#harry potter x half-sister!reader

[fanfics4all]

Pure-Blood Potter: Chapter 22

Request: Yes / No  This was requested by @loxbbg

Requests are closed <3 Have a nice day/night

Draco Malfoy x Fem!Potter!Reader (Eventually)

James Potter x OC Arabella Renaud

Harry Potter x Half-sister!Reader

Word count: 2265

Warnings: Nothing I think!

Y/N: Your Name 

Y/N/N: Your Nickname

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(Not my photo, credit to whoever made it!)

Draco and I had fallen asleep and ended up missing supper. I woke up in the morning and looked around confused. I saw Vincent, Gregory, and Blaise all finishing up getting ready. Blaise was the first to notice me awake and smirked at me. 

“Morning, Princess.” He said and I rolled my eyes. 

“Why didn’t you wake us?” I asked, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. 

“We tried, you two were completely out.” Vincent said. 

“Come on, let’s let her get ready. We’ll save you guys seats.” Blaise said as he pushed Vincent and Gregory out. I looked over at Draco and smiled slightly. He always looked so peaceful while he was sleeping. I slipped out of the bed and made my way to the bathroom. I quickly got ready and looked down at my messed up uniform. I was definitely going to need to stop in at my room to get a new uniform. Although, the boys weren’t in uniform when they were getting ready. I shrugged and walked out to find Draco sitting up and rubbing his eyes. 

“Morning, sleepy head.” I said and he looked over at me with a smile. 

“Morning, love. You look like you’re feeling better.” He said as he got up. I nodded with a small smile. 

“That was the best sleep I’ve gotten in a bit.” I said and he smiled at me. 

“Good, now you wanna talk about what happened in class?” He asked and I sighed. 

“We’re going to miss breakfast.” I said and he shook his head. 

“It’s fine, we’ll get something in Hogsmeade. Now come talk to me.” He said, gently pulling me over to his bed. We sat down and I looked at him confused.

“Hogsmeade?” I asked and he chuckled. 

“Did you forget we’re going to Hogsmeade today? You did get your permisionslip signed, right?” He asked and my eyes widened. 

“That’s today? Merlin I didn’t even notice.” I said and he laughed. 

“You did get it signed though, right?” He asked and I nodded.  

“Good. Now talk to me, Y/N, I know you’re hurting about what happened in DADA yesterday.” He said. He took on of my hands in his and I looked up at him. His brow was furrowed in worry and he was gently rubbing my hand with his thumb to comfort me. 

“Professor Lupin helped when he spoke with me.” I whispered. 

“What did he say?” He asked. 

“He knew my Father when they were in Hogwarts. He told me about how Father told him and his other friends how excited he was when Mother told him she was pregnant with me. He also said Father was heartbroken when Mother said he’d never be able to see me…” I answered. Draco gave my hand a small squeeze and I looked up at him with a sad smile. 

“He said he’s never seen Father so heartbroken in his life. He also said that Father wanted to be a part of my life so badly. He told me that Harry’s Mother, Lilly hoped my Mother would change her mind and let Father see me.” I said and he sighed. 

“Perhaps if you Father hadn’t died she would have. You know your Mother just wants to see you happy.” He said and I smiled at him. 

“I know, Professor Lupin said Mother was just trying to protect me, but I’m not sure what she was trying to protect me from.” I said and Draco shrugged. 

“Your Grandparents, perhaps?” He offered and I shrugged. 

“Perhaps.” I said. 

“Why don’t you ask her? I’m sure she’ll tell you.” He asked and I shrugged. 

“I think it hurts her to talk about my Father… She feels guilty.” I said with a frown. 

“If you really want to know, she’ll tell you.” He said and I sighed. 

“I know you’re right, but I don’t want to hurt her.” I said and he squeezed my hand. 

“You won’t. Now, about that bloody Hufflepuff.” He said and I rolled my eyes. 

“We’re not on bad terms, Dray, you don’t need to go and hex him or something.” I said and he sneered. 

“Not on bad terms? He bloody broke up with you on your birthday!” He said and I shook my head. 

“Yes he did, but he had a good reason to break up with me. Besides, he comforted me recently.” I said and he looked at me confused. 

“When?” He asked. 

“That morning I left breakfast because Ron and Harry were bothering me.” I said and he rolled his eyes. 

“What did they do to you?” He growled. 

“Nothing, Dray, they just were saying unkind things about you and I just needed to leave.” I said and he pulled me into his side. 

“You shouldn’t bother being around them.” He said and I sighed. 

“They’re actually not that bad, when they’re not bad mouthing you.” I said and he groaned. 

“Don’t tell me you actually like them.” He said and I shrugged. 

“My brother isn’t as awful as I thought he’d be.” I said and he groaned. 

“You’re killing me, love.” He said and I giggled. 

“Just be nice and everything will be fine.” I said and kissed his cheek. 

“No promises, now you go get dressed and I’ll meet you down in the common room.” He said and I nodded. I left Draco’s room and headed into my own. It was empty since everyone was at breakfast. I opened my closet and started looking through my clothes. I quickly picked out a nice outfit and smiled to myself. I got dressed in a white long-sleeved shirt, gray jeans, my white and black sneakers, and a gray jacket. 

I grabbed my permission slip and headed down to the common room. I found Draco sitting on the couch dressed in his usual all black. He looked up at me and smiled. 

“You look amazing, love.” He said as he stood up.

“Thank you, you look handsom as always.” I said. He took my hand and led me out of the common room and towards the front of the castle. I wrapped my arm around his and smiled up at him. 

“Will you come to Hundukes with me?” I asked and he chuckled. 

“Of course, love, but first we need to eat.” He said and I nodded. 

“Agreed, I think I’ll get some porridge.” I said. 

“You enjoy that, I’ll be having a full English.” He said and I rolled my eyes. Draco loves a full English. 

“Of course you will.” I said. We made it to the courtyard where all the students were waiting. We handed our slips to Filtch and walked over to our friends. 

“Blaise told me you two made up.” Pansy said with a smirk. Draco glared at her and Blaise while I blushed slightly. 

“Pansy, don’t you have something to say to our dear Y/N?” Blaise asked with a small smirk. She glared at him slightly before turning back to face me. 

“I’m sorry for coming up with a stupid plan when we didn’t even need it…” She said and I giggled. 

“It’s fine Pans.” I said and she smiled at me. 

“Perfect! So you’re going to come to Fickle Fabrics with me, right?” She asked Draco pulled me closer to him. 

“I’m taking Y/N to Honeydukes.” He said and she pouted a bit. 

“You can’t hog her all day!” She said. 

“I haven’t spent much time with her recently and I plan on making it up to her today.” He said and Pansy rolled her eyes. 

“How about next trip I spend it with you, Pans?” I offered and she smiled. 

“The whole trip?” She asked. 

“You can’t hog her all day.” Blaise said, making the boys laugh. 

“Oh but Draco can!?” She asked with her arms crossed. 

“Okay, okay, let’s calm down.” I said and Draco wrapped his arms around me. 

“Fine, next trip you’re coming to Fickle Fabrics with me!” Pansy said and I nodded. 

“I promise.” I said. 

“I need everyone’s attention!” Professor McGonagall called and we all turned to face her. 

“Now remember, these visits to Hogsmeade village are a privilege. Should your behavior reflect poorly on the school in any way, that privilege shall not be extended again.” She said. Just as she finished Harry ran up to her with his slip. 

“No permission form signed, no visiting the village. That’s the rule, Potter.” She said to him and I frowned slightly. I looked over at Hermione and Ron and they both looked upset that he couldn’t come. 

“All those with permission, follow me. Those without, stay put.” Filtch said and started walking with Professor McGonagall. Harry stopped her and I stopped Draco from pulling me along. 

“I’ll meet up with you in a bit.” I said and he groaned. 

“Come on, love, you don’t need to stay around for that idiot.” He said and I shot him a look. 

“I promise I’m coming, just give me a minute.” I said and he sighed. 

“Fine, but if you’re not out of the courtyard in five minutes I’m coming back here and dragging you out.” He said and I chuckled. 

“Fine, fine.” I said and waved him off. He kissed my cheek and left with the rest of our friends. 

“I can’t. Only a parent of guardian can sign. Since I am neither, it would be inappropriate. I’m sorry, Potter. That’s my final word.” Professor McGonagall said before walking off. I walked next to Hermione and Ron, who both looked at him sadly. 

“Harry didn’t get his signed?” I whispered and Hermione shook her head. 

“Forget about it, guys. See you later.” Harry said and turned around. 

“Harry wait!” I called and rushed up to him. He turned to look at me. 

“Your Aunt and Uncle wouldn’t sign?” I asked and he shook his head. 

“They hate anything to do with magic, I’m lucky I’m even at Hogwarts.” He said and I frowned. 

“Why do they hate magic?” I asked. 

“My Aunt always said my Mother was a freak because she was a witch, she hated my Dad too.” He said and I frowned more. 

“I’m sorry.” I said and he smiled at me. 

“It’s alright, Y/N. Go have fun with Ron and Hermione.” He said and I bit my lip. 

“Um… actually Draco and I made up. Turns out he wasn’t dating Pansy and it was just a stupid plan to get me to break up with Cedric. I suppose I should have told them sooner that he broke up with me.” I said and Harry’s eyes widened. 

“And you just forgave him?” He asked and I shrugged. 

“He plans on making it up to me on this trip.” I answered. 

“He’s still a git and that’s not going to change, Y/N. What happens if he does something like this again? Will you just forgive him like nothing again?” He asked and I narrowed my eyes at him. 

“I didn’t forgive him like it was nothing! We fought about it last night and made up.” I said, crossing my arms. 

“Whatever, have fin on your trip with Malfoy.” He said, spitting his name like venom. I took a deep breath and stopped Harry from leaving. 

“Listen, Harry, just because I’ve made up with Draco doesn’t mean we can’t still get to know one another. I… I kind of like having a brother…” I whispered and he gave me a small smile. 

“You’re not just going to ditch us?” He asked and I shook my head. 

“I just wish you won’t talk bad about Draco so much.” I said and he chuckled. 

“We’ll see.” He said and I smiled. 

“Now go have a fun trip.” He said and I nodded. 

“Fine, would you like me to bring you back anything?” I asked and he shook his head. 

“You don’t have to.” He said and I shrugged. 

“But I’d like to.” I said and he shook his head. 

“Don’t worry about me, Y/N/N, just have fun.” He said and I sighed. 

“Fine, but I’m getting you something whether you like it or not!” I said and ran off before he could say anything else. 

I met up with my friends and Draco wrapped his arm around me. I snuggled into his side and sighed happily. We made it to Hogsmead rather quickly and Draco took me to the Three Broomsticks right away. We sat down and ordered breakfast. Once we finished eating we headed to Honeydukes were Draco and I bought plenty of sweets. Then Draco wanted to go visit Spintwitches Sporting Needs. We looked around and Draco bought a couple of things for Quidditch, which he was very excited about. I had found some nice Quidditch gloves and bought them for Harry. Draco gave me a look as I was purchasing them. 

“I’m getting them for Harry.” I said as the witch handed me the bag. 

“For Potter?” Draco scoffed as we left the store. 

“I feel bad he couldn’t come.” I said and Draco rolled his eyes. 

“It’s not your fault he bloody forgot to get it signed.” He said. 

“He didn’t forget, his Aunt and Uncle wouldn’t sign.” I said and Draco rolled his eyes again. 

“It’s still not your fault.” He grumbled. 

“It’s called being nice Draco.” I said with a smirk and he rolled his eyes with a smile. 

“No more Potter talk the rest of the trip.” He said, wrapped his arm around me. 

“Alright, fine.” I said as he led us to another store.

Tag list: @psamathegoesrawr @kkmstblog @nox-ceur @nighttimemoonlover @aactuaaltraash @solacestyles @smoooore @wonderstruks @les-bio-lie @tashy-bear @ashwarren32 @hollie-blogs-blog1 @lover-of-books-and-tea @nerdygaloresposts @teenwolfbitches28 @kmc1989 @drw0301bieber @lady-of-lies @ravenmoore14 @ravenempress101 @cillianchamp @rowanthomasknapp @rachelxwayne @ready-4-fanfiction @in-slytherin-we-trust @accio-rogers @sambucky8 @bruisedfists-and-splitlips @answer-the-sirens @andreasworlsboring101 @vanessa-kom-skaikru @impulse-anchor @psamathegoesrawr @nighttimemoonlover @liz-owl

[seokgyuu]

After your flawless job-interview, Seokmin hires you as the newest addition to his company. Just that, once you start, it seems like you’re not who you previously portrayed to be. Instead, he finds himself faced with mini-skirts, push-up bras and gawking co-workers, not to mention your absolute lack of work ethic. Obviously, he needs to fire you! Just that, when he tries to… you simply don’t let him.

Pairing: Boss!Seokmin x Employee!F!Reader

Genre: Porn with the smallest bits of plot, workplace “romance”, Smut MDNI!

Warnings: Morally gray characters, Seokmin is obviously reader’s boss and shouldn’t be fucking her, power imbalance, reader gets objectified a lot, but she enjoys it, reader is… acting very dumb (on purpose), Smut warnings under the cut!

Word Count: 3.7k

A/N: Hi everyone!! welcome to this little work of… filth! Making my return with a Seokmin fic just felt right (also I just could not stop thinking about this). Please let me know what you think with a reply or a reblog, it would mean the world to me!! also a big thanks to @shadowkoo for making this AMAZING banner and to @bitchlessdino for beta-ing!!

tagging: @okiedokrie, @inkchwe, @shinysobi, @gyuhanniescarat, @haologram, @beomcoups @wongyuseokie, @the-boy-meets-evil, @multi-kpop-fanfics (just some of my fellow dk enjoyers)

Smut Warnings: oral (m receiving), face fucking, praise (good girl, etc.), degradation (whore, etc.), unprotected sex, titjob, breeding, usage of the word “Sir” in a sexual context, tell me if i missed anything!

His phone rings. The Harry Potter title music is playing, letting him know it’s his sister calling. He can’t pick up, or well, no, he can, considering his hands are free, but he probably shouldn’t.

Having talks with his employees about having to let them go is Seokmin’s least favorite thing about being the boss. He never wants anyone to feel like they weren’t good enough or couldn’t live up to any expectations, but sometimes… sometimes it was inevitable.

Like with you.

When you had first walked into your interview, you impressed him with your sharp tongue and your witty humor. Your resume looked perfect for the job, and your previous experience was exactly what he needed. He hired you the following week and deemed his decision a good one - until you showed up for your first day.

See, before anything else, Seokmin is simply just a man. A man with eyes and needs and desires.

The mini skirt barely covered your backside, showed off your legs and those perfect thighs you had hidden from sight before. Your dress shirt would have been fine for the office if only it wasn’t… half open. Or at least open enough to see your breasts almost falling out of your push-up bra.

He knew back then that he should say something. Tell you that this wasn’t appropriate to wear to work. But he didn’t. For the same reason, his mostly male staff began coming into work more punctually, more eagerly and stayed for even longer hours.

It was a mistake, he thinks now, not to say anything to you on your first day. Or any other day after that.

A mistake or the single best decision he had ever made.

Truth be told, he’d never called you into his office to discuss his decision to let you go if it was only about the clothes (or lack thereof) you wore to work. No, he was fine with the clothes, more than fine, actually, if you took just one look at the amount of tissues discarded in his office’s trash can.

But… you lacked certain skills he had thought you’d easily have, considering your previous jobs. You struggled doing, in his opinion, the most basic tasks, and more or less let the others do the work for you. The work he paid you to do. Instead, you sat at your desk all day and played Solitaire or scrolled on Instagram.

The two of you almost never interacted, mainly because he was scared to say the wrong thing or stare too long at your breasts he couldn’t stop thinking about anyway. When it did happen that he had to talk to you, it mostly went with him going back to his office with a raging boner and a guilty conscience.

One time, he brought back some prints from the copy room, only to find out you had been the one to print them. When he asked around the room and you were the one to raise your hand and get up from your chair he almost choked on his spit. You made your way over him, your tight dress hugging every single one of your curves, the slit in the side showing off where your stockings began, the neckline down far enough for him to see the lacy material of your bra once again.

“Thank you, Mr. Lee, Sir,” you smiled at him, your fingers touching his when you reached for the pile of papers. He felt like you shot him and as a result, he shot a huge load of cum into one of his tissues when he was back in his office.

Then, he met you at the coffee maker one time, witnessing you eat a fucking banana in one god damned bite. He couldn’t believe his eyes when you basically deepthroated the fruit all while looking directly into his eyes. He popped a boner right then and there.

All in all, it was safe to say the woman he had met in the interview was gone and he had absolutely no clue why or how he had let you fool him that day you met.

A part of him was angry at himself for letting it get this far, but he couldn’t deny that with every glimpse of your exposed ass and tits, with every encounter like the prints or the banana, he decided to give you one last chance to prove yourself. So far he had given you about 151 chances and you’d screwed up all of them.

Which is how he ended up calling you into his office.

Which is how you ended up sitting in front of his desk on one of the comfortable dark red armchairs, your legs crossed, yet another mini-skirt rising up far enough for Seokmin to at least imagine he can smell you. The shirt you were wearing was tight and cropped and your blazer was lazily hung over the back of the armchair.

“So, Y/N,” he began, shifting on his seat and trying very hard not to look at your tits, “do you have any idea why I called you in here?”

You shook your head no.

“No, sir, I don’t. Did I do something wrong?”

Sir. Oh good lord, Seokmin had to swallow down the pathetic moan he feels creeping up his throat.

“Well,” he cleared his throat, “I have noticed that you’ve been handing your work off to Chan a lot. Soonyoung as well, and while I understand you’re the newest employee, you have been here for almost five months now, Y/N, and I did expect you to already, you know, do at least a certain amount of work by yourself.”

Your eyes widened the more he spoke, your pout prominent once he finished.

“I’m sorry, Sir, truly! They always offered to help me and I just- I just didn’t want to disappoint them,” your voice strained, almost sounding like you were about to start crying. Seokmin felt his heart speed up.

“I understand that. But still - it must make sense to you that-,”

You jumping up from your chair made him stop mid sentence. He watched how you stalked over to him, your big eyes staring him down with something he couldn’t pinpoint even if he tried.

“It does make sense, Sir, and I want to apologize. I can do better, please don’t fire me.”

Seokmin was frozen in his chair, his seated figure looking up at you, almost panicking when he realized how close you were. If he raised his hand now, he could touch your thigh, could let it slip higher, could-

“Please, Mr. Lee, I’d do anything to keep this job.”

Which is how we get to… now.

His phone is still ringing on the desk, but he’s still nowhere near answering it. He is too focused on your mouth around his rock-hard cock, on the way you look up at him with watery eyes, on the way your hand is fondling his aching balls.

You dropping to your knees might have been the single most hottest thing he has ever seen before. Or well, maybe this right now tops it. Your tongue is flat against his shaft, dragging it along his veins, licking up all the precum that doesn’t directly land in your mouth. You suck on his tip, tease his slit, and moan when you take him all the way.

And Seokmin? He thinks he might have just entered heaven. His hands are itching to touch you, to push you down and fuck up, to lose control, but he doesn’t. Instead, he watches you with his mouth dropped, with his heart going at triple speed in his chest.

This is wrong. So, so wrong! He shouldn’t let you suck his cock as a way to keep your job, for god’s sake!

