#brother!draco

[colmiillo]

me acting like I just didn't read the most filthy nasty hot smut fic of my life

[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.

[deadghosy]

slytherin boys react to aibling reader clinging onto them,not wanting them to leave after they come home from holidays and sibling literally not letting them go? Like clinging onto their legs,arms,body

HOW THE SLYTHERIN BOYS REACT TO LITTLE SIBLING! READER CLING TO THEM:

I appreciate reblogs, comments, and such as likes.

Ft. The riddles, Draco malfoy, Theodore Nott, Lorenzo Berkshire

A/N: in this, the boys have a normal family, no evil shit 😕 just pure sibling and family love

Tom Riddle

The moment you clinged to him with teary eyes, his face structure softened and picked you up.

“Nonono! DONT leave me!” You said as Tom kissed your head. Tom honestly felt his cold heart melt, the way your eyes tear up made him want to stay longer. But he needs to go back so he can graduate.

“Sweetheart, I promise when I graduate or when a next holiday comes. I’ll show up again.” You sniffled into his chest. “Promise?” “Promise.”

As you watched Tom leave with tears in your eyes still, Tom felt guilty. He loved his little sibling. But the way you cried.

Broke his heart.

Mattheo Riddle

PLEASE DONT…he’s gonna cry. Like literally internally he’s clawing the floor and gripping his hair to not cry while his inner demons want to kidnap you and bring you to Hogwarts with you.

He knows he can’t bring a non-student to Hogwarts. It’s against the rules. But he may break it just for you. As he sees your clinging to his shirt, crying with those soft baby doe eyes. His heart is clenching.

“Mom can I bring them…” immediately your mom says no as mattheo roll his eyes.

When he got to Hogwarts, this bastard already made a plan. He’s gonna kidnap you, make a small little bed and a small bathroom for you. And boom! Bring in extra food from the great hall!

It’s perfect isn’t it..

Draco Malfoy

“Father, I’m taking Y/N with me.” He says with a serious face as you had teared up a bit after he said he was going back to Hogwarts.

Your brother spoils you well, and you love him for that. But you love him for himself more which makes Draco feel even better about.

Your father just rolls his eyes. Which is a simple no. And Draco just sighs. Jokingly telling you he will take you away anyways

Which was actually 50/50 percent a joke cause he actually did show up only to get grounded😭

But he does love you!

Theodore Nott

“NON VOGLIO CHE TU MI LASCI!!” (I don’t want you to leave me!!)

You cried out clinging to his arm. He had visited Italy only to not try and just take you with him. But he knew he can’t as he knee down and hold your tiny hands.

“Ascolta, tornerò, va bene? Forse puoi venire a trovarmi probabilmente. Ma ti amo e ho bisogno che tu rimanga forte per me okay?” (Listen, I’m gonna come back okay? Maybe you can come visit me probably. But I love you and i need you to stay strong for me)

“Ok…” you said in sniffles. You then hugged theo who had a small smile on his face. Kissing your head and forehead as he leaves.

He does send you small letters and gifts he find that you will like.

He loves you dearly

Lorenzo Berkshire

Will cry as well like mattheo. This big brother is gonna send you notes about what his daily life is like as a Slytherin in Hogwarts

So when you get sorted into his house or any other, he doesn’t want you to get nervous when it’s your first time in Hogwarts.

The way you cringed to his leg as you cried for him to not leave you. He immediately dropped to his knees and cried with you.

Leaving your parents to try and separate you both. Your eyes puffy as his nose is slightly runny.

The sibling love is strong as he kisses your head and wishes you goodbye.

He cries a little arriving back to Hogwarts, but he wants to be seen as your strong older brother who can protect you no matter what.

[myfavcharacterdidntdrown]

Draco at the Potters for dinner

James: Draco, we’re so happy to have you here

Draco: Thank you Mr. Potter

Sirius: *constantly judging Draco*

Remus: Oh come on Sirius. Aren’t you happy that Harry got a boyfriend?

Sirius: Harry, you know that he’s your second cousin right?

Regulus: Well at least he’s following the family tradition

Remus: *spits out his tea*

James: wtf just happened…

*Harry and Draco totally traumatised*

[eunoiaflow3r]

it’s you - draco malfoy x reader

(brothers best friend)

requests open

warning(s): language, smut, unedited

word count: 3.7k

request(ed): no

summary: draco is your brother’s best friend. what happens when he can’t stay away anymore?

characters are 17+ (no war).

