy for the couple.

You giggled as he pulled you into a hug. “I love you.”

Draco pressed kisses to your cheek repeatedly, “I love you more.”

©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms

[noelan1]

Do you ever read a really questionable fanfiction or a spicy love story and think "what the fuck did I just read"

[celest1all]

#DESIDERIUM: MASTERLIST

#DESIDERIUM: an ardent desire or longing.

#PAIRING: [draco malfoy x lupin!fem Reader]

#WARNINGS: [just a prologue and masterlist so no actual warnings to be honest.]

#AUTHORS NOTE: [masterlist for my new fanfic about draco! thre will be angst, smut, hurt/comfort so enjoy!.]

Y/N Lupin was many things, she was incredibly smart and loyal, extremely selfless and she would do anything for the people she loves most in the world.

Getting it from her Father, Remus Lupin, she stayed true to her heritage and cared for others more than they would ever care for her -- even if it kills her.

Y/N believes that she was put into the world to make others feel cherished and looked after -- loved, even. But she doesn't believe that that is the the case for her self. She think's and is firm in her belief that she is loveless and incapable of having her feelings reciprocated, and she longs for it.

Will she finds someone who can change her mind, or will she crash and burn whilst trying to save others before anyone can save her?

#CHAPTERS

chapter one

[girllblogging777]

hi congrats on 1k!! can i please request a cinnamon tinged tale with mattheo riddle with a scenario where they have a fight and go to bed seperate but they both can’t sleep without each other!!

𝑈𝑁𝑆𝑃𝑂𝐾𝐸𝑁 𝑃𝑅𝑂𝑀𝐼𝑆𝐸𝑆 ˚ ༘✶

↳ bf!mattheo riddle x reader (angst, fluff)

↳ 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡 : 1.5k

𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦 :you and your boyfriend can’t sleep without eachother, but you had an argument

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

mattheo’s dorm was unnaturally quiet tonight. no whispers, no soft rustling of sheets, no stolen glances or quiet giggles. just silence, cold and deafening. he laid flat on his back, arms crossed behind his head, his jaw tense as he stared up at the dark ceiling of his room. the argument replaying in his mind on an endless, bitter loop.

he exhaled sharply through his nose. maybe he was an idiot like you had told him. scratch that. he definitely was. your words, heated and full of hurt, had ricocheted off the walls like a spell gone wrong. and instead of deflecting, instead of softening, he’d snapped back with the kind of sharpness he reserved for enemies. not for you. never for you.

but now you were gone. well, not gone-gone, but you weren’t here. you had stormed out of his dorm, muttering something about needing “space.” space. mattheo didn’t even know what to do with space.

his mind wandered to you. where were you now ? back in your own bed, curled up with that damn blanket you refused to replace no matter how many times he teased you about it? where you crying? did you hate him?

the ache in his chest tightened, like a hand gripping his heart. he turned to his side, punching the pillow beneath him in frustration. he needed you, your scent of cinnamon, your quiet murmurs before sleep, the way your hand would instinctively find his beneath the covers. without you, the room felt emptier than it had any right to.

across the castle, you sat cross-legged on your bed, staring out the window. the moon hung low, bathing the grounds in silver light, but your thoughts were anything but serene.

why had you said those things? you hadn’t meant to snap at him. it wasn’t his fault he was reckless, it was just who he was. you knew that, knew it better than anyone. but still, watching him flirt with danger, walking that fine line between thrill and disaster, it drove you insane. you cared too much to stay silent.

you sighed, hugging your knees to your chest. the bed felt too big, too cold without him. even on nights you two argued, you would always ended up tangled together, legs overlapping, breaths mingling. it was impossible to stay away from him and not to break the castle’s rules by sneaking into each other’s rooms past curfew. but tonight, you were alone.

minutes stretched into hours and you kept tossing and turning, thinking about him. at the same moment, mattheo swung his legs out of bed, running a hand through his messy curls. he didn’t care if he’d get caught. he didn’t care if you were still angry. he needed to see you.

suddenly, your bedroom door swung open and you turned around, eyes widening. “mattheo ?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. he stood there, unsure of what to say “i uh… i can’t sleep…”

“neither can i,” you admitted softly, watching him intently.

he stepped closer, his hand twitching at his sides. “i’m sorry, baby. i was a dick. you were just trying to look out for me and i lashed out, it wasn’t fair.”

your heart clenched at his honest words and you looked up at him, “i shouldn’t have pushed you, matt, i just worry about you too much. and sometimes, i feel like i care more about you than you do”

his brows furrowed and he finally reached out, his hand softly brushing against your cheek. “i do care. about me. about us. but i’m just… stupid sometimes.”

you couldn’t help but huff out a small laugh, leaning into his touch. “yup, you are.”

a ghost of a smile tugged at his lips. “does that mean i’m forgiven ?” you pretended to think a moment before answering, sighing. “only if you stay.”

and he didn’t need to be told twice.

moments later, you two were tangled together in your bed, your head resting on his chest as his fingered traced lazy, absentminded patterns on your back. neither of you spoke at first. the quiet felt sacred, too delicate to shatter. but mattheo couldn’t let it end there, not when he had so much to say.

“i don’t ever wanna go to bed mad at you again.” he murmured, his voice soft but heavy with meaning. his fingers stilled against your back, waiting for your response.

you tilted your head up, your chin resting on his chest as your eyes met his. “me neither,” you whispered back, “i hate how it feels, matt.”

he nodded, his hand moving to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing over your soft skin in the dark. “i know, love,” he admitted, “it feels wrong. everything feels wrong without you. i’m sorry i made you feel like i don’t care.” he paused for a second and you waited, silent.