Once his tip crashes against the back of your throat, his mind goes blank, and all the thoughts from before disappear. They make room for new thoughts instead, thoughts that finally allow him to do what he wanted to from the second you had walked in on your first day.

The groan he lets out causes you to drip into your panties. And the way his hands now find the back of your head almost makes you come. Your eyes roll back for a second, before you bring them back to look at your boss.

Your extremely hot, perfect boss who took so fucking long to bring you into his office. Who could not take a hint at-fucking-all.

He begins to thrust up into your throat, letting out moans you wish you could record and replay as many times as you wished. His cock is big, just as big as you had hoped it to be. He’s veiny and perfect and his angry red tip is going to become your favorite thing to suck on. He tastes salty and sweet and bitter at the same time, melts on your tongue, and gets you to clench around absolutely nothing.

“Fuck,” he cries out when he picks up his speed, nails digging into your scalp as he continues his hard and fast thrusts, his cock beginning to twitch, his balls tightening dangerously. You need him, want him and almost demand him to come down your throat. To give you everything he has to offer. You press your tongue harder against his shaft, cheeks hollowed out, and you can feel his orgasm nearing with every passing second.

“I’m gonna- fu-fuck, I’m gonna c-come!” His cry is almost taking you over the edge too.

Seokmin sees red and white at the same time, opens his eyes, and stares down at you with his pupils blown and his cock finally emptying his seed inside your awaiting mouth. It almost breaks him, seeing how you swallow all of his cum like a pro, never breaking eye contact.

Breathless, Seokmin slowly gets down from his high, watching how you lick up his cock, your eyes twinkling with mischief, giving his tip a small kiss before finally leaning back, batting your eyelashes.

“So tasty, Mr. Lee. Now, should I get back to work?”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

It kind of becomes a thing. At the beginning, Seokmin calls you into his office and you suck his cock, make him come, go back to work. All while still wearing your skimpy outfits to work and doing the minimum requirements to not be a complete waste of Seokmin’s money. Even though he figures with a cold shiver running down his spine, it seems like he’s paying you for something totally different now.

You’re enjoying this to the fullest, having a right out blast. Not just because you get to have Seokmin fuck your throat every other day, no, but because of how he looks at you. When you met him that first day at the interview, you already knew you wanted him. Knew he was going to be your next little project. So far you had never failed, and you sure as hell weren’t going to start now.

Working at the company for five months hadn’t exactly been your plan, though. Five months until he finally called you into his office. Five months of you choosing the most outrageous outfits, knowing every single man in that office wanted a taste of you, but only wanting one of them to actually act on it.

“Holy fucking hell, yeah, just- just like that,” he’s leaning against the wall behind his desk, you back on your knees, his cock hitting the soft inside of your cheek over and over again. He’s holding onto your hair with one hand while the other is pressed against the wall next to him. You lick and suck and fuck his cock against your cheek, drool running down your chin. You’re painfully wet, throbbing, and needing him to finally put his cock in you.

By now (3 weeks after your little blowjob-job started) you know his tells, can sense when he’s about to come. So, when you hear that first little noise, you let go of his cock with a plop and get up. Seokmin’s eyes open and he looks at you, visibly confused.

“Wha-,” he begins, but you just take a step forward and crush your lips against his, your hands grabbing his face.

For the first few seconds, Seokmin doesn’t really grasp the situation. You’re kissing him. He begins to melt, his hands somehow finding their way to your waist and when you lead him back, suddenly seated on his desk, his mind goes blank. You want him to fuck you. Want his cock to go inside that probably sweet tasting pussy of yours. He moans into your mouth.

“Take me, Mr. Lee, please, need your cock in me, need you to fuck me,” you whisper into his ear, biting his earlobe after and sighing in relief when he immediately moves to get your panties off of you.

“Fuck, fuck, you’re so hot.” He kisses you again, wild and uncontrolled, your panties now landing on the floor. You part your legs and grab his cock, bringing it to your awaiting entrance. There is no stopping the moan that escapes you once his tip slips in, your teeth sinking into his bottom lip harshly. He licks over your teeth, feels his mind fog up, no thoughts just you, you, you.

Then, he’s fully inside of you. Twitches, groans, kisses you harder. And fucks you like a god-damned beast.

The pace he sets is brutal and you’re lucky it’s after hours so no one is at the office anymore. They for sure would have heard the way the desk is bouncing against the floor with every thrust as well as your high pitched moans, and Seokmin’s low growls.

He fucks you like he owns you and you live for it. His cock drags along your walls, fills you like he was made for you, hits your sweet spot over and over again as if he’d done this thousand times before.

“Fuck, yes!” You basically scream, your body falling backward, only his strong hands holding you up as he speeds up once more.

“God, shit, how are you so tight, baby?” He moves to kiss your neck, licks over the salty skin, revels in your taste, in the way you shiver under his touch. You wanna scream and cry and mark his body with your mouth and nails - and so you begin to pull on the hem of his shirt, which he gladly helps you to take off completely.

He’s built like a god. Wide shoulders, bulked up arms, abs like they were painted on. You let your nails drag over his torso, finally sliding them to his strong, muscular back. When he pushes into you even more, his lips not getting enough of your own, you dig into his flesh and hear him hiss. Still, he doesn’t stop. If anything, he goes even harder. Fucks you til you scream his name while experiencing the most intense orgasm of your life, milking his cock of all he had, cum filling your pussy to the brim.

After that it spirals.

He fucks you every chance he gets. He is addicted to you and your pussy. Whenever he needs you, he gets to have you.

He bends you over his desk during work hours, drilling into your pussy like a mad man while pressing his hand over your mouth to make sure no one notices. He comes inside you and stuffs it all back in there with his fingers, pulls your panties back up and sends you out to continue your work day as before.

When lunch time comes around, you meet him in the building’s cafeteria and he drags you to the nearest supply closet to fuck your mouth and then your cunt, telling you what a good little slut you are and how well you always take him.

He sends you pictures of his hard cock after work, begging you to come to his place and bounce on him - but you never do. It’s a game for both of you. No fucking outside of work, no dates or anything like that. He gets to keep fucking you and you get to keep your job - easy as that.

Just that… you’re not really bad at your job. Seokmin is slow to figure that one out, you realize.

When your seventh month at the company begins, he is so focused on getting his cock inside of you, he doesn’t even notice you’ve stopped handing off your assignments to your colleagues. You’ve actually grown quite fond of this job and the team - and Seokmin for that matter. Not that you want to admit that to him, or confess that you’ve been playing this part of the dumb girl with the slutty outfits simply to get his attention.

“I love when you get to the office with no panties on, gods, you’re a dirty little whore.” Seokmin’s hands are on your ass while you bounce on his cock. He’s sitting on his desk chair, admiring the view of your tits as you fuck yourself on his cock. His dirty words make your pussy flutter around him and you whimper, your hands braced on his shoulders.

“Mhmm, only a whore for you, Mr. Lee,” you moan, biting down on your lip. There is no chance you’ll ever grow tired of seeing the way he looks at you when you fuck. His hooded eyes, his red lips dropped open. His cheeks flushed and his hair a mess.

You enjoy being on top, enjoy watching him watch you, setting your own pace until he can’t hold back any longer and wraps his arm around your waist, pushing you down so he can fuck into you at his desired speed.

“That’s right, you’re my whore, your pussy belongs only to me.” He squeezes your ass cheeks and moans when you clench around him again, thrusting his hips up once. You can tell he’s about to lose control, about to hold you down and fuck you senseless. There is nothing quite as hot as Seokmin losing his composure.

Just two days ago, you teased him by being flirty with Soonyoung all day. Seokmin had not thought of himself as possessive, but somehow when it came to you…

Safe to say, he fucked you against his office door two minutes after your last encounter with Soonyoung, simply shoving up your skirt and ripping off your panties, his cock deeply buried inside of you the next second. He fucked you so hard you couldn’t properly walk even the day after.

“Yes, Mr. Lee, my pussy belongs to you, I am yours, Sir.”

You bounce on his cock quicker now, throwing your head back when his hands move to your breasts, taking them both into his hands and cradling them. His fingers press onto your nipples, squeezing them between his thumb and forefinger, pinching and teasing you. With every touch of his, you feel yourself nearing your high.

“You’re so beautiful, always so good for me, isn’t that right?” He breathes out, licking his lips as his eyes are glued to the way your tits look between his hands.

He fucked them a few days ago, your tits. Had you kneeling between his legs, squeezing them together as he fucked his cock between them with the lube he now stored in his bottom drawer. They had felt amazing around him, but nothing compared to your cunt, to its warmth, to its tightness.

“Oh- oh! I’m- I’m gonna come, Mr. Lee! Please, can I come?!” Your orgasm is so close, is ready to crash down on you and when Seokmin moaned out a yes, you let it happen. Waves and waves of pleasure erupt in your body and make you fall forward against his chest, his hips now beginning to thrust up, his moans turning more and more desperate.

“Good girl, such a good girl, fuck- I’m gonna fill you up, yeah? Fill you up with my cum, breed you like my own personal whore, hm?”

Your nails dig into his skin desperately as he fucks you fast and hard, his right arm now around your waist, pressing you down while he uses you for his pleasure, crying out your name when he comes - white hot cum landing inside your spent pussy, painting it the colours of his affection for you.

Seokmin fucks both of you through your orgasms, whispering sweet nothings into your ear, kissing your lips passionately when his hips still. You kiss him back, arms wrapping around his neck, your high still present in your bones.

“You’re perfect,” Seokmin mumbles against your lips and you smile, kissing him again, fingers brushing through his hair.

For a while, you make-out just like that, him still safely buried inside of you, some bits of your combined releases dripping down onto his chair.

Only when Seokmin’s phone rings do the two of you part. You give his cheek a small kiss before climbing off his lap and looking for your underwear, all while you put your dress back into its place. Your boss watches you, wishes he could just do this all over again instead of answering his phone. Reluctantly, he takes the call and watches how you wave at him, panties back on and clothes and shoes back where they belong. He waves back, greeting the business partner on the other line.

And when you leave his office and close the door behind you, when none of your co-workers even pay you any mind, you realize that maybe you like to keep it this way for just a little while longer.

[miryum]

A Green and Silver Ring (Mattheo Riddle x Reader)

An arranged marriage between you and Mattheo, one that might lead to something beautiful

Word Count: 10.3k

I know I haven't posted in a long time but I have a plan trust the process. Also, this is me coming out and saying that I love Mattheo Riddle and he's amazing

Warnings: Swearing, bad and manipulative parenting from both Mattheo and reader’s parents, a lot of misogyny (a bit from Mattheo but he gets better by a lot and it’s not that bad), arguments, Tom isn’t Mattheo’s brother and Tom is a creep, arranged marriage, one bed trope, enemies to lovers, greek mythology reference, talk of kids, needing kids to carry on family lines, and kids. Mistress is the feminine term for master (so reader isn’t Mattheo’s side piece when I refer to her as mistress), old timey talk a bit, reader is a bookworm

From the desk of Ginevra

My dearest friend,

My parents have informed me of your engagement. I was ecstatic, yet surprised, when I heard the news. I was of the assumption that your parents were allowing you to choose your husband as your family line is secure in your brother and his wife. Yet, once I learned who your husband-to-be is, I was trepidatious. 

My thoughts are with you, my darling friend, and I pray for you to write to me the moment you get my letter. 

I hate to break the news, but you and your fiancé are the talk of high society. Never before have two such families been intertwined. Even I have had to scold my brothers for their gossip. They seem to forget that our families are close friends. 

I do not ask why your parents have made such a decision. I know they are intelligent adults and surely must have a motive, but I admit that I am blind in that regard. Your engagement seems sudden and unwarranted to me. When questioned, my mother sighed and said I would understand when I grew older. My mother continues to baffle me. I have borne two children and a third on the way! If I am not mature now, I better gain some knowledge quickly. 

Always remember that I am by your side. If you ever need anything, my door is always open to you. I am sure Harry will agree. 

I love you, my friend.

Ginny

From the office of Lorenzo

Miss. L/n,

I believe we’ve never been formally introduced. I’m saddened to say that this letter is as formal as we’ll get - at least until your wedding. I am sure you must be taciturn and mercurial as of now. My father has told me much about you and I believe we’ll make excellent friends and confidants in our hectic world. 

You’re to be my new half-sister, aren’t you? My relatives and friends are petulant to meet you. 

Before any rumours (either about myself or your fiancé) hit your ears, I’ll put a rest to them. Bellatrix, your fiancé’s mother, had an affair with my father. They produced me and in return, I have the privilege of being your fiancé’s half-brother. 

Being a bastard child, I’m no stranger to being ostracised and ridiculed. To be blunt, I’m sure that you will be ostracised alongside me and I believe that is one reason we can connect. 

For rumours of my half-brother, I simply say this: do not fear him. He relishes in the consternation he places in other people, yet when he heard he was to marry you, I saw panic in his eyes like no other. It seems the tables have turned. He is hesitant to be wed, but you are not the problem. He simply doesn’t want to have the responsibility of another’s life on his. Your fiancé is used to belittling people - not supporting them as a husband should.

Any questions you have about your fiancé and my half-brother (whom in case I didn’t make clear, are one and the same), refer to me without any qualms. I am eager to meet you and hopefully make your transition into the Riddle family smoother.

I am well aware you have also lived your life in the upper echelons of society. But, as I’m sure you know, there are multiple circles in our complicated community. The L/ns, the Weasleys, and the Potters, for example, have grown their fortunes truthfully and innocently. They have earned the respect of their people and those whom they employ. The Riddles, Blacks, and Berkshires, on the other hand, have climbed the ranks in unconventional means and by skipping a few rungs on the ladder. They thrive and make their living on the terror and duress they cause those under them.

I’m looking forward to making your acquaintance.

Lorenzo Berkshire

P.S. I hope I haven’t scared you off.

From the office of L/n

Daughter,

You’ll be pleased to hear the engagement has gone through. Your mother and I met your fiancé last night. He seems like a nice man. He will be able to provide for you. His family is influential.

We will return home late tomorrow evening. You will depart for Riddle Estate in a week. Begin packing. 

Your father

From the desk of Ginevra

Y/n,

You worry me with your lack of communication. Usually, you can’t wait to gossip with me. We have such fun at dinners and balls, yet with the most important aspect of yourself, you don’t respond. I’m simply worried, my friend. Are you alright? I can envision you curled in your bed, not letting anyone, even your nursemaid, into your room. Please do not let your impending marriage affect your state of health. It will turn out alright. Everyone I know (even me!) had apprehensions about their marriage. And with everyone I know, it turned out alright. 

Misters Sirius and Remus visited Harry and I the day before last. They came to see James and Albus, but I know there was a hidden reason as well. They know of our friendship and came to ask if the rumours are true. As much as my husband adores them, Sirius in particular can be prone to gossip. The pair tittered and tsked when I told them of your fiancé. Sirius wishes to distance himself from his family, and I know he has pre-existing thoughts of the Black family, and by extension, the Riddles.

Sometimes I take a moment to gaze at the family tree upon my drawing room wall. It is full of interconnected lines and squiggles that sometimes, it makes my head hurt! The web of family ties is complicated and if we’re not somehow related already, I know that we will be once your marriage takes place. It seems the Black family spreads its roots into the Weasley family and the Riddle family- the latter of which you’ll soon be synonymous with.

Give yourself some grace. Your fiancé falls far from the tree; I am sure of it.

Please write to me. I need to make sure my closest friend is doing well. 

Best wishes, 

Ginny

P.S. Hermione wishes to inform you that, from what she’s heard, your Mr. Riddle is quite attractive. I have yet to hear any of the rumours  myself, but at least your husband will be pleasing to the eye. Perhaps it will make the marriage more bearable. 

***

Mattheo strode leisurely through Riddle Manor. It was one of the many estates his family owned, and it was soon to be officially his. Just as soon as he married the L/n girl.

The manor was spacious, which Mattheo couldn’t help but detest. How was he and a wife supposed to fill this void of empty rooms and dark halls? He knew servants and cooks would move in, but they wouldn’t occupy the dozens of upper rooms that were vacated. 

For a brief moment, Mattheo couldn’t help but envision a set of children running around the halls. One of the children would run up to him, shouting, “Papa! Papa!” Mattheo would scoop the child up, grinning, and would carry them to their room. The room would be bright and cheerful, and maybe, just maybe, you would be sitting on a settee, cradling a newborn or helping an older child with their school work.

But for now, the room was dark and uninviting and he had yet to meet his future wife. He had seen a portrait of the L/n family and while they were in lavish, colourful clothing, Mr. and Mrs. L/n seemed cold and stoic - just like his parents. The children, an older son and younger daughter (whom he presumed to be you), seemed kinder and by their body language, Mattheo could tell that the two siblings were close. 

Mattheo slowly made his way down the hall. There were three wings of the manor; two were residential and the other was designed for taking guests. The East Wing - in which he and Miss. L/n would stay - was also fit with an office for him. He was expected to take over half of the family business once he got married. The West Wing would remain empty for now, sans for a large library and the furniture in the bedrooms. 

The boy knew that his bride was to arrive later that day. She would stay at Riddle Estate until the end of the week. Just three short days before they were to be wed in name. Mattheo would move into Riddle Manor tonight, giving servants time to wipe the dust off of tables, shine the silverware, and fluff the pillows. 

Mattheo walked the halls of his new home. His mind was devoid of any thoughts. Perhaps it was simply because he was always numb. Even when he heard of his engagement, Mattheo didn’t make a fuss. He didn’t remember thinking anything. Nothing such as ‘Oh, I can’t wait to meet her!’ or even, ‘I can’t believe mother and father are arranging my marriage! She better be obedient.’ 

No, Mattheo had thought nothing of the sort. He had spent his childhood quietly observing his father and mother, noticing the amount of fear they could inflict on people just by silence. You didn’t have to be loud and dramatic to be powerful. You simply couldn’t be afraid to follow up on your promises - however deadly they were. 

The only question Mattheo had asked when Bellatrix informed him of his engagement was, “and what do we gain from the L/n’s?”

Bellatrix had shot him an callous and apathetic look. “Do not ask questions you needn’t the answers to, boy.” 

Mattheo had glowered, but shut his mouth. 

As he neared the foyer, Mattheo couldn’t help but think how marriage was a component in all aspects of his life. When he got married to the L/n girl, he would inherit a portion of his father’s estates, company, and wealth. Mattheo chucked to himself. Maybe he should’ve gotten married sooner.

***

“Pray tell, why weren’t you here when she arrived?” Bellatrix snarled as she gripped Mattheo’s arm. Her nails dug into his suit as she dragged him towards the drawing room.

“I was busy,” Mattheo replied harshly. Love was not a thing that came instinctively to his family. 

“Doing what? Planning your suidide?” Bellatrix scoffed. “I would march to the Underworld and choke Hades to bring you back.” Mattheo glanced down at his mother, hesitantly surprised. But he knew better than to raise his hopes and dreams. “We need this contract with the L/n’s,” Bellatrix continued and Mattheo’s jaw ticked. Of course. She didn’t love him; she never had. Her son was purely business. He should’ve known better.

“Maybe if you would tell me what the L/n’s provide for us,” Mattheo pulled Bellatrix back before she threw open the door to where you were. “Then I would be more complacent.”