————————————————————————————

You’re completely convinced that you’ve never been more bored in your life. You’ve spent the last twenty minutes racking your brain trying to remember a time you’ve been more bored than you are right now, and to your luck, you can’t find a single instance. For the past two hours, you’ve been sitting idly by, twiddling your thumbs while you watched your brother and his friends participate in various activities involving drinking and hollering. The scenery was nice - they’re by the lake and have a little bonfire going, but you were hungry and tired. Your brother Caleb dragged you out here because he convinced you it would be fun, but you’re regretting more and more having ever agreed. You told him you wanted to go back to the castle but he didn’t trust you to make it back alone without getting everyone caught.

So now you were sitting here miserable. Before you could wallow any further, someone joined you at your side. You turned. Draco Malfoy. Of course. He was your brother’s best friend and your biggest pain in the side. Your brother and him have been friends for yours and you’ve never particularly cared for him. He was rude, snotty, and a know-it-all. He thinks he’s always right and when he isn’t he’s a baby about it. Granted, he has matured over the years but your distaste for him hasn’t.

“Y/N.” He says as he stands above you. His hair is messy and he smells like mint and alcohol. His cheeks are brushed pink and he has a slight smile adorning his flushed face.

“Malfoy.” You return. The moon shines behind him and for some reason, In this light, he doesn’t look half bad. Ew. What are you thinking?

“I’ve noticed you looking pretty lonely and bored over here maybe it’s time for you to find some friends.”

You roll your eyes. “I have friends. They just don’t have brothers who force them out of bed in the middle of the night.”

“Hmmm.” He stays silent for a moment. Like he’s contemplating something. “Well, I can take you to bed if you want.”

Your eyes widen. Wait. He didn’t mean it that way. Why did your mind automatically go the other way? It’s like he could sense what you were thinking because he chuckled lightly.

“Not like that. You’re a baby and your brother would have a conundrum.”

You roll your eyes. You were not a baby. Only one year younger. “Fine.”

“Alright let me go find him.”

You watched as he walked in the direction of your brother who was laughing and swinging someone’s jacket around. They talked for a few moments and eventually, your brother made eye contact with you and nodded in your direction - bidding you goodnight.

After grabbing his things, Draco headed back over towards you.

“Alright, Cinny let’s get going.”

Cinny was a nickname Draco gave you a while ago. Back when you were kids your parents arranged play dates for Draco and your brother. Your mom had cooked cinnamon rolls and you begged and pleaded for the last one but she had already promised it to Draco and couldn’t take back her promise. From then on, Draco teased you about how he got it and proceeded to call you Cinny.

You remember going to bed sad but when you woke up the next day there was a fresh one waiting for you on your nightstand. That was only the beginning of your little grudge against Draco.

“How often do I have to tell you to stop calling me that?”

Draco rolls his eyes and leads you through the trees to a clearing towards the castle. Once you got to the edge, Draco found an opening to the inside all the while urging you to stay quiet. You did but you didn’t want to just to spite him. Once you made it inside the castle Draco insisted on walking you to your room. He said your brother would kill him and you if you were caught and snitched on them.

You agreed because he was right but that didn’t mean you would like it.

You hated walking around Hogwarts at night. Everything bad that’s ever happened at Hogwarts has always been at night and you didn’t want to be the next witch it happened to. 

“Shit.” You hear Draco whisper.

“What?” You ask.

Draco nods for you to look straight ahead and about 20 feet ahead of you coming around the corner, wand raised. Undoubtedly Filch waiting to catch unsuspecting students. And you’d be next. Fuck.

Draco grabs your hand, turns you around, and pulls you forward. You wanted to pull your hand away but knew it wasn’t the right time. Draco pulled you to turn the corner and before you knew it you were pushed into the equivalent of a broom closet..except you’ve never seen this door or this closet before.

“Draco what is this?”

“Shhh!”  He whispers.

There was no room to move. You and Draco were pushed together and his ear was against the door listening. He muttered a spell to lock the door and urged you to stay quiet. All you could hear was the beating of your heart through your ears and each of you trying to calm yourselves down after having to run. 

Once a few moments passed you finally realized the position you were in. When he pushed you in you had managed to turn around as now you were pressed against him - face to his chest. Your hands are pressed against his stomach to try and keep some space between you - yet for some reason you were wondering what it felt like to close the gap.

He looked down at you and you watched as he brought his hand up to move your hair away from your face. For some reason, you couldn’t even find the words to stop him. You weren’t even sure if you wanted to.

You watched as he licked his lips and ran his other hand through his hair - making it even messier than it was before. He turned away.

“Come on let’s go.”

He unlocked the door and led the way to your room. For some reason, the air felt colder. It’s like his mood shift caused the whole environment to change. Was he going to kiss you? Was he thinking about kissing you? Were you thinking about kissing him?

After he dropped you off at your room you fell asleep almost instantly…the last thing on your brain was Draco Malfoy.

