#draco malfoy x neutral

[ohwowimlonley]

Omg I love your writing and I'd like to request a smut with draco if that's okay!! Something w dry humping where he's more submissive & fem reader

This is a small apology for being present on tumblr for the past few weeks but not actually writing or posting at all lol

-

“Draco,” your voice comes out sing-songy, breath shifting your boyfriend’s fringe ever so slightly as you speak, “you’ve only got five more minutes ‘til you need to be in the changing rooms, so you better hurry up,”

Words stick in his throat, all he can do is let out a petulant whine and cant his hips up to meet yours, then throw his head back in frustration when the friction of his boxers isn’t nearly enough to help him. You debate taking pity on him, maybe rocking your hips might help push him over the edge, but those gorgeous eyes filling with tears keeps you from doing anything just yet.

“Don’t forget y’gotta make me cum first, sweet thing,” you lean down over his chest, making your bare tits squish against his pecs and smushing your cunt harder against his cock.

“Oh- oh fuck,” his hands grapple at your hips, squeezing tight enough to form bruises. You let him do it, giving him just enough to stop him from bursting into a puddle of sexually frustrated tears, “I can’t- I can’t!”

“Of course you can, sweetness,” you press featherlight kisses over his face, which only serves to make him throb even harsher against your swollen clit. Then, he’s pushing at your hips, dragging you up and down over his clothed length, bumping the tip of his cock against your most sensitive parts, “yes, baby, just like that,”

[cash-111]

What do they think about marriage?

Pairings: slytherin guys x reader

A/N: I am having a severe case of marriage fever, if that even exists. Anyways, have this small HC drabble, tell me what you think.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Theodore:

Honestly I think he’d be against the idea for a pretty long time (seeing his mother as sort of ‘trapped’ before she died), he’d resent marriage through most of his early life.

But then he’d meet you, and you’d start going on 1, 2… 5 years together? And it would just start to feel so right, so he’d have to pop the question.

He’ll want nothing more than to reclaim this sacred bond as his with you by his side.

Mattheo:

Didn’t really care about marriage one way or another. I do think he’d be secretly very enamored with the idea of a more domestic life, though.

Once he finds the right person, something clicks and he knows he’ll want to spend the rest of his life with them.

Marriage is just one way to crown this desire, and if you want it, he’ll happily oblige.

Draco:

He was brought up with marriage in mind, and I don’t think that bothers him much; it’s just a stepping stone he has to take at some point, though he’s adamant about making his own independent choice when it comes to when, who and how.

His parents may or may not approve of you, he doesn’t care (though it’d be easier if they did), once he’s set on the idea of marrying you that is exactly what he’ll do.

(On another note, I also think he’d find himself enjoying organizing it lol)

Enzo:

Dreams of marriage. Secretly goes through revenue and dresses catalogs when he’s feeling particularly down or lonely.

I think he’d be one of the quickest to take the knee, and even quicker to realize you’re the one he had been waiting for.

Blaise:

Also someone whom I think really holds dear the idea of having such a companionship.

I always imagine him as a single child born to single children, so I think he’d have some kind of family heirloom given to him pretty early in, like his grandma’s ring.

Once you guys have been going out for a while I think he’d roll it around in his hand late at night, while he watches your sleeping form breathe peacefully.

Tom:

Does not want it.

In his plans there had never been any space for that kind of frivolous distraction, plus any title that is bestowed by someone other than him is pretty much meaningless.

(He’s so napoleon takes the crown coded)

Instead, he’d hold a “devotion ceremony”, where you make an unbreakable vow that seals you to him forever. Romantic isn’t he? You should be grateful.

[happilykrispypirate]

Could you possibly do something with a gn hufflepuff reader and Mattheo where he can't find the reader and ends up finding them in the kitchen baking a whole bunch of cookies to just give out to people?

Adorable

Pairings: Mattheo Riddle x gn!reader

Warnings: Swearing, and my shitty writing.

A/n: this took way too long, I'm so sorry

-

"Oh for fucksakes, where is it?" Mattheo rummaged through his bag trying to find one of his books.

"Here you go," Y/n (love of his life but he won't admit that to anyone but them) said giving him the book.

"Where did you find it?" He asked as he took the book from their hands.

"You left it on the desk last night," They said smiling at him.

He returned the smile and gave them a kiss on the lips.

"Thanks cutie," He said making them blush.

"Stop, get to class. You're going to be late," They said pushing him off of them.

"One more," Mattheo said leaning in and kissing them again.

"Go!" They said giggling.

"I'm going, I'm going. I'll meet you after class. I love you," Matteo smiled as he stood up.

"Love u too," They smiled after him.

-

Mattheo sighed when he exited the classroom. He couldn't wait to cuddle up with them and just fall asleep.

He headed to the Great Hall but frowned when he didn't see them. They're usually there.

"Luna, have you seen Y/n?" He asked.

"No, sorry. They disappeared a while ago," She said.

Mattheo then headed to the library and didn't see them.

Mattheo then headed to their dorm. The rest of the Hufflepuffs have gotten used to Mattheo being their, they don't question when he walks towards the dorms.

When he opened the dorm, they weren't there. He saw their books, robes and everything there, but not them. He looked around trying to find something that might help him find them. He then saw the book that was wide open on their bed.

It was a recipe for cookies. Mattheo sighed, they must be in the kitchen.

He made his way to the kitchen and there they were, covered in flower, there stood the love of his life, baking cookies.

"Hi honey," They smiled brightly when they saw him.

"You had me worried," He said when he approached them, wrapping his arms around them.

"Why?" They asked.

"I didn't kno where you were. Why are you baking cookies?" He asked.

"I just wanted to give something to everyone, they've all been working hard with the exams. They've also been so nice! I like to think it's because I'm nice, not because you threaten them to be nice," They said.

"I think it's because you're nice," Matteo said kissing them on the cheek.

"Okay let's get these babies in the oven, and then we can hand them out," They said excitedly.

"You're adorable," Mattheo smiled as he pulled them in for a kiss.

[hp-hcs]

Hmmm how about a poly oneshot with bully Draco and Lorenzo who hates the reader for being with the golden trio and mainly potter ?? They hate how touchy and blushy harry gets around their darling and vice-versa. They hate how everyone thinks you two are together and you don't do anything to clear up the rumor. They hate how you're always in his dorm and they hate seeing your lipgloss mark left on harry. But God do they love you and can't take it anymore 🤭🤭

oooh, interesting! love to see that you’re a hoe for drama (lovingly)

hate how this turned out but wtv

lipstick — yandere! enzo berkshire & yandere! draco malfoy x gn! gryffindor! reader

tws: toxic/possessive/obsessive behavior, slut shaming, implied sexual content? (question mark?)

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Look at stupid Potter. With his stupid scar, and his stupid friends, and his stupid Y/N.”

“His?” Enzo laughs. “Y/N is not his.”

“Not if we can help it,” Draco mumbles.

The pair watches in silence as you throw a snowball at the ginger weasel, ducking behind Harry when the bloodtraitor tries to retaliate.

Harry scooped you up in his arms, like a valiant prince coming to save the day.

They can both hear your clear laugh, even from the other side of the courtyard. It makes them both seethe with anger.

~~~

“C’monnnn,” you pleaded, tugging at Harry’s arm. “I have friends other than you. I wanna talk to Luna and Pansy and Blaise.”

Harry rolled his eyes, not putting up much of a fight as you dragged him into the Great Hall.

It was a new thing this season, to promote house unity, or whatever. The heads of houses had come up with the idea; tea, cocoa, and cookies in the Great Hall every Friday evening. Everyone welcome.

The Great Hall is dimmer than usual, not all of the floating candles lit. A few dozen student of all houses mingle and meander.

A group of kids sat on a blanket on the cool stone floor, almost as if it were a picnic.

Another group had thrown blankets and sheets over part of the ridiculously long tables, creating a blanket fort underneath.

You headed straight over to where Luna was painting Pansy’s nails. They greeted you with laughter as Luna’s unsteady hand got orange nail polish all over Pansy’s knuckle.

You gasp. “Harry! Let me paint your nails! Pleaseeee?”

He shrugged, looking over the myriad of colors laid out. He picked one up and held it out towards you.

“Snitch gold, for luck.”

You laugh, accepting the bottle and pointing for him to sit down.

“You don’t need luck, Harry. You’re you.”

Across the room, two Slytherins clocked Potter’s shy grin and bright blush.

~~~

You sat down with your friends, a wicked game of truth or dare already in full effect. As predicted, Gryffindor had won their game against Hufflepuff, resulting in a very large house party. You’d noticed a few Ravenclaws around and wondered how they got in, until you saw the Slytherins, the lions’ main suppliers of firewhiskey and good times.

“I dare you…” Ginny trailed off as she thought. A wicked grin spread across her face. “I dare you to wear that failed blue glitter lipstick that me and Cho made.”

You roll your eyes. “Oh, please. That’s easy.”

“For the whole day tomorrow.”

You raise an eyebrow. “I’m not afraid. Bring it on.”

~~~ “Draco!” Enzo hissed as he harshly elbowed his friend in the ribs.

“Ow. What?” He followed Enzo’s finger, pointing straight at the Gryffindor table. “What am I looking at?”

“Potter.”

Harry James Potter was furiously scrubbing at his skin with a napkin as you, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione were all practically howling with laughter.

Sure enough, you were true to your word, wearing that ridiculously tacky lipstick that stood out like a beacon when surrounded by all of that garish red and gold.

Harry let out a visible sigh, tossing down the napkin and sitting back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest in an obvious sulk.

Right there, smack dab in the middle of his cheek, was a perfect blue stain from a kiss.

Draco’s ears burned with rage.

“Nope. Come on, Enz. We’ve waited damn long enough.”

~~~ “It’s not coming off, guys,” Harry whined.

“Why do you think we called it failed?” Ginny laughs, the blue smudge on his cheek looking quite comical. “That’s what happened when we tried to wear it.”

You snicker. “You look good in blue, Harry,” you teased, enjoying the faint blush that settled over his cheeks.

You suddenly felt a heavy hand come down on your shoulder, tightening to the point where it was almost painful.

You whirled around, surprised to see two Slytherins you’d barely talked to.

Harry sneered at the sight of his long-time rival, Malfoy. “What do you gits want?”

They both ignored him, as if he wasn’t there at all.

“We need to talk to you,” Enzo snapped, his hand on your shoulder tightening even more as he all but dragged you out of your seat.

You stumbled after him as Draco propelled you forward with a firm hand on the small of your back.

The two boys dragged you out into the hall, away from prying eyes. Draco wasted no time before shoving you up against the wall in a secluded alcove.

“The fuck do you think you’re doing, kissing Potter?”