Bellatrix sneered. “You think you’re smart, boy. You think you have everything figured out in that pretty little head of yours. But remember: you’re nothing without the Riddle family name backing you up.” She paused and licked her lips. “But if you must know,” Bellatrix sighed, giving into Mattheo. “The L/n’s just came into some very… lucrative land that we could gain from if you marry Miss. Y/n L/n.”

Mattheo’s eyes flickered to the drawing room door. After a moment, he asked, “is that her name? Y/n?” 

Bellatrix stared at him, aghast. “You didn’t bother to learn her name?!” She scoffed. “With a son like you…” 

She pushed open the drawing room doors and Mattheo trudged after her, muttering, “at least I know her name now.”

You had been waiting for seven minutes and thirty nine seconds in the drawing room of Riddle Estate, the trackage of time dependent on the old grandfather clock standing ominously in the corner. Its pendulum swung back and forth continuously as its second hand ticked by. Mrs. Riddle had left seven minutes and thirty nine seconds ago to fetch her son. 

While the room was perfectly clean, not a speck of dust on even the highest chandelier, it was still a cold and morose room, yet oddly epochal. The wood was the darkest mahogany you had ever seen and the lights cast odd shadows on the dark green wallpaper that had inlays of gold.

Your teacup that you were trying to hold steady was filled with a sad excuse for tea. There was a ring of gold around the mouth of the teacup. On the table beside you, a notch that looked as if someone dug a knife into the surface caught your attention. It was the little things like this that you noticed when you had nothing else to do. Your mind was trying to distract you.

The door then swung open and there stood your fiancé, his stare daring you to oppose him.

“Uh,” you stood, your teacup and saucer still in hand. You quickly placed them on the table, right over the knife nick. “Y/n L/n,” you introduced yourself. You bowed your head in an informal curtsy. 

Mattheo’s eyes flickered over your face. “Mattheo Riddle,” he said coldly. His voice was practically velvet. You didn’t mean to look him up and down, but you couldn’t help it. He was to be your husband, after all.

Mattheo’s hair coiled at the end and his eyes were just as dark as his curls. His nose had a scarred cut on it that looked as if it was just beginning to heal. Your fiancés cheekbones were practically sculpted from marble and for a moment, you believed that the gods had simply breathed life into a statue. Did this make you Pygmalion and Mattheo Galatea?

If it weren’t for their lethal eyes and stern posture, perhaps more would be friendly to the Riddles.

Mattheo spoke, “you’re to be my fiancée.” It wasn’t a question. 

“Yes.” You had the urge to add ‘sir’ at the end, but you bit your tongue. 

Bellatrix hissed something to Mattheo and thrust a small object into his hands. Mattheo rolled his eyes and stalked towards you. “My family ring,” he grumbled. He held out an intricate silver ring with three bands interweaving. A green jewel cut into a thin diamond shape sat steadily in the middle. “It has been in the Riddle family for generations. It’s tradition to pass it down to the wife of the firstborn son. And now that is you…” 

He trailed off and handed the ring to you, it laying flat on his palm. You took it from him, trying to minimise contact with Mattheo. You nodded in thanks and slid it into your ring finger. 

It seemed too concrete to fathom.

Mattheo stared at the ring on your finger. A muscle jumped in his jaw. “My… wife,” he murmured halfheartedly.

***

Three weeks had passed since the wedding and it was as if you had never gotten married in the first place. Yes, it was unsettling to wake up in a bed that wasn’t your own next to a man that you were supposed to call your own. But other than necessary, Mattheo had hardly uttered a word to you.

In the three weeks you had stayed there, you had seen Mattheo a total of twenty eight times, including mornings and nights when you were forced to sleep in the same bed. 

Your mornings, afternoons, and nights were all incredibly boring. You took long meals, pushing your food around. Sometimes you just sat by the window and watched the wind blow bits of grass and dirt past the window. The servants were still extracting the dust between the couch cushions and you tried to stay out of the way, but it only made you feel more isolated.

Mattheo was holed up in his office day in and day out. He had now inherited a large portion of his father’s company and Mattheo was determined to uphold the honour bestowed upon him. He had drafted contracts, sold and bought land, and even hosted a few dinner parties for his associates. 

You detested the dinner parties. Thankfully, Mattheo had yet to invite you to one - hell, he had yet to speak to you about the dinner parties. You had learned of the first dinner party when you had wandered downstairs one late evening because you were thirsty. You had stared at the group of strangers, all dressed in elegance, as they stared back at you in your night clothes. Not saying a word, you had sighed and returned upstairs.

You hadn’t been eager for the marriage, but wouldn't it befit Mattheo to show some affection? Or at least acknowledge your presence?

While you had continuously tried to get your husband to open up to you, his answers had been short and venomous.

It had been a long, monotonous day for you. You had returned to the master bedroom about two hours earlier than you normally would have if you were at home.

With the wealth that you came from, the opulence was sure to be evident, but you had underestimated the Riddle family’s prestige. When Mattheo had first shown you your shared bedroom, you had to allow a flicker of surprise break through your facade. The bedroom was larger than any room in your old home and had a large bed in the middle. The lamps on the bedside table were always dimly lit and the design of the room was the same as the rest of the house - dark and bereft of love and care. 

Your hair had been brushed enough, but you kept brushing simply for something to do while Mattheo finished up in the bathroom. Mattheo walked out of the ensuite with a towel wrapped around his waist. His curls were plastered to his forehead and a bead of water ran down his sternum.

Your eyes flickered to his figure through the mirror, taking in the dips and curves of Mattheo’s muscles as he silently got ready for bed. You tore your gaze away, berating yourself.

You built up your courage and tried to think of a conversation starter. You commented, “my parents wrote to me today.” After no reply from Mattheo, you continued, “they asked me when we would give them grandchildren.” You set your hairbrush down and stared at Mattheo through the mirror, looking for some sort of reaction.

Mattheo hummed noncommittally and put on some sleep pants. He used his towel to begin drying his hair. “It would be behoove us to produce some heirs,” he spoke. His tone was dismissive, as if children were nothing more than an obligation or duty to fulfil.

“Right,” you muttered, knowing that an uninterested reaction was all you were going to get out of him. 

You stood and moved towards the bed. “Goodnight,” you whispered, turning off the bedside lamp and tucking yourself into bed. Mattheo was still putting on his nightclothes and had yet to get into bed.

As you turned off the light and got into bed, Mattheo finished drying himself off and slid into his own pyjamas. He sat down beside you, but didn't bother turning off his own lamp. Instead, he laid against the headboard, reading a book. "Goodnight," he finally mumbled, not even looking at you.

You curled into your blanket. After a moment, you asked quietly, “what book are you reading?”

He looked at you over the top of his book. "None of your business," he replied curtly.

You simply uttered, “okay.” 

Mattheo felt an unwanted and unusual feeling root itself deep in his stomach. He scoffed and said sarcastically, "fine. Go ahead and keep asking questions all night long if it amuses you so." He opened his book again and pretended to read.

A longing and lonely pang resonated in your chest at his harsh words. You didn’t respond and instead turned your face into your pillow. You had known that your marriage was to be loveless, but it still hurt at every unspoken word. Perhaps, if you had been five years younger when you married Mattheo, your spirit would still be alive with the juvenile belief that you could stand up to him.

Mattheo huffed and his gaze turned up to stare at the wall ahead of him. “If you’re so miserable, then why don’t you just leave?” he snapped, not even bothering to hide his bitterness. “I am sure your family would simply love to have you back.” He flipped another page in his book, not even bothering to look at the printed words.

“I never said I was miserable,” you answered quietly, even though Mattheo knew it wasn’t true. Perhaps, though, you believed it to be true. You took a steadying breath, closing your eyes.

Your husband smirked and leaned against the headboard. “What do you call your attitude, then? Why are you so downtrodden and defeated? Surely, you can’t blame me for being frustrated by it.” He knew that he should be taking account of making you feel this way, but he still tried to justify his behaviour. 

“Goodnight,” you reiterated. 

Mattheo sighed dramatically. “Whatever,” he grunted. He closed his book, threw it on the nightstand, and turned off his lamp. The room was encased in darkness except for the dim moonlight coming through the window. He shifted towards the edge of the bed, making sure a noticeable gap was between the two of you. 

He thought back to your conversation. “Why don’t you just leave?” 

It was too late now to apologise.

***

Mattheo let the door swing shut behind him, returning to Riddle Manor after an outing with friends. He glanced around, waiting for a servant to take his coat, but no one answered. An eyebrow cocked, Mattheo slowly walked up the stairs, hearing you instruct the servants on something, every other sentence of yours either containing, ‘please’ or ‘thank you’. Up on the landing, he found you directing a servant who was pulling a rack of your clothing. “What the hell are you doing?” he demanded. “Have you lost your damn mind? Are you trying to send a message or something?” 

“You’ve made it perfectly clear that you have no interest in me, so I’m trying to make this marriage as civilised as possible,” you said diplomatically. “I believe that if I move to the West Wing and leave you in the East Wing, it will benefit our marriage.”

“What exactly do you hope to accomplish with this piteous attempt at attention?” he asked rhetorically. “Do you think it’ll make me want you more?” He stuck his tongue in his cheek, grinning incredulously. “You’re delusional if you think that’s even remotely possible.” He stepped closer to you, towering over you with anger in his eyes. “This is not some game, L/n. This is marriage. You’re stuck with me whether you like it or not.” 

“I’m aware that we’re married, Riddle,” you retorted. “And don’t refer to me by L/n anymore. I am now a Riddle - just like you. However, I am not going to live in a state of constant sorrow and dejection. Having a wing of the mansion to myself may help.” 

Mattheo’s jaw tightened as he stared at you, irritated by your resistance. “Fine,” he growled. “But don’t expect me to come running after you when you decide you want attention. You’re on your own now.” He turned away from you and walked into his now solo bedroom. “Just remember - this is your choice.” 

You felt your anger inflate. “I thought you would like this!” Your voice rose and you tugged a hand through your hair. It was the first time in your marriage that you had fought back. “I have done everything I can to please you, yet nothing is enough for you!” Your voice turned desperate. “What do you want from me?”

He stopped in his tracks, turning around with surprise and disgust on his face. “Dammit, Y/n! Don’t yell at me like that!” His voice thundered, stepping towards you. “I never asked for any of this! I didn’t ask for a wife or for you to try so hard to please me! All of this is ridiculous.” His hand slashed through the air to make a point. “All I want is some space. Space to figure out what the hell I want. But let’s make one thing clear: I don’t care about you.”

“Am I not giving you space?” Your fists clenched at your sides. “I am moving out of the bedroom and out of your way. Yet, you erupt at me and get angry over nothing! You send me mixed messages and I don’t know what to do.”

Mattheo took a breath, trying to regain control over his emotions. “I am not erupting! Lord, you are so sensitive!” he snapped, running a hand over his face. “Can’t you listen for once? I am not sending you mixed signals. I am trying to figure out my place in this unorthodox situation we’re in.”

After a beat of silence, you asked firmly, “did you talk about me?” After seeing a flicker of confusion on his face, you clarified, “when you were out with your friends, did you talk about me? Did you rant about how annoying I was? Did you complain about marriage?”

His lips parted before taking a breath. “Yes, I talked about you,” he admitted begrudgingly. “I complained about how frustrating I find you and how frustrated I am with my parents for arranging this senseless marriage.”

“What did they say?” you insisted. “Did they sympathise? Did they laugh at me? Did they add fuel to your fire by commenting about how… how ‘needy’ and ‘sensitive’ I am?”

Mattheo made a low sound in his chest and rubbed his temples, frustrated by your persistence. “They agreed with me, yes. A few believed that you are too emotionally attached and sentimental. Others chalked it up to the pains of an average marriage.”

Your anger flared up and you said, “Let me tell you this: I never wanted marriage either. But I at least tried. I tried to be a nice and loving wife and a kind human.” You turned on your heel, marching out of the bedroom and towards the West Wing.

Mattheo watched you go, an unwanted feeling of guilt washing over him. He sighed and walked over to the window. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath. “Why is everything so damn complicated?”

For the next couple of weeks, you stayed true to your word. You avoided Mattheo and his office and stayed in your wing of the mansion. After a week or two, you decided to explore the mansion, stumbling upon a magnificent library. You inhaled in veneration when someone cleared their throat. Mattheo stood behind you, raising an brow. After a silence, you said recalcitrantly, “you never told me that Riddle Manor had a library.”

He smirked at your thinly veiled hatred, amused despite himself. “Well, now you know,” he said dryly. “It’s a perk of living in a Riddle household.” He walked over to a bookshelf and began browsing for a book he required for a contract that was being drafting. He showed no sign of embarrassment or discomfort at your presence. “You may use it whenever you want. But don’t expect me to join a book club or anything juvenile.”

“I would never dream of it,” you said sarcastically. You step further into the library and can’t help but gape at the vastness. You trailed your fingers over the book spines, breathing in the smell of old books. You crouched down to examine a series of poetry titles. “I can read any of these?” you asked hesitantly.

He nodded and leaned against the shelf behind him, crossing his arms over his chest. “Feel free to read whatever you would like. They’re here for the entire household. Well, the servants don’t have time to read books, so in a Riddle household, the parents and children use the library the most.” Your hand faltered over the titles. “If you find something that catches your eye, go ahead and take it. I won’t stop you.” There was a hint of curiosity in his voice, as if he wished to know what topics and books piqued your interest. You hummed quietly, not fully acknowledging his words. You were already picking up a book and leafing through it. Mattheo watched you for a moment, his eyes softening briefly.

Everyday, you returned to the library. It was an escape from the walls of your room and the walls that Mattheo had put up around his heart.

Eventually, the servants recognised your routine and began to start a fire in the fireplace to keep you warm. They moved a loveseat in front of the fire that you gratefully used. You devoured the poetry collection, including Shakespeare and Edgar Allen Poe, and started on the classics. Every once in a while, Mattheo would come into the library, but he wouldn’t talk. He simply took a book and returned to his study. Sometimes, you wondered if he remembered you lived in the mansion with him. 

Mattheo found himself frequenting the library more often, looking for books he had never needed before. A swell of pride filled him whenever he saw you by the fire, knowing that something in his home brought you such comfort. He still refused to speak to you, maintaining distance and ignoring your existence, but he found himself increasingly drawn to your presence. 

One day, on a whim, he decided to take a risk and left a stack of his favourite books on the table next to your chair. That afternoon, you found the stack of books. You smiled despite yourself, though you didn't make any comment to Mattheo. You picked up the first book, sat down in the chair, and began to read.

A week later, Mattheo was hosting a dinner party for his associates. He didn’t say a word about it to you, though you heard the servants preparing for it. You decided not to go, opting to stay in your safe haven of the library. 

After an hour or so of faint music, you heard the door to the library squeak open and your head whipped up. You saw one of Mattheo’s friends, Tom, enter and look around. He spotted you and his lips curled up into a smirk. “So you’re the wife we’ve heard so much about?” 

Your stomach clenched and you replied, “I guess so.”

Tom’s smirk grew wider as he took in your terse response, enjoying your obvious discomfort. He approached you with a lecherous gaze in his eyes before asking, “and how do you find life as Mrs. Riddle? Are you enjoying your… arrangement?” His words dripped with sarcasm, not believing for a moment that you and Mattheo were married for love.

You stared at him. “It has its perks,” you said simply.

Tom laughed derisively at your response, not convinced by your nonchalance. “And what are those perks?” he asked, moving closer to you. “Extravagant gifts? Luxurious vacations? Or simply the privilege of being married to such a powerful man?”

You squared your shoulders. “I am powerful without a man,” you said sharply. “I do not need a man to determine my worth and prowess.”

Tom scoffed. “Really? How exactly did you become powerful on your own?” he asked, challenging you. “I find it hard to believe that you could ever achieve anything significant without the backing of a powerful husband behind you.” He leaned in closer, grinning.

You closed your book with a snap. “The L/n family,” you said, talking of your maiden lineage, “has had control over many estates and affairs for decades. Without Mattheo Riddle, I would’ve inherited half of it, second only to my brother. I would’ve had four auspicious companies at my ready disposal, capable of doing most anything. So, yes, sir, I would have been momentous without him.”

Tom’s smirk faded as he recognised your family name. He remained undeterred, however, stating, “that explains why your husband was so eager to marry you. He must see you as a valuable asset to his business empire.”

As you opened your mouth to retort, the door banged open and Mattheo strode into the library.

Mattheo had noticed Tom’s absence from his party, but when it became too long to be excused as a restroom break, Mattheo had asked his brother, Enzo, if he had seen where he had gone. Enzo had smiled a small smile and whispered, “Tom went to the library. Where your darling wife stays hidden.”

Mattheo saw red. 

He barged into the library, a deadly, lethal, and borderline possessive look deep in his eyes. When he saw Tom flanking you, Mattheo’s expression darkened and his hands clenched into a ready fist. “What the hell are you doing here?” Mattheo demanded, his voice low and dangerous. “This is a private wing of my home - not some place for you to bother my wife.” 

Mattheo moved closer to you, placing himself between you and Tom as if to protect you from further harm. 

Tom quickly stepped back and placed a confident demeanour on his face. “I was simply having a conversation with your lovely wife here,” Tom gritted his teeth.

You scoffed and rolled your eyes, showing clearly that Tom was lying and intruding. You saw Mattheo’s eyes flicker down to you, his eyes softening reassuringly before snapping back to Tom, malice in his gaze. 

“Don’t lie to me,” Mattheo snapped at Tom. “There’s no need for any sort of interaction or conversation with my wife unless I am present.” Mattheo placed a hand on the top of your chair, his fingers gripping it and his bicep flexing slightly to warn Tom.

Tom’s eyes flicked with something you hadn’t seen before: fear. Fear commonly associated with the Riddle name. He adjusted his collar and straightened his posture. “Of course, Mr. Riddle,” he said bitterly.

You raised a brow. “I think it’s time for you to go now,” you said, your face stoic. Tom bowed his head slightly before exiting the library. You didn’t look up to meet Mattheo’s eye. You murmured, “you didn’t have to do that. I had it covered.”

Mattheo watched Tom until he completely left the room before turning to look down on you. His voice was threatening, “you may have been able to handle Tom, but I won’t tolerate anyone disrespecting or harassing you while you’re under my roof. Consider this a warning - if anyone tries to cross you again, they will regret it.” 

“Perhaps you should tell your coworkers that. Not me,” you replied. 

Mattheo’s expression was cold. “Fine. I will,” he growled. “I will not sit idly by and allow anyone to disrespect my wife.” He let go of your chair and adjusted the cuffs of his suit. As if in a business meeting, he said, “And consider this another warning: if you continue to act so stubbornly, I won’t hesitate to remind you of your place in this marriage.”

“My place in this marriage is your wife!” you cried out, finally standing up. “Your equal! Something you seem to forget until it’s convenient for you. Or until another man threatens your… your property! I doubt you see me any differently than this house or your assets.”

Mattheo grabbed onto your arm tightly, pulling you close and leaning down so his face was inches from yours. “Do not ever speak to me like that. You are not my equal - you are my wife and I decide what is best for both of us. If you cannot accept that, then you should reconsider your place in this marriage.” He released your arm and turned away from you, striding towards the door. “I suggest you reflect on your behaviour,” he added icily, leaving the room without looking back.

After he left the library, you let out a scream of frustration. You shoved the pile of books that Mattheo had carefully curated to the floor. They tumbled down, book after book, covers opening and pages bending. Tears pricked at your eyes as you examined the scene. 