“i care, baby. i care so much if scares the hell out of me sometimes.”

you could see it in his eyes, the way his walls had crumbled entirely for you and how painful that felt for him. mattheo riddle, who always unshakeably confident, was laying himself bare for you.

“i know,” you said in a steady voice. you reached up, your hand curling around his wrist. “but i’ll keep worrying about you, you know ? that’s not gonna change..”

he chuckled, the sound now and warm in the quiet room. “i figured, love. i don’t deserve you.”

“damn right you don’t,” you teased, your lips twitching into a genuine smile. then your voice softened “ but that doesn’t mean i’m going anywhere.”

the tension in mattheo’s body eased at your words, and he pulled you closer, his arms wrapping tightly around you as to shield you from the world. you felt the way his lips brushed against the top of your head, a soft gesture that made your heart flutter.

“i love you,” he said quietly, the words slipping out as naturally as breathing.

“i love you too,” you whispered back, your fingers clutching the fabric of his shirt as your heart pounded against your chest.

for the first time that night, the heavy weight between you lifted and the two of you stayed like that, your breaths syncing and limbs tangled in complete and utter peace. because no matter how messy you were, how much you clashed or stumbled, you always found your way back to eachother.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

a/n : tysm for this amazing idea ! tell me if you wanna be tagged and check out my 1k celebration for more !

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[slytherinboysvip]

Imagine best friend Mattheo being absolutely obsessed with his innocent little Hufflepuff bsf but she just can’t tell. Everyone else knows, and it is quite obvious, but she just can’t think someone like him would want someone like her. But when she jokingly says she’s gonna get Cedric to take her virginity he decides it’s time he came clean.

Possibly with some soft smut if you are comfortable with it of course

bsf mattheo riddle x hufflepuff reader

hopefully this matches your request <3 i’ll most likely make a part 2 for this because.. you’ll see ;) 3.5k words

you lived a rather simple uncomplicated life, attending hogwarts as a hufflepuff with no interest in anyone’s drama. though you kept to yourself most times you tried to be nice to all your peers maintaining your classic hufflepuff demeanor, despite this there was one thing that was different about you.

you see, you didn’t see or understand why people don’t like other houses just because of “house rivalry” especially the students who weren’t even participating in any sports or point winning. and with this over your years though you had few friends you had one best friend who at first seemed rather impossible to be friends with.. mattheo riddle.

when you two met you were a fourth year and him a fifth, coincidentally you were going on to a few friends about your annoyance with people automatically assuming the worst of slytherin even though you yourself weren’t in their house or nearly like one. mattheo overheard this heated- adorable voice coming from behind him and he walked towards you carefully.

he sat down in front of you beside your friend as she gawked faces towards you at his presence. “you don’t think we’re too mean, huh?” he questioned small laugh leaving his lips. “i just think that some people are misunderstood and just because some wizards turned out bad doesn’t mean all of them in your house are” you looked at him answering his question with ease

he smirked in amusement and leaned a little closer to you “hm, hufflepuff eh? what year are you puff?” he sat back examining you and you didn’t fail to notice that nickname he slipped in “fourth year but i have an early birthday which is annoying because i could technically be out sooner” you sighed ignoring his staring.

“well, seeing as it’s ravenclaw against gryffindor do you wanna watch the quidditch game with me i know the best view” he stood up and held his hand out for you, you look towards your friends and they’re both nodding their heads for you to go so you did.

from that point on you and mattheo had been best friends, sadly he was in his seventh year and now you in your sixth nothing much had changed in your life. living vicariously through mattheo and his stories about slytherin parties and how you should go to one with him before it’s too late, he’d tell you about his sexual adventures and your jaw would drop everytime.

you yourself also confided in him though with much less interesting things, telling him how you feel unlikeable by guys sometimes because they never try to get or talk to you, or how you feel lonely because you’ve never had a a boyfriend before. hed always help soothe the thoughts away, telling you that it’s only your brain making those things up , “listen y/n, anyone who doesn’t love you is fucking insane”.

𓆙

talking to your friend zarah who’d been there since day one you always told her what you told matt, for the most part. “i just don’t get why nobody is interested in me zar, like am i genuinely that ugly” you plopped onto your bed sighing dramatically. “you’re not ugly and if you think no guys want you you’re blind i know one in particular that really, really wants you” she giggled.

you looked at her with a confused expression “i must be missing something because i have no idea who you’re talking about” you awaited her response and she just rolled her eyes and sighed “girl your practically boyfriend of a best friend you do everything with” she gave you a duh look and you just laughed. you genuinely couldn’t believe she’d even think he’d like you especially with all the girls he’d been with, “you’re hilarious, we both know he doesn’t want me he wants all the girls he tells me about” you started to compose yourself but zarah’s expression didn’t change.

“you literally must be blind y/n do you need glasses? or should i say puff? let’s talk about how that man hasn’t stopped calling you that pet name since you’ve met.. he’s in love” she rolled her eyes raising her hands in the air. “i still don’t think he wants me so there’s no convincing me” you shrugged her off and she groaned getting up and leaving your shared dorm.

𓆙

“puff you gotta come to this party, slytherin won agains gryffindor i just know this is gonna be the party you want to go to pleaseee” mattheo put his hands on your shoulders shaking you “fiinee” you attempted to answer between shakes before he let you go “if i would’ve known it was that easy i would’ve done that years ago” he rolled his eyes.

“anyways it’s tonight at like 8 so i’ll just get you from your dorm at like 7 do you think they’ll let me in? actually what’s the password?” he didn’t give you time to finish any of your sentences before you just gave him the password “butterscotch” you whispered, in response mattheo laughed “fucking butterscotch merlin that’s hilarious” you looked up at him and rolled your eyes walking away.