“W-what?” You stammered, your brain not yet having caught up with the situation.

Enzo scoffed. “Whoring yourself out to anyone who blushes at you, huh?”

“What?”

“How long have you been sleeping with him, hm? How long?”

“Wh- Harry? We’re friends!”

“Friends, huh? Friends?” Enzo scoffed.

“Yes!” You snapped. “Who d’you think you are, questioning my- mmfph!”

Draco surged forward and kissed you harshly.

~~~

Enzo Berkshire, Draco Malfoy, and Y/N L/N all stumbled into Defense Against the Dark Arts twenty minutes late, their clothes rumpled and their skin stained with blue lipstick.

[3kk0-0]

PEOPLE PEOPLE- WHY ARE WE RUNNING ON EMPTY WITH DRACO MALFOY FICS- IVE QUITE LITERALLY READ ALL OF THE AMAZING AND DECENT ONES AND ALL IM LEFT WITH IS FICS FROM OVER SIX YEARS AGO- planning to write my own soon 😭😭😭 FEED ME IM DESPERATE

[evangelinesecondacc]

We both knew.

Pairing: Mattheo x Reader

TW: black out, drugs, a little bit of angst?,lmk if there’s anything else

A/N: y’all I haven’t checked for any mistakes so, I’m sorry for that. And I recommend listening to ‘Where’s my love’ cus I was listening to it while I wrote this. So yeah.

LISTEN. TO. IT. 🤺🤺🤺

Also this is in Matt’s POV

We both knew.

I remember the first time I heard your laugh. Not the little by the side laugh. But the one, when you were are genuinen. A true laugh.

We were both sitting at the black lake in summer. It was nighttime and quiet hot, but you were still covering the body that the good gods gave you, with a big black hoodie. I was telling you about the first time Theodore, Blaze and me got high. I was confused, because you didn’t cover your smile with your hand. You were always covering it. But I didn’t care. Hearing you laugh so sweetly and seeing your eyes get smaller because of your cheeks, you know, it did something to me. I never felt something like that before. And I don’t mean the whole love part. I mean the part where I felt safe. You were, are my safe space. We would talk for hours, get high and laugh about stupid things. Remember the time we got caught sneaking out? Good for us, that we are good runners, huh? My lungs were bleeding, but it was worth holding your hand. I would gladly bleed for you again, if it meant holding your hands. Those hands, that wiped away my tears, cleaned my wounds, made me feel good, caressed my hair and baked those delicious pastries.

We both knew.

I sometimes think of how we used to play card games for hours on the ride to Hogwarts. I’d let you win most of the time. Seeing you get excited and laugh over me, made me feel something. We would talk for hours, sharing our thoughts and experiences, without feeling ugly, disgusting or scared.

The ride back was something different. We were both quiet. You’d hold my hand and squeeze it occasionally, whisper sweet nothings and make me calm down. I would feel sorry for being quiet and just looking out the window every time. But I just couldn’t. Knowing that I was going back to that place, my supposed home... It was more of a prison, than a home. Days filled with torture and pain just kind of bleed into eachother, it’s like a fever dream you cannot escape..

We both knew.

Once I accidentally found your paintings. I was looking for you, because you weren’t at class. I didn’t knew, that you were skipping with Pansy at the astronomy tower, at the time. I went to your dorm and looked everywhere. I was even looking under your bed, I don’t even know why, when I found oil paintings. I knew you made them because of your signature at the bottom. You painted the black lake at night. Our not so secret, secret spot. We met there at morning, noon or night. It was a beautiful mix of feelings. It had something peaceful about it. All those colors and little details, were mesmerizing and living in harmony. They reminded me of you.

We both knew.

I remember how I snuck into your dorm every now and then. It was wrong but, it felt right. Your touch made my skin feel on fire. It made me burn for you. I burn for you. Every kiss, every sound you made, it drove me crazy. You loved to tease me about it in the next morning. But still,

We both knew.

Trying to forget the time I passed out and you found me in my dorm, is hard. I can’t recall everything clearly, but your screams still echo in my head every now and then. Just thinking about it makes shivers run down my spine. You were horrified. You were so scared and fell to your knees. You put my head on your lap and were stroking my hair while the others came running in. Draco told me, that you refused to let go of me until a teacher came. Lorenzo had to hold you back, while Theo carried me to the medical wing. They told me, that you thought that I was dying even though it was just an overdose.

When I opened my eyes again, I saw you asleep on the chair next to me. You didn’t look well, your eyes were sunken in and they were filled with something I couldn’t quite grasp. Worry. You woke up started crying again. We both were, I couldn’t hide it. I am sorry. Forgive me love.

We both knew.

On your last birthday in Hogwarts I bought you new paint brushes, new paint and a necklace I made myself. You were so excited and hugged me so deeply, it made me feel alive. You used those brushes to make a painting of my eyes. It was very charming I must admit. The excitement in your eyes as you showed me the painting you made for me, made my heart feel like it’s on fire. I knew that I would burn for you one day eventually, but I didn’t think that it would be a good feeling. Your eyes got small and you didn’t hide your smile. Your beautiful smile.

We both knew.

Some nights, I pray not to see you. But you come anyway..soft, laughing, looking at me like I’m still yours. And for a moment, I forget. I let myself touch you, hold you, drown in you. Then morning comes, and I wake to the cold, to the truth. What a cruel thing—to make me dream of you, to remind me of everything I can never have.

We both knew.

I remember explaining you with tears in my eyes. But you didn’t listen to me. You were furious, frustrated, sad and lost. I found you throwing up in the bathroom. You were grieving, over me. Just then I realized that a person doesn’t have to die to be grieved over. I told you, that we both knew. We both knew that it was too dangerous. We both knew that we were feeling. We both knew we couldn’t.

We both knew.

We both knew it was too dangerous to be together.

We both knew that we were in love, but we were too scared to say it out loud.

We both knew that we were going to be hurt.

We both knew.

[zwolfgames]

Yandere Draco Malfoy x reader (Part 3)

Requested by: /

Warnings: Talks of murder, unlogical magic use, abuse of spells, violence and yandere stuff.

Parts: Part 1 , Part 2

And it was ass-

Draco woke up early to do his hair, insisting that he'd do yours aswell. And no, you were never as high end as him, so getting all these forgein products put into your hair wasn't pleasant.

He began choosing your weekend outfits. Styled your school robes when he didn't approve of how ruffled they were, he even went as far as to push you into the bathroom to shower when he found you too greasy. By wich you mean everyday....

You hadn't expected the blonde to be such a control freak, but he was. Okay, maybe you should have... 

Currently, you were simply walking down a secluded hall.. again, when the statue next to you and Draco let its axe drop.

You weren't fast enough to completly save your most controlling friend, tough you did pull him into you out of reflex. A bleeding cut was created on his left arm... but it was better then getting an axe trough your head, you suppose.

Draco screams out in angony and you wince as the sound hurt your ears.

You drag the fool with you to the infirmairy while he's crying out in pain, hoping you get there before he passes out because in no way are you strong enough to carry this lanky kid.

You grit your teeth as you think back to the now thrid attempt at Draco's life. What student even has the balls to attempt this even once? And how had the teachers not caught them?

And why is Harry Potter staring at you and Draco from behind a corne-

What.

You whip your head around to face the chosen one who freezes as he's caught.

"I can explain-" He stutters out with his hands up to show his innocence.

"Did you try to kill him?" You ask simply while Draco's just screaming.

"No-"

"Okay." You turn back around and keep walking, you had bigger problems then Potter's questions right now.

"What? No wait-" He runs after you as you keep walking.

You don't really react as you keep dragging Draco away to the infirmairy.

Mrs.Pomfrey gasps in shock as you bring Draco in, she immeadiatly gets to work and you can finally drop the screaming blonde onto a bed, tough he's mostly just crying now.

Draco demands that you hold his other hand while Pomfery heals his arm.

So you suck up your free will and sit next to his bedside to hold his hand.

Harry hasn't left... Just stares at the scene in confusion.

"Why are you friends with Malfoy?" The dark haired boy asks.

You eye him for a moment, as you've never talked before.

"I'm not." You shrug and Draco almost snarls.

".. You are." The blonde croaks out in pain, just to correct you.

You roll your eyes and Harry's frown tightens.

"Do you have any clue's on who's trying to kill him?" Harry asks, as if the target isn't right by you two.

"A student, thats all I know. And if you're going to be asking questions atleast make it less obvious that you're interogating us." You scoff and the boy bites his lip, pushing his glasses back up.

"I want to help-" 

"Yourself. We know." 

You finish for him and he looks baffled.

"Thats not what I was going to say." Harry frowns more, fidgeting with his sleeves.

"But it was what you meant. It's a student, thats all I know. Now shoo because the more I talk to you the harder this git squishes my hand." You side glare at Draco who is currently glaring at Harry.

"Then let go of him. He'll be fine on his own, come help us search." Harry suggests a bit calmly now.

Wow, you've never tought of just letting go- Ofcourse you had! Draco just had a deathgrip on your hand.

"This doesn't concern you, Potter." You shake your head. Harry steps closer to look you in the eye.

"No, it does concern me. Nothing at this school ever happens without Voldemort being behind it, it has to be some kind of elaborate plan to get the schools defences down." Harry tries to convince you.

"Ah yes, killing Lucius' son is gonna bring all of Hogwarts down! The worst it's gonna do is have Draco's dad sue the school or something." You explain.

"You know his father?" Harry asks in disbelief. "Well not personally, why?" You ask in confusion, eyebrows scrunching together.

"He's evil." Harry whispers as if he isn't being glared at by the blonde.

"Yea so? Thats not my problem?" You shrug again and ignore the pulling on your hand from a clearly annoyed Slytherin.

"What? That... Y/N, just help us, you're with Draco all the time, and you've saved him too. We can solve this together." Harry starts again with his proposal.

"No, Potter, let the teachers solve things for once, go study or something. And why do you know my name?" You narrow your (e/c) eyes.

Harry stiffens. From what you've heard of Draco's shittalking, he's quite the stalker. Tough you'd never expected to be a victim of it.

"Don't worry about it, you're well known-"

"I'm not."

"You're friends with a Malfoy."

"I'm not." You repeat again.

"..You are.." Draco buts in again.

You sigh at the absurdity of this all. Harry wanted that thrill of mystery. Draco wanted a friend he could control and you just wanted to pass this year.

Very diffrent wants and needs. Not compatible.

So you'd ditch them both.

Easy as that.

When Draco was allowed out of the infirmairy you helped him back up to your shared room and ran off as fast as you could.

Two goals in mind, catch the mystery person and avoid everyone else.

So, out of pure desperation, you stole a polyjuice potion from proffesor Snape's supply. How, you may ask. You snuk a letter up under the door of his office that said he was needed by Dumbledore in terms of his potions career. It couldn't be too obvious, but it seems you had nailed it.