You slumped into your chair, the fire in front of your crackling softly, emitting a calming warmth.

Eventually, you fell asleep in the chair, tear stains on your cheeks. In the morning, you woke to the serene morning light filtering into the room - a vast contrast to your mood. The fire had dissolved into crackling embers. Tucked on top of you was a thick blanket and the stack of books that you had pushed over had been re-piled and stood majestically atop the table.

You sighed, knowing you should thank the servants for taking care of you and cleaning up. 

After you walked to the kitchen, your footfalls heavy, you thanked the servants, who were finishing preparing breakfast. They exchanged glances and one piped up, “Ma’am, while we appreciate the sentiment, we didn’t do that. We weren’t aware that you were still in the library. We believed you had retired to bed before the social last night.” They paused and then added, “however, Mr. Riddle didn’t go to bed. He was in his study until morning light.”

“Oh,” was all you could say. You bid them an awkward goodbye before entering the dining hall. 

Mattheo was already seated at the head of the table, his expression exhausted and distant. He didn’t acknowledge you when you approached, focusing instead on the uneaten plate of food in front of him. 

You sat down opposite him and muttered, “the servants informed me that you blanketed me last night and cleaned up the books.” You hesitated and finally said, “thank you.”

Mattheo looked up briefly, his expression unreadable, but he didn’t respond directly. “It was necessary,” he said simply. “You should not be cold and uncomfortable in your own home.” He doesn’t make any effort to engage in conversation beyond that. Something was weighing heavily on his mind and he seemed preoccupied by it.

You hummed in response. Eventually, you stood and whispered to your husband before walking out, “you are not as cold as you want to seem. You needn’t keep the facade up with me.”

Mattheo looked up briefly before returning to his food. His expression relaxed, but he didn’t respond.

***

Later that day, Mattheo sat in his study as he always did. A knock came from the door and he glanced at the clock. It was a bit early for lunch to be delivered, but he announced, “come in.”

The door creaked open and your head peeked into the room. Mattheo’s brows furrowed - not with malice, but with scrutiny. You entered and sat in one of the two seats next to his fireplace. Silently, you cracked open a book you had brought and began to read. 

Mattheo watched you intently, his gaze never wavering as he took in every detail of your face. He tried to find any acrimonious intent behind your actions, but you looked so peaceful. He found himself noticing the details of your face and your beauty as the fire cast warm highlights on your eyes. “What are you doing?” he asked eventually, his voice holding an armour of needed suspicion.

“Reading,” you said simply. 

Mattheo frowned, not convinced by your answer. Why would you read in his study after the way he had been treating you? He leaned back in his chair, his work forgotten. “Isn’t there something more important that you could be occupying your time with?” he challenged.

“Not particularly,” you responded. “You’re in charge of the companies and estates. I have nothing to do. I thought I would accompany you. You must get lonely in a study by yourself.”

Mattheo narrowed his eyes, but ultimately nodded slowly. “Alright,” he agreed after a moment. “But don’t think I will stop working simply because my wife is here.” His posture grew taut as he began looking over documents again. “This is still my office and I expect you to behave accordingly.”

“I’m simply reading,” you murmured, a smile inching its way up your lips.

Henceforth, a routine was established. Every morning, you would knock on Mattheo’s study door, usually an hour or so after he began working. There was rarely conversation, the silence being broken by Mattheo’s scratch of a quill or you turning pages, occasionally being disrupted by the loud crack of a log in the fire.

One day, you had finished your book (it was an excellent book, one from the pile Mattheo had recommended) and stood to go retrieve another one. At the sound of your footsteps leaving his office, Mattheo’s head darted up and he suddenly asked, “where are you going?” 

You paused and turned back to him. “I’m to get a new book. Unfortunately, as wonderful as this one was, it had an ending like all books do.”

Mattheo frowned and a hint of vulnerability broke through his exterior. “Get a servant to do it,” he offered. 

“Well, I don’t know which one I want,” you counted, raising a brow in a smirk.

He huffed and shook his head, returning his eyes to his documents. He grumbled, “I will commission the servants to build you a small bookshelf for my office. You can keep your books there.” You stood, watching him for a moment, admiring him until his gaze snapped up. “Well, go get your book,” he said sharply. “… but hurry back,” he added in a mumble. 

You finally smiled at him before exiting and Mattheo gazed at the place you once stood, trying to memorise how your lips curled up and your eyes crinkled when you smiled.

He rather liked it when you smiled.

***

“Are you alright?”

You sniffed and laughed. “Yes, yes. I’m being foolish.” You wiped some tears from your eyes. “My book is very good.”

Mattheo chuckled lowly. “And what made you cry, hm?”

“A daughter and father interaction,” you replied quietly. 

“Was the father cruel to the daughter?” Mattheo laughed tersely, shaking his head at his documents. “Are your feelings not strong enough to withstand their wrath?”

You frowned at Mattheo, setting the book down. “No,” you corrected slowly. “The father was being kind to his daughter. He was supporting her and loving her; as a father should.” There was a pause as Mattheo looked up at you. “I know that the Riddles are a harsher family - I’ve known ever since I knew I was to marry you. But… but are you alright?” 

You felt absurd asking the question. Yet, when Mattheo couldn’t meet your eye, a wistful sadness blanketing the room, you felt as if you should’ve asked the simple question weeks earlier.

For a moment, he said nothing. Then Mattheo turned in his chair so his back was facing you. "I'm fine," he finally answered, his voice rough and strained. "I am used to dealing with it, I suppose." Despite his insistence that he didn't need anyone's pity or concern, your words seem to have affected him more deeply than he wanted to admit. 

“May I ask a question?” you asked softly.

Mattheo hesitated for a moment before nodding, his eyes never leaving the window as he spoke. "Ask away," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. He then cleared his throat and said, "but I won’t give a warm and fuzzy answer." 

There was a pregnant pause in the air as you gathered your courage up and suddenly thrust your fears upon your husband. “If we ever have children, which we’re somewhat expected to,” you added hurriedly. “I don’t want them to grow up in a household where they feel as if they have to vie for love or attention. And I don’t want me to be the only one giving them attention.” Mattheo turned his head so his face was angled toward you, but his eyes could still stray to the window if need be. “If we have kids, can you promise that you’ll love them? Even if you don’t love me?” 

Even though your voice was steady, Mattheo knew of the vulnerability deeply rooted within you.

He nodded cautiously, his expression serious. "I promise," he said firmly. "I may not love you, but I will love our children unconditionally. They will never have to compete for my affection or feel neglected. I may not be a fond father, but I will provide for them and protect them as best I can." A protectiveness filled his veins just at the thought of something happening to his future children. 

You nodded once, a sad smile on your face. “Perhaps we’ll have a big family. Enough children to start a sports team.” You smiled at the thought, laughing lightly.

Mattheo smiled, despite himself, imagining a large brood of children running around the manor. It was an oddly appealing idea, even if he wouldn't admit it out loud. "We'll see," he said noncommittally. "I'd rather have lots of sons; they'll carry on the family name and ensure my legacy continues." He turned back around and attempted to focus on his work.

“And daughters too.” You frowned, staring at your husband, even if he wouldn’t spare you a glance. “Daughters can carry on the family name just as well as sons.” A muscle in your jaw ticked.

Mattheo scowled at your defiance, his eyes narrowing slightly. Why hadn’t you just fallen into line? "Fine, daughters too," he reluctantly agrees. "But make no mistake, they will be raised to be strong and capable like their brothers. The Riddle name demands nothing less." 

“And the sons can be soft and caring and sensitive,” you said firmly, crossing your arms. “I thought we agreed that they wouldn’t have to vie for affection. I thought we agreed that they wouldn’t have needless competition in their life. I don’t want them to grow up… like, well… you.” You finally uttered the words that had been hanging off your tongue dangerously. 

Mattheo’s expression hardened as he clenched his fist tightly. "Fine!" he snapped. "They can be whatever the hell you want them to be! But don't expect me to sit back and watch while they become weaklings and failures. We need to teach them to be strong and ruthless like I am." He stood up abruptly, knocking over his chair in the process.

You jump up after him, crossing towards him. You whirled to a stop in front of him, jabbing a finger towards his chest. “Listen here, Riddle. Just because someone is kind and vulnerable doesn’t mean they’re weak!” You growled, “and just because you grew up like that, does not mean that’s the type of household I am going to have.”

Mattheo stepped forward and his hand flew up to grip your wrist. His eyes blazed with anger, but then something changed in his expression and he took a step back, looking surprised at his own reaction. "You're right," he admitted begrudgingly. "I shouldn't have assumed that being vulnerable meant being weak." He ran a hand through his hair, looking embarrassed, yet resolute in his decision. "But don't expect me to be a pushover either. I'll still teach them to be strong and independent."

“Strong and independent are good qualities,” you conceded. “Both for the boys and girls.”

"Agreed," he said. Mattheo straightened his cuffs and cleared his throat. "Our children will be taught to be strong and independent, regardless of gender. They will know that they are loved and valued by both of us, equally." He held out his hand to you, indicating that the argument was over - for now at least. "Deal?" 

“Deal.” You shook his hand defiantly. It was a business deal, but a good deal at least.

Mattheo exhaled and brushed past you. “I’m to a meeting,” he informed you. It was a simple comment , one that was an offhand remark, but to you, Mattheo had just let you into his life. It was something he had never done before. Even if it was just a response to where he was off to, it was a window into his life. A life that now may have enough room to hold you. 

Mattheo paused when he reached the door. “I never knew the way I grew up was wrong until I saw other families. I saw the parents bending down to listen to their children instead of hushing them. I saw parents comforting their children after scraped knees, not pushing them to the kitchen for some rubbing alcohol. I saw parents beaming when their child could plunk out the simplest of tunes on the piano. No one else got berated for being out of rhythm or playing a D instead of an E. I never saw another child get slapped by their parents or scolded as harshly as I was. It was around then I realised that something was wrong. But what was I to do about it?”

Words dried in your throat. You wanted to cry at his words, but you felt dried out. How could someone treat their child like that? It explained so much… 

Your husband was a fragile man, you were just realising. And he was trying to pick up the pieces and present them to you in the only way he knew how. 

"The stars remind me of you,” he said quietly, the change in conversation sudden. “I mean that in the best possible way.” His voice was the softest and most tender as you had ever heard it. You hoped he would keep speaking the melodies that made your heart sing in tune. 

“How so?” you asked, afraid to break the plane of existence that you and Mattheo were carefully standing on.

"They are so beautiful, yet so far away. I may see them, but I can never touch them."

***

The servants didn’t know what to do. The master and mistress, Mr. and Mrs. Riddle, seemed to be at a ceasefire. The cooks lamented at how they had seemed to be doing so well. The maids thought they were destined to doom from the start. The butlers gossiped about Mr. Riddle’s letters to a Mr. Tom, terminating their long-term partnership. The scullery maid still had hope that the husband and wife would come to their senses and live a happy life.

It perplexed the servants when the mistress requested to move her belongings back into the master bedroom and the master looked on, a soft smile on his lips. It confused the servants when the Mr and Mrs began taking meals together and talking in hushed tones late into the night. And it bamboozled the servants when, one summer afternoon, the Lord of the household stood from his desk, cautiously moved to his Lady that was reading by the open window, and asked her to accompany him on a walk. She had accepted. 

There was to be a dinner party, this time hosted at Mr. Draco Malfoy’s manor, that Mr. Riddle was expected to attend. Per usual, the master didn’t invite the mistress, but she was content to stay home. A maid briefly heard the madam whisper to her husband, “hurry home, please? I don’t like it when you’re away.” The maid had scurried away before she could hear the reply.

Mattheo returned home that night, just before the sun was setting. He climbed the steps, unbuttoning his cuffs and loosening his tie. The soft glow of light was still shining under your shared bedroom - something he still hadn’t gotten used to - and Mattheo couldn’t help but smile.

“Why are you still up?” he asked quietly when he entered the room.

“You promised to be home early and I wanted to see you before I go to bed,” you reminded him, a small book in your hands.

“Right, right.” Mattheo chuckled and shook his head, slinging off his tie and jacket.

“How was the dinner?”

Mattheo hummed noncommittally. “Not the worst. A couple of my good friends, Theo and Pansy, were there to help alleviate the pain of socialising. But… I found something odd happening.”

“And what was that, husband?” Mattheo took a moment to relish in the way that word curled off your tongue effortlessly.

“I found myself wishing you were there. Nay,” he quickly corrected himself. “I wished I was here with you.”

“Oh?” Your eyes flickered up towards Mattheo, a slight blush coming to your cheeks. “Why… what do you mean by that?”

Mattheo began to unbutton his shirt and moved towards his closet. “Well,” he admitted, mumbling to himself. “I simply mean that instead of having to socialise with people who are too tightly wound and whose only intent is to take my money,” he chucked his belt into his closet and rolled up his sleeves, “I would rather be at home with my darling wife.”

A smile inched up your lips. “Really? Tell me more about this darling wife of yours.”

Mattheo hummed, stepping towards the bed. He crawled down on the bed, leaning on his forearms to lean up towards you. “My wife… I’ve come to care deeply about her. She is a beautiful, elegant woman, one who has a fiery tongue about her and an intelligent brain that even I cannot rival. She always seems to get her way, even when I try to fight back. It’s as if my wife has a command over me that I have willingly submitted to. And I am not ashamed to say so.” He lightly caressed your arm, sending a trail of goosebumps up your skin. 

“You must be careful, Mattheo,” you uttered. “That sounds an awful lot like love.” 

Mattheo brought his eyes up to meet yours, the sting of tears building up behind them. His voice cracked as he said, “that’s the first time you’ve called me by my name, Y/n.”

Your lips parted in shock. “I- I didn’t realise. I’m sorry-”

“Don’t you dare apologise,” Mattheo demanded before reaching up to pull you into a kiss. 

His lips were soft and meaningful against yours, hungrily trying to gather every ounce of love from you. His kisses were feverish at first, his strong hand coming up to cup your jawline, his fingers just teasing behind your ear, before his lips slowed. Mattheo was a starved man and he wouldn’t let anyone take away his only solace. He shifted so he could be closer to you, gently taking the book from your hands as you surrendered yourself to him. Your hands found his silk shirt, gripping it in your fists. He placed the book on the nightstand and moved so he was hovering over you, never once letting a second go by without feeling your skin against his. 

Mattheo slowly, achingly pulled away from you and his eyes fluttered open to meet yours. “My darling, my love, my life,” he murmured, dragging a knuckle down your cheek. “I apologise for everything I have ever done or said that made you feel inferior. I would be happy to kneel for you in front of my associates and family members - just to show them how much power you have over me.” He took a breath before persisting, “I was foolish. I was incompetent. I didn’t realise how much love I held for you. It is, and always will be, only you. I will promise you this: you will be the only woman I ever touch, the only voice I ever want to hear, the only skin I will ever caress, and the only eyes I ever want to see. I will wake and fall, every morning and night, thinking of you. You are the other half of my heart, for it is you who I love. I will place the galaxies and stars in the night sky for you. If you are ever unhappy, my love, I will not rest until I see you smile again. If you are ever mad, my love, I shall smite whatever upsets you, even if it is I. And I would die a happy man if you could give me only an ounce of what I give you.”

Your breath shook and you swore Mattheo had injected ambrosia into your veins for you were sure your blood was singing with the love that was filling your soul. “I wrote a letter to your mother today,” you offered quietly, as if your mere words could ever compare to the love poem Mattheo had just gifted to you. “And I thanked her.” Mattheo’s eyes flashed with confusion. You continued, “I thanked her for birthing such a wonderful husband and for raising him. I know you u wish to renounce your family, but as of now, I want to thank them with all my heart. Mattheo, I love you.”

“And I you,” Mattheo whispered, bringing his forehead down to rest on yours. His nose bumped against your cheek and he couldn’t contain his grin anymore. “How did I ever get so lucky?” he mumbled.

You laughed lightly. “Luck? Fate?”

Mattheo shook his head and his nose brushed light curves over your skin. “No, my wife. Simply love. Pure, unconditional love.”

***

The house was bright, the curtains pulled as far open as they could be. Some servants scuttled around, holding laundry or preparing for dinner. Meanwhile, Mattheo strode leisurely through the halls, smiling lovingly as his nephews chased each other through the halls. “What do I say, boys?” he called after them.

“Have fun, be safe, and don’t get caught!” they yelled back before running around a corner.

Enzo jogged after them and grumbled to Mattheo, “it’s not your duty to rule them up.”

“As their favourite uncle, yes, it is.”

“Your wife is in Andromeda’s room,” Enzo told his brother before sprinting off after his sons. Enzo wasn’t usually at Riddle Manor, but today was a special day. It was Orion’s birthday.

Mattheo chuckled to himself before Orion raced up the steps, panting. “Papa! Papa!” 

Mattheo grinned widely and scooped Orion up. “Are you alright, hm? What’ve you been up to?”

“Aunt Pansy’s carriage just pulled up!” Orion bounced in Mattheo’s arms, beaming.

“And you’re not even dressed,” Mattheo stared at Orion, pretending to be stunned. “Where’s your mother, Ori?”

“She’s helping Andy get dressed,” Orion announced. Mattheo nodded and carried his son to his daughter’s room. “Mum!” Orion cried out, seeing Y/n standing behind Andromeda, knotting her hair into a braid. 

“Oh, my darling,” Y/n tied Andy’s hair up before crossing to Mattheo and taking Orion from his arms. “Are you excited for your birthday?”

Orion hummed excitedly and wiggled down from Y/n’s arms. He darted to Andromeda and wrapped himself around her in a tight hug. Andromeda grumbled, but allowed him to cling to her as she finished her hair and rouge.

Mattheo took Y/n’s hand and pulled her back toward him, nudging his nose against hers. “Look at that,” he murmured, reaching down to play with the silver and green ring on your finger. “Mine.” He pressed a kiss to your temple. Slowly, as to not arouse suspicion from your children, he backed you up and caged you against the wall in his arms. “Seven years with you and two beautiful children to show for it.”

“Hey, mum? Where’s my- eugh!” Andromeda turned around and reeled back from the scene in front of her. “For the love of Salazar, please get a room!”

“We are in a room.” Mattheo smirked, glancing up from the crook of your neck. 

“Aren’t you two, if I'm doing my calculations correctly, nearing thirty years old?” Andromeda tsked and rolled her eyes. 

“You believe that simply because we’re getting older, I’m going to stop loving your mother?”  Mattheo chuckled before pressing a light kiss to your jawline. 

You shivered and tucked your face into your husband’s chest. “Matty, spare the poor children,” you chastised lightly. “What do you need, darling?” you turned towards Andromeda.

“You used to call me that,” Mattheo whined. He stepped back from you, letting you out of his embrace.

Andromeda sighed and asked, “where is my white shawl? It’ll go well with the dress I’m planning to wear to Orion’s party.”

“Why does it matter what you wear to Orion’s party?” Mattheo asked, puzzled. 

“Because Albus Potter is going to be here,” you said as if it were obvious.

“Harry Potter’s son?” Mattheo asked incredulously. “That scumbag?”

Both you and Andromeda ignored Mattheo and Orion left the room at the sound of Aunt Pansy entering the foyer and shouting out for her favourite nephew.

“Your shawl should be in the library,” you answered. “Ori was using it as a blanket yesterday.”