-

The next morning was rough. Your brother Caleb was hungover so he was being more irritable than usual. Luckily, he had ordered some sort of cure from Fred and George’s store but it hasn’t kicked in yet. The cure wasn’t exactly for sale - it was more so one of the things they’re experimenting with on the side. 

At breakfast, your friend Hanna was talking to you about the potions final coming up soon but all you could think about was Malfoy. The way the two of you were pressed against each other in that closet had you thinking of things that never really crossed your mind before. He was an ass. And your brother’s best friend. So now why all of a sudden do you feel the urge to know what his lips feel like against yours?

As you were leaving the dining area you noticed Draco walk in with some Slytherin girl Katherine. The two of you made eye contact but then your brother barreled past you and slung his arm across Malfoy’s shoulders. For some reason, your chest began to tighten.

-

“Y/N!”  Hanna yells.

That jolts you up. “Huh?”

“What on earth are you daydreaming about that you couldn’t hear the biggest news I’ve had to tell in a while!”

You both were in herbology and you must have zoned out. Distracted with thoughts of Draco and that girl. But you wouldn’t tell Hanna that. From now on, you would push them and him out of your mind. What were you thinking anyway? Developing a crush on Draco Malfoy! Ugh, no.

“Sorry, sorry. What’s the news?”

Hanna gave you a look and rolled her eyes but continued anyway. “Lillian heard from Ella who heard from Dina who heard from Neville who heard from Ginny that Ron was going to ask you to the formal!”

Your eyes widen. “What?” 

“Yes!”

You and Ron were good friends. Despite your brothers’ proximity to Draco and his grudges - you never let it intervene with you. Those were his problems, not yours. So when you were in your second year and Ron was in his third and he needed help studying for a class you were good at (Hermione was busy) you couldn’t help but want to help and be his friend. From then on you remained close with him and had a good relationship with his friends as well. 

So hearing this…you weren’t exactly against it. You just don’t know if you could see Ron as anything other than a friend. Luckily, you wouldn’t have to.

“Y/n!”

Ron caught up with you in the Dining Hall right as you were about to sit down for dinner.

“You, me, the formal..and I know what you’re thinking and yes I like you but not like that - I just need to get back at Hermione,” He kept going before you could even get a word in. “She told me that I could never willingly get anyone to go with me. That it would just be a repeat of the fourth year. So please go with me to prove her wrong and make her jealous.”

The face he was making was so unbelievable that you couldn’t help but laugh.

“What’s in it for me Weasley?” You ask. 

“Oh c’mon don’t tell me you don’t have anyone you’d like to make jealous.”

For some reason, your eyes immediately shifted towards Draco. It was for a quick second but Ron immediately caught. All the other times he’s as dense as a rock but now’s the time he wants to pay attention. Of course.

“Y/n you can’t be serious.”

You blush and look down. “Of course not. I was merely looking around y’know….the scenery….”

There was a moment of silence.

“Y/n.” He paused. “I hope you know what you’re doing. What you’re wanting to get yourself into. But, I promise we’re gonna have fun at that dance. Alright?”

You nod. “Alright. And buy some robes this time. Please none from your mother.”

“Yeah yeah.” He rolls his eyes and gets up to meet with his friends but not before parting with a hug.

-

Before you could make your way into the common room you felt a strong force pull you away.

“Hey! What the fu-“

“So Ron Weasley?” 

You look up and that song force who still had his hands wrapped around your arm was Draco Malfoy.

You tug your arm away.

“Wow, word travels fast. What’s it to you?”

He walks down the hall further so that you’re out of eye-line from other people. You follow close behind.

“You’re my best mates sister you don’t think it’d matter to me?”

You cross your arms. 

“Why now all of a sudden? Didn’t seem to matter when I was with Daniel…or Gregory.”

You watched as his eyes darkened and his jaw clenched. Daniel and Gregory were both brief situations you had long ago. They didn’t end badly or anything they just weren’t the one for you.

You felt him breathe slowly.

“It’s a Weasley. And does your brother know about this?”

“I don’t give a flying fuck if he does Draco. This is my life. And you can calm down with this whole overprotective bodyguard cosplay. It’s not necessary nor do I need it. Plus you know you’re one to talk I -“

But before you could finish he was grabbing your face and kissing you like his life depended on it. His fingers are slender and cold against your face but it was a feeling you began to crave as he pulled you closer to him. He pushed you around so that you were pushed against the wall and one of his hands was on the side of your face while the other was wrapped around your waist. You nearly moaned into his mouth the way his tongue was dancing against yours. 

When he pulled away you found it difficult to catch your breath.

“Draco…” you began to say.

But he cut you off. “Goodnight Y/N.”

_

You went to sleep even more confused. What is going on? This hot and coldness coming from him is messing up your emotions. What did he want? What did you want? What would your brother think? He would probably have a fit.