So without furder ado, you threw a hair of your blonde 'friend' into the potion. You had snatched a Slytherin tie from his closet. Quite an idiotic descicion to let you live in his dorm...

Oh well. You were transformed in a matter of minutes, tried to adjust the now blonde hair back to how neat Draco usually had it and set off to go find the most secluded and dark places off the castle.

If they wanted Draco malfoy dead, then they'd have to try harder.

It didn't take long before you felt watched. But you had to keep the cocky air up around you. Chin up, back straight. 

And bam! A spell again! Right past your face from behind. Since you weren't actually Draco, you had been on guard. And this time this sucker wasn't getting away.

You chugged down a speed potion, accio-ing your broom as you ran after the person. Draco's height aided your sprint, tough you hoped the polyjuice potion didn't affect your own pyshical abilities because you doubt that Draco could hold up running as long as you.

Your broom flew into your hand not long after, stealing tricks from Potter wasn't a bad idea as long as no-one saw it!

You didn't even sit on the long stick, no time for that. You just let it drag you along as it flew. You didn't know brooms could even work like that, but your will power was enough for it to do so.

You pushed off against walls as you followed this person into the darker parts of the castle. Deeper into the dungeons. They must have realised long ago that you weren't Draco, or they'd have tried something to hurt you.

Glidinf off of stairs, ignoring the harsh thuds you made against walls and the layers of skin under your pants that were getting torn up by your landing and frantic turns and collisons.

It could all be fixed. As long as you finally caught this damm person it would all be worth it.

With a last jump you caught onto the persons black hood, togging it off and holding in to keep them in your grip.

A feminine yelp left the wrongdoer's mouth as you threw her onto the ground. Letting your broom fly out of your hands so you could pull out you wand, aimed right at her neck.

A....

A child....

First year, maybe.... second year?

You didn't know. But you eyes widened at the sight of this... scared girl.

 But now's not the time to be weak, who knows, maybe she took a polyjuice potion too to get the wrong person jailed.

"Explain, right now." You demand in a snarl. It must have looked a lot more intimidating considering you had Draco's face at the moment... It was strange hearing his voice say your words...

"I-I only want him dead!" The girl shouts out. You stiffen and tug her up by the hair.

"And why?" You narrow your now grey eyed gaze. Glaring harshly.

"His father ruined my family! Why are you helping him!?" The girl sobbed. You weren't sure what to do...

Let a kid kill Draco or just turn her in...

You couldn't let her roam free and try again. If Draco actually died you'd be suspicious too.... And intergogated. Truth serum and bam, they had you as the one that let the murderer get away.

Is that a selfish tought?

Are you allowed to think that way?

"I'm helping him because I'm not letting someone die, Malfoy or not." You bite back.

"Thats stupid, he's using you! Let me go!" The girl tries to kick you, a quick 'Stupefy' to the face knocks her right out.

No, you made your desciscion, better safe then sorry. You'd just... deliver her to Dumbledore... Thats better then.. Snape? Better then McGonnagall? Atleast punishment wise. Maybe.. they'd just send her to therapy?

Yea.. lets believe in that...

You carried the girl out of the dungeons. Exhausted by the end of the stairs. If only you knew a spell to make bodies float, too bad thats a Potter exclusive.

After some breaks and huffs, you got to Dumbledore's way too high up office.

Trying to make the walls open or whatever, you hadn't ever been here before...

And you still looked like Draco...

Oh this day couldn't get any worse.

You managed to open the gateway, dropped the kid on a chair at Dumbledore's office and looked him in the eye.

"Malfoy, what brings you and Delaine here?" Dumbledore inquires calmly.

"It's L/N, sir. This is the girl thats been trying to kill Malfoy, excuse my looks..." You sigh and run a hand trough your- Draco's hair. Too much gel for your liking...

"L/N? I see. And how did you aquire a polyjuice potion?" Dumbledore asked with an amused smile.

He didn't look mad but you were'nt going to risk it.

"Lucius Malfoy aided me and Draco in our plan, sir." You lied spontaniously. The old man didn't seem to question it and just nodded.

....

"She isn't going to.. Azkaban, right?" You ask in a whisper.

"No... Miss Delaine hasn't killed anyone... yet. She'll be undergoing a trial. I'll be sure to give your house twenty points for your heroic behavior. You like it on the down low, don't you?" Dumbledore smiles.

You stiffen at his sudden.. correct assumption.

You tought he knew lots, but to know personal things about you? Some random student? Weirdo...

What's he? All seeing?

"You're dismissed, L/N. Be sure to visit the imfirmairy, you look quite rustled." Dumbledore advised and opens the gateway for you again.

You nod and walk out.

Only when the door closes again does your calm expression twist into guilt...

You just ruined some girls life... Not as bad as going to Azkaban... but you defenitly fucked it up..

But.. but it would have been worse for her if she had actually killed Draco. You keep repeating that all the way to the infirmairy.

Why did it have to be some kid?

You weren't sure wether to tell Draco the morning after.

You had come back to the dorm, no strange onlookers glared at you now that you looked liked Draco.

Tough you watched in the mirror as the potions' effects wore off. As the blonde melted back into (h/c) and your body became your own again.

All while you saw the person you were sleeping behind you.

He wasn't even tucked in correctly...

So you did that first... then went to bed yourself.

And now here you were, with Draco gushing over how amazing you looked with the Slytherin tie and how you should steal his clothes more often.

You refrained from looking angry since he didn't need to know all about your reasons for it.

A shame you forgot to change before going to sleep...

He made you wear that tie for the whole day.

It was like a claim.

You weren't sure how you felt about this whole 'friendship' anymore now that the murder problem had been resolved...

Maybe you'd just stick around untill one of the teachers officially announces that the case was solved.

You just wanted your old friends back, your old roomates...

But luck was never on your side.

Not a week after, it had been revealed, wich seemed good. You weren't mentioned, just like Dumbledore knew you wanted.

But oh boy. Someone else knew.

Lucius Malfoy.

The man himself came to visit Hogwarts and singled you and Draco out after dinner.

Exposing your heroic deeds and making Draco like you even more.

he assumed you cared about him to do all this. You just had the basic human decency to not let someone die.

Thats all there was to it.

Atleast on your side.

After Lucius' visit, Draco didn't let you leave him like you had planned.

And you were finally fed up.

Packing your stuff, you'd just move back to your dorm without asking.

"What do you think you're doing?" Draco stood in the doorway. Closing the door behind him as he walked in.

"Moving back. The murder is solved." You state calmly, trying not to provoke anything in the blonde.

"Y/N, you can't do that." He shakes his head and opens your wardrobe again to put your clothes back.

"I can. I've helped you, it's over now." You refuse and put the clothes back in your suitcase.

Draco's face twists into a frown as he comes closer.

"We're not over."

"That isn't what I said-"

"You're mine, Y/n."

Draco announces so directly you needed a moment for the shock to pass so that that cringe feeling could swarm over you.

"Excuse me?" You ask in offence.

"You're mine. In everyway a person could be mine." Draco elaborates, it isn't making his words any better."

"You're sounding absurd." You facepalm but your wrist gets snatched and pulled to his chest.

"You don't understand. I want you in every way there is to want. You're my soulmate. Platonically, Romantically- whatever ally there is. You're the first true friend I've had. You're mine." Draco grins slightly... pshycotically.

Sure mental problems are allowed but keep them to yourself, jeez.

"Did someone make you chug a love potion? Go sober up in the corner and then we'll talk." You keep your cool. Even if you're freaking out on the inside. He isn't acting normal. This has to be a potion of somekind.

Surely it is.

"My father has already agreed that I can court you, Y/N. Don't you see how good this could be for you.?" Draco smiles, trying to convince you of his ultimate love.

You cringe and try to back away, but the blonde just backs you up more into the wardrobe.

"Don't fight our bond." Draco whispers rather creepily.

You'd rather fight both the bond and him if you could choose.

But the moment that you did, or well, attempted to punch him, you were out like a light.

Just like that girl you caught, Draco had 'stupefied' you too.

Knocked out cold for him to gush over.

He just needed a friend that wouldn't leave him.

A friend that wasn't fake.

And you were perfect, seeing as you had no trouble insulting him.

So you were his.

You'd stay his.

You had chosen wrong.

_____☆_____

Kinda lame ending, I know.

But I mean, good enough for a long ass one shot like this. Coudln't let it get too long.

Requests are always open. This is also on Wattpad (its one whole chapter there), and request can be done there too! Whatever you prefer!

have a nice day/night <3

_____☆_____

Words: 5210 (If you read all three parts)

taglist: @maggiecc

[drvconian]

New Year's Day

It’s still dark outside when you wake up, the stars twinkling in the night sky. The world is quiet, the streets lit up only by the streetlamps that line them. Leftover decorations and litter sprinkle the ground, alongside the mist that makes the grass sparkle underneath the moonlight.

You haven’t gotten out of bed yet. The air is cold, and your bed is warm. It invites you to settle back into it, but there’s a restlessness that keeps you awake. You have no want to sleep, and so you move and place your feet on the floor, wincing a little bit at how cold the ground is. The heater is usually on during the day, but you turn it off at night because Draco is used to sleeping in the cold. It gave you an incentive to use him for warmth, so you didn’t mind.

You slip your feet into your slippers and push yourself into a standing position. You turn to look down at Draco, still peacefully asleep in the bed. The sheets are dark and made of silk, which seemed like a ridiculous purchase to you whenever he insisted you buy them, but now you like them. You enjoyed sliding into bed and feeling the softness against your skin, plus your hair felt softer. Draco looked at ease whenever he slept, and that was the biggest benefit of it all. Maybe it reminded him of how he slept growing up – or he read about the benefits of them along the years. You did not know, and you did not care. It made him happy.

That was how you and Draco lived… You were more focused on trying to make life comfortable again. Life hadn’t felt normal since, and it most likely never would. It was a fact you spent the better part of the year trying to face. You had lost friends, and others had lost family. Draco had lost his sense of family: they weren’t dead, but it was close. His father was imprisoned, and there was a distance between Narcissa and Draco that hadn’t been there before. He wouldn’t speak on it, and you wouldn’t force him to. It was his choice. 