“i’ll see you at 7 puff” he yelled across the hall and you just gave a thumbs up and continued walking. you honestly were quite nervous seeing as you’ve never necessarily been to a party before, you’ve made small appearances at hufflepuff parties but you’ve heard they don’t even compare to slytherin.

making your way into your dorm you spot zarah and you pull her up from the common room couch “i finally said yes to a party need help now” you quickly mumbled and she quickened her pace “when does it start girl i need the info right this second come on you’re talking too long for me” she rushed and you blurted it all out “8pm he’s getting me at 7 he has the password he will be at the dorm” closing the door behind you two you both stopped to catch your breath

“sooo is it a dateee” she shimmied her arm on you winking “i already told you he doesn’t like me!!” you replied to her relentlessness. “ugh whatever we need to get you ready girl it’s already six” she pushed you onto your shared vanity chair and pulled out all of your makeup and a few things of hers, “creative control?” she asked smirking at you “mm fine but not too much” you agreed “we’ll see” she giggled.

after around 30 minutes she finished your makeup and she showed you the finished product, looking at yourself in the mirror you thought how you never would’ve put on red lipstick yet you feel really good in it. she gave you a small smokey eye and a small winged liner and you felt you looked more aggressive then you were, but you kinda loved it.

“it’s so much but so pretty” you admired yourself and the makeup she put on you slowly getting used to the feeling of fake eyelashes on your eyes. “i’m so glad you love it, but we need to find an outfit like three hours ago” she joked and rushed to your closets “i actually have the perfect dress in mind if you’re feeling the want to rep slytherin green” she raised her eyebrows up at you in a suggestive matter “sure why not” you shrugged

she handed you a velvet body con forest green dress that you were sure was going to be extremely short and you mean in every place. she held it up onto you “this will be perfect. get it on come on” she rushed you into the bathroom and you began putting it on “this is sooo tight” you called out as you struggled “oh i forgot it was a corset back wait i need to help you can i come in” she yelled through the door

“yeah come on i need this thing one me already” you struggled more as she walked in and immediately began to help you loosening the strings of the dress and pulling it down onto you “there we go now suck in like your life depends on it” she said half jokingly and began retightening the corset back. with every pull it felt like your chest was spilling out more and more and your ribs were shrinking “okay merlin that’s enough before i can’t breathe” you huffed and she stopped tying it off in a bow

“stop you look so hot y/n i bet matt will be drooling” she teased and you just rolled your eyes “what do we do with my hair” you looked at her with horror as you only had ten minutes before he should arrive. you quickly began curling your hair not really caring if it was messy just giving it some body and just as you were spraying perfume on there was a knock on your door.

zarah looked at you and whispered “answer it go go now” she pointed to the door like she was afraid to touch it herself and you walked over opening it to see mattheo in an all black button down with the top few buttons undone and black dress looking pants yet somehow he didn’t look overdressed. he didn’t say anything for a minute he was just staring at you looking up and down in awe “holy fuck y/n who did your makeup you look woah” he put his finger on your chin moving your head around examining your makeup

“zarah isn’t it pretty” you smiled and he removed his hand and replied “yeah you are, now let’s go” he grabbed your hand and you looked behind you waving bye to zarah “he’s so in love with you” she whispered before the door slammed closed.

𓆙

once you got the the party you noticed there were already many slytherins already pregaming and mattheo brought you two to them, “let’s get some alcohol in you little puff” he winked and poured you a shot of who knows what, you smelled the foul drink and it made your nose burn “come on do ittt” he cheered on and you held your nose throwing the shot back gagging at the taste. “how do people enjoy that” you made a face at him “like this” he replied taking two shots himself, “now catch up” he winked pouring you yet another

“if i didn’t know any better id say you’re trying to get me drunk matt” you laughed and he looked at you amused “obviously that’s what im trying to do it’s a party” he put the shot glass to your lips and you parted them taking the burning substance down your throat, “eugh that didn’t get any better the second time” you shook your head in disgust. “hm, let me make you an actual drink” he grabbed a clear liquor and a red juice mixing them together adding more alcohol than your past two shots and handed it to you

“matt this smells foul” you looked up at him, “just try it trust me the slytherins have the masking drink down” he winked and you reluctantly took a sip, and to your surprise all you tasted was juice. after taking another few sips you quick began drinking it and mattheo pulled the cup from your lips “slow down there this shits dangerous you’ll get so drunk you won’t be able to walk straight” he chuckled. “it’s not my fault they made it taste like juice” you shrugged still sipping.

“hey mattheo have your little hufflepuff take some shots with us” enzo threw his arm around your shoulders and mattheo pushed them off almost immediately “no she doesn’t need any shots” he spoke “you didn’t even ask me” you protested, granted you didn’t necessarily want to take any shots you just didn’t like being talked for. “oo are you sure you’re not slytherin you got an attitude” enzo laughed handing you a shot and you looked at mattheo who rolled his eyes as you took the shot.

throwing the shot back the burning sensation took over your throat and you could feel it rushing down your throat. you coughed a bit and chugged your drink for comfort “puff you’re going to get shitfaced slow down” matt fully took your cup this time and you were already feeling it. giggling looking up at him “okay now who was going to tell me party’s are fun” you continued giggling.

the music started playing and the slytherin common room was now getting more and more packed. you saw fifth year students and up in here, even a few ravenclaw and hufflepuffs your recognized. to your surprise in the corner of the party you spotted cedric diggory talking to a group of girls holding a drink.

pansy noticed your head being stuck in a certain direction and followed your eyes “oh em gee, someone’s got their eyes on a certain hufflepuff” she winked shoving her shoulder at your “shhhhh he’s just nice to look at” you giggled at her and she giggled along “you two would be soo cute” she added dragging you back to the drinks

“let’s take some shots!” she exclaimed handing you two , you took them smiling and shot them back with her, a woo leaving her mouth. “here chaser, chaser!” she shouted handing you another drink this time what looked like a lot of the punch, downing it all she laughed “girl we’re gonna be gone”. looking around you were seeing doubles of everything but didn’t want the night to already end.