Andromeda sighed and turned towards the door. “He needs to stop taking my things. Just last week he stole my candelabra so he could read in the dark. Perhaps you should accelerate his schooling. He’s getting bored, you know.”

“We’ll raise our own son, thank you, Andromeda,” Mattheo raised a brow. Andy huffed and and flicked her dress out behind her dramatically, exiting the room. Mattheo turned to you and said, “they get that from you. The love of reading.”

“Yes, but they get their flair for the dramatics from you. And lest us not forget, you keep fuelling our love of literature by buying more books and expanding our library,” you countered.

Mattheo hummed. “‘Tis true. But how could I live without spoiling my wife and children?” He whirled you around in his arms and pressed a long kiss to your lips. “Speaking of children, what would you think of expanding our family?”

You let out a laugh. “You simply like the act of making a bigger family.”

“I love my children too,” Mattheo defended.

You reached up and brushed some of his hair away from his face. “Yes you do,” you smiled up at him. “You love your family very much.”

“Always.”

[lushaletta]

I have a question??? Could you do Fred Weasley x older sister Potter reader who's he's friends with and like headcanons of their relationship please and thank you

in good hands / fred weasley

pairing: fred weasley x fem!reader

content: mild swearing, older sister potter!reader

summary: being harry potter’s older sister is difficult. you hate watching your little brother get hurt both physically and emotionally, but fred happens to be a great protector.

a/n: MY FRED WEASLEY DEBUT!! george is my fav but fred is so arghghghgh hot. anywayyyy tysm for this request and i’m sorry i didn’t follow it to a t!! i was originally gonna do headcanons as requested but i kinda got in the zone… i do kinda like this pairing though so i may end up doing hcs eventually anyway! also my bad for this taking FOREVER i’ve been madly busy… love u folks

⋆ ࣪.  ⁺⑅ ⋰˚ *.ﾟ .˳⁺⁎˚ ˚⁎⁺˳ . ༺ ˖࣪ ˖࣪ ∗

Harry comes running into your room, soaked with both rain water and agitation. His broom is immediately tossed to the side and you can’t help but be concerned— you have a feeling you know what this is going to be about, and it’s not the first time.

“Harry?”

“So sick of it! I only try to help, you know? To make things better and no one ever gives a fuck! No gratitude or even kindness, after everything I’ve done.” Your face softens as he inches towards you, even being careful not to get your bed wet with his clothing.

“They’re still mad at you for losing the game? Are you serious?” You’re completely furious. Harry’s had the world on his shoulders since forever and his entire life is a tragedy. He can’t even play a school sport without being reamed for something that’s hardly his fault.

Peeling his jersey off, he crawls into your side and waits for your affection; the only thing he can count on when the world isn’t on his side.

“I tried to fix things, you know? Told Fletcher I was sorry but they’re still pissed, calling me a freak and saying all this crap about Voldemort.” You shush him and cradle his face in your arms. Your heart is breaking because how could anyone treat your baby brother like this, how could anyone see him as something less than precious?

His eyes shimmer but not with the sparkle of joy. They’re teary. “Fuck ‘em all. They’ll come around, Harry. They do eventually.”

It’s not fair what they do to him. He’ll mess something up and half the time it’s out of his control, and suddenly he’s public enemy number one. You’re usually there to help, and so are his friends like Hermione and Ron, but it can’t always be like this.

He’s okay after a while. You amp up the jokes and ruffle his hair and he’s okay. He has dinner with his group and you with yours. It’s a nice evening and all you can do is hope he’s forgetting everything wrong with the world. It seems like he is, because he’s tossing peanuts in the air and catching them in his mouth while Ron is laughing hysterically and Hermione is resting her hand on a judgemental expression.

“Oi, Weasley!” you say, and Fred whips his head towards you. “I’ve got something to ask. A favour.”

He perks up. You were asking him for a favour. He’s been waiting for his in since forever, but he wouldn’t let you know that. “Yeah?” he replies, taking a sip of pumpkin juice.

A quick breath escapes your lips as you lean on him, lashes fluttering and a little grin settled on your face. He can look at you trying to be all persuasive without blushing. He’s stronger than this.

“How about.. you and George look after Harry? I’ve been worried about him, with the whole dementor thing. And after what happened last game, I can’t just sit from the stands and watch him get injured again knowing I didn’t do anything about it. Everyone’s pissed at him.”

Fred softens. His mind races, trying to come up with the cons of the request. He comes up empty. This was an excuse to talk to you more and, well, he already quite liked Harry, so that was no issue. And with your convincing doe eyes, how could he refuse?

He’s taking too long to respond and he knows it, but he can’t stop staring at your pretty face. You clear your throat, prodding for an answer. “Huh? Oh, yeah. The lad’s gonna be in good hands, m’lady,” he winks.

The roll of your eyes makes him smile. “Better make sure of it, Weasley.”

And to shut you up, he shoves a grape between your lips and you smack him across the arm.

From then on, Fred and George made sure no one got in Harry’s way. Someone messed with him, they messed with them. The twins were 190 and a half centimetres of beater strength and poking the bear was on no one’s to-do list, so Harry was pretty much set. Well, not entirely.

All Harry really wants to do is sit down and catch up on the pile of homework he’s missed for Chosen One duties, but some people take that as being haughty.

“Potter. You and your godforesaken hero complex. You think you’re untouchable? What’ll happen if I sock you in the face, huh? You think magic will—“

“Fuck around and find out.”

Finnick Lewis turns around. He immediately backtracks. “Hey, listen, man, I don’t want any trouble.” Fred didn’t miss the nasty glare that Lewis sent Harry on his way out. He’d take care of that one later.

The boy doesn’t really know what’s just happened or why, but he’ll take whatever he can get and he’ll be grateful for it. He mumbles out a thank you before scrambling to his room.

You’d seen Fred’s effort in protecting your brother. He’d done a damn good job at it too, because Harry hadn’t complained much about students in weeks. You’re glad you at least took that load off his shoulders.

“Tell you what, Weasley,” you say nonchalantly, unwrapping a chocolate.

He hums. It’s a lazy Sunday afternoon and he’s trying to finish up an essay. Lupin likes him just fine, but he’s definitely a tough grader.

“If you can make sure Harry’s perfectly uninjured after the next game, I’ll give you a kiss.”

Who cares about Lupin? Fred looks up at you instantly, suddenly feeling the velvet of the chair on his skin. “I’ll totally bite. How many seconds?”

You snort. “The kiss?” He nods. “3 seconds. 5 if I’m feeling generous.”

The essay is forgotten just like that.

The man moved the moon and sun to ensure Harry’s safety on his watch. Lewis and Fletcher had their tails between their legs after a few careful threats and actions to back them up, and Harry felt good. Safe. That’s all that mattered.

Monday arrives and the Quidditch stands are a sea of red and green with Gryffindor particularly antsy as Harry zooms around the pitch, Golden Snitch right within his view but not quite arms reach.

“Potter’s got his eye on the prize! I’ve got mine on too, Johnson looks impeccable in robes, I’ll tell you that much— Sorry, Professor.”

Fred’s holding his own, watching out for any foul play from the Slytherin Seeker whilst batting Bludgers. George is at his side, throwing them out and scoring right into Flint’s stomach.

“Wonderful play from Weasley! Not quite sure which one, but great nonetheless,” Lee says through the megaphone.

Fred’s just about to hit a Bludger into the opposing Keeper’s side, but he spots Harry in the corner of his eye being tailed by Higgs and there’s a nasty Slytherin Bludger coming right for him and he’s flying there immediately.

Harry’s so pumped with adrenaline and focus on the Snitch, he doesn’t even notice the ball coming straight to his nose. Godric knows that would leave a mark. Fred comes up and bats it away, nearly falling off his broom.

You’re watching from the stands in admiration and excitement and Fred can’t help but find you in the crowd. He sends you a wink from the pitch and a girl beside you seems to think it’s for her. You let it happen. You know who it belonged to.

Gryffindor emerges victorious, winning by two points and Harry’s crowd surfing, a big smile on his face as students chant his name. He doesn’t know how long the fame will last, but he doesn’t really care.

“You did good, Weasley,” you admit as Fred comes up beside you.

“Think I deserve my kiss now?”

In typical you fashion, you roll your eyes and pull him towards your face.

He thinks the kiss will be haste, but you melt into his lips and he does the very same. His arms snake around your waist and bring you impossibly closer and you relish in it. It’s embarrassing how much you’re grinning, but you can feel his smile too.

Catching your breath, “That was like 30 seconds. Now you gotta help Harry with his homework.”

[queers-gambit]

I Solemnly Swear That I Am Up To No Good

prompt: ( requested ) basking in the sunshine, breathing fresh air, bare skin tickled by tall grass, and Felix, who can't focus on the Half Blood Prince when his girl's got his full blooded attention.

pairing: Felix Catton x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Saltburn

word count: 2.3k+

note: i wrote this in an hour 'cause, you know, brainrot.

warnings: slight request variation (you'll see), there's probably cursing. anyways, suggestive language, no real spoilers, slight Ollie slander, college kids doing drugs, and no HP spoilers for those who haven't read.

All you could smell was his expensive cologne, barely breaking a sweat under the summer sun as he remained wrapped around you like a child did their mother on the first day of school. You were never one for suffocating affection nor clingy behavior, something leftover from childhood, but with your boyfriend, you craved it; and he knew it. He took advantage of it.

"Are you even listening or are you too busy trying to identify the smell of my shampoo?"

"Hmm? Yeah, yeah, 'M listenin', love, uh, you know, something about... Harry doing something stupid, yeah?"

You snorted lightly, head tilting back to look up at your boyfriend's amused expression. "A lucky guess - 'cause Harry's always doing some dumb shit."

"Yeah, you know, there's a reason he wasn't considered for Ravenclaw."

"Don't be mean, we all have our strengths and weaknesses," you gently reprimanded. "So he's not the smartest guy ever, but he's brave as hell, isn't he?"

"Has to be, being a Gryffindor and all."

"I doubt we would've done half this shit at 16."

"Totally right, we had other worries - like our first pregnancy scare."

"Felix!"

"What, doll face? Huh? C'mon, what's the quote? I solemnly swear that I am up to no good!"

"Oh, you absolute cheesy fuck!"

His laugh could've echoed across the field, the two of you laid out on an oversized blanket; crushing the long grass surrounding his home, Saltburn. 'Home' always felt so mundane when describing the freaking castle his family inhabited; after all, his father, Sir James, was literally knighted - making the Cattons feel larger than life. You'd known the family for over a decade now, meeting Venetia on your first day of school when a rude boy smacked your lunch tray right out of your hands, being inducted to their family almost straight away.

As it turned out, your mother and father were friendly with Sir James and his wife, Elspeth Catton, and after only a month in your new town, you were invited to Saltburn for a family meal.

It became a monthly occurrence.

And when you started dating Felix when you were both 15, it was like life was simply alining with the stars. Destiny being fulfilled. Fate smiling on you both.

Your parents tried to play off the relationship, but after you turned 16, they realized how serious you two seemed about each other. And when you both decided to attend Oxford together (rejecting your father's alma mater, the University of Edinburgh), your mother made constant jibes about your wedding. At first, it was just a few, little, sometimes funny, but mostly harmless comments here and there, and then it escalated to full-on conversations between your mothers.

Like they had flowers and color scheme picked out, deciding on hosting at Saltburn, even debating wedding dress ideas! Your mother wanted something lacy, Elspeth wanted something form fitting and "sexy" - being where their opinions clashed and the conversation elevated to near arguments.

Anyways, laying on the blanket in the field, alone, became a regular occurrence for you and Felix once you realized the absolute HOLD the Harry Potter series had on you both. Where the brother and sister had matching HP star tattoos on their hands, that had convinced you to get a set of three stars - your only tattoo, nestled behind your left ear. Venetia technically got you into the series, letting you borrow the first book, and then gifting you each book once published; but it was more like a "tradition" to read them with Felix.

See, when you were younger, you had a stutter that made you wildly insecure, but reading out loud helped you work through it. Was it a perfect system? Of course not, but your boyfriend was adamant that it'd help - and eventually, it did. So much so, you received top marks in each of your public speaking or debate classes, something the Catton's still praised you over.

Felix liked listening, and the times you got a little tongue-tied and frustrated, he would take over to let you a small reprieve. Today was no different, laid in the field, the grass tickling your bare feet and calves as the sun soaked into your bare skin. Either of you only wore a pair of sunglasses, Felix sat up on his elbow to support your body laid against his; his fingers dancing light patterns over whatever body part he could reach. Currently, it was your hip.

He laid quick kisses where he could, whispered sweet nothings in your ear, used his teeth to nibble your flesh. Anything to make you trip over your words, like the little shit he was.

You felt your breathing shift when Felix's lips and tongue ghosted up your neck, sweeping stray strands of hair from your shoulder before his fingertips were ghosting over your collarbone and down your chest to tweak your nipple. The cold of his bracelets and watch on your sticky skin felt like a drastic contrast to the warmth of the day.

"You're infuriating, I'm trying to read," you scolded, swatting his hand away; but smirking in amusement that assured him you weren't truly annoyed.

"Roll over, sweetheart, I needa rest my arm," he muttered in your ear, licking the shell - making you squirm with a small giggle.

"Can you behave? For once?"

"How can I? When you look like this? I mean, Goddamn, I really got the prettiest girl, don't I?" He smirked, watching you lift off his chest to roll onto your stomach; perched on your elbows. "Now, that's a sight, might be my favorite," he grinned, bringing his hand down to smack one of your arse cheeks - palming the flesh tightly, giving a jiggle for his amusement.

"Felix!" You squealed, fully anticipating this treatment; trying to hide your full-teeth grin.

"C'mon, love, let's get a bit naughty," he teased. "Oliver doesn't get here for another two days, we're not gonna be alone much longer."

You scoffed lightly, "You're the one who had to befriend The Clinger."

"Oi, c'mon now, tellin' me t'be nice about Harry? Don't call him that, love, he's just a lonely chap. Needs a friend."

You hummed, readjusting the book under you. "He's a bit creepy, Fi," you admit. "I mean, he stares - like a lot. And remember I told you, I saw him looking through your dorm window that one night?"

He sighed, "He was just drunk, love, we've been over this."

"You're so quick to excuse him," you noted, offering him a bewildered look as he readjusted to lean over your back. His head nuzzled between your shoulder blades, letting a hand pet down the slope of your spine; forcing a small tremor through your muscles.

"He's got no one else."

"Doesn't mean he needs you, my sweet boy. Honestly, you stretch yourself too thin. Maybe if you focused less on these so-called friends and more on your studies...?"

"I appreciate the worry, babygirl," he mused, laying three kisses to your shoulders, "but it's all right, got you quizzing me nightly. Swear, you know my coursework better than I do. And besides, you're the one who says there's no such thing as too many friends."

"Hm," you let your eyes roll slightly, "I was obviously high when I said that and probably didn't mean bloody Oliver."

"Speaking of," he grinned, reaching for the rucksack he brought with you; now hosting your clothes, but also carrying the Altoid tin he used to store pre-rolled joints.

"Are you even listening to the story anymore, baby?"

"Of course I am, toots, I can multi-task." You hummed in response, waiting for him to finish lighting up before continuing onto a new paragraph; feeling him shift on your back. But you faltered when smoke blew against your cheek, Felix's lips descending a moment later to noisily smooch your skin. "You're so fucking pretty," he mumbled.

"I think you have ADHD."

"We knew that."

"Maybe you need something for that."

"Because I'm not listening to Harry Potter?"

"I knew it!" You laughed, shivering again when his free hand drew up your spine to nestle in your hair; handing you the joint with the other. "Fi, you're still distracting me," you moaned slightly, leaning your head back into his touch - contradicting your own words.

"You're doin' great, love," he grinned, licking the skin behind your ear, at your tattoo. "Keep goin', c'mon, I wanna hear what happens next."

"You're gonna reread this chapter when I go to bed, aren't you?"

Felix paused, "Maybe."

You grunted, dropping your head to the book before lifting it again and taking an inhale from the joint. Felix grinned at you in mischief, rolling over onto his back; hand behind his head as he stared up at you. You shook your head at him, handing the joint over before shuffling so you were laid on his chest with the book spread open in one hand.

"Love?" He mumbled.

"Hmm?" You glanced at him.

"Maybe... Uh, yeah, maybe start the chapter over? I'm a bit lost," he snickered, coughing when you tisked at him and offered a slightly annoyed look. "C'mon, baby, you can't tell me you were totally focused, either! You love me touching you, I can see it on your face."

To prove his point, the arm he had wrapped around you drifted to, once more, take a handful of your ample bottom - causing you to gasp slightly.

But you pouted, "I kinda want to finish this chapter, baby."

"And I'm distracting you?"

"Obviously."

Felix laughed, "Spot on Professor Snape, baby."

"If I read like Snape the rest of the chapter, will you pay attention to me?"

"You know what? I don't know, that voice is kinda a turn on... Everything you do is a turn on, doll."

"You'd think the consistent fucking we do would rein in your hormones."

"Nah," he tutted, squeezing his hand, "not when I got a girl like you, gettin' me all riled up. I mean, Half-Blood Prince, who? Got me full blooded, right here." You chuckled when he glanced at his cock, folding the book closed and deflating onto his chest and accepting the joint again. "Oh, c'mon, don't stop, 's just gettin' good!"

"You were calling Harry stupid literally 5 minutes ago."

"Come off it, when isn't he?"

"When he's fighting Voldemort?"

"Hm," he considered, tucking his hand into your hair to massage your scalp; gently pulling through your hair. "You might have a point."

"And now Dumbledore's - "

"Hey, hey, no spoilers!"

"It's not a spoiler if you were listening to me!"

"I'm always listening," he whined, you blowing smoke across his abdomen; watching his abs contract from the slight tickle; his cock bobbing from the movement and making you flush with heat not from the sun. "You're just so much more interesting, hmm?" He mumbled.

"Hey, hey. Flattery gets you everywhere with me," you teased, loving the easiness of his smile. "C'mon, pretty boy, your turn."

He took the joint from you, watching you try to pull back - but tightening his arm. "Stay here, love havin' you close," he mumbled, placing the joint to his mouth and reaching for the book again. Not wanting his arm to retract from your form, you reached up to take the joint from him; listening as he went back to the beginning of the chapter while your leg hiked up his hips.

Every other puff, you fed Felix the joint until there was nothing left; wee small roach being stubbed out in the dirt, leaving you two relaxed, high, and laid over one another as he continued to lazily read. But his hand still traced invisible patterns over your skin, the warmth of the sun making you sweat, but the way your boyfriend touched you made you shiver.

He knew you loved it, yet didn't so much as stutter on a single word when his smirk would grow feeling your reactions to his touches.

At the end of the chapter, he glanced down at you and let his lips follow; tightening his arm to bring you in closer, leaving repeated kisses on your forehead. You squirmed closer, giggling and bringing your hand up to hook around the back of his neck, directing him to your lips as he rolled over so you were on your back and he was hovering over you. "You're distracting me, now, li'l minx," he teased.

"Oh, how unfair, what ever shall you do?"

He chuckled, pecking your lips twice more, then asking, "Another chapter or...?"

"Yes, one more chapter," you laughed, "but then we're gonna have to head back up, your mum wanted my help with something."

"Oh, she's got you some new dresses she wants you to try," he relaid.

"I thought she stopped doin' that?"

