#draco x reader angst

[lizlovell]

You're Losing Me

Draco Malfoy x Reader

Angst//part one

part 2

summary:You and Draco grew distant for the first time ever in your relationship of two years.You are getting tired being the only one trying to fix things.

As the third week of December drew closer, the sky became gloomier with cold embracing the Hogwarts and its library became busier with scrambling students stressed out for midterm before the winter break.But this december not only brought cold to your school,but also to your relationship with Draco Malfoy,unfortunately there is no amount of sweater u can wear to recover from it.

''We both are just probably busy with studies,everything will go back to normal once the exams are over''

You try to comfort yourself as you tag your freezing hand inside your coat,remembering how Draco used to always scold you for forgetting gloves.He would hold your cold hands nonetheless,and put them in his coat for extra warmth. You felt a pang in your chest when u find yourself thinking about the memories again. No matter how hard you tried to ignore,you can't shake off the feeling of the way his eyes turned icy whenever he looks at you now.

You haven't talked to Draco properly for a week now. It's either he is studying or you are busy with essays. And in meal time in Great Hall, his cold galres and sharp replies drained your energy to talk at all. But, you can't just let it happen, not when you have spent your past two years falling head over heels for the blonde boy.So,you tried your best to pretend like nothing is wrong,like the physically painful tension between you and him doesn't exist at all. And finally,the exam is over before it snaps.

''Dray..do you wanna go to Hogsmeade together before the Christmas break? ''

His eyes are tense.His brows are frowned noticably. The pale and long fingers are folded far away from yours.

''I don't rlly know. I might have to go home ealier this year''

Lies.

''we can at least spend tonight together right?we can go to astronomy tower and-''

Then it snapped.

''No,Y/N .I don't want to. The exam just finished. Let me live''

It is like an ice bucket has poured over your head. Numb, lost and cold.

''..why'',you sobbed out .

''There is no why.I'm just tired. and we do not have anything to talk anyway,do we? Y/N...we spend our days in same routine:what's still there to talk. stop playing pretend. we both know we need some break''.

You desperately searched for any signs of intimacy in his eyes,any signs, just anything at all,but the silver orbs are colder than ever. A gust of wind rushed through and messed up his blonde locks. You felt a chill run down your spine.

''a break?''

Suddenly,everything start making sense to you. How he had time to run around from parties to parties but not for you.How his laughs faded when you entered the group conversation. How he dropped your hand in the hallway. How he hasn't hold u for a month now. The exam wasn't a cause,it was a mere excuse all along. He was falling out of love.

''not as in break but you know what i mean...'', his tone is soft with guilt lingering around. A heavy sigh left him. He gets closer to you awkwardly. Can this even be called as a hug? Instead of the warmth it used to give, it feels suffocated and forced. You shivered.

"whatever you mean Draco''

You are getting tired being the only one putting effort. Staring at his messy hair and his stressful figure, you've decided you are going to let this go. All these memories you made in two years, all the ''I can't live without you'' talk. All the sneaking between classes,making love. Love? Was it even there.

You dropped his hand. You ignored the uncertain guilt in his eyes. You turned your heel and walked away.

Draco never meant for this sort of thing to happen between two of you. You were precious. The way your soft touch traced along his face to comfort him whenever something worried him. The way you squeezed his hands with a smile whenever he felt the disappointment in himself. You saw things other could not see in him. Your lips brought love and peace he didn't even know exist in him. He didn't realize how he should be grateful for the things until they are gone. Now everything is gone. He thought he might feel free and less responsible once he is away from you. He put all of his stress and the pressure from his family on you. Merlin,he feels the terrible guilt ride in him.

He spent the entire holiday forcing himself to believe he did a right thing and he should feel more satisfied now. He didn't. His days became more terrible. He started to notice how clean his dorm used to be when you were around. He started to find himself subconciously looking for your presence in his sleep. The alone time he thought he needed start to haunt him down.

He waited. He waited for you to come back to him like you always did whenever he pushed you away. But he grew more restless day by day whenever he see you in the hallways and classes unbothered and calm sitting NOT next to him. For once in his life,Draco Malfoy knew he fucked up. He has lost you.

. . . . . . .

part 2

[satansapostle6]

The World Was On Fire And No One Could Save Me But You | D.M.

Warnings: Language. Violence. Mature Themes. Smut.

As Lord Voldemort rises to power, Death Eater legacies such as Draco Malfoy and Elise Selwyn are forced to join their ranks. Desperate to return his family to the Dark Lord’s good graces, Draco Malfoy is forced to fight alongside Elise in a war they never wanted any part in.

Part IV

Part V: The Best Laid Plans

Draco Malfoy had pointed out on numerous occasions that he, emphatically and wholeheartedly, did not trust Elise Selwyn. And, given the evidence he’d carefully compiled upon a clandestine investigation of her character, he had good reason not to. Of course, his informants had also been Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle.

But either way, Draco had only strengthened his resolve upon investigating the new ally in his corner. There was simply no way Elise’s insistence on being a part of his assignment from the Dark Lord personally was for anything other than her own gain.

“If you want my opinion, Elise Selwyn is a lowlife, untrustworthy slag,” Pansy Parkinson said with surprising and almost unwarranted resolve.

“I didn’t,” was simply all Draco had to offer as he pondered the subject.

This offended Pansy, who pouted crossly at the breakfast table, feeling embarrassed to be laughed at by Crabbe and Goyle, of all people.

“I’m serious, Draco. She’s just trying to worm her way into the Dark Lord’s good graces,” the girl remarked.

“Why would she need to do that?” Draco reasoned irritably, not exhibiting patience for her lack of insight. “Her father is his right hand man.”

“Pffft!” his ex-girlfriend spat. “Their family’s irrelevant, and they know it. They’d give anything to be one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight,” she confidently offered a hot take.

“They are in the Sacred Twenty-Eight,” Goyle reminded her, thrilled to be smarter than Pansy for once.

“Will the three of you kindly shut up?” Draco snapped, pulled away from his thoughts. “I can’t bloody well hear myself think.”

Pansy was reluctantly and forcibly silent for the rest of the meal, as further down the breakfast table, Blaise Zabini and Elise Selwyn were convening on their own.

“Do you think Malfoy’s told you his real plan?” Blaise wondered.

“It has to be. He took me to the Room of Requirement; it’s more than likely he’s shown his hand,” Elise said as she gingerly sipped her juice.

“Do you think?” he asked.

“I do. Malfoy doesn’t know what he’s doing; he’s never done anything on his own before,” she remarked as she spotted him anxiously glancing in her direction in her peripherals.

“You’re right about that,” her friend assured her.

“Personally, I think he’s making much ado about nothing; killing an old wizard hardly has to be complicated. He’s vulnerable these days, especially here, and to students,” she murmured in frustration. “I could walk up to that table, cast the Killing Curse, and the Dark Lord would be praising my family name before lunchtime.”

“But you don’t care about any of that,” Blaise suggested with a smile, “Do you?”

“Of course not,” she responded rather concisely. “I care about the right things being set into motion.”

“What things?” he wondered.

They hadn’t gotten to speak much about these sordid affairs over the summer; Elise knew that her father had suspected the Ministry, and other entities, of monitoring their written communication, so she had always been vague at best when it came to the family’s dealings. Elise sighed as she leveled with Blaise, finally admitting her motives in their entirety.

“Blaise, my love. Do you know what my father values more than anything in this world?”

“Power,” he answered simply.

“And?”

“Money?” he guessed.

“Appearances,” she offered, “Aesthetics, if you will. Everything in our home serves its purpose as elevating our family’s status in its function as well as its look; including me. Do you believe I’ll get to choose my own ‘mate’ when the time comes?” she asked derisively.

“I wouldn’t bet on it.”

“Exactly,” Elise reasoned, “Who I’ll marry is more than likely just who will make our family shine. It’ll have to be someone worth something, and almost as important, someone with the right look. Someone who shines. Have any idea who that might be?”

Blaise chuckled as he realized; his mother, Mrs. Zabini, was known for, if nothing else, her captivating beauty that managed to lure seven different wealthy husbands to their mysterious deaths. Blaise, naturally, took after her in many respects.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, love, but you’re hardly who I’d want to marry,” he stated.

“Likewise,” Elise concluded, “Meaning. I have to change my father’s perception of who my ideal life partner is; preferably someone I find attractive enough, and preferably someone in the Dark Lord’s inner circle. So, I have adjustments to make; pawns to move, and whatnot.”

Blaise stopped for a moment, fully in awe as he once again remembered why Elise was his best friend.

“That’s genius,” he said finally. “And kind of scandalous.”

“It’s more like business,” she corrected.

“When, exactly, did you make these calculations?” Blaise wondered.

“After that first night in the Room of Requirement.”