His blond hair was messed up, not slicked back like it usually was. He was curled up slightly, with his head resting on the inside of his arm. His mouth hung open slightly, and if you listened close enough, you could hear the small snores you had come to adore. You used to lie awake listening to them after the war… just to be sure he was still living. Softly, you reach out and brush his hair out of his face. He doesn’t stir.

After everything, he had trouble sleeping. He would randomly wake up through the night, shaking and pale. You’d hold him, talking to him quietly or humming some lullaby from years past. He once, in a whisper, confessed that your touch calmed something in him. You were a hand that couldn’t hurt. Some things still bled like open wounds. Others were barely starting to scab over. Though he always found a way of reminding you of how much you were helping. Even if he didn’t realize it, him trusting you enough to be vulnerable and not flinch from your hand was significant.

You retreat, quietly making your way out of your room after slipping your wand into your pocket. When the door is shut behind you, you’re met with the wreckage of the previous night. Glitter covers the floor, gold and black and silver. You sigh internally, already wanting to be back in the comfort of your bed. You did not want to deal with this mess so early.

You and Draco had the biggest place out of your friends, so the majority of celebrations were held at your flat. You were happy to host events and make food for them, but you also dreaded the next day: clean-up time. Since the celebration had run so late, you didn’t have any help on cleaning up. Having a dirty place stressed you out, so it really wasn’t a surprise that you were up early to clean it.

It was around 5 am on January 1st. Everyone had left a few hours earlier after the clock had struck midnight and kisses were exchanged between sweethearts, and prolonged hugs between friends. It was the first you and Draco had been able to share it together, and kissing him at midnight felt like a dream. Surrounded by your friends, and people you were still trying to connect with… the night had felt like pure bliss. You had all gone up to the roof and watched the fireworks, sharing drinks and talking.

There was a makeshift photo booth set up alongside one of the walls, with cheap Muggle decorations and too much glitter that you knew would drive you mad when you had to clean it up. Seeing your friends enjoy it made it all worth it, though. The photos that came out of it would be passed around for generations to come: the one after the war. A fresh start. A new year. That had been the purpose of the party, a good night to hopefully welcome in a good year.

The floor is a mess, covered in spilled drinks and glitter and other things you, if you were being honest, weren’t completely sure of the origin. A lot had happened during the night, with your friends getting drunk, loud music playing, people having to yell to hear one another. It was a great night, but now you had to clean up the evidence. That was the downside of being the host.

Everything was worth it, in the end. You hadn’t seen Draco smile so wide while surrounded by so many people in a long time: he hadn’t been able to see his friends for a while, so having an occasion where he could sit back, relax and drink while catching up had seemed to cheer him up despite all the worrying over the party he did in the first place. Hosting social events seemed like second nature to him from the start, but watching him host the actual event was something you could get used to. Draco has unlimited charisma, and while he wasn’t overly liked by the crowd, you felt like they at least could walk away from the party with a few compliments toward him. He constantly made sure the drinks and ice were refilled, and he encouraged the guests to not be stingy when it came to the snack table. He had splurged a little bit on the food, even though it wasn’t a full-course meal, and instead was finger food so people could eat while mingling.

You were one of the people that had drank the least out of your friends, having no intention of blacking out. Draco had limited his drinking too, though he had more than you did, which is why you let him sleep while you dealt with the mess. A few stragglers at the end of the night had tried to help and clean up a little, but you forced them to leave and closed the door on them – you weren’t going to make a guest clean up. That was something you and Draco could agree on.

Cleaning up the mess wouldn’t be too difficult, especially with the aid of magic that you were allowed to do on your own now that you were of age and graduated from Hogwarts. It would take a little while to scrub the glitter out of the carpets, as everything couldn’t be done with magic, but you could vanish the bulk of the trash.

You pull your wand out from your pocket, and begin making your way around the room, quietly whispering “evanesco” every now and then. You kept your footsteps light, and avoided anything on the floor that you might possibly slip or get stuck in. Everything had seemed so perfect a couple of hours ago, when there was still a buzz in your system and you were surrounded by people that made you happy… Now, it was sort of disgusting how much trash and mess was spread around your apartment.

Maybe it was a good thing Draco was asleep – he might have thrown a fit if he saw your apartment in this state.

You spend about thirty minutes just vanishing trash, and periodically stopping to scrub at something on a surface or on the floor. You get carried away when you find a stack of pictures your friends had taken, dressed in the Muggle decorations you had gotten from one of those party supply stores. They had been a big hit within your group, and had gotten plenty of use throughout the night… if the stains on them were any indication. You open a drawer and place the pictures in there so they don’t accidentally get thrown away or vanished, making a mental note to come back and look at them later.

It’s so quiet that, compared to earlier, it feels sort of wrong, like there’s meant to be some gigantic party happening inside of your apartment. You miss the company, the smells, the light, the noise. You remember standing by the door, barefoot and tired, swaying as you held the door open for the people leaving. The last to go had been your and Draco’s close friends. Begrudging goodbyes and a “we’ll see you soon, right?” whispered into your shoulder as you embraced. When you had closed the door after the final person left, you stood there and looked around at your flat: it was a mess, and the music was still playing, but it was quieter than before. Draco stood across from you, idling, staring at something on the wall, looking tired. His hair was sticking up in the back, assumedly from where he had run his hands through it and messed with the gel. His shoulders slumped forward slightly, and just like you, he was swaying. You both were, at least, tipsy and exhausted from everything you did that day.

You had spent the better part of the day decorating for the party, and making sure the catering was accounted for. You had spent hours hanging up streamers, putting up banners and decorations, and blowing up balloons. It had been fun, watching Draco try to wrap his head around how he wanted everything to look (you must have moved the “Happy New Year’s” banner about five times before he was happy with it). You were happy for his opinion in the end, as you thought everything looked perfect. Your guests seemed like they enjoyed it too, with various comments on the decor and the atmosphere. Draco was practically glowing while receiving all the praise.

After everyone had left, he grabbed your hand and led you to the bedroom, a small, yet tired smile on his face. The bed was made, the room smelled lovely (unlike the rest of your flat), and your pajamas were laid out already. You looked at him, wondering when he had made the time to do this while you had both been so busy. You melt as you watch him pick up his own pajamas and walk away to change into them: black and silver silk pajamas, his favorite, and oddly on theme. He had gotten you both matching silk pajamas, though yours were in your favorite colors. He had given them to you on Christmas, wrapped in a box, topped with a bow. You had hugged him tightly and changed into them immediately, spending the rest of Christmas in matching pajamas, cuddled together on your couch as you watched the snow fall past your windows.

It was still snowing, though it was harder to see due to the fact that it was dark outside. You put down the broom you had picked up somewhere along the way and make your way over to the window, mesmerized by its beauty. The streets were quiet, and sometimes a piece of confetti or a streamer would blow past, evidence of other celebrations that had happened alongside your own. You wondered if the street had always been this quiet, or if the intense music of your own party drowned out the noise of other celebrations. The music had been quite loud.

You place a hand against the glass and the cold is relaxing against your fingertips, despite the way it makes you wince when you first feel it. The inside of your flat is warm, though sometimes you can still feel the coldness from outside, particularly near the front door and the windows.

You’re pulled out of your reverie when you feel a presence by your side, the corners of your mouth lifting in pleasant surprise when you notice a familiar set of grey eyes. You turn to him immediately, “I hope I didn’t wake you.” Your voice is quiet, though not quiet enough to be counted as a whisper. Draco looks tired, his eyes still squinting slightly, but he smiles back at you.

“You missing from our bed did wake me up.” He looks out the window as well, watching the snow. “Cleaning could have waited for the morning.”

You nod at his words, following his eyes to the window. The world outside seemed to be asleep itself, quiet and dark. None of the other flats had their lights on. “Perhaps.”

“I cannot say I am surprised.” His smile is fond as he says this, and his hand raises to hold the one you have pressed to the window. “I knew what you were up to as soon as I woke up alone.”

“I didn’t want to-”

“You didn’t want to wake me up, I know.” He pries your fingers from the window so that you may intertwine yours, the warmth of his hand cancelling out the coldness of the window. “You must know I want to help you.”

“I do.” You turn completely to him, your intertwined fingers joining you together. Your smile is soft as you gaze at him: his hair is messed up, unruly and spiked up. There are bags under his eyes and his blinks are slow. He’s tired, yet he’s here, standing with you. “But I also know you need your beauty sleep.”

He rolls his eyes at that, his grip tightening slightly. “You need as much rest as you can get, too. It didn’t need to be cleaned the moment everyone stepped out of the place.” He looks back towards your bedroom, a sense of longing coming from him.

“Do you want to go back to bed?”

He doesn’t answer as he looks back at you, but he steps back. You step forward, being dragged along by his hand. You don’t resist, letting him drag you back to bed. You flick the light switch on your way out, the lights turning out and casting you both in darkness. The moon lights up the room as you step out of it, and back into the familiarity of your bedroom. The bed isn’t made, the blankets messed up from where Draco had gotten out of it. He stops when you’re both in front of the bed, and you shake your head slightly at him.

You are tired, you have to admit, you’d barely slept at all before you had gotten up to clean. The allure of Draco and your warm bed are tempting you, and it doesn’t take too long for you to give in. You let him lead you the rest of the way into bed.

You’re curled up into his side, with an arm slung lazily over him as you press a kiss into his cheek. This is how you spent most of your nights, intertwined and comforted. He kisses your forehead, running a hand up and down your back. The bed is warm and the sun hasn’t even begun to make its way into the sky. Everything is quiet, and as you settle in for the morning, you listen to Draco breathe.