“Y/N? What’s wrong?” Hanna walked side by side with you as you headed to your first class of the day.

“Nothing.”

“You know you’ve been distracted lately. Is this about Ron?”

“It’s not like that with Ron. We’re just friends.”

“Well, it’s like that with someone. Only someone in deep turmoil about a boy makes the faces you’re making.”

You roll your eyes and distract her by bringing up your dresses for the formal. It seemed to work as now she was rambling about whether purple or pink would bring out the color of her eyes more and if there was a chance she could go with this guy she’d been eyeing named Terry.

When you got out of class your brother was waiting for you.

“So what’s this I hear about Weasley?”

You roll your eyes. “He’s just a friend.”

“A friend who’s taking you to a dance. Yeah very likely.”

“I’m serious.”

“Fine. But I better not see any hands. And have you seen Draco?”

You perked up at this - more than you meant to. “No, why would I have seen him?”

Your brother shrugs. “I don’t know. Just around. He’s been acting weird these past couple of days just distant and short with me.”

You wondered if that had anything to do with you. 

-

The dance came faster than you knew. You were in the middle of getting ready with Hanaa and she was helping you fix your hair. She had curled it in a way that made it fall effortlessly down your back. You looked and felt beautiful. You only hoped that Draco would feel the same.

Like she wanted, Terry asked Hanna to the dance. They looked really good together. You, Ron, Hanaa, and Terry all made your way to the dance together. Ron led you over to where Harry and Ginny were but you knew his eyes were searching for Hermione’s just as yours were searching for Draco’s. You didn’t see him anywhere. Ron n led you to the dance floor and you danced together and you almost forgot all of your feelings for a moment. You let the music distract you, and you let Ron’s jokes keep you laughing.

You and Ron were in a rhythm until you felt a hand on your shoulder. You turned to see Draco dressed and smiling down at you. He was in black from head to toe and looked amazing. You blushed and looked at Ron. He didn’t look amused. 

“Care to dance?”

You looked at Ron again and he shrugged. You nodded and took Draco’s hand. He walked you a certain distance away and you could feel Ron and his friends’ eyes on you. Luckily you didn’t care all too much. 

You put your hands around his neck while he wraps his arms around your waist.

“You look beautiful in red Y/n.”

“Thank you. You look nice as well.”

He stays silent. Like he’s searching for words. 

“What’s going with us Draco?” you ask, searching for his eyes. He finds yours and you never want to look anywhere else.

“I don’t know Y/n..but seeing you here with Weasley..and your brother I -”

“So you only noticed me because you thought I was with someone else?”

“No.”

“Then what is it then? Why all of a sudden? Why are you acting like this?”

“Cinny, your brother -”

“It’s not about my brother Draco. It’s about me. What about me?”

You dropped your hands and pulled away from him. You didn’t want to be near him anymore. You didn’t want to be near anyone anymore. How could he make you feel the things you were feeling but not be able to own up to them? Not be able to stand up for you? How could he not know what he wants?

You found yourself leaving the ball area and wandering down the halls until you found a place to sit and think. You understood his gestation. He didn’t want to hurt your brother. Probably didn’t want to lose his friendship either. But how could he look at you the way he does and not want to do something about it? How could he kiss you like that and not want more?”

You looked up when you heard footsteps coming toward you. It was him. You rolled your eyes.

You stood up. “Draco go away. Find me when you know what you want.”

“I know what I want.”

And his lips were on yours again. Just like that, all the passion and the hotness - right there again. His lips against yours were the warmest, softest thing you’ve ever felt. And you didn’t want to stop feeling it. His hand found your ass and gripped it. He moaned into your mouth when your tongue found his. You wanted to ask so many questions but you didn’t care about any of it right now. All you wanted was him -against you, under you, over you…it didn’t seem to matter. Sooner or later you let him lead you to his room.

You thought you’d be nervous but you weren’t. You knew him too well, and you wanted it too bad. For a brief moment you thought about Ron - leaving him at the party - and you thought about your brother - what would he think? But all that was lost when Draco was locking the door and slipping your dress down and around your ankles. 

“You look so fucking beautiful. I’ve wanted you forever.”

He made sure you were comfortable in his bed and started kissing you again. You were so overwhelmed. The feeling of him on top of you - the smell of him clouding your senses - you practically naked under him. It was all a lot and you wanted more. 

“Draco take your clothes off.”

“Yes ma’am.”

You watched as he unbuttoned his coat and took it off. Next was his shirt that perfectly exposed his abs. You got up and helped him with his pants so that now all he was in was his underwear. You opened your legs so that he could lay on top of you and fit between them. He continued to kiss you as if his life depended on it.