Blaise paused as he took a moment to consider the pathology of his friend.

“Are you telling me you’re thinking of killing the most powerful wizard in the world just so you can shag Malfoy?” he realized.

Blaise wasn’t quite sure if he should be appalled by her morally reprehensible behavior, or just simply impressed.

“Oh, absolutely not,” Elise scoffed in disgust, “I have my priorities. At most, he’s an added bonus.”

*****

“What an artful concoction you’ve cultivated for us today, Miss Selwyn!”

Draco Malfoy couldn’t help but roll his eyes as the Potions Master shamelessly fawned over one of the pupils from his own house.

“Thank you, Professor Slughorn,” Elise said humbly as many in the room watched her.

The ambitious Gryffindor, Hermione Granger, seemed particularly envious.

The older man seemed more sly as he leaned in carefully, lowering his voice to a mischievous murmur as he spoke. “And I trust you’ll be joining us at the dinner party this evening, Miss Selwyn?”

Blaise grinned at his workspace beside her, watching as she nodded politely. “Yes, of course, sir.”

“Good, good! Again, do feel free to invite whoever you’d like. A date, perhaps, eh?” Slughorn teased. “I’d love to see you part of a, shall we say, power couple?”

Elise kindly faked a smile as he disappeared surely to speak to other students invited to the dinner party. Many in the room, especially Pansy Parkinson, were glaring at her enviously, but she was more focused on the one person who seemed to have more on their mind: Draco Malfoy. Jealousy set aside, he seemed fascinated by the prospect of the dinner party, suddenly realizing the opportunity he was being presented with as he watched Elise carefully.

“You’re taking me to that party with you,” a demanding voice hissed over her shoulder as she left the dungeon classroom.

Elise just rolled her eyes as Blaise gave her a knowing look before heading down the corridor without her. Fully aware things were going as planned, she turned back to Draco.

“I most certainly am not doing that.”

“Why not?” he spat unpleasantly.

“Because Kellan’s asked me to bring him,” she explained.

“What, Kellan Byrne?” Draco questioned, instantly thinking of the intellectually challenged seventh-year.

“Yes,” Elise informed him, approving of his apparent bitterness.

“He can escort you without a bicycle helmet on?” the ornery blond demanded.

“I can assure you I don’t want him for his intellectual insight.”

“You’re seriously blowing me off for that brainless hairpiece?” Malfoy demanded with an undeserved sense of indignation.

“Why do you want to go so badly?” she asked him with some curiosity.

“Because. I need to keep an eye on that Potter,” Draco said bitterly, practically spitting out his name, “He’s been particularly suspicious lately, and I don’t like it one bit.”

“So, you need my help spying on Harry Potter?” Elise said quietly.

“I don’t need anything from you,” he stated with a certain stubborn resolve.

“Suit yourself, then,” she concluded, making it a point to walk off.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he followed her aggressively, hardly satisfied with how their conversation was ending.

“To find my brainless hairpiece.”

“Get back here, Selwyn!”

“Why?” Elise asked him, crossing you arms. “I turn the other cheek every time you insult me, or question my loyalty, and to thank me, you make ridiculous demands of me, expecting that I’ll just blindly go along with them. Contrary to what you might believe, I am in no way your subordinate, Malfoy,” she said his name with an unpleasant sharpness.

“Do you always have to be so melodramatic?” Draco scoffed.

“Melodramatic or not, I still have the upper hand,” she reminds him. “So I suggest you think very carefully about how you’d like to speak to me.”

“Okay, fine! I’m sorry,” he said hastily, “Now will you make sure I get into that bloody dinner?”

“Fine. I’ll go tell Kellan, but just know, you’ve cost me a great shag,” Elise sighed, walking off.

Draco just rolled his eyes at her reluctance. “Bloody hell, if it’s that important to you, I’ll shag you myself!”

She just shook her head.

“Like you could keep up.”

Draco looked around, flabbergasted, as he kept trailing after Elise through the corridor.

*****

Just before dinner, Elise emerged from the dormitories to find Draco waiting impatiently for her in the Slytherin common room. Blaise had already left, since Draco told him to go on ahead so that he and Elise could speak freely. Upon seeing Elise, in the elegant blue dress he’d never seen before, he’d almost forgotten that this was the same girl he’d quarreled with in the halls.

“Took you long enough,” he remarked begrudgingly, as his eyes adjusted, viewing her as more of an ally or classmate than just another person.

“Can we be civil, or are you incapable of having a good time?” she said as they headed for the door.

“Tonight isn’t about having a good time,” Draco said. “It’s about figuring out what Potter knows.”

“And how exactly do you expect to find that out tonight?” Elise wondered. “By asking him before dessert?”

“Don’t be an idiot,” Draco muttered.

“Take your own advice.”

They both walked the dungeons, neither of them swimming thrilled about the company they were currently in.

“Once I can get Potter alone, I’m using Legilimency on him. And then I’ll use a Memory Charm to wipe it all away,” Draco presented confidently.

“What?” Elise said softly. “Are you fucking daft?! He’ll see that coming from a mile away!”

“I’ll be able to do it,” Draco reassured her.

“No, you won’t,” she promised. “There’s no way Potter would ever be alone with you.”

Draco was very insistent on following through on his plan.

“I’ll figure it out.”

“I hardly want to be alone with you!” Elise cried.

“I said I can get it done,” he said with finality.

“No, you can’t. You’d be better off slipping him Veritaserum,” she reasoned. “And that’s not a suggestion,” she added, before he could get any ideas.

*****

Later on that night, beyond any reasonable hour where anyone might have to be in the common room, Draco Malfoy crept into the Slytherin common room. Sure enough, his suspicions had been confirmed. He poked his head out in the corridor, able to spot Elise Selwyn. Draco also had no idea what she was actually up to, being in the common room so late at night, but he knew it couldn’t possibly be anything good. Draco tuned into the room as completely as he could, looking in and listening for any possible clues as to what was going on.

He watched as Elise sat down in front of the fireplace, shielding her body with her silk robe as she waited. Sure enough, much to Draco’s surprise, a distinct face appeared in the fire. Draco let out a tiny gasp, watching as Elise, clearly conspiring with someone, whispered a hushed greeting. Draco listened intently, desperate to figure out who the girl could have possibly been conspiring with, and more importantly, what they were discussing. Draco expected all sorts of things, suspecting that perhaps Elise was reporting his progress to her father, or someone, but what he actually heard managed to shock him.

Elise surprisingly wasn’t in cahoots with her father, or any other Selwyn, for that matter. Much to Draco’s indignation, the clear and distinct voice he heard belonged to the one and only Bellatrix Lestrange, his own aunt. Draco’s blood boiled as he hid behind the wall, furious at his mother’s sister for conspiring against him.

“Have you made any progress?” Bellatrix hissed, her face peeking through the smoldering embers.

“We’re working on it,” Elise reported, quickly correcting herself, “I’m working on it,” she assured Bellatrix.

Draco quietly cursed her under his breath, spiting her for going to his own aunt behind his back.

“You need to get a move on!” Bellatrix snapped urgently. “The Dark Lord is impatient! Even I can’t pacify him…”

“I know. And we will,” Elise promised.

“Well, you’d better!” the woman argued back, “Because we’re all dead if you don’t!”

Draco winced, once again reminded of the stakes of his mission from Lord Voldemort.

“Yes,” Elise bowed her head shamefully, “I know… We’ll go to Snape.”

“No!” Bellatrix said immediately, horrified by the idea, “No! You can’t trust him! He’s a rat! You two are better off on your own, mark my words.”

Elise sighed, knowing that there was no convincing her.

“But never mind that,” Bellatrix said carelessly, “There's something else I need to tell you…”

Elise’s brows furrowed with concern.

“What is it?”

“Something important. Something I don’t dare put in writing,” Bellatrix whispered to the girl.

“What is it?” Elise repeated fearfully.

Bellatrix was just about to answer the question, before suddenly stopping. Draco froze, once again ducking behind the wall as Elise turned to look in his direction. He felt as if his heart was beating at a million miles an hour.

“Are you alone?!” Bellatrix demanded.

Draco listened. There was a pause before Elise spoke again.

“I don’t know,” she confessed finally.

“Then it isn’t safe!” Bellatrix growled.

Draco could hear that the conversation seemed to come to an end as Bellatrix’s face disappeared into the fire with a loud crackle. He panted softly, quickly rushing back to his own dorm room before he could be discovered by Elise. After everything he’d overheard, he had no idea what to make of things. Yes, he was angry, livid, irate… Elise had lied to him this entire time. Gone to Bellatrix behind his back. But still, there were more important things at hand. What was it that Bellatrix was about to tell her? Draco needed to know, as soon as possible.