"She loves spoiling you," Felix eased. "And Venetia stopped letting Mum dress her, so, you know... Here, you read this one."

You agreed, letting him readjust so he was sat up again, keeping you between his spread legs so he could peer down at the book from over your shoulder. Was it distracting, feeling his fully blooded cock at your back? Absolutely. Was it mildly erotic for you to ignore it and continue reading - as if his warmth wasn't making you wet? Also, yes.

"Fi," you whispered when his lips danced across your shoulder. "Distracting me, again," you half-scolded.

"You're doin' great, love," he chuckled.

But he didn't stop, it was like he was turning himself on (more) by his soft, gentle touches; and being spurred onward when he noted the way your chest heaved when your breath changed.

"Keep goin'," he whispered in your ear, dragging his hands up to cup either bare breast and swipe his thumbs around your nipples to stiffen them into peaks.

"Felix - "

"Don't stop," he encouraged, "'s real endearing the way you're tryna fight this."

"You try to get between me and Potter one more time, we're going on a sex strike."

There was a pause as you looked up at him, both sharing growing grins before bursting into echoing laughter that Venetia heard from one of the loungers close to the house. She grinned to herself, turning the page of her own Half-Blood Prince book.

requesting rules and masterlist

Saltburn masterlist

[sheeple]

Heirs of Hogwarts | Part 4

Genre(s): Nuisance to Lovers / Fake dating / Fluff / No Voldy au Fandom(s): Harry Potter Pairing(s): Mattheo Riddle x Hufflepuff!Reader Summary: After finding out your (now ex)boyfriend cheated on you with the girl he told you not to worry about, you decide to get into a fake relationship with the kid of another founder of Hogwarts. What could go wrong? Warning(s): It's the (badly written) smut chapter (is it obvious that I don't know how kissing works?) / Weee Woo mature smut hour is here!!! / semi-exhibitionistic (office fucking while the door is locked?) / The oral fixation is back / dunno if I missed smth. A/n: The long-awaited final part of the series. And I swear to GOD if the tags don't work I'm going to screeaaAAAMMM [Masterlist] [HoH masterlist]

When Mattheo opens his eyes, a ray of sunshine peaks through the curtains and it falls over your sleeping face. In your sleep, you have tucked yourself closer to his body.

Mattheo can't help himself but smile. He rests his head on his fist while he reaches out and brushes a strand of hair away from your face. Oh, how peaceful you look — how at ease with him beside you.

At his touch, you scrunch your face and turn away, nuzzling into his chest. You grumble something and he laughs.

"Good morning, Sunshine."

Groaning, you reach for the covers and pull them up to hide yourself from the light. "What time is it?"

Looking over his shoulder towards the small clock on the bedside table. "Half past eight."

Another groan comes from you and you push the covers just down so your face is peaking out with a pout. "Way too damn early..."

At that moment your door gets kicked open and the twins storm in. "Get up! Mom made breakfast and she has given you ten minutes to get dressed.

As Danny drags you out of your bed and into your bathroom, Victor gives Mattheo a stern glare. "You listen to me, Riddle. If you hurt but one hair on our sister's head you're a dead man! Understood?!"

Mattheo nods dazed, not jet have been really woken up before the invasion.

With one last curt nod, Victor turns around and marches out of your room. Not before saying, "If I were you I would get dressed. Mom doesn't like tardiness."

The way one-half of your brothers send you sly looks while the other half glares daggers at Mattheo as the two of you join your family at the breakfast table makes you want to be swallowed up whole by the ground.

"Slept well?", muses Felix as he peels a tangerine and gives his wife the segments.

Pursing your lips, you wait until both your parents aren't looking before flipping him off. He returns the gesture, only to get whacked by his wife — who in turn winks at you.

As Mattheo tilts his head towards you and as he parts his lips to say something, Victor calls out, "Hey! No canoodling at the breakfast table! Felix and Jean were bad enough, we don't need to experience you two being disgusting too."

"Hey!", both you and Felix call out, offended. Felix because he and his wife were called disgusting, and you because of the accusation of canoodling while you were literally doing nothing.

As you and your siblings bicker — because let's be fair, Felix needs to pull Herbert and Danny into the argument — Mattheo looks around the table with a fond smile.

It's nice to see how your family is. Even while you bicker and pester each other, he can see you hold so much love for each and every one of your brothers. And they do for you. And now he can see certain traits that you do that come from your parents or that all the Hufflepuff siblings do.

It's nice. It makes him jealous deep down.

When you notice Mattheo's faraway look on his face, you reach under the table to hold his hand. You give him a squeeze and in return, you get a smile. A genuine one luckily.

The two stay like that until it's finally time to go. After all, you have so much homework to do.

Your mom hugs you with tears in her eyes, having always found it difficult to let her babies go. She also gave Mattheo a tight hug and made him promise to come back another time. Maybe for the summer holiday, he can join you and your family at your vacation home — the idea was protested with grumbles from most of your brothers.

Your father pinches your cheeks before clapping Mattheo on his back and shaking his hand. "It was nice meeting you, Mattheo. Take good care if my daughter, will you?"

"I wouldn't dare otherwise", he smiles while reaching for your hand.

Waving goodbye, the two of you walk back to the portkey. And with a final deep breath, you touch the small cup and get sucked in a portal.

With a slight stumble, the floor changes from grass to the creaking floorboards of Sprout's office. You manage to catch yourself by the desk.

Having let go of your hand, Mattheo takes out his wand while he walks towards the door. He peaks his head out and looks around the corridor. Once he closes the door, he casts a locking and silencing charm upon it.

"What are you doing?", you ask laughing as he slowly turns around.

Mattheo says nothing but strides towards you. Taking your face in his hands, your breath hitches as his thumb rubs circles over your cheeks. Your eyes flicker over his face as you recognise the look in his eyes. It's the same as last night.

"Matt", you whisper, pressing your forehead against his.

He silences a groan by biting his bottom lip, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. "Tell me now if you don't want this. Tell me and I will stop. But once... I can't stop- won't stop. You fill my every thought, awake or at night."

You trail one hand up his body and place it on his shoulder, moulding your body against his as he presses you against the desk, his own hands simultaneously travelling down your body. He grabs the backs of your thighs and hoists you up the desk.

A surprised yelp escapes your lips and Mattheo seizes the opportunity to crash his lips against yours. His eyes close shut as he laces his fingers into your hair, holding your head in place to deepen the kiss.

You moan as you grind against him. Mattheo's all-consuming, all over. You feel and smell nothing else than him. One of his hands is in your hair while the other travels down your side towards your knee. How he grabs the flesh of your thigh to pull you even closer ─ if that is even possible.

Wrapping your arms around him, you throw your head back as his lips travel from the corner of your mouth towards your neck. He peppers open-mouthed kisses, running his tongue over your skin and sucking softly. You bite your bottom lips so as not to sound too desperate.

While his lips assault your neck, Mattheo's hand has travelled from your knee up your thigh to underneath your skirl and his middle finger toys with the elastic of your underwear.

Your body moves like it has a mind of its own and your legs open further to give him room to slip his hand beneath the fabric.

As he explores and rubs slow circles on your clit, he groans loudly. "Gods", he breathes out, his forehead resting against your shoulder and his eyes trained on the movements of his fingers hidden under the fabric of your panties.

"Matt... please", you beg, squirming at the teasing touch.

As if your plea snaps him out of a daze, he rips his hand away from your core ─ earning a desperate whine from you ─ and he pushes your underwear down your legs, stuffing it in his back pocket.

He pulls your hips to the edge of the table while he drops to his knees. Looking up at you through his lashes, asking your permission to continue.

"Mattheo I swear if you don't soon- OH!" You moan loudly as he licks a stripe up your pussy. Your hands shoot to his curls and you pull on them as he continues his ministrations, pulling moan after moan from you.

His lips wrap around your clit and you swear that you see stars. A finger prods at your entrance, slipping in easily with how wet you are. Soon, a second finger gets added and you can't help yourself. "I could eat you for lunch", he groans.

"Please Mattheo... please!"

With one last kiss, he pulls away and looks up at you, his mouth and chin glistening. "What is it, baby?" He leans his head against your thigh while his thumb rubs lazy circles around your clit.

You groan and whine, writhing under his heavy gaze and stimulation. "I... please- do something. I feel so..."

He pouts, speeding up his fingers. "Do something? Okay." He rips his fingers away and you feel like you could die.

"Not that!", you hiss, glaring at him.

Mattheo chuckles and rises from his kneeled position. "You're oh so cute when frustrated, love." He grabs your cheeks with one hand and pushes his soaked fingers into your mouth.

The taste of your own arousal dances on your tongue and you moan, closing your eyes and sucking on his digits. Mattheo can't help but watch you with fascination as you hold his gaze.

You grab his wrist and pull his fingers away with one last kiss. "Fuck me, Mattheo Riddle. Fuck me so good that I forget that our relationship used to be fake." You use his own words, which earns you a growl.

Mattheo grabs your hips and turns you around so that your ass is up in the air and your chest laying on the desk. He pushes the hem of your skirt up so you're fully exposed. A groan escapes him while Mattheo grabs two hands full of your asscheeks and pulls them to the side.

One hand leaves your skin and you hear the metallic sound of a belt buckle before a zipper. You look over your shoulder and see that he has pushed his pants just down enough to free himself. He strokes his length a couple of times before lining up with your entrance.

With one fluid trust, he's fully inside you. You grip the edge of the desk and a loud moan rolls from your lips. You're so full. So filled to the brim.

Mattheo swears he's in heaven. Your pussy is pure ecstasy. "So... tight", he says with a clenched jaw, trying his best not to immediately spill inside of you.

Rolling your hips against his, you look over your shoulder with your bottom lip between your teeth. Mattheo has his eyes closed and his head thrown back. The grip on your hip is bordering on bruising but it feels so good.

You can't help the moans coming out of your mouth when he bottoms out before pulling out of you completely and plunging back in. It shocks your entire body and Sprout's desk he has you folded over.

A hand travels down and you roll lazy circles over your clit for extra stimulation, his own hand engulfs yours and moves in sync with you.

It makes your body buzz and you feel the end coming closer and closer. Squirming underneath him, stars flood your vision and soon you feel yourself teetering over the edge.

Mattheo, feeling your pussy convulse around him, pulls you up and presses you against his chest. He captures your lips in a fiery kiss and helps you ride out your orgasm.

"Shit", he curses under his breath, the squelching sound of your cum sending shivers down his spine. "I don't know how much longer I can hold it."

"Cum in me", you moan, arching your back.

You don't have to say that a second time because Mattheo swears he's in heaven and cums almost immediately with a loud grunt, his head thrown back. You moan with him and he holds the both of you still.

The two of you stay like that until he has gone soft and you are starting to cramp. As he pulls out, you feel a dollop of his cum run down your leg. Mattheo drops to his knees and licks it up.

"No", you squirm, feeling so overstimulated that even the thought of his tongue touching you makes your pussy twitch.

He helps you up on the desk and cleans you up with a towel he conjured. "How are you feeling?"

"Good", you smile, "Tired. Spend."

Mattheo returns your smile as he pulls you closer for a kiss. Once he has enough, he presses his forehead against yours. "Come to my game tomorrow."

You smile, wrapping your arms around his neck. "And do what? Watch my house beat yours?", you tease.

"You could sit there all prettily in my jersey while watching me beat up your ex."

A laugh escapes you. "That way to original deal wasn't it? You distract my parents while I distract Malcolm. All so Slytherin can win the house cup."

Mattheo smirks. "You know it, baby." He takes your face and traces your lips with his thumb.

"And after that?" You lean into his touch.

"After that, I am going to fuck you silly in the locker room showers and make you moan my name so loud everybody knows you're mine."

And he did just that. With his knuckles still bloody from punching Malcolm in the face — nearly earning a suspension when he almost didn't stop — he holds your hands in a tight grip as he ploughs roughly into your cunt as the water from the shower makes his sweater cling to your skin.

And you bet the school did know your two definitely were an item after that.

Tag list (bold means I couldn't tag you): @mylosz0 @kermits-bitch @jolly4holly @daisiesformylove @frogtape @dancing-inasnowglobe @slytheos @undercover-smutlover @reverse-soe @nikkissecretlibrary @moon-struck-meraki @bengbengbengi @justhavingsomefun1 @itsamusical4lifee @genshingeeksworld @y0urm0m12 @alnitakstarsky03 @mel-vaz @slytherinboysappreciation @sailtomarina @bubybubsters @jasmine2105 @abaker74 @lovelyygirl8 @vickykazuya @eltrss @llpovi @m1kasawps @sol3chu @ledtassoo @itsarajr @glittervame @glittervame @mjlock @universallyblizzardlove @hoeforvinniehackerrr @iamkaku @elltheawkward @hey-there9-its-me @mattheosangel13

[justagirlwholikesadam]

Queen Bee

Remus Lupin x Fem! Malfoy! Reader x Sirius Black

Summary: Remus and Sirius have a third in their relationship which is kept in secret due to their older brother, Lucius Malfoy and because they are a Slytherin.

A/N: I know that the fandom of Harry Potter have a fancast on these two as younger version but i just love the actors who played the older version, so I'm thinking abt them while writing this. By the way, I haven’t read the books so if something doesn’t make sense or things are out of order. Just ignore it or stop reading. :) Enjoy - L || Border Credit: @cafekitsune

Warning: SFW, NSFW, threesome, reader got white hair, we are Targaryens for a min lol, cum kisses, creampie, talks about life after school, we taking them both, queen bee, everyone is in love, bullying, fighting back. bad childhood, abusive parents

Word Count: 6.5K

Euphoric, that's what he's been feeling since he met you well since they met you. He knows that his feelings for you are a mutual thing with Sirius. 

Sirius and Remus were both infatuated and hopelessly in love with you. They laid together at night and they whispered to each other about you as they shared kisses, they spoke about how they were fortunate enough to have a third like you. Someone kind, someone who loves them for them. They talked about the way you smile, the way you speak when excited about something. They talked about your voice and your moans. The taste of your skin, your lips and your cunt. They were whipped for you just as they are with each other. 

This relationship was kept in secret just like Remus and Sirius’ relationship was under wraps. Everyone saw them as very close best friends, almost like brothers. They knew people would be uneasy with two men in a relationship but a throuple with a girl will scare people off. People will think it's unethical especially since they are both from House Gryffindor and you’re from House Slytherin as well you are Lucius Malfoy’s younger sister. The saying goes that anyone from House Slytherin is evil and conniving but you weren’t. You had made a difference in their life. It’s been a year and a half since they met you officially. What a year and half it has been, filled with laughter, with love, and lots of experimenting. They were finally in their last year in Hogwarts and they couldn’t be more happy. They spoke about their plans after school. Remus’ family cottage is perfect for three people. 

Currently Remus is in bed with you, he’s laying on his back with your head on his chest. He rubs your back with one hand while the other hand is being trapped with your own. It was something you did since the first time you laid with him. You touched his hands, his slender and long fingers, you played with them, kissed them and even sucked on them. You would trace the light scars on his knuckles sometimes. 

“I dream about your hands, Rem.” He hears you and can’t help but smile before kissing the top of your head. 

“Sometimes I think you’re with me just for my hands.” He says and his smile grows wider when you do a dramatic gasp like one of those cheesy muggle soap operas. 

You climb on top of him, sitting on his lap. His hands are pushing the uniform skirt up to your hips, his hands rub up and down on your bare thighs. You begin to loosen the red tie around his neck as you move your hips. Remus lets out a whine when you push against his crotch. 

“That’s not the only thing.” You tell him as you lean down close to his face. 

“I dream about your eyes, they are so pretty. I dream about your nose.” You said kissing the side of his nose. 

“This pretty fucking face.” You whispered, making him blush as you kissed the scars on his face. 

“Y-” “Hush I’m not done.” You cut him off, Remus has always been insecure about his face. It took him lots of convincing to accept that you found him attractive even with his scars especially when you found out about his condition. Remus didn't believe someone like you could find him hot. Some days he still had doubts about Sirius finding him attractive. There was always a solution when Remus grew insecure, it would end up, him tied up on the bed with Sirius laying one side while you laid on the other. Both of you would kiss every inch of his body until Remus grows red in the face and accept the fact that both of you find him attractive.

Remus noticed you first because of your hair, people know that white platinum hair from anywhere. It was the signature look of the Malfoy family. Your hair was long and looked so silky, he wanted to touch it at first glance. He even had caught Sirius looking at it and when you passed them, they both stared at you. Lucius had become like a bodyguard when you first came to Hogwarts, walking with you and dropping you off to your classes. Since he was always with you everywhere it was hard for anyone aka guys to talk to you because of your brother. You were oblivious to the guys in the school, you didn't pay attention to them as you sat next to Lucius during meals or in the library. It didn’t help as the years passed and you became top of your classes as well. You were very popular. You were always surrounded by your group of Slytherin friends.  

Students in Hogwarts have started calling you Queen Bee because of the status of your family and because of how well you did in school but with a nickname like that, people thought the worst of you. Sirius and Remus were nervous to speak with you because of it. That was until they saw you defending a first year Gryffindor from a Slytherin, an older boy from your house. You weren't afraid to speak your mind especially to bullies and when it came down to defend the younger students. Let’s just say, you weren't afraid to fight a bitch. 

When Lucius entered his last year, he stepped down from being your bodyguard when he noticed you settled down well. You knew where your classes were and had made friends and when he graduated Sirius and Remus knew it was their time to strike when they saw you for the first time alone in the library. Sirius had kissed Remus on the lips behind the bookshelves and mumbled good luck to him. Nervously, Remus ran his fingers through his hair, trying to look presentable for you and walked towards you. They have spoken about how to approach you, they noticed that you had a love for books, so Sirius told Remus to step in. Sirius waits for Remus to give him a signal for him to join. Sirius can’t help but feel giddy inside when he sees you smiling at Remus. 

“This face is the face I’m happy to sit on.” Remus laughs as you kiss his cheeks then a peck on his lips. 

“And these lips.” You pulled his bottom lip with your thumb. 

Remus stares up at you with hooded eyes and his heart is bursting with all the love you are giving him. “If there was a spell that allowed me to kiss these lips all the time. I would do anything. Give anything up.” 

“Fuck.” Remus breathes out before cupping your face with his hands pulling you in for a kiss. Remus’ kisses are desperate and passionate. He had a way that left you breathless after every kiss. He told you he did it because what if it's the last time he ever got to kiss you. Remus was such a hopeless romantic. 

“Should we wait for our Sirius?” You whispered to him. You gasped when Remus tugged you down on his lap, feeling his hard cock. 

“A good boyfriend and girlfriend would say yes but I can't help it. You make me go crazy.” 

“You make me go crazy too.” You tell him as you stare down at the Gryffindor boy. 

“Both of you do. Sometimes I feel like magic was done to me. A spell was cast on me because every time I see Sirius and you. I’m this-.” You grabbed a hand from your thigh and bought it towards your cunt. Remus feels a growl growing in his chest when his fingers touch your crotch, the fabric of your panties is moist and he can feel your heat. 

“Wet.” You said as you feel Remus rub your clit through the fabric. Remus moans your name as he stares up at you, his hand between your legs touching that cunt he loves so much. 

“Should we..” You mumble as you look over at the door of the bedroom. Sirius still hasn't arrived yet and your cunt is throbbing and drooling for attention. Both of you have told him what time to arrive. 