“so, are you a virgin?” pansy shouted over the music making your already alcohol flushed face even redder “pansy!! you can’t just ask that!!” you shouted back flustered at the intrusive question, “i’m only curious girl” she giggled and gave you begging eyes “come onnnn” she shook you till you gave in “fine yes i am but don’t tell anyone!” you replied back as lowly as you could over the music

“who would you lose it to?” she giggled “i lost mine to blaise hehe sshhhh” she winked, considering she just told you her secret you felt obligated and just looked around “i mean i guess cedric” you giggled as she pointed at him after your response. before she could say anything else you felt a pair of hands wrap around your waist and drag you off. trying to kick your way out was useless and they brought you to an empty dorm.

through all of this you couldn’t tell who it was kicking and screaming for them to let you go till you heard mattheos voice “puff calm down it’s just me” he sighed putting you down on what you now assumed was his bed “why did you bring me in here that was so scary” you huffed trying to gain your composure. “diggory?” he scoffed not answering your question.

you looked at him confused as to what he was on about “what do you mean? what about cedric” you cocked your head to the side in confusion “you lost your virginity to him??” he questioned stepping closer to you looking rather.. pissed. you just laughed in response “me? lose my virginity to cedric?.. you’re funny” yeah you fantasized about it but it certainly wouldn’t happen.

“what were you talking to pansy about then??” he looked at you unconvinced, “she asked if i lost it and i said no, but id let him take it.-“ you shrugged “besides you know i tell you everything matt i’ve never even had a boyfriend let alone a guy be interested in my virginity” you sighed laying back onto the bed now feeling upset.

you heard mattheo sigh and you picked your head up to look at him, his eyes stared back at you in silence before breaking it “believe me there’s a lot of guys who want to get in your pants” he rubbed his fists and you gave him a confused expression yet again “what are you on about matt?” you were getting sober just from all of this extra mystery.

he walked over to the bed sitting beside you, “listen when we met you were just.. blooming completely and i would be lying if i didn’t say i first went up to you because of your looks.. well overtime you know we became friends and i noticed other guys staring in ways they shouldn’t have been so i had to teach them a lesson.” he looked at you and yo didn’t know how to respond to something like that.

“what exactly are you saying matt?” you didnt understand what he was poking at, did matt mean to say he basically likes you? were you reading too much into this? “look y/n, no one else in this school fucking deserves you. hell i don’t deserve you but i know i can treat you how you need. don’t ask me what took so long to confess to you y/n, but do you feel even remotely the same?” he let it all out quick and fast, and your mouth dropped.

“you want.. me?” you looked at him in disbelief and he just smiled “that’s what that whole speech was about, yeah” he chuckled nervously awaiting your reply “why?” you sighed still slightly unconvinced “have you fucking seen yourself puff? you’re so undeniably gorgeous, i don’t know how i hold myself back from you everyday” he leaned in closer to you making this all seem more real. without thinking you allowed yourself to lean into him, faces and lips meeting for the most magical first kiss you could’ve ever imagined.

“you’re so fucking beautiful y/n” he grabbed your face pulling you closer to him till you straddled over his lap sitting down continuing the now makeout. “this is so much better than.. imagined” you huffed through the kisses. you could already feel mattheos member growing beneath you and you never thought you’d be the one experiencing this from your best friend.

you’d be lying if you didn’t admit to a fantasy or two about him in the past but this was already one thousand times better than ever imagined. mattheos lips kissed their way down your neck leaving small marks tiny moans leaving your mouth, “i need to hear more of that, y/n, let me eat you out.. please i need a taste” he continued his kisses along your neck bringing them back to your lips “i’ve never- mm yes” you replied as his fingers began making circles over your underwear.

“you sound so good fuck” he groaned pulling you off of him and getting off the bed, “you’re sure of this?” he questioned one last time and you just nodded impatiently awaiting his next move. next thing you knew he was yanking you to the edge of his bed and slowly removing your pants and underwear looking up at you from below. “holy fuck puff.. you’re fucking soaking” he breathed out over your pussy sending tingles down your spine.

without warning his mouth met your untouched area and you felt things never imaginable. his tongue made its way around your bulging clit, flicking it up and down and making his way to your entrance sucking and licking “you taste so good holy fuck” he huffed going right back in not even looking up at you, “can i put two fingers” he spoke from your pussy and you couldn’t even properly answer “mm y-yes” you replied between your moans.

you felt his slender fingers teasing your entrance and he slowly began inching one in and out teasingly, “mattheo-“ you huffed and he chuckled shoving both fingers in, loud moan escaping your mouth and this new feeling. he did a few different moments trying to figure out what makes you moan the most, soon his tongue was sucking expertly on your clit as his fingers twisters and curled inside of you.

“matt i want to.. try” you moaned at this pleasure wanting nothing more than to feel him inside of you now. “mm but you’re not ready yet puff” he continued devouring your pussy simply divulging in it as if he’d never eaten anything before. his pace on everything quickened and you were already near your own orgasm, “if you don’t s-stop i’m gonna cum” you moaned loudly trying to control yourself.