His aunt, he now felt, was a conniving liar, but she was right about one thing; it wasn’t safe. For any of them.

-

Part VI

[weasleys-wizard-writes]

Betrothed Part III

Fred Weasley x Reader x Draco Malfoy

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

Genre: Angst

Content Warnings:

Angst

Death

Forced Marriage

Word Count: 3,516

“Sorry for the mess.”

You muttered softly as you unlocked the door to your apartment, sighing in relief at the sight of it. Your mother had called you foolish when you’d told her that you had no intention of breaking your lease with the landlord, but evidently she hadn’t taken Draco’s odd post war demeanor into account. He would stay anywhere if it kept him from that damned family manor, and that was becoming all the more evident as time inched forward. He had grown significantly less tense the further away you had traveled from his family home, and now that it was confirmed that he could stay elsewhere, that hint of a smile that you had seen during the wedding had returned to his lips once more.

“Nonsense.”

Was Draco’s only response to your previous apology, his words soft and almost uncertain as he turned to look at you, before suddenly dropping his gaze towards the ground, his hand fiddling with the ring on his finger once more.

“Is it uncomfortable?”

You asked suddenly, trying to make up for the heavy silence that was slowly filling your apartment. You didn’t want to feel uncomfortable here, it was all that you had of yourself and your comfort now that you were married, and if that changed you weren’t sure how you could ever remain sane.

Draco’s head snapped up to meet your gaze once more, his brow cocked in confusion as he tried to make sense of the question you had just asked him.

“I beg your pardon?” He asked sincerely, causing you to gesture down to the ring on his left finger.

“The ring,” You murmured, suddenly less sure of yourself as you tried to push forward with the conversation, desperate to keep the silence from eating away at you any longer. All of these months of hearing Fred’s voice so consistently had made you dreadfully afraid of what could be waiting on the other side of the sound he was almost always providing.

“You’ve been playing with it a lot.”

You clarified gently, clearing your throat in hopes that it might make your voice sound less weak as you continued.

“I thought it could be because it’s making you uncomfortable. I’m certainly not used to mine yet.”

You touched your ring finger as you said that last part, feeling the cool emeralds housed within their silver setting against your skin, a reminder of the promise you had made today, and the agreement others had made for you prior to your birth.

Draco nodded in understanding as you clarified before he cleared his own throat, a nervous smile gracing his lips as his gaze returned down to the ring on his finger. He seemed happy to have it there, and you wondered again if he had worn one there before.

“No, it isn’t uncomfortable.”

Draco’s voice was soft as he spoke, so different from the boy you had grown up with and the man you had thought you would be marrying prior to the war. The man you had been dreading lying to for the rest of your life.

“I uh...”

He trailed off, breaking into a chuckle while bringing one of his knuckles to his mouth, something you had seen him due a great deal of times when you were younger. He always did that when he was nervous, because back when his adult teeth were growing in, Astoria had told him he looked like a rabbit when he smiled. Afterward, he had taken to biting down on his knuckles when he laughed, and as he grew older, biting on his knuckles when his nerves got the better of him. You were surprised to know this, and found yourself aware that maybe this man before you wasn’t as different as the boy you had known as a child, before the stress of being the Malfoy heir had turned him into someone new.

You were broken out of your thoughts as Draco began to speak once more, his fist slowly lowering back down to his side, before it moved to his other hand once more, fiddling with his ring even as he talked about that very action.

“This is a little bit embarrassing, so please don’t think less of me, but...”

He began, letting out a small sigh as you motioned for him to continue, your expression soft and curious.

“I started wearing a ring on this finger when I began my attendance at Hogwarts. I didn’t want to give any of the girls there the wrong idea, and thought it would be best to let them know in advance that I was taken. Plus I uh... I thought it would be good practice for the real thing someday, but mostly it just led to this habit of fiddling with it when I think.”

You found yourself nearly wide eyed at Draco’s confession, unable to force a response to your tongue as you stared at him, watching as he continued to twist his silver band on his finger repeatedly.

“I never knew...”

You began quietly, watching as Draco looked up to meet your eyes as you spoke, letting you know that your next words should be chosen carefully. He was paying attention now, and slowly but surely you were getting the feeling that he always had been, even if you hadn’t noticed.

“I never knew you cared that much about our betrothal.” You finished softly, feeling yourself begin twisting your own wedding ring to keep your hands from shaking.

This was not how you had imagined your wedding night. That being said, although you would never admit it aloud, your wedding night dreams died with Fred Weasley, and anything that came after would always pale in comparison, because the most important piece of the puzzle was gone for good.

Draco laughed softy, a cool tone to his voice that you recognized from all of his in between years, the ones that rested between his gentle childhood and his tortured present. This sounded like the Draco that you had thought you could never know, the one that angrily stalked the halls of your once shared school, looking for a reason to argue with anyone on the off chance that it might earn him some praise from one of the many deceitful and hate filled patriarchal figures in his life. It never had. Perhaps now, that was why he had returned to that gentle childhood. Why he lived in this tortured present.

“I know you didn’t. I was always too proud to admit how I felt, but Y/n...”

That coldness you had heard before disappeared the second the man in front of you said your name, a softness returning to him that you had not even realized had momentarily faded away.

Draco was watching you intently now, his eyes staring into your own from where he stood just a mere two feet away, beside the door to the apartment that you supposed the two of you now shared.

“There was not one moment growing up where I wasn’t near bursting with excitement over the fact that I could call you my wife someday. Even if I never said it, and even if you never noticed, I swear to you that what I say is true. I felt a great deal of pride over being your betrothed, even when I knew the truth.”

Your eyebrows creased at that last part, confusion creeping into your expression as what he said started to sink in.

“The truth?”

You asked, your head tilting as you waited for a response, your breath caught in your throat and unwilling to spill forth as Draco chuckled once more, that shake returning to his head, as if he were exasperated or shocked by your response.

“The truth,”

Draco muttered, raising his gaze to meet your own again, taking multiple steps forward until he was less than a foot away, his eyes flickering down to the way your calves pressed back against the couch, as if he had cornered you there during your efforts to escape. For all that you knew, maybe he had. You could no longer recollect if you’d moved in response to his steps forward. You could barely breathe at all. The air was so heavy with something you couldn’t quite put your finger on, and for some reason you felt as if you could burst into tears at any moment.

“Is that you loved that Fred Weasley more than you could ever love me.”

You felt as if you had just been punched in the gut as Draco spoke these words, your balance faltering and ultimately failing as you toppled backwards onto the couch, your gaze turning into a blank stare as he continued.

“And I can’t even blame you.” Draco spoke, laughing cruelly under his breath, seemingly oblivious to your blank stare and your freshly seated position. It was as if he was lost in his own world, his words having as much power over him as they did you.

“I have never been much more than the monster my father wanted me to be.”

These words were whispered, as if the man speaking them wasn’t sure he wanted you to hear. As if he were hoping it was a secret he was telling, rather than a truth that you had long since accepted.

Suddenly, Draco’s eyes snapped up to meet yours once again, and when he found himself met with that blank stare, he seemed to understand immediately that he had said something he shouldn’t have.

“Y/n,”

He spoke, his tone concerned and almost pained as he knelt in front of you, his hand reaching out to grasp your own before he suddenly pulled back at the last second, as if afraid he would burn you with his touch.

“Salazar, I’m sorry.”

He muttered, running his hand through his hair before continuing his familiar ministrations on his ring, his eyes searching yours for any signs of emotion or life as his eyebrows creased with concern. You had never seen him look worried over anyone before, and it was this face of near horror that brought you back, the dim light of feeling returning to your eyes once more. If you could see yourself through your new husband’s eyes, you would have found yourself wondering if that light had been brighter before, but thankfully for you, the only eyes you had to gaze into right now belonged to the man in front of you.

“Y/n please say something, I didn’t mean to upset you, I just wanted you to understand...”

Draco let out another gravelly sigh before continuing, his hand raking through his platinum locks, messing up his carefully done wedding night hair.

“I don’t have any expectations for this marriage.” Draco continued, his hands moving to seek yours once more, only for him to stop himself again, his eyes squeezing shut as if he were struggling with some deep and rolling agony within.

“I know you loved him, and I don’t want you to think that I expect you to lo-”

“I never told him.”

You whispered suddenly, cutting Draco off before he could finish his sentence. Your voice was shaky and full of fear as you spoke, and as you looked deeper into your new husbands clear blue eyes, you found that your reflection looked just as terrified as you felt.

“What?”

Draco asked, his hand finally moving to rest almost weightlessly above your own, as if he wanted to help soothe whatever fears you had but didn’t know if he had the right to do anything more than a slight hover, the heat of his skin more prevalent than the actual touch of his hand.

“I never told him that I loved him. He was never supposed to know.”