“Our Sirius won’t mind.” Remus said, pulling his hand out and sticking his long digit in his mouth, moaning as he sucked the tip of his index finger clean. Releasing his finger with a pop, you give him a smile as you lean down close to his face to kiss him. He holds your body close to him as he opens his mouth. You can’t help but moan his name when you pull away. 

“Please fuck me. Please.” Remus can't help but whine at your moans. 

How can he say no to you? Such a pretty thing with her cunt dripping wet for him. Having sex with Remus was different from Sirius. While Sirius was spontaneous, rough and hard. Remus was slow and passionate. You loved it both. 

He gets impatient and turns you around. He’s between your legs now, your legs are spread and he’s pulling his tie along with his shirt, throwing them out over his shoulder with his sweater. You try your best to be quick but Remus’ hands are already working on the buttons of your sweater. You can’t help but laugh at how focused he is getting you naked. Few seconds later, your sweater is off, your green tie is gone, and your white button down shirt is off. Helping him remove your bra, he leans down to kiss your chest. He kisses you once more as his hands unbutton your skirt. He whines when he sees the black underwear. 

“Remus.” You said his name softly. He looks at your face for a moment before leaning down. He presses gentle kisses on the side of your face. 

Remus takes his time, his sweet time with you. You're mewling at him, clawing on his back when he finally has his fill kissing your neck. He licks your nipples, flicking the hard nub before biting it gently, making you moan. His hands make their way to your hips, peeling your underwear off, you help, pulling your knees to your chest. He throws them to the floor not caring where it landed. Wrapping your legs around his waist, Remus leans down to kiss you. Remus knows spending time with you was limited. Both being from different houses, there wasn’t much free time and especially since its the last year. Sirius and Remus didn’t get to see you often. They were touched whenever you made time to see them. Bailing on your plans with your friends just so you can spend time with them. Spending break at school just so the three of you can spend time together was cherished. They were even more touched when you came to them the night before every full moon to give Remus Wolfsbane and told them it took you all day to brew it. 

“Remus.” You whispered as you felt his cock pushed against your cunt. He looks down at you, waiting for you to speak. 

“I love you.” You confessed to him, moving his sandy brown hair out of his face. You cup his cheek, feeling his scars under your touch. 

“Really?” He whispered looking at you, waiting for you to take it back. You nod at him as his eyes grow wide and he gives you a smile. 

“I love you.” He says it back. Remus leans down to kiss you, pouring everything he had into you, his tongue slips into your mouth and you welcome him. 

“I need you now.” You begged against his lips as your hand touched him. He groans when you start to jerk him off, his long fingers start to tease your clit making you jerk him even faster. 

“At least let me eat you first.” You shake your head. “I need you now!” You said pouting your lips at him as you released him. Remus huffs and leans down, your legs wrap around his waist, you whine as he presses his cock against you. He stares at you when you take a sharp breath in when he slides into you. 

Remus moans your name when you clench around his girth tightly. Your hands made their way to his face, you kissed him as he nuzzled close to you. Pulling his cock back softly he hears you whine and tell him inside. 

“You're just so greedy today.” He says in a playfully tone before moaning your name. He hears you giggle and thrust back in harshly making you moan. 

“I can't help it, Moony.” You whisper looking up at him. “Can't help myself with you.” 

There's a twinkle in his eyes for a second as he stares down at you.

Sirius is quiet when he makes it up the stairs. He was finally able to leave James and Lily after she had calmed down. Sirius had run up the stairs, skipping a few steps on the way up. He missed his girl and his man. He has been thinking about it all day, he had even been yelled at by a professor for looking at Remus as he thought about today. Remus just raised a brow at him, in a way asking him if he's alright. 

No! Sirius wasn't alright, he was just caught daydreaming about his pretty boyfriend and his pretty girlfriend about all the nasty things they were going to do during lunch period. He gave a half ass apology to the professor while trying to pull the front of his sweater further down to his lap to cover his hard on. Waving his wand at the door of the dormitory bedroom, he softly opened it when he heard moaning. He grins at the sound of skin slapping and harsh moans. He feels proud of Remus when he hears you shout Remus’ name with profanity. 

“Fuck! Just like that baby. Remus!” Sirius’ pierced ears are ringing now from your moans. He can hear the bed frame banging against the wall. Remus’ bed is the first, anyone can see when opening the door. Sirius was glad because of this. He's leaning against the door frame with a look, his eyes filled with lust and awed. 

How he wished he could take a picture of you both. 

He admires Remus’ back, his skin is fair and marked with freckles along with scars. Sirius can see the pink scratches marks down Remus’s back, no doubt in his mind that they were from you. He hears Remus moans as he pulls your leg up to his shoulder. Sirius rubs his bottom lip with his thumb as he watches you take the pounding from Remus. 

Sirius begins to pull his belt off as he walks in to shut the door softly not wanting to disturb. He doesn't want to disturbed since he knows you're close. Remus had his hand around your neck as you rubbed your clit quickly. Remus isn't far behind, he's looking at you like you have hung the sun and moon just for him. Remus throws his head back when he feels you cumming. Remus whimpers your name, he gets closer, he's going to blow. Remus feels the bed dipped behind him. He feels a pair of lips against his shoulder, he doesn't fret. Is it even possible to know who the person is just by their lips? Remus knows, it's Sirius. 

“Cum baby.” Sirius whispers to him before biting on his shoulder as his hands roam around Remus’ body. You look up to see Sirius behind Remus, lifting your legs up, pulling it close to your chest as you whine at Remus’ slow and deep thrusts. You stared at them both as Remus was getting closer, Sirius gives you a wink when he brushes Remus’ ass with his hand and cups his balls from behind, Remus moans shamelessly as Sirius gently squeezes it giving him that push he needed to cum. 

Sirius holds his boyfriend when he cums. “Such a good boy, is that right, love?” Sirius asks you, looking over at you with a smile. 

You nod before looking at Remus. “Yes, our Remus is a good boy!” You used all the energy you had left to shout, making them laugh. Remus looks over at Sirius, he pecks his lips before Sirius hugs him from behind. 

“Fuckkk!” Sirius and Remus said simultaneously as they looked down when he slid his cock out of you. Your pussy lips are parted, they can see Remus’ thick cum dripping out of you after you move a bit. Remus bites his bottom lip as he uses the tip of his cock to scoop up some of the cum and rub it over your clit. Remus curses under his breath at the lovely sight. You're extra sensitive and Sirius can't help himself, he reaches his hand out, rubbing your clit with his thumb. 

“Sirius.” You moan trying to shut your legs but Remus stops you, placing a hand on your knee to keep them wide open for Sirius.

Sirius tells himself to relax, not wanting to push his boyfriend out of his way to taste his girlfriend’s cunt. You say his name again and Remus glances over at him when Sirius plays with the soft curls on your mound. 

“He’s thirsty.” Remus says to you with a grin. 

“So parched.” Sirius adds, bringing his index finger up and down your slit, he slides it in making you cry out when you feel one of his cold silver rings inside of your pussy. 

“Not tired?” Sirius asks you. You shake your head, you wanted him too. Sirius feels Remus lean against him, his gray eyes looking down at Remus’ half hardened cock. No one was tired yet, Sirius pulled away from you and brought his finger to Remus’ lips. Remus doesn't need to be told, he sucks Sirius’ finger, gently biting the tip of his finger with his teeth. 

“Give me a taste.” Sirius tells him. There wasn't anything hotter than watching them kiss. You have seen them kiss, fuck, snuggle. Everything they did was perfect in your eyes. Your pussy clenched around the nothingness when you saw Sirius slip his tongue in Remus’ mouth. Remus had cupped Sirius by the cheek pulling him further into the kiss while your fingers were in you, you bit your lip from crying out when you fingered yourself you didn't want them to stop not when Remus had moaned in Sirius mouth. Remus had his fingers in Sirius’ dark curls. 

Sirius pulls away to breathe as Remus’ lips attack his neck. Sirius looks down at you with bruised lips. Sirius moans your name when he sees you. His hand rubs your leg as he rolls his eyes when Remus licks his neck. 

“Both of you smell so good.” Remus says, Sirius smiles up at him kissing the tip of his nose before pulling him down to lay with you. 

“Hello.” Sirius whispered to you when he laid next to you. Remus laid on the other side, his lips were like magnets on your skin. He starts to kiss your bare arm while Sirius kisses you. 

Sirius kisses you, pulling you closer to him. He notices the marking on your shoulders. 

“Moony, what have you done to our girl?” Sirius asks as you nibble on his bottom lip. 

“Had us waiting for you, Si. Remus and I had to occupy ourselves.” Remus looks over your shoulder at Sirius. 

“Let’s show our Sirius how we occupy ourselves.” Remus said, making you grin as you roll on top of Sirius, pushing him down under you. 

Remus takes a deep breath as he looks over at Sirius and you. You're naked on him, pulling his tie and sweater off. Sirius keeps getting pushed down so you can remove his shirt. 

“Sirius! Let me tak-” Your words turned into fits of giggles when Sirius wrapped his arm around your waist pulling you down as he went between your legs. He’s quick to get off the bed to get himself naked. He rushes and throws the clothes over his shoulders, not caring where it went. Two pairs of eyes stare at Sirius’ body, he's lean and fit thanks from the years of playing Quidditch. His arms were toned, they flexed when he threw his trousers over.  

The cocky and confident Sirius Black blushes under Remus and your gaze, staring at him like he was the last cookie in the bakery. His nipples grew hard when he saw Remus touching himself, Sirius looked over at you and you grin when you lean over Remus’ lap. 

Remus moans your name softly, moving your hair to the side when you lick the tip of his cock. You moan loudly, still staring at Sirius as you kiss Remus’ shaft. 

“Naughty girl.” Sirius said, crawling to Remus’ lap on the other side of the bed. “Greedy aren't you?” Sirius whispers to you, giving you a kiss on the lips before licking the other side of Remus’ shaft. 

“Fuckk.” Remus cries as he watches Sirius and you licking his cock up. 

“Yes, I am.” You answered Sirius as you reached for his cock. Sirius moans with Remus’s cock in his mouth when you jerk him off. Remus grabs a hold of Sirius’ dark curls, holding him in place as he starts to thrust upwards in his warm mouth. 

“Pads! Please.” Remus begs, pleads for him to make him cum. You can hear Remus is close, you push yourself up and watch Sirius gag on Remus’ length. You crawl up to Remus, sitting next to him, rubbing his chest as you watch the show. Sirius’ cheeks are sunken in, his hands holding on to Remus’ thighs. 

Leaning over to kiss Remus, you held his face. 

“Cum down his throat.” You repeat it softly to him, edging him while kissing his neck. Nibbling on it as Remus blows his load down Sirius’s throat. 

He chokes when he pulls away from Remus' cock, he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and sees a flash of white, it’s your hair. Looking up, he sees you staring at him with Remus. Sirius crawls to you both. You welcome that cummy kiss with pleasure. He leaves you out of breath and leans at Remus for a kiss. Remus, like you, enjoys the kiss not caring he was tasting his own cum. The three of you have shared each other, all three have come to love it. You look up at him, hands running up and down his stomach, you licked your lips at him. His chin and small beard he was trying to grow was damp. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes were wide and the corners of his mouth turned up. 

“Come over here, mon coeur.” Sirius says turning you over on your hands and knees.

Remus took a deep breath as he watches Sirius fucking you. You look so fucking pretty on your hands and knee. Sirius is pulling your hair as you hold the sheets under you. Sirius praises you as he holds your hip with one hand and the other in your hair pulling your head back. Remus shakes his head trying not to get hard again, it's difficult especially when you're loving being treated like that. You beg Sirius to fuck you harder, calling him Padfoot makes him go faster and you're holding on for dear life on Remus’ pillow. Your breasts bouncing every time he thrust from behind frantically. 

Remus can see your eyes roll into the back of your head when Sirius lets your hair go and grabs your hips with both hands, you can't hold yourself up. Chest to the mattress and ass in the air, you took everything he gave you. Your movement changed the angles he was thrusting, it made Sirius moan loudly. The tip of his fat cock hits that sweet spot in you every time. You call Sirius name when you cum on his cock, he feels it. He keeps thrusting into your dripping pussy, your slick is dripping down the sheets on Remus’ bed. Sirius holds you tight as he comes, he looks over at Remus who was enjoying the show. His hands under his head, he had a leg over the other as he watched. 

“That was hot, Padfoot and Cariad.” Remus looks down at you as you shut your eyes enjoying the pleasure you had just endured. Sirius is gentle with you when he pulls out, all he wants to do is slip inside of your warm cunt. He sees, you are trying to catch your breath. He rubs your bare back, gently scratches it, making goosebumps raise up on your skin. Sirius drops down next to you, his hand never leaving your body. He feels Remus move closer to you too. Sirius lays on his back, with one hand he moves the sweaty strands of his hair out of his face as he stares up at the ceiling. He listens to Remus talk to you in whispers. After a minute, Remus gets up to the bathroom. Sirius looks over at you to see you laying down on your back as well. 

Sirius does not hesitate to bring a hand on your cheek, cupping it warmly, He rubs your cheek with his thumb. 

“Moony, getting you water?” Sirius asks you. Nodding to him, he leans over to grab Remus' wand from the night stand. Without a word, the blanket on his bed across the room flew over. Remus walks back to the bed with a glass of water in his hand. The blanket passes him and covers you completely. 

“Thank you, Si.” You said softly to him. Sirius just nods and watches you sit up grabbing the water from Remus. 

“Thank you.” Remus nods at you as you give him back a half empty cup. Sirius shakes his head at Remus who offers him some.

“I missed this.” You said after a while Remus laid down next to you. 

“The fucking?” Sirius asks and you roll your eyes at him playfully. 

“No, the fucking is nice but I meant laying together in one bed.” You told them feeling Remus’ hand on your leg. 

“Haven't done it in a while.” Remus comments agreeing with you. Everyone has been busy, since it's their last year. 

“After this year, we will do this more. Spending time together, sleeping in the same bed. Right?” Sirius asks you since he knows what Remus will say. They had spoken about this with you. They wanted you to stay with them in Remus’ family cottage after school. You looked over at Sirius and nodded at him. 

“Yes, after school. Just us.” You told him then looked up at the ceiling. Leaving your family wouldn't be difficult. You didn’t accept their pure-blood ways. You didn't give a damn about it, you started to fight with them about the subject especially since one of the men you love is a half-blood. You would miss Lucius that was for sure even if your brother was a bit supercilious. He had saved you under the hands of your condescending parents. The smacks that were about to be given to you, he would take them instead when he was around. Lucius would understand why you left. He has too, once he sees his little sister happy, truly happy. He will understand. You long to be with Remus and Sirius in that cottage. You smile up at the ceiling when you feel Sirius and Remus lean their head against your shoulders. 

Enjoying their embrace and their warmth, reality hits back. Reality of going back to your dorm, going back to class, going back to pretending that you didn't know them. It was your doing, Remus and Sirius wanted everyone to know but you and Sirius knew that being from a pure-blood wizarding family that supports who shall not be named have many advantages of getting rid of people, it took time for Remus to process it. 

“If something bad were to happen to you because of me?” You told Remus who was in tears that you had rejected the idea of telling people about the three of you. 

“I would kill myself. I’ll do it after killing them.” You admitted to him and Remus and Sirius saw that fiery look in your eyes. You weren't bluffing. 

“Oh baby, if they hurt you or even Sirius.” You whispered to Remus. “I’ll burn that fucking manor to the ground.” 

Remus understood at the end. He did, he understood it was for his safety and after what Sirius told him about children suffering under their parent’s hands who were pure-bloods. Remus played the part and once in a while he would find himself staring at you as you passed him by the corridor. Usually Peter and Frank will drag him out of his trance. They will tease him wanting to know who had caught the eyes of Remus Lupin. Remus bites his tongue to not say your name. 

“Why were you so late, Si?” You asked Sirius after a few moments of silence. Sirius had turned to his side, with a hand under his head, holding it up. He used the other hand to draw random shapes on the bare skin of your hip.

“James was trying to comfort Lily. She’s been getting bullied by a couple of Ravenclaws lately. The bullying has gotten worse since she became head girl. They were calling her a mudblood. She’s still not used to that name.” You roll your eyes at that term, such a ugly word. 

You listened as Sirius continued to explain how James asked him to stay with him for a little while until they tried to calm Lily down from her sobbing. You didn’t say anything as you felt Remus grabbed your arm draping it over his body. He kissed your hand as Sirius kept talking. Sirius' fingers started to play with the ends of your hairs, twirling the white platinum hair around his finger. You noticed the worried look on Remus and Sirius’ face. You didn't like seeing your boyfriends like this but those were one of the many things you loved about them. They loved their friends so much. 

“What are their names?” You asked Sirius. He hums while he thinks. “James only said the main one was Cassie. That's the leader.” 

“I hope Lily feels better.” You said then looked over at the small clock Remus had in the night stand by the bed. 

“Fuck! My last class will start soon.” You exclaimed as you pushed the blanket off your body and jumped out of the bed. 

“I didn’t get to spend time with you though!” Sirius pouts with a groan as Remus pushes himself up to sit. Remus leans down to grab his boxers while you grab your bra. 

“Next time, let's use magic to take off our clothes away and have it neatly folded in one place.” You told them as you found your underwear near a case with James Potter's name written on it. 

“That's no fun.” Sirius said as he and Remus stared at your bare ass while you bent down to pick up your socks. 

You just shake your head as you sit on the edge of the bed. You hear Remus call your name, looking over he has your sweater and skirt in one hand. 

“Oh, thank you.” You tell him as he makes you stand between his legs and buttons your skirt for you. Sirius grabbed your white button up shirt near him off the floor when he saw you walking to the other side of the room for your tie. 

“Thanks.” You mumbled kissing Sirius’ on the cheek. “You can always skip it. More time we can spend together.” Sirius said as he watched you get dressed. 

“Soon you will. Don’t worry.” You fixed your skirt as you walked over towards the pouting man and kissed him on the lips. Sirius moaned in your mouth as you deepened the kiss. You gave him one last kiss to get him through the day. Pulling away, Sirius tries to go back for another kiss but you shake your head fixing the collar of your shirt. 

“I love you.” You tell Sirius and his eyes grow large for a second and a coy smile appears on his handsome face. 

“You can't leave this room now. Say it again.” Sirius said, making you laugh but you repeat it. You say you love him and he kisses you before saying back to you.  

“It’s getting late. If I get another tardiness, my parents will have my ass.” You sighed walking away from Sirius to the bed where you saw your shoes. Remus grabs your bag from the floor. 

“You don’t love me anymore, mon coeur.” Sirius dramatically said as he plopped himself back on the bed like a starfish. Remus walks with you to the door. 

“See you later.” He says as he fixes your tie before leaning down to give you a goodbye kiss. You can see Remus was trying to say something. You tilt your chin upwards looking at him for a second.

“I love you.” Remus says softly as he leans against the door frame. You smile at him, he is just the cutest. 

“I love you too.” You said going up to your tiptoes to kiss him. Remus watches you hurry down the stairs with a smile on his face.  

“She said it.” Remus shuts the door when he hears Sirius. Looking back, he sees Sirius smiling wide as he stares up at the ceiling. 

���She did.” Remus said feeling happy inside. Sirius props himself up on his elbows and looks at Remus.  