He kissed down your neck and fondled your breasts. You were moaning his name and grinding against him.

“Draco please just give it to me.”

“Are you sure?”

You nod.

“No, love, let me hear you say it.”

“Yes, Draco I’m sure.”

He dims the light and grabs a condom from his bedside. You watch as he takes his underwear off and rolls the condom onto himself. You can’t see anything that well so you’re just waiting in anticipation. He rubs your clit with his thumb and you moan in return. He then brings his fingers down to your hole and slides a finger in. You grip the sheets in return. 

“You Draco. I’m ready for you.”

“Okay.”

He positions himself so that he’s lined up with your entrance and pushes so that just the tip is in. You both gaspeed at how good it felt as he pushed himself all the way in until he bottomed out. You felt so full and he felt so good.

“Fuck Draco.”

He started to move and you started to wonder why you didn’t do this earlier. He got into a steady rhythm and he started kissing you which masked your moans. He moved down and started sucking on your neck - undoubtedly leaving a hickey. You couldn’t bring yourself to care. Just wanted him to go faster.

“More, please.”

He started going faster and a bit rougher while rubbing your clit. That really sent you over the edge. He moaned in your ear which only brought you closer to your orgasm.

“Baby I want you to cum for me. Think you can do that?”

You didn’t respond all you could was moan as everything he was doing felt so good and was sending you over the edge. You couldn’t even move it felt so good. It was like you were parlyzed by pleasure.

“Draco, Draco I’m gonna cum please don’t stop.”

“Yeah? Yeah? You’re gonna cum for me baby? Cum around my cock baby I know you can do it.”

And with those words you were cumming. Draco came too as he felt you tighten around his cock with your orgasm. You were the most beautiful things he’s ever seen and you were coming undone right in front of him. He felt like the luckiest man alive.

He slid out of you, took care of the condom and kissed your forehead as he took a warm rag and cleaned up any of the mess you made. A mess he wanted to clean for the rest of his life. When he was done, he put his underwear back on and brought you a shirt to wear. Once you put it on he laid next to you.

“I want you Y/N. I always have. I’ve wanted you since you put me in my place fourth year when I wouldn’t stop messing with people. I’ve wanted you since you started going out with those boys and I couldn’t do anything about it. Hell, I’ve wanted you since you threw a tantrum over a cinnamon roll and I made you a new one the next day. I’ve always loved you. I know what I want. It’s you.”

_____________________________

Thank you for reading! Please leave a comment (motivates me to write) Requests are open!

[miriammctroi]

When Regulus catches Harry and Draco making out at a family function, he gives his stepson a long, long look. He takes a breath, sighs deeply.

"Harry, have you ever even tried not to be a carbon-copy of your father?"

[hugh-es43]

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Hiii I recently found your blog and I loved how you wrote the first fanfic could you please please make a story with enzo beekshire where he’s like our brother’s best friend and when he invites him over he sneaks in our room and you know… please make it smut

MY BROTHER'S FRIEND

lorenzo berkshire x fem!reader

warnings: nsfw +18, swearing, explicit language, fingering, p in v penetration, dom!enzo, cum.

word count: 1,5k

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ masterlist ; playlist ; characters list ; my website

I was in my room reading, completely lost in a world of fantasy, until I heard a knock on my door.

"mh... come in." I said, not even taking my eyes off my book. My elder brother theodore opened the door and leaned against the doorframe. "my friend's coming tonight."

"who."

"enzo."

"who?" theo sighed.

"my friend. brown hair, brown eyes... he could be your type, actually." he joked.

"oh shut up, theo."

"just playing, sis... I won't let you lie a single finger on my fellas." he said as he walked out and closed the door behind him.

my brother was so annoying. it was not the first time he had brought his friends over, especially enzo who was often at our house, and it was fine with me as long as they didn't disturb me. I just wanted to stay in my little world in my room, which my brother used to call a "girly cave", and stay unbothered from men's presence.

the clock soon struck 8pm which had always been around the time when theodore welcomed his friends in. in fact, not so many minutes later, I heard my brother talking and an unknown voice answering.

I stayed on my cozy bed in my dim-lit room, fully immersed in the intriguing novel in my hands.

margaret's arms were all around jake's neck as they kept making out in the shower. jake was panting heavily and margaret couldn't help but moan every time jake squeezed her ass. she soon broke the kiss and rested her forehead against his - jake's right hand started to wander on her inner thigh expertly, slowly and teasingly touching her clit.

I immediately snapped back to reality, panickingly throwing the book in the air as my bedroom door opened.