You finished, that fear never leaving your eyes nor your voice even as you tried desperately to quell the shake of your body beneath the gaze of this sometimes familiar and sometimes unknown presence that you now called your husband.

Draco looked more confused than ever, slowly withdrawing his hand from above your own as he tried to understand what meaning your words held.

“Did I do something wrong by saying it aloud?”

He asked finally, his eyebrows still creased with curiosity and something close to fear that told you how bad he felt and how scared he was to have messed up.

Clearly, some things never changed.

“Oh, no, I just uh...”

You desperately searched for an answer to his question, trying to silence the deafening noise behind your eyes as you stood, dizzy and desperate to be alone.

“I just wasn’t prepared to have someone say it.”

You finished, knowing full well how nervous you sounded and how much of a lie it was.

“I’m so sorry, Y/n.”

Draco whispered in response, as if he had been waiting his entire life to say it. This apology was different from all of the others, and there was a pain within it that made you stop before you could excuse yourself to your bedroom.

You looked down to meet that strong gaze once more only to find it full of tears, a broken man behind those usually strong and sure eyes.

“Draco, I-”

“I’m sorry for being so selfish for so long. I’m sorry for never just admitting it to myself and letting you go. I wanted so badly to be a different husband, a better husband than the one that I had grown up under, and somehow I ended up worse.”

That cold and cruel chuckle returned as Draco turned his gaze downward, seemingly unable to look you in your eyes as he continued.

“If I had known what was going to happen, I never would have held onto you. If I had allowed myself to see it sooner, I wouldn’t have remained an obstacle on the path of you finding someone who actually deserved you. I have tried for so long now to convince myself that I never held you back, but I know it’s all a lie.”

Draco sniffled softly, his tears dripping to rest on his cheeks and slowly slope down his nose as he struggled to meet your eyes once more, his sincerest words yet forming on his lips,

“Please just know that I never wanted this to happen, that I would have set you free in a second had I been strong enough to admit to myself that you loved him far more than you ever could me. I never meant to do this to you, and I swear that I will spend every second of this marriage making up for what I’ve done, and what I never had the strength to do before.”

With those words, Draco straightened out, drying his tears on his jacket as he took a deep breath to steady himself once more.

 Watching him as he desperately tried to tape the broken and guilt riddled pieces of himself back together felt wrong, so on shaky legs and with long held breaths you walked silently over to the linen closet, pulling out a comforter and a few pillows, which you dressed with carefully selected matching pillow cases, the act of choosing forcing you to consider anything but the conversation you had just had, and the voice that was raging in your mind.

“Thank you.”

Draco smiled genuinely as you handed the blanket and pillows over to him, his eyes reading your expression before you even had the chance to speak.

“I’m perfectly fine with sleeping on the couch for the time being.”

He stated calmly,

“I’m just grateful that I don’t need to stay back at the manor. I’ll gladly sleep on the sofa as long as it takes if it keeps me away from there.”

He nearly shuddered as he spoke, making you wonder once more what he must have endured there to feel so uncomfortable within its walls.

You watched as Draco settled in, making sure he had everything he needed before you ended up standing against the wall opposite the living room that he would be sleeping in, your hand poised over the light switch. You had said your good nights, pleasantries had been shared, and now the only thing left to do was turn the light off and leave. But even still, watching the blond laying there on your sofa like that, you couldn’t help but feel like you had to say something more.

“Draco I -”

You began softly, your voice shaky as tears threatened to spill over your cheeks just as they had done his not long prior.

“I know you’ll probably never believe me, but I want you to know that I don’t blame you.”

You said gently, feeling the confusing urge to comfort the man in front of you further, despite the fact that you had absolutely no idea how to do so.

“I was a coward. He was never meant to know, betrothal or not. Please don’t let this eat away at you the way I know so many other things do. You were a victim, not a villain. I have never seen you as the monster you think that you are.”

You finished quietly, not waiting for a reaction or a response to your words as you switched the light off quickly before taking long and gentle steps to your bedroom, latching the door behind you before you sunk down against it, finally allowing the tears to fall.

“I am so sorry Fred.”

You whispered weakly after a few moments of gentle sobs and painful hiccups, the agony in your words prevalent as you recalled the way that his pained voice had echoed around your mind when Draco had accidentally told him your biggest secret of all.

“You loved me?”

It had asked you, softly at first, as if in disbelief, before it increased in volume over and over and over again until you felt as if your head was about to split in two.

It had taken a painstaking amount of effort to not respond to him as he begged you to tell him that it was a lie, that choked up voice playing endlessly as he pleaded for an explanation.

“Godrich Y/n, I never made you explain what I saw before I died, and I never asked you why you never told me about this godforsaken betrothal, but I need you to tell me this isn’t true! I need you to say he’s making this up, or that this is some dream you can’t wake yourself up from! Tell me he’s lying!”

Your tears fell faster as you remembered those words, your body shaking in a nearly violent manner as you curled up on your side, wishing with everything you had that he were here to hold you together.

But he wasn’t.

You were all alone, an emptiness in your heart that you had not felt in quite some time. Since before you had heard his voice in your head for the very first time, just two days after his death.

“Please come back.” You pleaded, not caring if Draco heard you from the living room as you did.

There was a strong silence within the air, before that familiar voice appeared once more, making your tears fall faster, but your heart beat slower.

He wasn’t gone forever, at least not yet.

“I don’t know what to say.”

His voice sounded hopeless, and entirely humorless in nature. You had never heard him like this before, and it further solidified for you the fact that you weren’t just hearing things after all, something you had tried to convince yourself of for months following your best friend’s death.

It as an easier thing to accept than the idea that he was there within your mind, but not outside of it, never to be seen again. Oh how you wished that you could look into his eyes just one more time.

“Please don’t hate me.”

You whispered, more tears threatening to spill over as you awaited Fred’s response, your cheeks cold with half dried sadness.

“I could never hate you.”

His voice spoke soothingly, almost as if he were hurt that you could ever think such a thing.

There was a long silence between the two of you before finally, Fred spoke up again,

“I think that is the worst part of all of this,”

You could almost feel him sigh as you waited for him to continue speaking, your breath stuck once more within your strained lungs.

“I love you, Y/n L/n,”

His words sounded tearful as he spoke, as if his disembodied voice were crying the same way that you were.

“I was just too afraid to tell you. I was so sure that you could never love me back that I...”

Fred never finished that sentence, and for the rest of the night, you lay on the cold floor of your nearly empty bedroom, choking down tears in an effort to stop them from flowing endlessly down your face and into a puddle on the wood below.

masterlist

Ko-fi

[jayluvb0t]

🐍Blame it on me💚

A Draco Malfoy x YN Potter story 💚🐍

CW: Angst, Mentions of suicide, death

You and Your Twin Brother Harry have finally got the opportunity to leave the dursleys behind after you got the invitation letters to hogwarts the school for Wizards Like you, and Hagrid came to pickyou up. While Harry hesitated a bit to answer you instantly said "I'll go with you!" To Hagrid.

when you arrived in hogwarts

A young boy caught your eye and you were looking at him with a slight smile "Who are you looking at?" He said. You encountered him with a confident "You silly. I am Y/N Potter by the way! Do you want to be friends?" The boy started laughing "Why should I Draco Malfoy be friends with a Potter?" Your smile faded away as he said those words "Oh... I- Sorry.." You turned away as you looked at your brother who was listening to Proffesor McGonagall as she explained the rules in hogwarts.

During the sorting ceremony you were a bit nervous hoping to become a Gryffindor just like your brother and as your name was called out you walked up and sit down. The sorting head started to think as it was put onto your ahead "hmm You have high potential, plenty of carriage as well i see.." It mumbled "She's a Potter just like you so she'll probably be Gryffindor." Harry's new found friend Ron said. "Hopefully.." Harry said looking at You sitting on the chair "How about.. Slytherin!" The hat said and then was taken off your head "What? A Potter here in Slytherin?" Draco didn't know anything else to do then just laugh at You "Stop it Malfoy." You said sitting down at the Slytherin table. "This can't be possible. You are a Gryffindor as well Harry!" Fred, one of

the Wesley twins, said "Well the hat wanted to put me into Slytherin as well but it didn't as I told it not to.." Ron looked at Harry a bit confused but did not know what to say.