“Can I tell you something?” He asks into the silence, and you move your head up to look at him.

You smile up at him, a bigger smile than you’re sure is warranted at around 6 am, and nod. “Anything,” you whisper, “anything you want, anytime.”

He’s quiet for a little while, and you begin to wonder if he’ll speak at all. You know he’s still awake because his hand is still stroking your back, but he makes no move to talk. You don’t push him, opting to embrace his warmth and his presence.

He takes a deep breath and that brings your attention back to him.

“I love you.”

Your heart stops, or maybe it stutters, in your chest. You’re suddenly wide awake, and you feel his hand stop moving. You push yourself up to look at him fully, your eyes wide as you look down at where he still lays. He’s looking right back at you, his eyes reflecting the moonlight that hits the back of your head. He looks beautiful like this, staring up at you as if you’re a diamond among the stars in the sky. You press down on his chest, right where his heart is. “I love you too.”

He sits up too, and his smile is radiant. His hand moves to hold your hand over his heart, and then he moves forward to kiss you. His other hand holds your face, and when you pull back, his eyes are almost closed, yet he’s still looking at you with apparent fondness. He repeats it.

“I love you.”

Word Count: 2939

[zyonsay]

News & Rules

Masterlist | Requests closed

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About my works | Guide to the format of my works

News: Recent and Upcoming

What's new?

->Snowangels SIMON 'GHOST' RILEY

->Snowfall SIMON 'GHOST' RILEY

->Wildfire/General Update

->Parisienne im Mund SKI AGGU

Coming soon!

->Wildfire Rewrite

->Snow oneshot series SIMON 'GHOST' RILEY

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Gender or Pronouns of the reader

(If necessary also the assigned sex of reader)

Plot/Idea: Please try to be as elaborate as possible in this part. I am a creative person, but it helps greatly if you propose a well described idea instead of just an umbrella term.

Readers Gender

I write for Male and Genderneutral readers. If you request a female reader i will either refuse to write your request or i will just write a genderneutral reader, so you can still read it comfortably. Here's an explanation as to why.

So, now that we talked about Gender, let's talk about Sex: I write for both amab and afab readers. Just specify what you want if it has any significance in the story!

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Setting boundaries in the writing community is important and prevents uncomfortable situations.

Fem-aligned people may read my works but not f3tishize my works (at least the ones targeting a male audience)

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If you request any of the above, i will ignore you.

[yorutsuki]

「 ✦ Hogwarts' Archon Pt. 1 ✦ 」 Headcannons

↳ Simple: You were brought into Hogwarts. Your origin is Teyvat yet somehow you were summoned into this...other world? Sheesh.

Tags:

──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────

You didn't even know how you ended up here.

Just a week ago you were fighting off some high ranked fatui, though in midst of battle you were struct by one of them.

Within the week you took the time to figure out where the hell you were.

No longer were there fields of endless grass and hills, mountains and clear skies—there was only dreadful dull colors, metals and woods, and dark skies.

During your forced stay, you found out that everyone was visionless and your norms such as weapons, guilds and such's use were non-existant.

On the bright side you didn't need to worry about demons or fatui.

That was until you found out about wizardy and witchy magic and the news about this hotshot boy who survived a lethal attack

(For Morax's sake, you js wanted to be sent back 💀🙏)

After a few weeks more, you recieved a letter via..owl?? Opening it you found some gray powder, which you later learn is traveling dust known as floo powder. (Now who in Morax's green earth named that sh-)

It took a few hours to try getting everything on the list, and while doing so ran into a giant fat man, you couldn't defer between the two and the 'boy who lived'. (Honestly you didn't understand why it was such a big deal, he lived, hooray?)

Finally at the last shop, you picked up a wand, unfortunately non of them came to you so you just settled with a random stick you found on the ground, and with a little help from your divine archon powers, you managed to make it look like a wand.

You were thankful you blended in with 11-12 year olds as being an archon allows you to shape shift. (It was a bit weird but hey, you're not tied to Celestia anymore so free will 🦅)

Getting on the train you were greeted with a glare from a greasy platinum haired boy and his goons. He said something about his name being Drago Melatone or something.

On the train ride, you sat in a compartment away from people, during that time you reminisced about your life, slowly missing it. You started to hate it here — it was different...too different.

Finally arriving, you were greeted with the same man you bumped into from before at the shops, who guided you all to some boats.

You were a bit surprised of them moving on they're own but it wasn't anything too special. (You may or may not have used some power to quicken up the boat)

The closer you neared to the school, the more in aw of a trance you were in. The place looked regal and magical, you were impressed with it's designing.

Finally arriving at the castle, you were guided flights of stairs before a elderly woman in fine deep green velvet robes stood before you all, starting to explain houses and how they worked.

you found it amusing how someone picked up a frog from the front, earning a look from the professor.

Afterwards, the greasy boy from the train started yapping on who you found to be a Weasley and the chosen one before being tapped by the professor.

The inside dining hall was quite magical, floating candles and starry skies above.

"It's not real you see...-" And thats when you blanked out, not wanting to ruin the magic.

A old wizard with a long fluffy beard gave a speech, introducing Filch, a care taker who looked quite the opposite.

Finally it was sorting time, first was the same girl from a few moments ago who you learned to be Hermoine Granger, then Draco Molfoy, Susan Bones, Ron Weasely, Harry Potter and then you.

"Hmm..not quite from here..?" "intelligent, resourceful and quiet, yet courageous but mindful."

"I must say, you are a tricky one Ms. (L/n)...Gryffendor!"

This is one hell of a school...

.

.

.

A/N: Holy sheez, I haven't posted in MONTHS! But don't worry, i'm getting my lick back 🙏, and this is one of the many random thoughts.

[anonymouse1312437]

Fanfiction

I am curious as to how many people would want like a real storyline for smut. Is anyone interested in that? It doesn't matter the person or character but, I would be happy to put something together.

Also how would you feel about a song directed fanfiction story?

Like for example:

Scene: Garden restraunt

Song: Those Eyes by New West

Person/Character: (Whoever is decided on)

Like is that something anyone would be interested in. Maybe even small playlist?

Could be anything. Smut, Angst, Breakup, First meet, Love at first sight, The end of a friendship/relationship.

I am also not limiting the people or characters. You could ask for some mythical creature from harry potter for all I care. I just want something to write that would interest more people.

[peaxhxhair]

Harry Potter - MASTERLIST

Navigation

Harry Potter

Birthday gifts - Celebrating Harry's birthday

Hermione Granger

Coming Soon!

Ron Weasley

Coming Soon!

Fred (f) & George (g) Weasley

(F) Tired - Some people struggle to wake up so early in the morning.

Draco Malfoy

Coming Soon!

[cash-111]

I’ve always liked the idea of McGonagall’s dance lessons: the lingering embarrassment, the bit of hesitance when learning how to approach the other, the fun (for the skilled, frustration for the others) it eventually would all subside in.

But I’d imagine your favorite slytherin boy wouldn’t really have this problem, he’d already been trained by his family years prior, so he knew what he was doing. Still, he would find his palms sweating from the possibility he’d get to dance with the person he wanted to with the most.

“Alright, everyone to their feet, up! up!” McGonagall’s voice would resonate loudly in the room to overwhelm the propagated chatter.

She would’ve had just finished demonstrating the right steps with an unlucky fellow, and would’ve now been ushering people together to start practicing for the imminent occurrence, the Yule Ball.

You too would find yourself suddenly being pushed into someone, colliding against a firm chest, and big warm hands would find your waist to stabilize you.

“I’m so sorr-“ your words would slur and die down as you’d look up and meet his eyes. His beautiful, intense eyes. Boring down on you.

There’d be a breathless silence, the air would hang in between you two, each scouring the other’s face as realization would set in.

He’d try to recompose himself, not to show you how much this meant to him, and offer you a hand in the way McGonagall had directed. (With either a cheeky grin or a curt stare, to mask his own feelings)

You’d, somewhat timidly, accept, smiling meekly, whilst trying to sedate the butterflies in your stomach and beating heart. ‘This means nothing, it’s just practice’ you’d repeat in a mantra as he’d start to put you in position, your bodies close together.

Eventually the music would start, and with his expert leading you’d quickly catch on, and you’d eventually both find yourselves melting into each other and savoring the experience as the music would fill your ears and your hearts.

In the end, neither of you would be able to negate the effects of such a magical moment, a pink flush adorning your faces, not just from the physical activity.

He’d find himself unconsciously brushing a loose strand of hair from your face, the words escaping him before he could process.

“How about we do this again at the real thing?”

You’d smile widely, beaming up and immediately responding, before his approaching dread of realization would make him retract his proposal.

“I’d love to go to the ball with you.”

And so you would.

[hp-hcs]

🄼🄰🅂🅃🄴🅁🄻🄸🅂🅃

male, nonbinary, & gender-neutral readers x hp characters

NOT UP TO DATE!!!

requests: open! (RULES)

join the taglist!

Do you hate it when you find a fic that says “x reader” only for it to have she/her pronouns, as if it’s some inherent rule that only fem people read fanfiction? WELL DO I HAVE A BLOG FOR YOU.

.・。.・゜✭・. ☾ ⋆*・。.・゜✭・.

am i reorganizing my masterlist for the 10,000th time? yep! i’ve finally written enough that i need to break this down into tinier masterlists!

key: 🚹 = male reader ⚧️ = nonbinary reader 🚻 = gender-neutral reader

☣️ = yandere tw 💥 = violence tw ‼️ = homophobia/transphobia tw 🩸 = blood/gore tw 🧨 = implied sexual content/sexual innuendos ❤️‍🔥 = smut tw

.・。.・゜✭・. ☾ ⋆*・。✭・. .・。✭・. ☾ ⋆*・。✭・.

mattheo riddle masterlist

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theodore nott masterlist

.・。.・゜✭・. ☾ ⋆*・。✭・. .・。✭・. ☾ ⋆*・。✭・.

polyamorous/non-monogamous masterlist

.・。.・゜✭・. ☾ ⋆*・。✭・. .・。✭・. ☾ ⋆*・。✭・.

“Splinched” masterlist • theodore nott 🚹🩸

.・。.・゜✭・. ☾ ⋆*・。✭・. .・。✭・. ☾ ⋆*・。✭・.

“Pansy’s Brother” masterlist • theodore nott 🚹 ☣️ 💥

.・。.・゜✭・. ☾ ⋆*・。✭・. .・。✭・. ☾ ⋆*・。✭・.

“lipstick” masterlist • enzo berkshire and draco malfoy 🚻 ☣️ ❤️‍🔥

.・。.・゜✭・. ☾ ⋆*・。✭・. .・。✭・. ☾ ⋆*・。✭・.

“watercolors” masterlist • tom riddle 🚹

.・。.・゜✭・. ☾ ⋆*・。✭・. .・。✭・. ☾ ⋆*・。✭・.

“The Doll” masterlist • enzo berkshire, regulus black, draco malfoy, theodore nott, mattheo riddle, and blaise zabini 🚻 💥

.・。.・゜✭・. ☾ ⋆*・。✭・. .・。✭・. ☾ ⋆*・。✭・.

“phoenix tears” masterlist • riddle brothers 🚹 ‼️💥🩸

.・。.・゜✭・. ☾ ⋆*・。✭・. .・。✭・. ☾ ⋆*・。✭・.

draco malfoy:

the audacity, i can’t believe this 🚹

.・。.・゜✭・. ☾ ⋆*・。✭・. .・。✭・. ☾ ⋆*・。✭・.