"hey sis, just wanted to tell you enzo and I are watching a film in my room." enzo was standing next to him and I couldn't help but check him out a little, taking in his appearance and forgetting to try to look subtle. he had fluffy, almost wavy brown hair — brown eyes, a tall figure, and a slim body. he was wearing a black sweater and a pair of blue jeans, and I couldn't help noticing the earring he was wearing, which I found extremely sexy.

enzo eyed me up back, smirking still from my book-throwing of a few seconds ago.

"hi." I sheepishly said to him. he just kept his gaze on me and stared at my bare thighs longer than necessary.

"if you need me, we're there." he said as they both left my room, shutting the door behind them.

(skip time)

I woke up confused and thirsty, the lights of my room still on, and the book that was previously in my hands was now left on my bed opened to a random page. I rubbed my eyes slowly beginning to register what was going on, and so realizing that I might've fallen asleep.

I looked at the clock on my nightstand and noticed that it was past midnight. I groaned and sat up, still taking a few moments to fully wake up from my quite long nap. I got up and walked out of my room, trying to be as quiet as possible as I didn't know if my family was already sleeping.

as I walked down the corridor, I saw the light of my brother's room cursing under the door chink, which meant that he and enzo were still awake. I knocked on the door.

no one answered. maybe they had fallen asleep forgetting to turn the lights off just like me.

I walked away and headed towards the bathroom to take a shower. I opened the door and looked at myself in the mirror, noticing my eye bags and messy hair.

I started to take my shirt off, then my shorts and my underwear, and in the end I opened the shower curtain to turn on the shower and get the hot water.

I screamed and immediately bent over to collect my clothes and press them against my naked figure, in an attempt to cover my body. there was enzo standing in the bathtub lathering up his body, he was shocked as well, but not as much as me since he didn't even try to cover up his crotch.

"is knocking no longer a trend anymore?" he said, a bit upset and a bit amused.

"I made a lot of noise! you could've let me know you were in here too!"

enzo rolled his eyes and spoke again. "lower your voice, or you'll wake theo up."

"I want to wake him up! he needs to know his friend is a damn pervert!" I was about to leave but he leaned out to grab my arm.

"oh you wouldn't dare."

my eyes widened in shock and almost disgust, but I won't lie saying I hadn't minded seeing his naked body.

"why won't you join me?"

I blushed hard. did he really ask me that? is he crazy? why was I nodding?

he smirked to himself as he saw me agreeing and gestured for me to get in with him.

I hesitantly removed the clothes from my body and let them drop back on the floor. I looked at him to see if he was making eye contact with me, but he wasn't — he was staring at my body in awe.

I made my way into the bathtub and joined him, now his gaze was on my face as he couldn't stop grinning at me, hip bottom lip between his teeth.

he didn't waste any time and immediately grabbed the back of my thighs to lift me up, then he pushed me against the cold and wet wall of the shower and held my legs tight around his waist. I automatically rested my hands on his lower chest, our eyes not leaving each other for one second.

with one of his hands, he reached the tap and turned the water on to muffle the noise we'd have made. and eventually, he pressed his lips against mine.

the kiss was slow at first, our heads often tilting to opposite sides to kiss more easily. I moved my arms around his neck, pulling him closer by the back of his head.

after some time of making out, I felt his hand leaving my thigh and rub against my clit. I gasped and threw my head back on the wall, my eyes shut and my mouth hung open. he soon slipped two fingers inside of me, making me moan in pleasure as he started to pump them in and out.

"enzo..." I moaned, clinging to his back.

"mhh... I've wanted to do this since I first saw you." he moaned back.

I was in complete ecstasy as I felt the hot water running on our bare skin — the noise of it taking over our moans of lovemaking — the feeling of his soft lips against mine, and his slender and long fingers fucking my pussy. he knew what he was doing.

"I'm so close…" I whined, almost begging him to let me release.

"hold on, baby. not like this…" he took his fingers out of me, leaving me a needy mess, and grabbed his now hard erection. he started stroking it a bit, then I felt his tip lining up against my folds.

I screamed as he pushed it inside of me without any warning, he stayed inside to let me adjust to his size, and then he began to thrust.

I could feel my walls wrap around him instantly, his thrusts not gentle at all so I could tell he had wanted this for quite a long time. he buried his face in the crook of my neck, often leaving wet kisses on my shoulder. suddenly we heard a knock on the door.

"enzo?" my brother called out. but enzo didn't bother to stop fucking me.

"it's me! I'm in the shower!" he answered.

"well, hurry up, I have to use the bathroom as well!" theo said back and then we heard his steps growing less and less loud as he walked away.

in the meantime I was completely in another universe — enzo's hand had covered my mouth to not let my brother find out what we were up to, while he kept up with his merciless thrusts.