As the Year went by you tried to become friends with Draco but he kept ignoring you and pushing you away. Still giving up was not an option. As the second Year Started you saw draco at the diagon alley as you were getting your books at Flourish and Blotts he was secretly sneaking glances at you to make sure your okay while you were reading books in the crowd. He walked down the stairs as you were about to leave. "Oh hello draco! How was your summer break?" You asked the Blond with a smile on your face. "It was great because i didn't have to see you all day." He answered in a way that hurted you a lot. "Now now Draco be nice to her." Lucius, Draco father said in a polite tone. "What ever father.." said Draco and rolled his eyes. One day during class you caught Draco looking at you and waved him in which he just looked back at the teacher "Weird.." you thought. Later Draco randomly came up to you and jokingly said "hey Y/N how are your Parents?" You looked at him silently "Ohh wait I forgot. They're dead." He laughed "Maybe you should pay them a little Visit.." If only he knew what he'd done now. You weren't seen for the rest of the Year and draco got concerned something happened. "Potter. Where is Your sister." Draco said as he walked up to Harry. "I don't know where she went she's in Your house so wait untill later maybe you'll see her in the common room." But that didn't happane. Teachers and Students have been searching for you for a while and Years went by untill 2 Years later in Year 4 the truth came out.

"Dear Students i am very sorry to say this but We have been informed that Y/N Potter has taken her life due to some for us unknown reasons." Dumbledore said a lot of students were shocked, especially draco. He got up from his table and left the great hall hurriedly running to the bathroom. "this is all my fault.. Why did I have to say this to her..." he said to himself and looked into the Mirror. "I'm an idiot.. why didn't I just confess my feelings to her..?!" He noticed Harry standing behind him in the reflection of the mirror "what did you say to her?" Draco looked down at the Sink "Potter.. I was making fun about Your parents and told her she should visit them... I-I didn't know what was riding me and If i would be able to undo it i would do it just to confess my feelings!" Harry stared at the Blond. He was outrageous and just wanted to punch then Slytherin. And thats exactly what happened, Harry, full of hatred and anger punched Draco who just wanted to.. apologies. "Why would you do Such a thing?!" Harry said before he grabbed dracos shirt and pulled him closer. "Why did you have to even take the last Family member I had away from me.." he was about to punch the Blond again but luckily for Draco, Dumbledore pulled Harry away. "I know this might be hard for you Harry but Draco will get his punishmen." Dumbledore said.

Years have passed and Draco still could not get over the death of you. He was not able to really love again cause his heart still remained to you. Every day if he had time he would go to your grave and sometimes leave some flowers there "Blame it on me i was the one who ruined it.." he said standing in front of your grave..

Hope you liked the story and as aleays i'm open for requests!

[spells-and-liquid-luck]

Draco has a twin sister and when Harry uses sectumsempra on Draco in the bathroom draco's twin sister rushes to help him, fending harry off. she's really talented with spells and everything and ends up nearly killing him until snape restrains her or something?

Here you go! I hope it's to your liking, please show it some love ❤

The Thin Line Between Good And Evil - Draco x Twin sister reader

Warnings: angst, mentions and uses of unforgivable curses.

(I don't own any of the images used below)

Being Dracos twin sister had its good time and bad times. Childhood was no exception. She could remember playing hide and seek with her brother and running around the manor laughing trying to chase each other in a game of tag. They were carefree children, up until it was time to grow up and start acting like 'true Malfoy's' as their father liked to put it.

Now, here they were attending Hogwarts. Both Slytherins and both had become prefects, and both had more than exceptional grades. They were feared, but yet also respected by their peers. Being feared however, didn't let them become immune to gossip. There were rumors making their way around the castle. Draco, death-eater. Malfoy twins evil? Nobody was really sure if they were true, most decided it was just gossip, and ignored it mostly from fear the Malfoys would hear about it, and make some sort of statement that involved tormenting the younger students. The only one who was sure that Draco had become a death-eater was Harry Potter. He, like usual couldn't keep his mouth shut, and he always found time to spew his unwarranted opinions any chance that he could get. They only ones who really knew the truth were of course the Malfoy twins, and they were not going to entertain the rumors, especially when it came to Harry Potter. That was one thing the Malfoys could agree on. Never trust Harry Potter.

"Hermione, I swear. Malfoy is a death-eater!" Harry exclaimed with exasperation. "How on Earth do you know that? You can't just accuse people of being death-eaters, Harry." Hermione swiftly and rationally explained. "I just know, okay." That was the end of their brisk conversation that she couldn't help but to overhear. For someone who doesn't like to study, he sure studies Draco very well. She thought to herself.

During the passing days, Harry had been relentless. Spying, creeping around, not minding his own business. Draco was clearly on a mission, and she could see how much her brother had grown exhausted from how hard he was working. Lately, he began to look tired, scared and anxious. He was always looking over his shoulder, and how adamant he was about fixing the vanishing cabinet. He was also ordered to complete another task, but that one was a secret that not even she knew, but she could tell whatever it was, it was driving him crazy. Nobody in her family would tell her what it was, and a part of her was a little too scared to even ask considering how top secret it was.

That same day, she had heard talk that Katie Bell was taken to the hospital wing. She had been given a package, or at least that was what she had been told, and in that package there was a necklace. Katie was seen carrying it to Dubledore. The necklace was cursed and of course another and his friends had been caught in the middle of it. Harry had once again accused Draco of being a death-eater and trying to assassinated Dumbledore's using said necklace. She had heard enough. She had to speak about this with Draco. She searched the castle for her brother, until finally she had spotted him in the astronomy tower.

She headed up the final steps in slow strides unsure of how she would approach asking him the question she had in mind. Reaching the last step, she stumbled a little which made Draco quickly jump up and grip his wand. Looking at his face, he seemed frightend, like he was afraid to get caught out of bed by Filch.

It took him a second to calm his breathing and realize who she was. How hard could it be to recognize his own twin? Her shiny blonde hair catching the light of the moon. Her eyes that matched his and let's not forget their very identical facial bone structure. If it wasn't for the different way they styled their hair, nobody would notice which Malfoy was who.

"Why are you up here?" He questioned sitting back down and staring blankly into the night sky. "I need to speak with you. It's urgent, and you have to be honest with me." She gently bit the inside of her cheek due to how nervous she was to hear the answer he would soon be giving to her. He just sat there in silence also nervous of what she would ask. "Did you really give Katie Bell a cursed necklace to give to Dumbledore?" She asked with hesitancy. Draco closed his eyes in a way that someone would when they would like to escape a situation. Nevertheless, she pressed on and spoke. "I need you to answer me. If you did really do that. I just want to know why. If this is about quidditch or your classes you don't even-" He cut her off before she could finish. "It's not about that! It's not about quidditch! It's bigger than that! It's bigger than Charms classes, bigger than potions. It's more important than that damned Harry Potter! I've been chosen!" He lifter up his arm to reveal the dark-mark. She had already come to that conclusion herself. She didn't have a single clue why he was so easy to set off lately, until she realized.

"You're doing something for him." She stated still looking at his tattooed arm. "Something more dangerous than fixing some cabinet." She continued. He looked into his sisters eyes and for a second she could see what he was really feeling. He stood up straight grabbed his bag and let out a rushed "I've got to go."

Days had gone by since she had seen Draco. He seemed to he avoiding everyone. Katie Bell had returned to Hogwarts after getting discharged and she was ready to start her days as she usually would before the incident. Her housemates were thrilled about her returning. Asking her how she was, and if she was sure she was ready to be back. One thing she couldn't help but to admire about Gryffindors was that they always had each other's back. In Slytherin, she always had to watch out for herself because everyone is after something, and they weren't afraid to take what they wanted even if it meant sacrificing a friendship.

Today, everyone was gathered in the Great Hall. The Gryffindors were celebrating Katie's return to Hogwarts. The houses weren't causing harm to anyone and it seemed well. Until, a certain Slytherin boy barged his way through the doors of the Great Hall. He looked sweaty and on the verge if collapse. She wanted to reach out and help her dear brother, but it was too late because his eyes had met Katie's. She could see the guilt written on his face. His eyes widened and he had that familiar look of wanting to be sick. Everyone turned to look at him in surprise that he would show his face knowing what people were saying about him. He quickly ran out of the Great Hall almost as quickly as he had walked in. She noticed Harry pull his attention away from Katie and quickly made his way after Harry. Realization hit her and she too ran out to protect her brother.

Draco quickly ran into the nearest bathroom. Undid his tie and and unbuttoned his shirt a little to help himself breathe. Panic sweeping over him as he splashed water from the sink onto his pale skin leaving his hair slightly damp and dripping. "Malfoy!" Harry called behind him. Dracos eyes once again widened like saucers unprepared on how to deal with Harry while he was currently struggling through one of his panic spells. His first instinct. Attack. Draco casted a spell and Harry doged it. Streams of color left the tips of their wands while they were running around the bathroom trying to dodge eachothers spells. A few minutes of casting spells they had leaned in their years at Hogwarts. Harry had a new spell in mind that he was dying to try out for weeks. He hadnt practiced it or knew what exactly it did.