“let go for me sweetheart” he sucked harder on your clit, the nickname and action forcing your orgasm to flood over you harder than you’ve ever been able to make yourself experience. your body was shaking and you couldn’t hold your reactions back, mattheo slowly licked your gushing area clean before standing up “mm now i think you’ll be ready soon” he smirked leaning down over you, grabbing your chin and giving you a kiss.

[slytherinslut0]

SLYTHERINSLUT0’S KINKTOBER

october 15th. mattheo — brat taming / daddy kink.

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST. | 2024.

summary: play bratty games, win…uh, your boyfriends cum down your throat?

warnings: 18+, SMUT MDNI, glove kink, fingering under the table at a family dinner, dom!mattheo, denied orgasm, SLIGHT mutual masturbation, an absurd amount of dirty talk, daddy kink, ROAD HEAD (how tf does this man keep the car steady? idk), blowjob.

Malfoy Manor has always been stunning—the kind of stunning you've grown used to over the years of being with Mattheo, but that somehow still manages to take your breath away every time you step foot inside. It's perfect in a way that almost feels oppressive, the heavy weight of generational wealth clinging to everything.

The chandelier, the delicate flowers in the center of the table, even the soft scent of roses in the air—it's all so much. Too polished. Too grand.

You pick at your dinner, the taste lost on you.

On any other night, maybe you'd let the beauty sweep you up. But not tonight. Tonight, everything grates. The low hum of formal chatter, the fake, forced laughs that drift through the air—you hear it, sure, but you don't care. You can't care. You're too pissed off to care. It all sounds like nails on a chalkboard.

And the cause of your irritation? He's sitting right beside you, perfectly at ease. Mattheo's been charming the room for hours now, playing his part, all smooth smiles and well-placed comments. He was crafted for this. Moulded into it. He can waltz through these evenings like it's second nature, like he doesn't even have to try.

And that pisses you off too. Truthfully, everything about him tonight pisses you off.

But you sit there anyway, like the dutiful girlfriend you are, playing your role—smiling when you're supposed to, making small talk when you're supposed to—all while on the inside, irritation is bubbling, simmering just beneath your skin.

And maybe it's stupid—trivial—but you're mostly just mad that he dragged you here. Ignored your exhaustion. Dismissed it with that look of his, the one that said you'd survive, as if surviving was the same as being fine. And now, you're stuck in this perfectly orchestrated evening, playing a part you never wanted.

And you'd almost hate him for it—if it weren't for those fucking gloves.

Leather, black, soft and sleek. They move with him, something that masks his ruggedness and makes him almost look presentable—graceful—hiding cut knuckles and the strength within them as he picks up his glass, adjusts the napkin in his lap, brushing his fork like it's nothing.

You almost scowl in frustration of it all. Who the fuck let him wear those? You've been staring at them all night. You don't even want to, but it's like they've trapped your attention, pulled you in without asking.

You're mad at him. The gloves don't change that. But they do something. They make everything harder.

And still, you fight it.

It starts small. The attitude. A quiet, sharp kind of rebellion that only he'd catch onto. Your fingers tap your glass a little too hard when you set it down. Your words come out flat when he leans over to make some passing comment. You give him clipped responses, not looking at him, not giving him what he wants. You can feel the brittle edge of your smile, and you know he can too.

Mattheo notices everything. He always does.

After a while of this, a gloved hand slips under the table, brushing your knee.

A question without words; what are you doing?

You don't react. Not at first. You just shift your foot, barely nudging his ankle, pushing back in the smallest way. He tightens his grip on your knee—a warning, a silent conversation between the two of you, invisible to everyone else at the table.

"Dinner's been nice," he's prodding, testing, his voice smooth as ever. "Wouldn't you agree?"

You feel him watching, feel the weight of his gaze as he picks you apart, dissecting your mood. He knows you too well for this. You finally meet his eyes, and for a second, the room fades into the background. Just him and that damn hand on your knee, the soft leather brushing your skin in a way that makes your pulse stumble.

You try to shake it off, shrug it away like it's nothing.

"Hmm," you hum, pretending you're not affected. Your fingers tap your plate, and your eyes drift again—down to his other hand, resting on the table, playing with the edge of his glass. "I suppose."

His brow arches, just enough for you to catch it—another challenge posed to your audacity. He knows exactly what you're doing—you can see it in the way his lips twitch, the faintest hint of amusement. He's letting you play your game, but you know he's already winning.

"You're mad at me." His voice is low, slipping beneath the hum of dinner conversation.

You blink, keeping your gaze trained on the flicker of candlelight rather than him. It's not a question, not even a statement—he says it like a fact, just a certainty, a declaration dripping in the smugness that comes so naturally to him. And that pisses you off even more.

He’s always too goddamn sure about everything.

"Mm, no." You lift your glass, cool rim kissing your lips as you take a slow, languid sip, the taste biting your tongue. You let it hide the smirk threatening your face. "Nothing to be mad about."

His hand shifts higher, fingers tightening just enough to remind you he's there—dipping into your skin, the silent warning you can feel vibrating up your spine. You should be used to this by now, should be used to the way he takes you apart—but you aren't. How could you ever get used to this?

"Uh huh." He's not buying it. He never does.

His eyes flicker around the room, yours follow, mirroring his movements in a habit you loathe as you let him have that win. Everyone's busy—forks clinking, soft laughter bubbling up like champagne, far enough away to give him the nerve to push you harder. Your breath catches when you glance at his free hand again—black leather tapping idly against the tablecloth like it's got all the time in the world.