"you're taking it so well..." he groaned into my ear. I dug my nails into his back, making him moan a little more at the painful pleasure of my gesture, and then I hit my orgasm.

the idea of making me come made enzo come right after me within a few seconds — I felt his thrusts getting faster and faster as he buried himself completely inside of me, and in the end, he pulled out cumming on my lower belly.

he kissed my forehead and put me down on my feet, making me stumble a bit from the intensity of what had just happened.

"don't tell your brother, will you, baby?" he stroked my cheek, then he turned the water off and opened the curtain.

I shook my head and he grinned at me before making his way out of the shower and wrapping a towel around his waist.

[hemmingsleclerc]

A different story┃RAB

Summary: where regulus and james’ sister raise harry together

Regulus Black and Y/N Potter had survived the war. The years since Voldemort's defeat had been filled with joy and sadness. Joy, because they had each other and the opportunity to build a new life together despite what everyone thought about them. Grief over the loss of James and Lily, Sirius' imprisonment in Azkaban, Peter's death and Remus' disappearance, leaving Harry in their care. They had promised to raise him as their own, determined to give him the love and family he deserved.

From the moment Harry arrived at Grimmauld Place, the once dark Black manor was transformed into a warm home. Regulus, no longer the young man who had once followed Voldemort’s ideas, had found a new path in his new role as a father. Y/N, with her strong and characteristic Potter kindness, made sure to brought light to every corner of her new life.

Harry's childhood with Regulus and Y/N was full of moments of love that he would remember throughout his life.

On Harry's first birthday after coming to live with them, Y/N and Regulus were determined to make it special. They decided to bake a cake without magic. The kitchen quickly became a disaster, flour covering every surface and Y/N with frosting in her hair.

"Reg, are you sure you read the recipe correctly?" Y/N asked, laughing as she tried to save a crooked layer of cake.

Regulus, with chocolate on his cheek, smiled shyly. "I'm pretty sure it said four cups of flour. Or maybe it was one…"

Despite the chaos, the cake turned out perfectly imperfect. When they show it to Harry, his eyes lit up with joy. "Happy birthday, Harry," Y/N said, kissing the top of her head.

"Happy Birthday, kid," Regulus added

When Harry received his Hogwarts letter, the house was filled with joy and a touch of bittersweet nostalgia. Regulus sat Harry down, with the letter spread out on the kitchen table. "This is where your parents went, Harry," he said softly, his eyes shining with pride and a hint of sadness.

Y/N, who was busy in the kitchen, stopped to ruffle Harry's hair. "You'll love it there, bunny. Just like your mom and dad did and so does Reggie and I."

The day he was dropped off at platform 9¾, Regulus and Y/N stood side by side, watching Harry board the train. Y/N had tears in her eyes and Regulus, although he tried to be calm, couldn't hide his emotion from him. "Be good, Harry," Regulus shouted. "And remember, we're only an owl away."

As the train pulled away, Y/N squeezed Regulus's hand. "Our little boy is growing up so fast," she whispered.

Years passed and Harry often found himself receiving Howlers from his aunt and uncle. Whether he was fighting with a troll or sneaking out of his common room after bed time, Harry's adventures with Hermione and Ron often left Regulus and Y/N worried.

One morning in the Great Hall, a Howler exploded in front of Harry, Regulus' voice echoing throughout the room. "Harry James Potter-Black! What were you thinking? The Triwizard Tournament? And a dragon? Honestly, sometimes I wonder if you have any common sense!" while hours later he received another one but this time from Y/N ''Harry, forgive Reg, he is very stressed and worried about you, we both are, we want you to know that we support you in everything and we know that you didn’t put your name on the cup, we will be there to see you at the tasks, in the meantime take care of yourself darling, we love you'' leaving Harry with a smile on his face.

As Harry grew older, he began to talk more about his friends and the special people in his life. One afternoon in the summer after their fifth year, Harry and Y/N were sitting in the garden, enjoying the warm sunlight. Harry hesitated for a moment before speaking. "Mom, can I ask you something?"

"Of course, dear," Y/N replied, looking up from her book.

"It's about Ginny," Harry began, a slight blush creeping up his cheeks. "I think… I think I like her. A lot."

"Ah, young love, so beautiful" he said with a soft smile. "She's a lovely girl, Harry. Be yourself and everything will fall into place with her, after all traditions are never broken."

''tradition?'' Harry asked

“Yeah, some people called it a curse but that sounded awful”

“Potter curse?”

''Every male Potter has his redhead,'' Y/N recited with a closed smile

Later that evening, Regulus joined the conversation. "So, Ginny Weasley, huh?" he teased, nudging Harry with his elbow. "Just remember to treat her right buddy, or you'll have more than just her brothers to answer to."