"Sectumsempra" a sudden cry out of pain got her attention as she quickly rushed in the bathroom to see her twin brother wet and bloody on the bathroom floor. She let out a sudden gasp and looked at Harry in horror and in a complete rage. Harry was just as shocked to see what the spell had done to Draco, but the rage that had manifested in her made her pull out her wand and he looked at her in shock as she casted an unforgivable curse. "Crucio" Harry let out an agonizing scream but she wouldn't stop. She let the pain keep coursing through him. She wanted him to feel the pain. She wanted him to hurt. She wanted him to feel just as much pain as he just put her brother and her through. Tears were running down her face as she saw her brother losing too much blood. She really wouldn't even mind killing Harry at this point. Harry was beginning to feel weak as the pain from the cruciatus curse felt never ending.

"Expelliarmus." Her wand flew out of her hand as Harry began to feel conscious again. She ran after her wand and pointed it at Harry again. "Give me a reason why I shouldn't kill you?" She whispered through gritted teeth. As Snape ran to Dracos aid. Harry stayed quiet too busy trying to not think of the lingering pain he felt. "Ava-"

"Incarcerous" Snape quickly yelled before she could actually murder someone. She felt ropes binding her and she couldn't move. She fought to break free and for a second was reminded of how similar she was acting like her Auntie Bella.

"Vulnera sanentur."

"Vulnera sanentur."

"Vulnera sanentur."

Snape whispered over and over again until there was no blood flowing out of Dracos unconscious body. When he was done he looked at her with a fury in his eyes that she had not seen before. "You're lucky that I will not report this accident to the ministry, but I will have to report it to Dumbledore. Do you understand how much trouble you could get into. You almost bought yourself a one way ticket to Azkaban! I'm sure Dumbeldore will not be so lenient with you, but it's a lot better than having the Ministry escort you with your hands bound!"

Snape was right. She was willing to accept any form of punishment. Even Azkaban. Luckily the punishments weren't as severe. Harry had detention with Snape, and she was excused from DADA for a month and had to stay late in detentions helping Professor McGonagall who treated her as if she was a convict, but she somewhat understood why she did what she did. She was protecting the one she loved the most in the world. Her brother. Her twin. The only family she could trust.

Once her punishments were over, she was ready to apologize to Harry, and she was willing to make things right. Turning over a new leaf was going to be hard, but she was willing to go to any lengths to fix things.

[c1nnam00n]

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

[blac-ivy]

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

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

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

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

[tsukimirecs]

SLYTHERIN // fic recommendations

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

REGULUS BLACK

le lendemain matin

the salt and the sea

forever

the better of two bad options

a pen

the door

the black heir

distraction

THEODORE NOTT

love is sour grapes

by netws & nott

something stronger

like snow on the beach

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

TOM RIDDLE

desiderium

love again

from the glue

salted caramel, metal, strawberries, vanilla, and ink

midmorning

effects of amortentia

DRACO MALFOY

our little secret

honeydukes

firsts

how could i ever forget?

makeup

draco malfoy with shy!male!reader headcanons

cherry juice

MATTHEO RIDDLE

the cat

puppy eyes

the game

rainy nights m.r

LORENZO BERKSHIRE

like nobody else

[noelan1]

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

[girllblogging777]

𝐴𝐹𝑇𝐸𝑅 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝑆𝑇𝑂𝑅𝑀.ೃ࿐

↳ bf!mattheo riddle x fem reader (slight angst ? fluff) requested by @ilovematteoxx ♡

↳ 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡 : 1.2k

𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦 : you can’t find your boyfriend after an argument, and the castle is surrounded by dementors

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

the argument had started over something small. ridiculously small, actually. you couldn’t even remember the details anymore, but somehow, the two of you had managed to let it escalate and before you knew it, mattheo and you were throwing sharp words like hexes.

your boyfriend, as loving as he was, had a way of getting under your skin sometimes. he was all about teasing smirks and cocky grins that usually made you laugh, but tonight you weren’t laughing. tonight, you were tired and on edge from a long week of classes and when he joked about you taking things too seriously, something inside of you snapped.

“not everyone has the luxury of not giving a damn, mattheo.” you’d answered with your arms crossed. “not everyone has parents who don’t care.”

the moment the words left your lips, you swore you could’ve felt the air shift. it was like time froze, everything suddenly stood still and went way too quiet. mattheo’s expression shifted, the usual soft gaze he saved for you disappearing. you saw how the hurt flickered in his dark eyes, before he quickly covered it with cold indifference.

“forget it,” he said sharply before walking out, turning his heel and disappearing out of the common room before you could even get a word out.

you stood there, frozen, the weight of your words slowly sinking in. merlin, you hadn’t meant it like that. in fact, you hadn’t meant to hurt him at all. but you had and now he was gone, and you didn’t even know where.

you couldn’t focus on anything for the rest of the evening and as wandered around the castle - silently hoping you’d bump into him around the corner - the hallways felt emptier than ever. dinner passed in a blur too. every time someone entered the great hall and sat down at the slytherin table, you quickly looked up, only to realise it wasn’t him.

you spent the rest of the night alone in your dorm, laying in bed and staring at the ceiling, trying and failing to get any sleep. your last conversation kept replaying in your head, what if you’d really hurt him this time ? what if he didn’t come back ? sure, mattheo had his walls, but he never stayed mad at you for long… your mind spiralled. outside the window, everything was dark and still. inside your heart, everything was twisted in knots.

and then, just as you were finally drifting off, a loud noise jolted you awake. it wasn’t just you either, you heard frantic footsteps outside your dorm, and voices raising as well. you sat up, heart pounding and confused. it wasn’t long before a frantic knock echoed through the door, and your best friend pansy came in.

“you have to get up, everyone is being taken to the great hall. now !” she said quickly. “what’s happening ?” you asked in a panicky tone as you got out of bed. “dementors,” she muttered, pulling you outside and rushing you to join the many students making their way through the dark halls. “they’ve been spotted outside.”

your heart skipped a beat. dementors.

the crowd of students rushed to the great hall, tension filling the air, already thick with worry and whispers. you scanned the faces around, searching for any signs of mattheo. but he wasn’t there. he wasn’t anywhere.

“pansy,” you breathed, tugging on her sleeve as realisation dawned on you. “i don’t see mattheo. where is he ?”

she shrugged, concern flickering in her eyes “don’t know, i haven’t seen him since this afternoon”

you swallowed hard, your chest tightening. where was he ? the last time you saw him was when he’d left after the argument, angry and hurt. what if he was outside when the dementors had left ? what if… what if the last thing you said to him was the stupid comment about his father ?

your breathing picked up and theo noticed it from across the room, before making his way over. “what’s going on ?” he asked with furrowed brows.

“i can’t find mattheo,” you whispered with a trembling voice. “we had a fight earlier and now he’s probably out there, and-“

theo exchanged a knowing look with pansy before cutting you off by gently pulling you into a reassuring side hug “he’s fine, amore. probably just running late, you know him, always slipping off to do merlin knows what.”

but you weren’t reassured. not when the castle was in lockdown. it when dementors were around. not when mattheo was nowhere to be seen, and the last thing he heard from you was something you didn’t mean.

“i didn’t mean it,” you whispered with regret. pansy rubbed your back to comfort you but it didn’t stop the tears from welling up in your eyes as you reached the great hall. the place was crowded with panicked students and teachers, but you still felt terribly alone in your world of fear.

“i shouldn’t have said it,” you choked out, wiping your eyes and ignoring the people running around and bumping into you. “i shouldn’t have-“

before you could finish, a heavy sound echoed through the hall. the giant wooden doors swung open with a gust of cold air, and every head turned toward the entrance.

mattheo stood in the doorway, along with some others students you didn’t even glance at. his curly hair was damp with the rain, and his robes slightly disheveled. he looked like he’d been through a storm, but he was there.

without thinking, you ran. you pushed through the crowd, not caring who you bumped into, your heart racing as you closed the distance between you. by the time you reached him, a tear had managed to roll down your cheek, but you didn’t care. you threw yourself into his arms, your hands fisting his robes as you breathed him in.

“mattheo,” you gasped, holding onto him like he might disappear. “i’m so sorry. i didn’t mean it, i swear i didn’t mean it.”

his arms came around you immediately, pulling you close, his chin resting on top of your head. “hey, hey, it’s okay,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. “it’s okay, love. i’m not mad.”

you pulled back just enough to look up at him, your slightly red eyes searching his face. “you’re not?”

he shook his head, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. “no. i just… needed some time. but i’m not mad. i promise.”

you bit your lip, trying to stop the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm you again. “i thought—i thought something happened to you. i was so scared.”

mattheo’s gaze softened, and he wiped the tears away with his thumb. “i’m sorry i scared you. i shouldn’t have just left like that.”

you shook your head quickly, you knew your boyfriend’s habit of walking out during arguments was just to help manage his anger. it was something he’d started doing when he realised you were the only good thing in his life, and he didn’t want to take his negative feelings out on you.