Gods, what's wrong with you tonight?

When had his gloves become the focus of your desire? They're just fucking gloves. Stupid, soft leather molding perfectly to those big hands—you’re chewing your lip without realizing it, and his eyes catch yours before you can look away—

Fuck.

"You keep staring at my hands," he's leaning in again, and your pulse skips, trips over itself like it's running from something. "Got something you'd like to say?"

The pit of your stomach tightens, twisting with a familiar dread, a sick kind of anticipation. Of course, he's noticed. The bastard catches everything. Nothing slides under his radar—not when it comes to breaking your attitude.

He likes to say he was born to tame brats—and you, of all people, make him prove it. Sometimes you hate him for it. Most times you don't.

"No, actually." You shift in your seat, trying to shake his hand off your knee, but he's relentless—doesn't budge, doesn't even flinch. "I don't."

Christ. His grip is ironclad, like those gloves were made for this kind of hold. For making you feel every fucking inch of them. You exhale as you gather yourself—you hate him tonight, hate him for dragging you here, for dismissing you so easily—and you want to let him know it. Want him to feel it.

"No?" His fingers slip higher. You glance down the length of the table, nausea curling at the edges of your vision when you spot Lucius' blond head gleaming under the chandelier. Mattheo's voice is low, just for you. "Nothing at all?"

"Mattheo." Your voice is a hiss now, strained, your composure hanging by a thread. You want to slap the smug look off his face, but you don't. You can't. "Leave me alone, okay? I'm here. For you. I'm not happy about it, but I'm here. Just let me be. You're being—"

He cuts you off with a tilt of his head, jaw clenching at the exact moment his hand slides further up your thigh.

Your words catch in your throat, suffocate on themselves, die there.

"Maybe you're being a brat because you want me to choke you, huh?" The words land heavy, like an accusation, but worse because it isn't a question. He knows. "Maybe that's why you keep staring at my hands?"

Your body goes hot—alive in ways it hasn't been all night. The room erupts into laughter, some joke you missed, but it only heightens the tension wrapping tight around the two of you. His fingertips are teasing dangerously close to where they shouldn't be, and you're suddenly very thankful for the tablecloth draped over your lap—

"No." The word slips from your lips, barely a breath, lacking conviction. "No, I—"

"A brat and a liar," he hums, not letting you finish. He's enjoying this now. "You're really racking up the bad decisions tonight."

Salazar save you—his fingers slip higher still, and you clamp your thighs shut, a last-ditch effort to keep him from pushing this into dangerous territory. He responds by hooking a foot around yours to spread you back open—you bite your lip so hard it hurts.

"Maybe I'm just annoyed because I had better plans for my evening," you can't let him win so you spit the words out, voice quiet, hoping he doesn't catch the tremor in it. “Not that you care.”

You don't look at him. You can't. More laughter fills the room. Drowns out the shake in your breath.

He huffs, wine breath brushing your ear. "Keep this up and you may just end up with the evening you deserve."

"And what evening is that?" You spit back, ignoring the way the leather sticks to the heat of your thigh. "The one where I'm stuck here, listening to Draco prattle on about his latest Quidditch practice? Or perhaps another mind-numbing dinner, this time with Dumbledore and friends?"

The flicker of irritation in his eyes is subtle, but you see it. Oh, he's seething now. Dread pools, thick like syrup. You drop your eyes to the table.

"Oh no, not even close," if anger was a voice, it'd be his. Right now, in your ear. "I was thinking more of the one where I keep you cuffed to the bed all night. How does that one sound?"

Your pulse hammers, too fast, too loud—you can feel everything—the candlelight burning your skin, the way the chandelier's glow twinkles overhead, the way his hand is still, still so high on your fucking leg.

No one at the table notices. No one cares. But the feeling is crushing you, pulling you deeper into this private hell of his creation.

"You lost the chance for that when you brought me here," you bite out, hand darting under the table to try and pry his fingers off your thigh.

But his grip only tightens, his foot hooking tighter around yours, keeping you in place. He's relentless. And you hate it. You hate how much you don't want him to stop.

"If you're going to act like a brat, just say so," he growls, his voice a low rumble, "you know I'll deal with you later."

You roll your eyes. "Promises, promises."

You can't help it. You're baiting him now, pushing him just as hard as he's pushing you. The inevitable looms over you, and you know you've already lost. He's not budging. He never does. And you know—God, you know—you're in for it.

If this is the hell of his creation, you were the muse.

"More than a promise," his patience is gone, you can feel it. You wonder just how close you are to him dragging you from the room by your hair, not caring who sees. "Count your blessings."

“Oh, I'm counting."

And with that, you reach for your wine glass again, taking another slow, deliberate sip, letting the bitter liquid slide down your throat—you're oblivious, don't even notice the line you've crossed until it's too late—

His hand moves fast, leather fingers slipping past the last scrap of dignity you were clinging to. You choke on the wine you'd barely had the chance to swallow, the world tipping, spinning, crumbling as his thick, gloved finger glides through your slick folds, sinking into your cunt without a moments hesitation. You hadn't worn panties tonight—a decision that felt normal in the beginning but now screams of poor foresight—but there's no time for regret.

Not now, not with your boyfriend fingering you under the table at a family fucking dinner.

"Quiet, brat," he mutters, eyes twinkling as you cover your mouth, still half-choking on your drink. "Keep making sounds and someone is going to notice.”