enzo berkshire:

shut up 🚹☣️❤️‍🔥

.・。.・゜✭・. ☾ ⋆*・。✭・. .・。✭・. ☾ ⋆*・。✭・.

ron weasley:

love triangle 🚹

.・。.・゜✭・. ☾ ⋆*・。✭・. .・。✭・. ☾ ⋆*・。✭・.

neville longbottom:

mr. green thumb 🚻

.・。.・゜✭・. ☾ ⋆*・。✭・. .・。✭・. ☾ ⋆*・。✭・.

weasley twins:

common room confessions 🚹

.・。.・゜✭・. ☾ ⋆*・。✭・. .・。✭・. ☾ ⋆*・。✭・.

blaise zabini:

uniforms ⚧️

fiendfyre 🚹

yandere! blaise zabini headcanons 🚻

.・。.・゜✭・. ☾ ⋆*・。✭・. .・。✭・. ☾ ⋆*・。✭・.

narcissa malfoy:

yandere! mother! headcanons 🚻 ☣️💥

.・。.・゜✭・. ☾ ⋆*・。✭・. .・。✭・. ☾ ⋆*・。✭・.

riddle brothers:

June 🚻

crystal 🚻☣️💥 (referenced attempted S/A tw)

.・。.・゜✭・. ☾ ⋆*・。✭・. .・。✭・. ☾ ⋆*・。✭・.

pansy parkinson:

paralyzer 🚻

.・。.・゜✭・. ☾ ⋆*・。✭・. .・。✭・. ☾ ⋆*・。✭・.

viktor krum:

sibling rivalry 🚻

.・。.・゜✭・. ☾ ⋆*・。✭・. .・。✭・. ☾ ⋆*・。✭・.

slytherin boys hcs:

slytherin boys: gn! muggleborn! reader’s music taste is rather…unexpected 🚻

.・。.・゜✭・. ☾ ⋆*・。.・゜✭・.

random non-reader stories:

key:

❌= implied/referenced child abuse tw 🛑= graphic child abuse tw

“where have you been?”

molly weasley discovers the extent of the dursleys’ abuse ❌

the weasley family and their cinematic adventures

just some funky lil headcanons

Harry Potter and the Amount of Abuse He Suffered at the Hands of His Guardians That Doesn’t Get Mentioned Nearly Enough (aka LET THE POOR BOY BE TRAUMATIZED)

writing prompt: “…jegulus taking in teenage harry after he runs away from the dursleys” 🛑 ❌

untitled tomarry thingy (i just love them okay)

writing prompt: “Touch starved Tom / Voldemort” 🛑 ❌

two thousand words of pure marauders-raise-harry fluff

writing prompt: “regulus black becoming the best seeker ever and harry being his biggest fan and then he finds out that his dad use to date him and he tries (and plots with sirius) to get them back together just so he can call the regulus black his stepdad”

Children Don’t Belong in Cupboards (pt. 1/?)

synopsis: jily comes to the dursleys’ to get their son back 🛑 ❌

.・。.・゜✭・. ☾ ⋆*・。.・゜✭・.

[beautifuldreamlandwonderland]

Got some drafts that I need to complete. Which one would you guys like next?

[agreeeeeeeeeee]

A Madness Most Discreet | G.W.

feat. George Weasley x Malfoy!reader

summary: Draco's older sister arrives at Hogwarts for her final year of schooling, and sets her sights on a certain red-headed trickster.

cw: MDNI 18+, pov switching, making out and adult language, light angst (we're just getting started baby), pining, Malfoy family drama and blood prejudice, confident!reader

series navigation | masterlist | divider by @roseraris

Readers POV

No one knew what to expect when the Daily Prophet reported that you, the eldest child of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, would be attending Hogwarts for your final year of schooling.

You'd been homeschooled your entire life due to your father's protective nature, but with Draco being 16, he felt you'd have adequate enough protection. Not to mention, he had more pressing matters to attend to than your schooling.

You were beside yourself with excitement. Finally, you'd see the outside of the walls of Malfoy Manor. Finally, you'd get to be around people that weren't Death Eaters twice your age, or your little brother. You loved Draco, but come on. A girl's gotta eat.

Draco and Professor McGonagall led you through the ancient corridors to the Great Hall, every portraits eye trained on you. The newcomer, the subject of many whispered conversations that passed by them less than an hour prior. It seemed even the castle itself was buzzing about your arrival.

You wanted desperately to ride the train with Draco, but your father insisted you be transported separately to minimize the scene you’re appearance would cause.

But you were not one for subtlety.

“I’m begging you to not make a scene,” Draco hissed in your ear, his Slytherin robes brushing your calves. You weren’t sure when it happened, but at some point your little brother grew like a weed and now stood a head taller than you.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, D.” You looped your arm through his, leaning your head on his shoulder. You were lying through your teeth, and he knew it.

“Seriously, y/n. There’s enough attention on us already.”

“Salazar’s tits, Draco! Would you relax? Everything will be fine.” The three of you reached the door to the Great Hall, closed firmly and unbelievably high.You swore you heard McGonagall curse under her breath, and Draco’s arm tightened around yours.

It seemed a scene would be made after all, and you fought the smile threatening to curve your lips.

“Ready, Malfoys?” McGonagall asked, turning to look over you both. The look in her eyes, almost pitying, made you hold Draco's arm a bit tighter, smile faltering.

What are they so worried about?

“As we’ll ever be,” Draco sighed.

McGonagall pushed open the doors, revealing the massive dining hall. Every table was filled with students, piles and piles of food over every surface, and more travelling on levitating trays around the room. Candles floated from the ceiling, the night sky clear and shining with stars.

Every head swiveled towards you, and you watched Draco’s demeanor change instantly. Suddenly, he was no longer Draco, but Lucius, and your stomach curdled, souring your excitement over a grand entrance.

Draco pulled you even closer to his side, casting a warning sneer to every eye that lingered too long while you walked towards Albus Dumbledore on the dais.

Your eyes ping-ponged from student to student, taking in the people you’d spend the next eight months with. You fought to keep your face neutral, an elegant mask of in difference like you'd been taught, but your heart pounded with excitement in your chest.

What a thrill to finally be seen.

The Gryffindor table was on your right, the maroon-clad students sizing you up with open disdain, but even that couldn't dampen the thrill tingling under your skin.

You spotted Harry Potter towards the center of the impossibly long table, flanked by some red-headed boy, Weasley, you surmised, and the girl you immediately recognized as Granger. Or so Draco called her, faux venom on his tongue.

His eyes flicked to her as well, and you suppressed the snicker that bubbled on your tongue. Despite your sheltered upbringing, you knew infatuation when you saw it.

You looked back towards the group, all of their eyes trained on you. But, your gaze snagged on one of them in particular, skipping over his twin beside him. His eyes were different, molten amber and sweet like honey, his hair like phoenix feathers, lips slightly parted like he was staring at a Great Wonder, but instead he was staring at you. Your heart gave an excited flutter.

Oh, there you are, a voice in the back of your mind whispered.

George's POV

Of course, George had heard that the eldest Malfoy was joining their class. Everyone had heard about your arrival. And Lucius made a point of telling Arthur shortly after the decision was made, something about ‘Keep those trouble-making twins away from my daughter.’

But, when the doors opened to the Great Hall and you entered on Draco’s arm, George had been stunned silent anyways.

You were beautiful, unfairly so. Which of course you were, you’re a Malfoy for Merlin’s sake. And George found that he couldn’t look away.

As you walked towards Professor Dumbledore, you scanned the tables, a curious glint in your gaze betraying your disinterested expression. George watched your eyes skip over Dean, then Seamus, then Hermoine, Harry, Ron—until your eyes locked on his. The air was sucked from the room, his heart hammering like a cornered hare as your gaze inexplicably held his.

Even as you continued to walk by, your eyes remained locked together, your head turning just slightly. A smirk sharpened your angelic face, and George’s jaw went slack. But then Draco gave you a nudge and you turned forward, a slight skip in your step.

“—pretty fit, eh?” Fred muttered in his ear. “Oi, look at ‘im,” Fred snickered. “George? Geooooorgie?”

Ron snapped his fingers in front of his face and George jolted back to reality. “Merlin, mate. Earth to George.”

“Sorry, what’d ya’ say?” George asked, looking around at his friends. They all stared at him with a mix of amusement and abject horror.

“Said she’s pretty fit,” Fred chuckled, bumping his shoulder.

“She’s a Malfoy,” Hermoine scolded.

“Yeah, so by definition, she’s hot,” Seamus replied.

“Exactly—”

George tuned them out as you were lead up to the stage, the Sorting Hat waiting on a stool to your right. Dumbledore was speaking, but George tuned him out as well, too fixated on the arrogant slant of your smile, the mischief shining from your eyes.

You had trouble written all over you.

McGonagall lifted the Sorting Hat, placing it on your head, and it looked like you were speaking to it. He swore he saw you say 'Gryffindor'. Were you asking to hat to put in a house other than Slytherin?

From the agonized look on Draco's face, it seemed like maybe you were. What Malfoy didn't want to be in Slytherin?

“What is she saying to it?” Harry asked, leaning forward.

Finally, the hat gave a great laugh, rendering the hall silent. “What a mind you have, girl. Clever, cunning, mischievous—a troublesome combination indeed. Seems even a Malfoy can be more than they appear. But even still—” The room held it’s breath, and Draco looked like he might keel over from stress, even paler than usual. You crossed your fingers, eyes screwed shut like you were praying. “Slytherin!” The hat cried, and Draco exhaled, shaking his head at the dramatic pout on your face.

Saints, that pout. George wanted to sink his teeth into it.

“You think she’s going to be as bad as him?” Ginny asked, watching as Draco escorted you down the stairs and over to the roaring Slytherin table. People were throwing themselves out of their seats to make room for you, and you basked in the attention like a benevolent queen returned to her kingdom.

“Worse, probably,” George muttered, forcing himself to look away from you and back to his dinner. Suddenly, he found himself without an appetite.

Reader's POV

Your first three weeks at Hogwarts had been a whirlwind of introductions, lectures, and parties. The world was at your feet, the lower classman wanted to be you, your classmates wanted to fuck you, and everyone else was terrified of you. You never had to wait for a drink, or a meal, and someone was always willing to do your assignments for you, not that you needed it.

It seemed your education under your father far surpassed that of your peers, in certain subjects at least. You could out cast them all with ease, and were looking forward to when dueling would begin.

And, you seemed to see your tall, red-headed boy everywhere you went. You'd learned that his name was George, a Weasley, Draco had sneered when he caught you ogling his tall, lean frame by the lake one afternoon.

You knew how your family felt about families like the Weasley's, but despite your father's best efforts, you couldn't bring yourself to hate someone for something as trivial as what ran through their veins.

An opportunity to speak to George hadn't presented itself until you'd escaped to the library one evening. The attention you initially craved was starting to border on suffocating, and you wanted a few hours of quiet to yourself.

It was a lesson your mother had taught you. You can withstand anything so long as you hold onto yourself.

But when you entered the library and started pursuing the stacks for the Potions section, you found none other than George Weasley stretched out in a window seat, a book in his lap, his head lolled against the window as he snored.

You tiptoed closer, taking in the state of him. He was dressed in trousers and a white button down, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows, his tie a little loose around his throat. His hair was messy, like he'd been running his fingers through it, and his socks were mismatched argyle.

You knew you shouldn't, but you found him extremely endearing, so soft-looking and cozy. Your fingers itched to straighten his tie, smooth his flaming hair.

Instead you lifted the book from his lap and read the cover. “Pyromancy and Magical Combustion: A Spellcaster’s Guide”