“no, it’s my fault. i shouldn’t have said what i did.” he leaned down, pressing his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “it’s okay,” he whispered. “i’m here. i’m not walking away this time.”

for the first time that night, you felt the tightness in your chest ease. the panic, the fear, it all melted away in his arms, replaced by the steady, grounding warmth of his presence. “nice pajamas by the way,” he chuckled, and you rolled your eyes.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

tag list (comment if you wanna be added) @tateshifts @redeemingvillains @helendeath @jolly4holly @larmesdevanille @dexoq @shiftingwithmars @shiftingwithleah @fbvreadingblog @moonlightreader649 @bellatrix-lestrange5 @sp7-mr @sunkissedscribbles @chelawrites @myunperfektstorys @iris-qt @yikesitslush @clar2aa @deadsnakey @deadghosy @slut-for-fictional-men @romantasyreader28 @witchsrecs @mattiesgf

[slytherinslut0]

SLYTHERINSLUT0’S KINKTOBER

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

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST. | 2024.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And still, you fight it.

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

Mattheo notices everything. He always does.

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

A question without words; what are you doing?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He’s always too goddamn sure about everything.

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

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

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

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

Gods, what's wrong with you tonight?

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

Fuck.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You roll your eyes. "Promises, promises."

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

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

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

“Oh, I'm counting."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The car jerks, just slightly, Mattheo groans.

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

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

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

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

Part of you wonders if he’s charmed it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You know you did.

[lizlovell]

You're losing me

part 1

part 2

''Stop staring at her,it's creepy''

Pansy rolled her eyes at the blonde.

''It's not creepy,she is my girlfriend'', Draco replied, suprisingly for the first time since class started, ignoring everything else his friends were saying.

Pansy snorted,''Well apparently not''.

''Yeah man,why don't you just go talk to her instead of sending death-glares to everyone sitting next to her''

The words were simply ignored. Draco couldn't help it. He hated seeing her living like her life doesn't revolve around him anymore.

During the exam months before they take a break, all Draco thought about was to get away from you and all the tension built in your relationships. Being too busy under the exam pressure made him think your problems were nothing. He could see how your built up your guards up and how the dry conversations were cut short. He were annoyed that you kept on being strong for both of you although you were hurt. He didn't know how to handle,he couldn't find any word to make the situation better.So he ran away. But now that the exam pressure is gone, he found himself in the worse agnoy. He have to fix this.

...............................

''Y/N wait!''

''Y/N there are flowers for you in front of the common room..again''

''Miss Y/L/N, stop running in the hallway and bumping into everyone!The school is not a playground for Tag''

''Y/N I'm sorry i can't come to the library with you today''

It is an understatement to say the following weeks were funny and eventful for everyone at Hogwarts.They got some free shows to enjoy. It was a strange sight for them at first to see Malfoy trying to chase his former girlfriend. But then they got used to seeing you running in the hallway with Draco trying to catch up, flowers for you in the classes and in front of ur dorm, your friends getting paid to leave you alone, and everyone is just so invested to know what is going to be Draco's next move and how you are going to slip through it,again,some betting it won't last three weeks.

Despite you using all of your effort not to lose the bet and keep ur dignity, there you are again,back up against the walls and embraced in someone's warmth.

The familiar mixed scent of green apple and pine hovers and a wave of nostalgia washed over you with the familiar chest-ache.

There you are again– after nights and nights of crying your eyes out till they were dry– you find yourself pinned under the Draco fucking Malfoy against the cold stone wall of Hogswart .

''Y/N'', he voice cracked out of his throat betraying the tough act he is trying to put on. He just couldn't take it anymore. He can't stand the void that left him with dark circles under his eyes and he refused to believe you are doing well without him.

''Come back to me,love. I know you missed me too''

His eyes do not match the arrogance the words are carrying. You hate yourself for it but that longing gaze filled with sorrow and a tight grip on your waist was all it took to break down the self control you have tried so hard to build around you. He see right through you.

''Didn't you want this Draco, wasn't this what you wanted? away from me'',

''I was scared Y/N, i was so scared that i doubted us. So i ran away like a coward because i didn't know any better..i'm sorry'', he mean every apology he is saying.

''But now i'm scared to live without you, i don't want to be away from you,never again, please love, come back to me''

Your knees are weak and your vision is blurry. You taste something sour, is that a tear, are you crying again? ''Merlin,i'm so damn tired to crying'', you thought.

Soft lips pressed down on yours. You felt your stomach dropped. The taste of fire whiskey and your tears linger on your lips. A few sobs chocked out of you, feelings like you are finally woken up from a nightmare. All these touch and warmth,merlin knows how much you yearned for these. A sharp pain drew some blood from ur lips as if he is letting out all the frustration and finally finding comfort in it. The familiar feeling of belonging and love filled up the void.

''shouldn't have let you go my love''

Students of Hogwarts are going to be happy that they won't have to worry about falling victims to the certain couple's stunts and tantrums .

.....................................

I'm sorry this is rushed and bad but here's the ending >~<

[satansapostle6]

Lovers and Liars | Draco Malfoy

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

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

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine: Bitter Taste

Lorelei was proud of the progress that Draco had made in the past few days. Sure, he’d been ornery and irritable, but she felt that was more than understandable given that he had to give up Quidditch this year. Lorelei had been watching with sadness in the time she spent with Draco repairing the Vanishing Caninet as he slowly accepted the fact that his childhood had ended prematurely. It was simply another spoil of war.

That night, after Draco and Lorelei had finished their work on the Vanishing Cabinet, they had decided to spend the rest of their night in the Room of Requirement itself, taking advantage of its magical properties. It was long past mthem were sitting around enjoying a bottle of perfect elf-made champagne. Draco stood by the cabinet they’d been mending as Lorelei sat up on the shelf beside it, looking up at him with admiration.

“I’m proud of you, you know,” she said softly.

Draco just looked down at his feet, smiling softly as he sipped on his champagne.

His hand rested on Lorelei’s knee, brushing against the soft emerald green fabric of her dress as he finally spoke.

“I haven’t killed the old man yet,” he reminded her gently.

“We’ll get there,” she assured him. “But for now, I’m still incredibly proud of you.”

Draco raised an eyebrow, clearly not feeling deserving of the praise. “Why?” he questioned her. “What have I done that’s so special?”

He tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

“You’ve really committed yourself to getting us all back in the Dark Lord’s good graces,” she reasoned. “You’re giving up everything to provide for your family. Your father would be so proud of you, you know,” she murmured.

Draco nodded, gulping as he accepted her kindness.

“I didn’t sacrifice half of what he did,” he confessed guiltily.

“Well, you’ve done more than enough. You’re going to kill the greatest wizard to ever live,” Lorelei whispered, trying to encourage him with a smile.

“Do you really think that?” Draco wondered, seeming skeptical.

“Think what?” she furrowed her brow.

“That Dumbledore’s the greatest wizard to ever live?” he asked her. “That he could defeat the Dark Lord?” he whispered the blasphemous notion.

Lorelei frowned as she tried to answer. “I… I think that we’re about to find out,” she concluded, a feeling of unease in her stomach.

“Do you really think I’ll be able to do it?” Draco questioned fearfully, blue eyes wide as they stared into hers. “Do you think I’ll be able to kill one of the greatest wizards to ever live?”

“Yes,” Lorelei promised him.

But Draco was not easily convinced.

“You can. You just have to be smart,” she reminded him, “And quick.”

“Smarter than Dumbledore?” he demanded.

“You’ve seen him, Draco,” Lorelei insisted, “He’s older. Slower. You just have to get the upper hand.”

“I suppose,” he sighed, distracted by the thought.

“Hey,” Lorelei stopped him, lifting his chin up so that he looked her in the eye, “You can do this, Draco. You’re powerful. You’re smart. And you have me. We’ll catch him off guard, no problem. We just have to get creative, yeah?”

Draco nodded, feeling consoled by Lorelei. She truly was the only person who could calm him. He had no idea how, but her gentle sweetness always seemed to work wonders on him.

“I love you,” he professed.

Lorelei smiled, relieved that he seemed to be in a better mood. She was reassured of his change of heart as he leaned over her, hand on her cheek as he leaned in for a kiss. Their lips met for a brief moment before he deepened the kiss, one hand moving to her waist. Lorelei savored the taste of champagne on his lips. Draco’s thumb brushed against her bottom lip as she giggled softly, smitten with him as she rested her forehead on his, the both of them resting for a moment, eyes closed.

“I love you,” she breathed jokingly.

Draco beamed appreciatively. “There we go. I was beginning to worry.”