Your heart skips, the pulse between your legs responding to the threat, clenching involuntarily around him. You're soaked, the heat of it spreads shame across your cheeks, burning like wildfire in your veins. Why are you this wet? This shouldn't turn you on—it's humiliating, degrading—

"Then maybe don't make me make sounds," you hiss, gripping the table so hard you think the wood might crack. "This is on you—"

He cuts you off, slipping a second finger into your cunt—and the sentence dies in your throat, swallowed by a sharp whimper you disguise as another cough.

"I said quiet." His voice is thin, dangerous. His fingers slide deeper, knuckle deep, and the heat threatens to tear you apart. "Bite your tongue or so help me—"

You bite down, but on your lip instead, trying to school your expression into something neutral, something that won't betray the war raging inside you. You two haven't fucked in days—you're more sensitive than usual—and this forbidden thrill only makes it worse, heightening every nerve, every pulse, as his fingers move in slow, deliberate thrusts inside you.

"You can’t," you breathe, the words coming out weak, a poor imitation of protest.  "Mattheo—"

"Shhh," he replies, voice low, a quiet storm gathering in the pit of your stomach. He leans closer, his breath hot against your neck. "Keep your sounds for later."

You snuff a groan, mind racing a million miles a minute—eyes darting around the table in a panic, scanning the faces for any sign that someone might notice. But no one does. The conversation moves on, unaware, the oblivious hum of normalcy in stark contrast to the chaos brewing beneath your skin.

This is crazy. It’s crazy in a way that only Mattheo Riddle could manage and you’re so fucking lost in it you don’t ever want it to stop.

He's not even looking at you anymore, fingers moving steadily, thumb brushing over your clit with the kind of casual cruelty that makes your body shudder. He's laughing, speaking to Draco as though he's not knuckle-deep inside you. The audacity of it makes your head spin. You're teetering on the edge—so close, dangerously close—and if you fall now, if you let go, you'll be too loud—you won't be able to stop yourself—

"Mattheo—please," you whisper, your voice trembling, barely holding on. His thumb rolls over your clit again, teasing, torturing. "You're gonna make me—"

"Yeah," he hardly looks at you. "I am." He crooks his fingers, pumping in slow, agonizing drags that send your brain spiraling into static. "Gonna make you lose the attitude. Gonna make you be good.”

Oh, you loathe him right now, deliciously. "Matt—"

"And you’re going to take it, like it’s not killing you." He continues—leaning in slightly now, examining the way your breath is coming in shallow, broken gasps. “Just like I’ve had to take seeing you in that dress…and pretend it hasn’t been killing me.”

Your eyes flicker around the table again, still desperate for any sign that someone might notice, just to give him a reason to stop—but the conversation continues, oblivious. The leather of his gloves is slick with you now, a wet sound breaking through the steady hum of voices with every movement of his hand.

You part your lips to hiss another pathetic plea—a warning to stop before you explode—but he cuts you off—

“One more word and I'll make sure not a single person at this table leaves without hearing you scream.” He pulls his fingers out nice and slow, rubbing some of the wetness down your thigh before he moves back and pushes back in. “Do you want that?"

You shoot him a glare, but shake your head nonetheless.

"Didn't think so," he mutters, his voice dropping even lower, fingers working deeper, faster. "Look at them," he hisses in your ear, and your gaze flicks over the table again. "They don't even care. Too caught up in their own bullshit to notice, aren't they? But I see you. I see how flushed your chest is—" his thumb presses harder, sending a shockwave through you—"I know what that means."

"I'm not—" your thighs tremble, you’re denying it as though you have any power to stop it. He’s just too goddamn good at this. "I'm not going to—"

"You are," he whispers, and you almost let your eyes roll. "I can feel you soaking my hand. Little cunt is begging me to finish this, isn't it?" His fingers thrust deep, hitting a spot that makes you work to choke down a sob. "You and that fucking attitude can deny it all you want, but I feel how close you are.”

The room erupts into laughter, a sudden burst of noise that pulls all eyes to the other end of the table. Your breath comes out in a trembling exhale, letting out a whimper you know won’t be heard over the commotion—the distraction your only saving grace as you fight to keep still, to keep from rocking against his hand and giving him what he wants.

You lean into him, pleading. "Mattheo, please—if you don't stop, I'll—"

"You poor thing," he hums, his thumb circling slower now, torturously precise. "Sounds like a you problem, princess. Shouldn't have been such a brat tonight."

"I'm sorry," you choke out, words barely coherent but you see the flash in your boyfriend’s eyes. It’s the two words he’s been looking for all night. "Please, just—"

And then—his fingers slip out of you. As abrupt as a cold bucket of water over your head.

You blink, almost gasping at the loss, just as the table erupts into another fit of laughter and you're left aching, disoriented, while everyone begins to stand. Merlin help you—dinners over and you had no goddamn idea. You feel like a robot moving in slow motion as you watch Mattheo wipe his slick fingers off on his thigh, smirking. The room is a blur of goodbyes and handshakes, and before you can even catch your breath, he's got you by the wrist, pulling you away from the scene, dragging you out to the car.

The passenger door of his blacked-out Audi flies open, and you're urged inside, your legs trembling, the evidence of everything he's done to you still slick between your thighs. The leather seats beneath you remind you all too well of the feel of his gloves, of the fingers that had just been inside you, and your cunt clenches at the thought, still throbbing with unfulfilled need. Mattheo slides into the driver's seat, a silent inferno of fury, not sparing you a glance as he throws the car into drive, tearing out of the Malfoy estate.

His leather-gloved hand rests on the stick shift, and you stare at it, unable to look away.

"You're staring again," he breaks the tension, his voice tight.

"Yes." This time, you don't even bother denying it. Not after what he'd done. He’d long tamed your attitude. You can’t fight it anymore. “I am.”