George stirred suddenly, his hands flexing around empty air.

You considered backing off and leaving him to rest, but where the fun in that?

“George,” you purred, but he didn't respond. “Geoooorge,” you tried again, poking him in the sternum. He turned his head, freckled nose scrunching. “George, darling. It's time to wake up.” You walked your fingers up his chest and tugged lightly on his red and gold tie.

“Hm?” He mumbled, brown lashes fluttering open to reveal his sleep-trodden, amber eyes. They locked on your face, widening for a second before he jolted upright. “Y/n? Merlin, where the fuck—”

“It’s alright, love,” you shushed him, using deft fingers to straighten his tie and fix his collar. “You're in the library, sleeping like an angel. Lucky it was me that found you and not Pince.” You glanced up at him, finding his jaw a little slack, his eyes round as he stared at you in shock.

You always were a little too bold for your own good. Reckless in the pursuit of what you wanted.

“I, uh, yeah. Lucky me.” He swiped a hand through his hair. “Sleeping like an angel, hm?” He asked, regaining some of that cheeky charm you’d witnessed from afar over the last few weeks. A trait that only piqued your interest further.

“You looked awfully sweet to me,” you said, batting your lashes.

“Said the rattlesnake to the kitten,” he said, a teasing lilt in his voice.

“Rattlesnake?” You scoffed, feigning hurt with a hand over your heart. “I don't bite!”

“I don't believe that for a second, Malfoy.” His eyes skimmed over your face, down to your lips.

You flashed said fangs, and he smiled back.

“Why are you in the library?” He asked, glancing over your shoulder. “Alone? I haven't seen you without Draco or one of his goons since you arrived.”

You rolled your eyes. Draco had assigned Theo Nott and Blaise Zabini to watch over you when he couldn't, and it took a concerted effort to evade them and come here. “Was getting a little tired of the entourage,” you admitted.

“A Malfoy? Tired of attention?” He tapped a finger on your forehead, featherlight. “I think you might be broken.”

“You're one to talk, Mr. Weasley. Where’s your twin? Recently severed, are we?”

He chuckled, the sound low and honey sweet. “Hufflepuff party.”

“And you didn't go, because…? You love pyromancy so much?” You held up the book, teasing him.

“Wasn't in the mood to socialize,” he said, shrugging a shoulder.

“Well, George, it seems we may have more in common than we realized.”

His eyes warmed. “Seems so.”

“Could you help me find the Potions section?” You asked, cocking a thumb over your shoulder. “Draco never gave me a tour…”

George popped up, revealing his full height and sending you back a step, and your mouth filled with a saliva. The top of your head barely skimmed his collar bone, his limbs long and lean.

He offered you his elbow. “Right this way, Ms. Malfoy.”

You rested your hand on his bicep, the burgeoning heat between you flaring brightly at even the smallest contact, and he lead you through the stacks.

He was warm and steady beside you, his cologne fresh and clean smelling, his muscles flexing slightly as he steered you. Butterflies stirred in your stomach, pleased that your instinct when you spotted him had been correct.

He was a delight. Handsome, sweet, clever. A loyal Gryffindor, the opposite of all the other pricks that threw themselves at you.

When you arrived at the clearly labeled Potions section, you turned to face him. “You’re in my Potions class, right? Are you any good?” You asked, wanting to delay his departure.

“Pretty good, yeah. Why? Need a tutor?” He quirked an eyebrow, his voice coming out a little too fast to be ready as anything but eager.

“If you've got the time.” You shrugged. “I wouldn't want to keep you.”

“Nonsense. I'm happy to be of service,” he said, winking at you, sending a fizz of desire pulsing through your blood.

George gathered the books you needed and led you to a secluded table at the back of the library, recognizing the risk of anyone seeing the two of you together, even doing something as simple as studying.

“So, what's the trouble with Potions?” He asked once you were settled in, books splayed around the table.

“My father didn't see the value in it, and it's not like we have a laboratory in the Manor,” you said, dipping your quill in your ink.

“So you were homeschooled your entire life?” George folded his arms against the table, leaning a bit closer. “Why?”

You shrugged, avoiding his gaze. “My father had his reasons.” It was a practiced answer, a safe one, and it tasted bitter on your tongue. “He thought it wasn't safe,” you added, wanting to assuage the guilty feeling.

“Not safe?” George scoffed. “Hogwarts is the safest place in the world.

“Depends on who your enemies are,” you said, finally meeting his eyes.

“And who are you enemies?” He asked, sitting back on his chair.

You brushed the soft tail of your quill over you lips, mulling over your response. “Well, George. I suppose you are.”

“That's a shame, here I thought I was just your Potions tutor.”

You snorted, caught off guard by his joking. “Should be fine, as long as we aren't friends,” you chuckled.

“Definitely not friends.” He smiled. “Now, the thing about Beezors…”

George's POV

George watched you pour over your notes, brow furrowed slightly in concentration, and you did that god-forsaken fucking thing with your quill again.

Dragged the feather over your lips with the barest touch, the movement unconscious, and it made his heart seize every single fucking time.

He could hardly believe he was sitting across from you, walking through the curriculum you needed for the first Potions exam in two weeks. You'd missed a lot being homeschooled, but we're clearly incredibly bright, and you picked everything up with ease that rivaled Hermione.

He'd been fascinated by you from the moment you walked into the Great Hall, and managed to snag his eye every time you entered a room there after. You occupied his mind too, so much so he was already behind in Charms, but he wasn't even quite ready to admit that to himself yet.

You were a Malfoy, after all. It didn't matter that you were interesting, or clever, or beautiful. You were a Malfoy. End of story.

He should get up and walk away right now.

What right did you have asking him for help? You had everything. And you were smart enough to do this on your own. You didn't need him. And he shouldn't want you.

Oh, Merlin. And he didn't want you….right?

He couldn't. He barely knew you beyond your reputation and the whispers he'd gathered in the halls, but it felt like he did. Like he's known you for ages, the quiet between you comfortable despite his racing thoughts.

But no, surely not. He didn't want you. Nope.

You dragged you quill against your lips again, sighing softly, and he nearly melted to the floor like a lit candle.

Fuck. He wanted you.

“George?” You called, waving a hand in front of his face, and he jolted back to the present. “Dozing off again?” You teased, voice sweet as treacle.

“No, was just, ah, trying to remember what we covered fourth year,” he said, rubbing the back of his head and hoping you didn't catch the flush in his cheeks.

But based on the twinkle in your eye, you certainly did.

“Maybe we can cover it tomorrow?” You asked, closing your book and setting down your quill. “I'm not sure I can absorb anything else tonight—” a soft yawn punctuated your words, sweet as a lamb, and George had to look away so he didn't memorize the exact shade of your tongue.

Definitely don't meet up with her tomorrow. “Yeah, same spot?” He asked, gathering his things as well.

“It's a date.” You winked, and flitted between the stacks, disappearing from his sight.

George slumped back onto his seat, scrubbing a hand over his face.

When he showed up ten minutes early to the library the following day, he'd never felt more pathetic in his life.

All day, he told himself he wasn't going to go. That he was going to leave you hanging and end this before it got started. Whatever this was.

He was betraying his family by sitting in this chair, guilt churning and acrid in his gut. They would be so disappointed him. He could already hear his mother in his mind: you're a spineless fool.

And it was the truth. He'd lied to Fred and Ron about what he was doing, and snuck past Hermione and Harry who were studying by the entrance. He was lying to and hiding from the people he loved most, all for a Malfoy.

He was about to get up from his seat when you came breezing around the corner, a cauldron in your arms. He continued to rise but instead of fleeing, he took the cauldron from you with a chastising tsk.

“Stealing from Snape, are we, rattlesnake?” He set the cauldron on the table, turning back to you.

“I didn't steal it!” You argued.

He raised an eyebrow, an amused smirk lifting the corner of his mouth.

“I'm going to bring it back later.” You rolled your eyes and dumped your bag onto the table, potions and herbs rolling out. “How else am I supposed to learn about potions?”

He opened his mouth, then closed it again. Merlin, you were adorable. Pink cheeked from carrying everything, your hair windswept, eyes shining with that rebellious light. He was helpless, drawn to it like a moth.

“Just don't blow my eyebrows off,” he grumbled.

“No promises,” you teased back.

The two of you toiled the rest of the evening away over the cauldron, successfully making two of the four potions Snape had covered this semester.

You stood shoulder to shoulder over the bubbling green liquid, and he glanced down at you, at the victorious little grin on your face, and he felt his insides twist.

He reached to grab a bundle of herbs on your right, and you turned to grab an ingredient on his left, and your bodies bumped together in the middle, faces nearly colliding.

“S-shit, sorry,” he said, pretending he couldn't smell the expensive perfume on your skin. Like it wasn't rotting his brain from the inside out.

“Sorry for what?” You asked, leaning the rest of the way to get your ingredient, apparently completely unbothered by your chest pressed up against his, your face brushing his shoulder.

“Uh, I—”

“So tense, Georgie,” you murmured, reaching a hand up to squeeze at his flexed bicep. “I don't bite, remember?”

Every scrap of attention zeroed in on your hand touching his arm, his heart thundering in his chest. Georgie. The nickname rattled around in his empty mind. Georgie. Georgie. Georgie.

“I'll try,” he rasped, clearing his throat.

An hour later and you finished the third Potion, the sun long ago set over the horizon. It wouldn't be long before Pince came looking for stragglers, and you'd be booted from the library.

George glanced over at you, your cheek propped against your palm, lashes fluttering as your lids slid closed. Something warm bloomed in his chest watching you doze, peaceful and untroubled, trusting him enough to let your guard down so completely.

As quietly as he could, he picked up his things and yours, and discarded the potion. Carefully, he tucked the cauldron behind one of the the shelves for your next study session so you wouldn't have to lug it back and forth, vowing to take the fall if Snape caught on.

“Rattlesnake,” he cooed, nudging your shoulder. “C’mon, we gotta get out of here.”

You groaned, nose wrinkling before you blinked open your eyes at him. A sleepy smile stretched across your face, and his knees turned to jelly. He wanted to kiss you so badly it stole his breath.

“Sorry, Georgie,” you mumbled, covering your mouth when you yawned.

“All good, love,” he replied, handing you your things. Shit, he cursed himself. Love had just rolled off his tongue, easy as breathing.

But you only smiled at him, slinging your bag over your shoulder and getting to your feet. “Thanks for your help,” you said. “Do you think you'll have time to meet next week?”

Quidditch matches started next week, eating into the little bit of free time he had. But he'd figure it out.

“Could probably meet Monday after practice, if you'd like,” he said, shouldering his own bag.