Lorelei chuckled. She’d been missing her charming, funny boyfriend for the past few months. Ever since Lucius was arrested, Draco had become sullen and serious, hardly ever stopping to smell the proverbial roses. Even Lorelei was beginning to fear he’d never be the same again. She was relieved to find that Draco remained resilient. Evidently, his love for her still trumped everything else.

“More champagne?” Draco asked in a suave purr, picking up her empty champagne flute.

“Yes, please,” she giggled as he looked down at the cluttered liquor cart beside them. “Maybe it’ll get me more in the mood.”

Draco grinned as he set down the empty bottle they’d finished, searching for another. “Well in that case, I’ll give you the whole bottle.”

He frowned as he looked around the messy room for another bottle of champagne, unable to find any more.

“Hmm. Looks like we’ve finished all the champagne,” he frowned, returning to the cart and selecting a different bottle. “I’m guessing you wouldn’t mind switching to bourbon?”

“Go for it,” she approved, as he reached for two clean glasses.

He made two decent pours before handing a glass to his girlfriend.

“Here you are, my darling.”

“Thank you, my love,” she said, eagerly sipping.

Lorelei smiled with surprise as she tried the bourbon. “Hmm. What is that, almond?” she thought aloud.

“Almond?” Draco frowned. “In bourbon?”

He watched her curiously, eyes widening as she suddenly dropped her glass on the ground, shattering it to pieces. Draco was so startled by the sudden movement that he dropped his own glass, hands cupping Lorelei’s face as he inspected her frantically. He hardly even noticed the bourbon spilled on his black suit.

“Lorelei, are you alright?!” he exclaimed, seeing a look of fear in her eyes.

Lorelei said nothing, just staring up at him blankly as he tried to help her.

“Lorelei?!” he yelled, feeling himself beginning to panic.

He simply could not allow the person he loved more than anything slip away. He felt his heart beating faster and faster as he panicked. His hands immediately felt numb and clammy.

“Lorelei! What’s wrong?!” he cried, tears welling in his eyes as she remained unresponsive.

“Nothing’s wrong!”

Draco whipped around furiously, seeing who he automatically knew to be the one responsible for this attack.

“On the contrary…!” Theodore Nott sighed, sounding almost bored as he walked into the room.

“You!” Draco glared.

“Everything is as it should be,” Theo announced cheerfully, his gaze drifting towards Lorelei, “Isn’t that right, my darling?”

Draco turned to Lorelei, stepping back in a panic as she just stared at him. In that moment, Draco didn’t even recognize Lorelei. The Lorelei sitting across from him wasn’t the same Lorelei that had just kissed him and told him she loved him. This Lorelei was petrified, eyes full of absolutely nothing. Draco hated the look he saw in her eyes. She was looking in his direction, but didn’t acknowledge him at all. It was as if she was looking right through him. But then, she turned to look at Theo, and everything changed.

Draco nearly fainted as he saw the way her eyes lit up once she saw Theo; it was the exact same way she’d looked at him moments ago.

“That’s right, my love,” Lorelei echoed, seeming entranced.

Draco Malfoy was flabbergasted.

“What have you done to her?!” he roared.

“I told you,” Theodore reminded him smugly, “I’ve returned things to the way they should be,” he repeated.

Draco’s face fell as Theo turned back to Lorelei.

“Lorelei, darling,” he said affectionately, laying it on thick. “Why don’t you come join me?” he invited her.

Draco looked back at Lorelei, stunned. Her charming, obedient smile disgusted him. Without another thought, Lorelei hopped off of the counter, running off to join Theodore without another thought.

“Of course, love,” she beamed, taking her place beside him.

Draco felt himself screaming on the inside. His vision nearly went black as he watched Theodore triumphantly offer his arm to Lorelei, who took it with pleasure. She looked up at him, smiling in a way that Draco could only describe as lovingly.

“What have you done to her?!” Draco shouted, charging toward him.

Theo sighed. “Isn’t it obvious, Malfoy? Merlin’s beard, you’d think I wouldn’t have to spell everything out for you by now,” he muttered, “I took a page out of our new Professor Slughorn’s book: Amortentia,” he told him.

Draco’s face fell as Theodore Nott only bolder.

“…The strongest love potion known to man,” Theodore concluded, looking down at his new queen with adoration. “Look at her. So beautiful; so loving.”

“I’ll kill you!” Draco drew his wand.

But with just a wave of his hand, Theo waved it away. Draco watched as it clattered far away from him, horrified as he looked back at Theo.

“Oh, yeah. I’ve been practicing, Malfoy,” he informed him with a smirk. “You’re not the only one trying to earn the Dark Lord’s favor.”

Draco looked at him nervously, suspicious as he realizing what Theo was implying.

“Yeah, that’s right, I know about your little mission, Malfoy. I’ve got connections, too,” he murmured, taking a few steps toward him as Lorelei just followed patiently. “I’ll take everything from you. Before the summer, I’ll have secured myself a reward from the Dark Lord… And you?”

Theo chuckled coldly, eyes burning with a maniacal hatred. “You’ll be nothing.”

“You really think you can find a way to get away with killing one of the most powerful wizards to ever live?” Draco glared at him.

“Oh, come on, Malfoy,” Theo teased, looking down at Lorelei with false affection. “I won’t be the one to kill him. Isn’t that right, Lorelei.

Draco’s heart dropped as he learned the final and most vindictive part of his enemy’s plan.

“That’s right,” Lorelei echoed enthusiastically.

Draco knew Theodore was evil, but this was something else entirely.

“Don’t you see?” Theo asked. “This way… I don’t even have to find a way to get away with it. You took Lorelei from me first. And now, I’ll take her away from you forever. Isn’t it brilliant?”

“You’d really hurt her just to get to me?” Draco demanded. “The girl you love?”

“I didn’t say it was an easy decision,” Theo said coolly, eyeing the beautiful girl. “But… if you can’t have her, then that’s good enough for me,” he concluded.

“Lorelei will never love you!” Draco vowed, fuming. “I’ll kill you myself!”

“Yes, I’m sure you will,” Theo sighed with boredom, as he turned around and ushered Lorelei out of the room.

Draco was forced to watch them leave as he scrambled to find his wand. But he was too late. He watched them spitefully, his blue eyes bloodshot with pain as Theo leaned down in the middle of the corridor, tilting Lorelei’s head up towards him. He grinned as he leaned down, kissing her on the lips. Theo pulled her close, as Draco found his wand and aimed it.

“Stupefy!”

Draco watched, panting as the doors to the Room of Requirement magically closed, leaving him completely alone.

-

Chapter Thirty

[colmiillo]

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

[lqveharrington]

The Alchemy | D.M.

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

pairing: draco malfoy x hufflepuff!reader

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

a/n: inspired by the olympics recently ❤️

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[webbluvrsugar]

teaching Tom Riddle how to love.

cw: fluff with smut

He has you pinned on his bedsheets, you’ve sneaked away to his chambers just to do this, it’s not like you’ve been dating, but you’ve been hanging around — and fucking — each other for a while now, and for Tom, that’s a really big deal.

He’s been fucking you the way he wishes the past times, hard, rough, with your head flush against the pillow, ramming into you without any sorts of feelings, without attaching himself, it’s nice, pleasurable, but he’s been doing it for himself.

He’s inside you already, cock stretching you out as he stays still, his head leans down to meet your neck, breathing your scent before he kisses your jaw, his lips moving to your ear.

“Tell me how you like it.” His voice is low and it grumbles in your ear, when you can’t answer right away, he gives you a slight thrust.

Your hands goes to his on your hips, slightly pushing him back before taking his hands and placing them over your breasts, his breath itches, he slightly massages the flesh, toying with your nipples as he lets you guide him.

“Slowly…” you mutter, he carefully starts moving his hips in a pace he hasn’t used before, it all feels foreign, somehow more intimate but it still gets you to mewl so he doesn’t complain. “Like that.”

Tom nods, he keeps rolling his hips into you, slow and soft so you can feel exactly every way his cock stretches you out, letting out slow whimpers as he does it.

“Does it feel good?” He asks, another soft whisper in your ear as he makes his thrusts a little more sharp, taking your air out of your lungs and forcing a moan out of you.

“Yes, just… hold me close.” You ask, hands wrapping around his neck to pull him flush to your body, slightly burying your head on your shoulder.

Tom hasn’t felt like this before, like he’s being needed, he also didn’t think that slow, passionate sex would feel so nice when he obviously prefers to do it the hard way.

But you like it.

So he keeps doing it the way you asked him to, leaning into the pleasure your cunt provides as the time passes, and when you’re done and both lazy and mushy next to each other, your head flush to his chest, he lets himself provide that care to you, hesitantly dragging a hand to your hair and brushing it away to see your face, thumb lightly caressing your exposed cheek.

‘It’s not so unpleasant after all’ he thinks.