His chest rises sharply, his grip on the gear shift tightening. You bite your lip, feeling your core throb painfully in response.

"Learned your lesson, I hope," he mutters, eyes focused on the dark road in front of you.

"I suppose," you murmur, still breathless. The wetness between your thighs is impossible to ignore, and so you reach for his hand—tracing your fingertips over the smooth leather before curling your fingers around two of his, stroking them. "I suppose I learned something."

His breath catches when you jerk his fingers, and he sucks in a shallow breath of air through his teeth. You clench at the sound of it. Oh, how you goddamn love being a little tease.

"Mm." His voice is gravel, rough and uneven—you notice the bulge in his pants, his cock straining against the expensive fabric. "You want to cum, don't you?"

You nod, your fingers still stroking his. "Yes."

"Yes?" His voice lowers, a prompt you recognize all too well.

"Yes, Mattheo—daddy—" you correct yourself, your breath hitching. God, you’ve been here so many times with him. You know what he’s looking for. "I want to cum."

His jaw tightens, and he wets his lips. "You want my cock. You need it."

"Yes, daddy," you repeat, the words spilling out easily, exactly what he wants to hear, and exactly what you want to say. "I want your cock. I need it."

"Then finish yourself off," he growls, his gaze flicking toward you for a brief moment, his eyes blazing. "Make your filthy little cunt cum, and if you’re a good girl, I'll let you suck me off."

The command sends an insatiable fucking thrill through you, and without a second thought, you move to obey him—night air biting your skin as you shift your dress up and your fingers find the slick mess between your thighs. A long, long over-suppressed moan escapes you the moment your fingers graze your clit, and Mattheo‘a eyes flash over, jaw working as he watches for a split second before focusing back on the road.

"Fuck," you groan as you push two fingers into your soaked cunt, your head falling back against the seat, back arching. "Oh, fuck—"

"That's it," he murmurs, free hand moving from the gear shift to palm his erection through his pants. You swear you hear him moan. "You wish it was me, don't you? Wish it was my cock inside you."

"Yes, daddy, I do," you whimper, your hips rocking against your hand, fingers fucking deeper into your pussy, lewd sounds filling the steamed space within the car. "I wish it was your cock…inside me."

"Fucking brat with a dirty mouth," he hisses, his fingers working at his belt, eyes darting between the road and you. "Cum for me. Show me how you’re good for me.”

You groan, unable to believe how fucking wet you are, slick coating your hand and thighs, dripping all over your boyfriends expensive leather seat—Gods, you’re so close, the edge that he'd left you teetering on earlier now drawing closer with full force. You add another finger, curling them against your throbbing walls, and Mattheo's breath stutters, his focus wavering as he watches you unravel.

"Look at you. So fucking shameless." His hand slips inside his pants, and he starts stroking himself, his cock already leaking. "I bet you wish I’d pull this car over right now, huh? Fuck you like you deserve to be fucked.”

You moan at how goddamn wrecked he sounds—forcing a smirk through your open mouth, words coming out shaky. "And how do I—ah—how do I deserve to be fucked, daddy?"

The car jerks, just slightly, Mattheo groans.

"Like the nasty little slut you are," his eyes flash to you again, his grip tightening on his cock, pumping faster. "Until you forget how to talk. Until you can't say anything but my fucking name."

Your world spins, orgasm roaring in. "Mattheo—daddy—oh fuck—"

"Earn it," he snarls, his voice raw. "Earn my cock."

One, two more deep pumps into your cunt and you erupt, finally—body seizing, orgasm crashing over you with violent force, leaving you gasping, your back arching off the seat as your wanton moans fill the steamy car. Mattheo watches you through hooded eyes, stroking his cock faster as you whimper and moan his name, orgasm intensified due to him edging you all through dinner—somehow managing to keep the car steady throughout all of this.

Part of you wonders if he’s charmed it.

"Good fucking girl—there we go," he purrs, and his hand reaches over, seizes the back of your head, urging you toward his lap. "Now take your reward."

You’re buzzing—breaths scattered, but there’s no hesitation, no argument. You shift to your knees on his seat, your mouth watering as you wrap a hand around the base of him, tongue teasing the tip before his hand in your hair directs you deeper—lips wrapping around his throbbing cock as he slides into your mouth, hot and heavy. He groans, his hips thrusting forward, just barely, and you gag slightly as he hits the back of your throat.

"Fuck, that's it," he grunts, his voice low and strained. "This is what you wanted, isn't it? To be choked on my cock. To be shut up like this."

You can't answer, your mouth too full of him as he directs your head to bob along him, as he thrusts into you, each movement deeper, harder. Tears prick your eyes, but you don't stop, your hands gripping his thighs as you suck him down, hollowing your cheeks and drooling.

"Fuck—yeah, that’s it. Choke on it," he snarls, other hand keeping the car impossibly steady. "Wanna see those tears, baby. Wanna hear you gagging on it."

You moan around him at those words, the heat of them shooting straight to your still-soaked cunt, tears spilling from your eyes as his hips buck up, slamming the back of your throat. Mattheo is the most impatient man you’ve known, and it shows in moments like this, when he’s sick of your attitude—when he drops the seat back, one hand in your hair and the other gripping the wheel, his knee keeping it steady as he thrusts deep into your throat. You’re gagging and moaning, working your tongue along the length of him, until with a final grunt, he spills into your mouth and you swallow every drop, his shaking breaths and gutted groans filling the car as he rides out his release.

"Fuck. That’s my girl. My good fuckin’ girl," he pants, his voice rough with satisfaction as he releases you, your lips swollen and wet as you slump back in your seat. "You earned that."

You know you did.