“Monday would be great.” You rose up onto your toes to peck his cheek. “See you then!” You tossed over your shoulder as you walked away, leaving him a flustered mess.

He rubbed his hand over his cheek, the place your lips brushed his skin still tingling, and sighed. How could he stay away from you? Why should he? Because of your last name?

It was the Malfoy’s job to be stuck up and judgemental, not his. And you seemed to be nothing like them…

Then, something occured to him. A thought so upsetting it punched the air out of his chest and he dropped back down onto his chair.

What if this was a trick?

What if this was a way for the Malfoy's to get close to his family? To get them to let their guards down? What if you were just a beautiful Trojan Horse?

He shook his head, trying to shake the dark thoughts loose. You couldn't be, not with those bright eyes and rebellious smile. He couldn't imagine you being so cruel. But then again…you were a Malfoy.

How could he know for sure?

He left the library with his head hung low, doubts swirling in his mind like a storm, making his stomach churn, but one stood clearer than the rest. Disruptive as a strike of lightning.

Was it worth the risk?

Reader's POV

Your connection with George deepened over those few study sessions, and it seemed he was just as into you as you were him. From the knocked together knees, to his fingers brushing against yours when he passed over an ingredient or book, to his eyes lingering on you over the cauldron, the signs were plentiful.

But Monday night, he'd been different.

He was acting strange the entire study session, watching you closely, giving clipped, one or two word answers. His shoulders seemed almost heavy, burdened.

At first, you chalked it up to him being tired after practice, but instinctively, you knew it had something to do with you.

Unable to bear it any longer, you turned to him after shelving your books. “Is something wrong, George?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest.

He froze in place, refusing to meet your eyes. Then, something seemed to give way in his expression, a loaded sigh loosing from his chest. “I'm not sure we should keep doing this,” he admitted, sounding almost pained. “Your family would have a conniption, as would mine.”

You let your arms fall to your sides. It was only a matter of time before this came up, you supposed. But, you were prepared for it. “And?” You asked, risking a step closer. “I'm not sure about you…” you placed a hand on his chest, feeling his heart race, his muscles tense under your touch. But he didn't pull away. “But I make my own decisions.”

He placed his hand over yours. “You could have anyone you want. So, why me? What's in it for you?”

You recoiled slightly, removing your hand from him and taking a step back. “You think I have some ulterior motive.” It wasn't a question, nor was it a shock. Everyone always assumed you did everything with malicious intent. You just thought maybe George saw you differently.

George's eyes softened, sensing your hurt, but he didn't back away from his claim. “I think your father has it out for my little brother and his best friends, and I won't put them in danger just because I want to kiss a girl.”

Your heart gave a jilted pang, confusion making your brows furrow. You knew he was being completely honest. He wanted to kiss you, but he was afraid of what the consequences might be. Consequences you hadn't even really considered.

George had every reason to be skeptical of you. But your only ulterior motive was getting closer to him, and maybe getting under your father's skin a little should he ever find out.

“I don't have an ulterior motive, George. Nor do I take orders from anyone, least of all my father. I have no ill will towards your family, and I'm sorry that mine has treated you all so poorly.”

He was quiet for a moment. “Swear it,” he said, holding up his pinky.

You wrapped your pinky around his. “I swear.”

His eyes searched your face and you saw the moment he decided he trusted you, eyes melting like honey. "I trust you, rattlesnake." A smirk broke through his serious expression. “Am I going to regret it?”

Relief ballooned in your chest. “In the best way,” you purred, bringing his pinky up your lips and brushing a kiss across his knuckle.

His pupils dilated, breath hitching in his chest. Then you were moving, his body pressing you backwards against the bookshelf, dropping your pinky to brace your hips with both hands.

“You're awfully confident,” he whispered in your ear, making your stomach flutter with anticipation.

You hadn't felt this excited in far too long, his touch, his voice as tempting as the finest wine.

“Are you going to find out why? Or keep prattling on?”

With a final exhale, he crashed his mouth to yours, his lips supple and insistent, your toes instantly curling in your shoes. You opened up for him and he licked into your mouth with firm strokes, deliberate and claiming. He tasted like lemon drops and black tea, and you were desperate for more of it.

Every other kiss you'd had felt lifeless and disappointing, empty and wet in the worst way. But this, the fervid caress of his searching tongue, felt like wildfire: burning, consuming, ravenous.

“George,” you gasped when his lips traveled down your neck, the tip of his nose a cold contrast to the heat of his mouth.

He nipped at your pulse, sucking the skin between his teeth to leave a mark.

“George!” You giggled, pulling on his hair to stop him.

“Y/n,” he hummed, smiling at you. His lips were puffy and slicked with spit, his eyes sparkling.

Two could play at that game.

You leaned forward, licking a long stripe from the hollow of his throat, over his Adams apple, to the underside of his chin.

“Shit.” His hands tightened on your waist, his head falling back to give you more access. You bit down, laving your tongue over his fevered skin, and his let out a low groan. “You little liar,” he gruffed, one of his hands coming up to tangle in your hair. “You do bite.”

You giggled, lapping at the light purple mark you left behind. “I'm not sorry.”

He tipped your head back and reconnected your lips, teasing and light. “You have no reason to be. Bite me all you like, rattlesnake,” he murmured between unhurried pecks.

“Careful what you ask for.” You caught his lower lip between your teeth and tugged gently, earning another groan, before kissing him a final time, soft and lingering.

Hearing the distant chime of the bell tower, you finally broke apart. Curfew. Pince would be around any second.

You brushed your nose against his. “I have to get back to the common room,” you sighed.

“’Course. Wouldn't dream of keeping you from your beauty sleep.” He brought your knuckles to his lips, kissing them lightly. “See you at the match tomorrow?”

You nodded, pulling your still tingling lower lip between your teeth. “Absolutely. I’ll be in green.”

“Ouch,” he chuckled, pretending to wince. “I'll have you in red soon enough.” He released your hand and walked backwards out of the aisle, his eyes trained on you until he was forced to turn the corner, his hand sticking out to wave a final goodbye as he disappeared.

You placed a hand over your thundering heart, a little stunned by your bodies intense reaction him.

What in Salazar's name has you gotten yourself into?

George's POV

George left the library achingly hard and shook to his core, the blood that hadn't traveled south roaring in his ears.

That was the singularly most earth-shattering kiss of his life. And it was with the absolute last person he should be kissing.

George wasn't the type to get physical so quickly after meeting someone, but you were irresistible. And seemed to want him as badly as he wanted you, a fact he struggled to get his head around.

And even though he knew he should, he couldn't bring himself to regret a second of it. In fact, he was already anxiously awaiting the match tomorrow, debating whether or not he could squeeze in some extra practice at dawn while he walked back to his dorm.

As soon as he opened the door, he found his brother, Ron, Harry, Seamus, and Neville sitting up in their beds, and stopped short.

“Hey George!” Harry called, waving.

“What’s the matter with you?” Fred asked, clocking his trepidation immediately.

George had to fight to urge to clap a hand over the mark you’d left on his neck. Would they smell your perfume on his skin?

“Nothing? Why?” He asked, heading towards his trunk.

Fred eyed him suspiciously. “Where have you been?”

“Library,” George answered, a little too quick.

Fred studied him a moment longer, then snapped his fingers, a huge grin on his face. “You were with a girl!”

The rest of the boys oooooh’d, and George felt his cheeks heat.

“Yeah, right. You know me, drowning in babes,” he argued, throwing a towel and his pajamas over his shoulder. “I'm going to take a shower.”

“Ah, so just a snog, then?” Seamus teased.

George flipped them off and left for the showers, praying they forget about it by the time he got back.

Reader's POV

“Where the fuck have you been?” Draco snapped, rounding on you as soon as you stepped back into the Slytherin common room.

“Places,” you reply, kissing his cheek before strolling by.

He caught your wrist, tugging you back to him. “Y/n…”

“Draco…” You rolled your eyes. “I was in the library, relax.” You pull away from him and walk towards the girls dormitory, Draco on your heels.

“You’ve been spending a lot of time there,” he accused, an edge of suspicion in his voice. “I would have gone with you, or Blaise or Pansy—”

“I wanted to go alone,” you snapped, stopping so suddenly he bumped into you. A hush fell over the common room. “I don't need a fucking body guard, Draco. You need to back off.”

Draco's nostrils flared, his eyes narrowing. “Stop it,” he hissed. “We can talk about this in private.”

“Why? Is your ‘bad guy' reputation so fragile?”

His jaw flexed, and you could tell your words stung, hurt flickering across his eyes.

You sighed. “D, I can take care of myself,” you murmured.

“But if something happened to you…” his voice softened, trailing off.

“Let me have this,” you asked, taking his hand in both of yours. “Please. I've never had any freedom.”

He squeezed your hands. “I know, I know. Just…let me know where you are, at least? Don't just keep disappearing—what is that?” His eyes hardened, lowering to your neck.

You fought to hold your composure. “What? Oh, the burn? I bumped it with my curling iron this afternoon.” You grazed your fingers over the mark George had left, a flurry of butterflies kicking up in your stomach.

Draco dropped your hand, and guilt soured your fuzzy feelings.

“Who is it?” He growled.

“Draco—”

“You think I can't tell when you're lying?” He grabbed you and lead you into a quieter part of the common room, shadowed from onlookers. “Who was it, y/n?”

You glared daggers at him, squaring your shoulders. “I suggest you mind your own business, or we will have a fucking problem. I will not hesitate to dismantle every brick of this bullshit castle you've built. Clear?”

His jaw ticked, eyes blazing. “This is not a fucking game,” he said after a tense moment of silence.

“Just trust me, okay? I’m fine. We’re fine. Not everything is life and death.”

“Y/n, you aren't listening—”

“No, you aren't listening. We're safe here. And I have my brother to protect me from anything scary, yeah?” You reached up to pinch his cheek, and he scowled, swatting your hand away.

“I can't protect you if I don't know where you are,” he argued.

You sighed. “I'll try and tell you from now on, okay? But you can't be with me 24/7. You need to have a little faith in me.”

“It's not you that I doubt,” he grumbled, but you could tell that you'd won this round.

“Goodnight, Draco. And don't stay up too late, you've got a game tomorrow.” You poked him hard in the chest, and he rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah. Goodnight, sister.” He waved you off and you ascended the stairs to the girls dorm, leaving him to his friends, and you to toss and turn in your bed, dreaming of George.

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