Harry laughed, feeling a warmth spread through him with his cheeks burning red

Oh I loved how this turned out, I have so many ideas about this I hope u like it 🫶🏻🫶🏻

[andromilos]

mothers and sons.

harry and draco have the absolute worst beef with each other, they're both so protective of their mothers that they throw fits whenever the other gets too much attention. it drives lily and narcissa insane

[basiatlu]

Can Harry’s shorts be anymore shorter 🥵 😳🥺

Love the details in your drawing but not as much as Ginny 😉

Oh believe me, she’s equal parts sightseer & ultimate wingman ✨

[oops-ididit]

if i ever had amnesia, i think the first thing i’d do would be read all the fics i have bookmarked on ao3. getting a second chance to read them for the first time? sign me up.

[myriadparacosm]

Because the Black family deserves a REAL LORE

Their names are stars (mostly but it's definitely a tradition and not a random one), there a not many families who would dare name their children after stars because the Black were here first.

The first of the their bloodline, at least who got a proper name, was Sol. Powerful wizard, terrifyingly so, and at that time Muggles weren't that many and still terrified of the dark - he had everything in his palm! A terribly ambitious wizard who decided to harness the stars, naming the Sun after himself and promising to name all the other stars for their powers.

The stars are his. A name for a power. Sol is the star and the rest is pure pitch black.

Sol Black got children and each baby was named after stars, one of the many he named with a promise. His children took on that heritage and the tradition kept on going, twisting over time and dripping with the darkest magic and hunger for power.

Babies always chose their own name with a burst of accidental magic around their second month. Grimmauld Place as one of the oldest house of their bloodline has, in the dancing room, a beautiful scene made up with tiles and precious gems to show all the stars and constellations to do this baptism.

Sometimes it went quick, barely bringing the child there and a star immediately shines, or it comes like a surprise, shy or too ferocious.

Sirius threw a fit in his father's arms, his star shining in rhythm of his wails. Regulus took a bit longer, quiet baby sucking on his thumb, with Walburga losing her patience before hiccuping and his star shone like a firework before quieting down.

[deadghosy]

Slytherins react to you talking about what will happen when you get married and if they would want to marry you.

requested: yes

Ft. The riddles, Draco Malfoy, Theodore Nott, Lorenzo Berkshire.

TOM RIDDLE

When you started talking about love and marriage he wanted to gag. That was until you made it about yourself

Then you asked him if he would marry you

He would jokingly, and the first funniest joke. He would joke about how marriage is a scam.

You side eyed him and he admitted that he is willing to marry you

You are his soulmate so yes

MATTHEO RIDDLE

He felt as if you read his mind as you started to talk about marriage

He listened to all the words you were talking about. And when you asked if he wanted to marry you

He immediately nodded when you asked if he wanted to marry you. He almost popped his head off 😭

He was almost up all night planning the wedding and asking his older brother what’s the best ring to put on you

DRACO MALFOY

When you started to talk about marriage he rolled his eyes

He didn’t want to hear about love until you had asked him if he wanted to marry you

He paused whatever he was doing and accidentally admitted that he would. And he did it by asking you “Who told you that??”

He was already planning the wedding..

THEODORE NOTT

He smiled at you talking about marriage

He’ll be thought million of times asking you to be his spouse

So when you asked him if he wanted to marry you, that was the go for him to just propose to you.

Well…he wasn’t bold to do that of course. He just nodded. There’s still time to propose to you of course

He can’t tell you that he has an engagement ring hidden in his dorm after you two graduate…

LORENZO BERKSHIRE

When you started to talk about marriage, he thought about the dreams he had with you two being married

So when you asked him if he wanted to marry you…

He crashed.

*cue Lorenzo.exe crashing*

Boy was flustered as he gulped at the thought of just courting you and making you his.

At the end. Yes he would marry you, it was his dream ever since he saw you

[yourlocalbadgerscales]

Just saw a post about something Sirius said once:

“The world isn’t split into good people and Death Eaters.”

And I think I just understood something, after reading this quote so many times before.

Sirius isn’t just trying to say that not all bad people are Death Eaters. He’s also trying to say that not all Death Eaters are bad people.

I wonder if Harry ever realised this, and thought about Draco.

I wonder if Sirius ever realised the meaning of what he had said to Harry that time. If he spent any sleepless nights afterwards, thinking about his little brother…

I wonder if this is something James told Sirius, when he was still alive. If it’s James that Sirius is quoting.

[yourdadsbasement]

boy 🥺…the CTE 🥺🥺…

ok i am obsessed with them Donita’s ship is now The Factory to me, she is the Andy Warhol of ecocide

i love her Cruella deVille touch tone phone

for real i’d buy this dress it’s amazing

ok what would Zach’s Donita Donata Men’s Collection cat walk look be? Jewel beetle? Aye-aye? Bullet ant?