“I love you, Moony.” Sirius says, as Remus walk over towards him. Sirius lays back down on the bed with Remus over him. Remus cages Sirius' head with his arms, Sirius welcomes his weight over him. Wrapping his arms around his waist, Remus leans down and stops just a few centimeters away from Sirius’ lips. 

“I love you too, Padfoot.” 

“Kiss me.” Sirius whispers to Remus. 

It was morning and they were in the great hall for breakfast. James was next to Lily who was still quiet after yesterday's events. Remus and Sirius shared a concerned look before trying to get her to talk, asking her about a muggle book she was reading a week ago. While Peter sat near Sirius, he munched on his bacon and eggs. The table didn’t notice three girls walking towards them. 

“Look what we have here girls, the little mudblood.” Lily looked down at her plate when the voice came behind her. 

“Why don’t you fuck off, Cassie.” James said, defending his girlfriend. He stared daggers at the Ravenclaw girl as he stood up from his seat. The brunette rolled her eyes at James and ignored him before leaning down close to Lily while her two other friends stayed behind. 

“Can't fight your own battle. You fucking filthy mud-.” Cassie never got to finish her sentence, Lily flinched when all of sudden the girl over her shoulder was pushed down on the Gryffindor’s table. Her head banged on the table, making everyone jump. 

“Oh shit.” Peter yelled as Sirius and Remus looked at you with wide eyes as you pushed the Cassie's head down on the table. Making her yelp in pain, you grabbed one of her arms twisting behind her back as you continued to push her head against the table. 

“You like calling people by that name?! Say it again I dare you.” You hissed, grabbing a fist full of hair and banging her head again on the table making the plates and cups jump up. 

"Say it again!" You jeer at Cassie. Remus looks over when he remembers Cassie wasn't alone, about to get up from his seat in case, Cassie's friends fight you but he sat back down when he saw a bunch of Slytherin’s girls surrounding them, trapping the two girls. He had seen a few of them before hanging out with you; he knew they were your friends. Sirius noticed a group of students from House Slytherin near the teacher's table speaking to them. One had even looked over their shoulder before quickly drawing the teacher’s attention back to them and it hits Sirius like a ton of bricks, this whole thing was planned. If anyone was staring at him, they could see his pupils tuning into hearts when he looked back at you. 

“Wait! Wai-” Lily stood up from her seat when Cassie cried out. James was quick to pull Lily close to him, taking a step back to see how this would unfold. 

Hushing Cassie, you freed her arm and pressed the tip of your wand against her cheek as you continued to hold her head down. There was a group forming around the table as they watched you. 

“Bother her again and I’ll make your life a living hell. I swear it.” You sneered at her as you banged her head again before freeing her when she yelled okay. You took a step back when Cassie slumped down to the floor. You rolled your eyes at the sight of her on the ground then looked up to see the redhead who was still being held by James. 

Lily is filled with shocked and is fucking nervous. She knows who you are, she speaks to you with a shaky tone. “Thank you.” 

You can feel your boyfriends’ eyes staring at you as you tilted your head at Lily getting a good look at the girl after she thanked you. She looked like a sweet girl and you can see why your boyfriends care about her. You wanted to laugh as she looked at you like you were her knight and shining armor but didn’t. Casting one last dirty look at Cassie below you looked at Lily. 

“Let me know if anyone else bothers you.” You tell her then look down at Lily’s plate on the table. Remus swears he sees you peeking at him through your lashes as you grabbed a piece of bacon from her plate. Without a single word you turn around, taking a bite of the bacon. The other students standing around didn't have to be told to move, the moment they saw you walking, they parted like the red sea for you to pass. Remus and Sirius watched you walk out of the great hall with your friends following behind you. 

“Fuck! Lily, how did you manage to get protection from a Slytherin?” James asked as he watched Cassie being helped up from her friends. 

“Not just any Slytherin. Merlin! You got help from the Queen Bee.” Alice commented before turning back to her plate. 

“I don’t know how. I had never spoken to her. I’m surprised she would even help me, a muggle-born like me.” Lily said as she sat back down to finish the rest of her breakfast.  

“You think she knows who we are?” Peter asked around the table. James shrugs his shoulders at his friend but couldn’t help but smile when Lily started talking again. 

Remus and Sirius shared a look once more before they went back to their breakfast not answering Peter. They didn’t ask for you to do anything for their dear friend, Lily. Their hearts did a flip in their chest of your selfless act. Remus is counting the days for this year to be over so all three of you can be together. Sirius is asking Alice for some parchment paper to write you a note. Sirius and Remus had to see you now, he is already making up excuses to tell Professor McGonagall on why they won't be going to class. 

[talesofadragon]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐔𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞

Summary: Theodore Nott came to learn that an inciting incident can alter the course of history. Lucius Malfoy’s fall led to Draco’s dark mark and the death of Dumbledore. The rise of the Dark Lord urged Harry Potter into hiding and Death Eaters into prominence. And then there was Amycus Carrow, with his tainted hands on Y/N, who forced Theodore Nott to do the unforgivable.

Warnings: Sexual assault, attempted rape, graphic description of violence, panic attacks

Pairing: Theodore Nott x Non-Slytherin!Reader

Genre: Angst | Hurt/Comfort

Word count: 5.8K

All Masterlists | Theodore Nott Masterlist

𝐅𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐥𝐬. The lines between the two flow steadily, each following its own cadence. And yet, despite their distinct course and the light years between them, they somehow find a way to draw parameters of joint space. Somehow, someway, they eventually overlap—meeting each other at the apex of catalysts and the twists between junctures to shape history and write the present.

Today starts like most stories do: quaint and subtle, setting the tone for an inciting incident that will tip this fable on its axis.

It’s a typical day, or as typical as it could get during Y/N’s last year at Hogwarts. She’s sitting at the far end of her Defense Against the Dark Arts class, donning the same apprehensive expression as all her classmates. The turmoil that governs the halls is a jarring contrast to the flourishing and effervescent school of witchcraft and wizardry Hogwarts once was.

In this mangled reality, there are specks of the idyllic tales she’s heard about, and witnessed, growing up. Slytherins and Gryffindors sustain their infamous rivalry while in search of their individual purpose, purebloods hold themselves on par with Merlin himself, and more often than not, students find refuge in a forgotten nuke in Hogwarts when the burden of magic becomes too heavy to bear.

In the first drafts of the story, Hogwarts held its students under one embrace. But now, as we’re nearing a hazy end, an isolating veil drapes over the school, fracturing it into fewer than four houses and dividing it more than ever before.

“Now, as Barty Crouch Junior has so tirelessly shared, you have already been acquainted with Merlin’s three most formidable spells,” Alecto Carrow, one of Voldemort’s trusted Death Eaters explains. Her heels dig into the marble floors of the classroom, their screeches ricocheting across the walls in warning. 

“The Unforgivables,” her brother Amycus eagerly finishes. His yellow teeth wither under the dim light of the darkened sun as his arms open wide. It’s unsettling how he and his sister welcome such misfortune so openly.

As it happens every single time the Carrow twins revel in the darkest boulevards of magic, Y/N shifts in her seat until she’s nearly imperceptible. Each time, her eyes rove the expanse of the classroom, seeking out the comfort of peculiar hazel eyes. Within just ten seconds, her wandering gaze comes to rest on the idle brown walls, a weight of defeat settling upon her.

Upon her reluctant return to Hogwarts this year, Y/N was met with a torrent of unimaginable changes, starting with students being separated not only based on their house but also their blood status.

Purebloods became a procession of peacocks—majestic, refined, otherworldly. Only allowed to flick around with students of the same upper class. 

Half-bloods, on the other hand, belong to inconsistent ideologies. They teeter on the precipice of honor, waiting for Death Eaters like Umbridge and whoever else is in the Ministry to decide their fate. 

Muggleborns, it's best not to get started.

Y/N doodles a few meaningless shapes, swirling her quill around the parchment as she thinks of Theodore. Lately, it's become increasingly difficult to talk to him, let alone spot him, with all the changes in place.

Her classmates know she’s not paying attention and that she's only pretending she has her nose buried deep in her notes. Her quill, which scratches against the parchment, is nothing but a ruse to get the Carrows off her scent. 

This class truly has nothing to offer except for a modicum of nostalgia and a barrage of abuse, so if the Carrows are so gullible to believe that Y/N is actively listening, then so be it. 

By now, she takes it a step further, looking up to meet the eyes of the young children brought forth by the Carrows. She’s mastered the art of stoicism to a T, gazing at their expressions without showing a measly emotion. But every single time, she finds herself transported eons back to a time when things were drastically better.

Her memories vary, depending on whatever catalyst she encounters. She recalls seeing a girl with ginger waves once, and her mind acted on autopilot, bringing her back to the times she and her friends would huddle in their common room to animatedly talk about the latest Weasley prank. 

At the previous hints of pink, she remembered Umbridge when she was finally escorted outside of Hogwarts grounds. 

And today, her memories are not too different. Bittersweet at best and wistful at most. 

She finds a boy biting down on his lower lip. He’s a Gryffindor, judging by the color of his tie, more so by his audaciousness when he decides to lift his head and contain his fear. His eyes are hazel, edging closer to honey brown underneath the dim light of the classroom. And her mind is cruel enough to conjure the image of Theodore hovering above her naked body with lustful hazel eyes and abused fiery lips. 

Theodore doesn’t particularly fancy his eye color—he doesn’t quite fancy much about himself. He’s not oblivious to his popularity, but unlike Draco Malfoy, who shines like the stars, Theodore Nott glows like the moon in a dance of subtlety and intensity; a paradoxical luminosity that always leaves Y/N in awe. 

He never particularly bothered her during their first couple of years at Hogwarts, which explains why they never interacted until their fifth year. Back when Umbridge was foul toward the student population, especially vile toward anyone of lesser blood. 

Dennis Creevey, who had been a first-year at that time, fell victim to her malice. His penance for being born to muggle parents was bloodily etched on his hand. Y/N tried to help him, even though her own hand was hurting just as badly. The healing spells didn’t counter the dark magic infused in the quills, and while she could handle the pain, the poor eleven-year-old couldn’t. 

"May I?" a voice softly breathed from behind her, causing her to jump slightly. She turned to see the unexpected sight of Theodore Nott, dressed in an emerald green tie and an aura of pristine silver. Y/N's breath caught in her throat, and her hands trembled, a reaction heightened by the delicate hints of cinnamon swirling in the air.

When Theodore pulled out his wand, Dennis cowered. And to her surprise, Theodore’s face fell. Yet he quickly covered his crestfallen expression with a mask of pure stoicism.

Y/N’s gaze meandered away from the Slytherin and settled on the young Gryffindor. “It’s okay, Dennis,” she recalled herself saying at the time, even though she hadn’t mentally given her words the green light to tumble out of her mouth. Both Dennis and Theodore seemed equally surprised, turning their heads her way. “He’s not going to hurt you.” 

Maybe it was the softness of Theodore’s hazel eyes, or maybe it was how he abstained from touching the boy's bruised hand and elected to kneel to his level. To this day, Y/N doesn’t know what exactly made her fall for Theodore at that exact moment in time. 

Yet, all she knows in certainty is that she’s in love with Theodore Aurelius Nott. Pureblood, Slytherin Elite, Son of Darkness. But what can she do if one glance at his hazel orbs leaves her drowning in the depths of his moonshine?

“Miss Y/L/N!” 

Y/N’s head jerks when a protruding voice disturbs her reverie. She chances a glance at the front of the classroom, finding Alecto Carrow’s lidded eyes on her. Bright and sage, a stark contrast to the malevolence nestled within them.

“Yes?” Y/N wonders aloud.

“Given your diligence in recording the theoretical aspect of The Unforgivables, I believe it’s time for you to engage in the practicalities of said lesson,” Alecto announces with a tone that leaves no room for negotiation or refutation. 

With a sharp nod, she ushers Y/N out of her seat, beckoning her over until she's two steps away from her. Y/N stands idly, unaware of whether she's going to role-play as the tormentor or the tormented. But her internal questions are answered the moment Amycus Carrow shoves the Gryffindor boy with hazel eyes into her line of sight.

"Go on." Alecto wears a sinister expression as she levels Y/N with a taunting smile. "Demonstrate your aptitude to the class.”

Y/N doesn't step back nor does she shy away. She clings to the apathetic front she's adopted from her boyfriend, her gaze falling on the young boy, and her thoughts drowning out Alecto's sharp voice. By the time Amycus asks her to draw out her wand, she's mustered up enough confidence to answer with a terse "no."

“What do you mean no, you insolent brat!” Alecto bellows, being the first to succumb to her temper. For a snake, she is known to be as hot-headed as a lion. 

“I refuse to perform any curse on anyone,” Y/N clarifies, purposefully refraining from calling her “professor.” And if she had half a brain cell, perhaps she would’ve figured it out. 

“Is that so?” Alecto challenges. 

“Yes.” 

“Very well, despicable half-breed. You know the rules. You’re either the rodent or the snake. Guess you’ll always be the former.” 

She's calm and aloof on the outside, but Y/N is dreading what’s coming next. She’s never fallen victim to the Cruciatus, though she has heard all about it from Theodore and his friends—even once from Harry. 

She watches with steady eyelashes as Alecto draws her wand and points it at her. Although the curse is released, and screams reverberate across the walls, both Alecto and Y/N remain silent.

To Y/N's horror, the young Gryffindor boy thrashes on the ground with clenched fists and agonizing wails. Above him, Amycus stands like a conductor, his wand beckoning the crooked notes of the boy's voice to rise to a crescendo.

Finally, the screams die down, extinguishing and feeding the anguish of every student at once. Amycus turns to address the class, dismissing them all except for one. “You go ahead, Alecto,” he directs toward his sister. “If the little mouse wishes to squeak, then she’ll have to suffer graver consequences than what you have to offer.” 

Whatever Amycus has in mind seems to appease Alecto. Her expression is mirthful as she grabs the robes of the young Gryffindor boy and sweeps him out of the class, using his body as a cleaning broom. 

The students all file out, their glances lingering on Y/N. As the last of the students leaves, Amycus turns to the young girl. 

“Your wand, Miss Y/L/N,” he demands. Y/N debates not giving it to him, but she knows if she doesn’t, he’ll come and collect it himself. So, she reluctantly hands it over. “Ah, pretty little thing. What’s the core?”

“Dragon heartstring.” 

“Fitting for a spitfire like you.” 

“I thought I was a meek little mouse,” Y/N counters, making Amycus grin. 

“You are a lot of things, little girl,” he replies as he twirls her wand in his hand. “The wood?” 

“Larch.” 

“Enlighten me, Y/L/N,” Amycus voices out. If Y/N’s a mouse, then he seems to enjoy being a cat. His long and calloused fingers trace her wand while he circles her, trying to break her resolve. “What does the wood say about you?”

The question strokes her ear, carried by Amycus’ ghastly voice. Y/N stills, not seeing where he’s going. She jolts as Amycus taps the wand against her thigh, particularly the exposed skin between her skirt and stockings. 

“It’s best paired with wizards and witches who possess hidden talents,” she replies tersely. 

The hum coming from her side indicates that Amycus is listening—paying attention, though, not so much, considering he’s rather preoccupied with poking her skin with her wand while rotating around her. 

He’s playing with his food, Y/N tells herself, knowing this is just another trick of his. Somewhere in his sadist brain, his senses are sparking with delight at the prospect of Y/N’s discomfort, relishing the power he has over her.

A part of her wants to jam her wand in his eyes, pluck his eyeballs out, and proceed to stuff each in his nostrils. But another part of her stands idle, not even blinking as he keeps up his ministrations. 

Amycus smiles, taking up more of her personal space. Y/N’s senses are lit on fire as he traces her wand across her body. “Is your mouth a part of those talents, filthy witch? You don’t talk much, but rotten girls like you must know how to use their mouths.”

“To scream, I presume,” Y/N breathes. Her quip hits Amycus right in the face, and the maniac grins. His face is painted with a nefarious glee, that of a predator eager to feast on its prey. 

SA and Attempted Rape Content Begins Here. Skip Through This Scene by Scrolling to "Scene End."

The unsettling sensation against her ribs dissipates when Amycus pulls the wand away, but the apprehension still lingers. As she mentally prepares herself for the inevitable pain that comes along with the Cruciatus, Amycus’ hand cups her chin, and his molten lips crash against hers. The sensation is so crippling and unfavorable it sends her tumbling back into the table.

The pressure on YN’s cheeks intensifies until it becomes sharp and metallic. Fingers dig into her flesh, paving a path for Amycus’ tongue to follow. Though her hands slap against his chest, legs flailing around, he continues his exploration in the depths of her throat. 

It feels like he’s finally thrown her off a cliff, yet with all the energy Y/N can muster, she pushes his body away and slaps him across the face. 

He looks at her with unadulterated rage. Y/N forgoes reading his face in favor of bolting toward the door. But before she reaches the handle, she’s yanked back by her robes. The fabric tears, as does her heart. Amycus then throws her on top of the teacher’s desk and catches both her wrists in his hand. 

“Pitty your blood is impure, little witch. If you had to match your filthy mouth with something, I’d rather it be your pussy than your blood.” 

“Get off me,” Y/N enunciates with a quiver in her voice. It seems to feed Amycus’ wicked desires because she suddenly finds him nipping at her neck in pure delight. 

“You’ve disobeyed my direct order. When witches are bad, they’re punished.”

“You’re sick!” 

“And you’re delicious.” 

Y/N takes a deep breath, burying his face further in the junction between her neck and shoulder. His kisses are filthy, heavy, frigid. They make her body feel like ice—they make her feel as if she's been snatched and thrown into the depths of the Dark Lake. 

Amycus' hands grab her waist and flip her over until her gaze meets the darkness of the desk’s wood. If the sensation of the wand against her thigh left acid in her mouth, then Amycus’ fingers left her with bile overwhelming her senses.

“What a pretty little ass you’re hiding under here. It was made to be ruined.”

Y/N doesn’t have time to panic. In fluid movements, Amycus lifts her skirt, rips off the shorts she typically wears beneath, and spanks her ass. 

She yelps, struggling against the hand against her back that’s keeping her on the desk. She’s hit one more time and then two and three. The slaps are forceful and fiery, leaving her skin scalded and singed. 

A roar erupts from the depths of her soul when she feels a finger easing her thong. The force of her scream catches Amycus off guard, enough for Y/N to elbow him and dive to the ground for her wand. 

“Cruc—”

“Oh, so now you want to cast it!” 

With ease, Amycus manages to slap Y/N’s wand away. He ruthlessly places his palm against her stomach, pushing her back to the ground. 

Her head aches from the force of the blow, a scream barrelling through the space between her lips when Amycus towers over her, digging his obsidian nails into her skin. 

“It’s a shame that the most delightful toys happen to be the filthiest. Maybe this will teach you and your kind that you will forever remain beneath us.”

Y/N cries as Amycus incapacitates her lips. She squirms underneath his body, vaguely aware of the fabric he’s tearing in half, though oblivious to what clothing item it belongs to. 

She tries to non-verbally cast a spell, but her mind is too distracted to focus on the incantation. All she knows is that she needs to get Amycus off her. And yet, no amount of strength in her hands or her spells manages to draw him to a stop. 

His spit traces her lower lip, tantalizingly closing the distance between her mouth and collarbone. Y/N shudders, bellowing at the thought of his saliva trailing her skin. 

She wails, screams, and shouts until she realizes that Amycus probably cast Silencio without her knowing. Though futile, she tries to push his body weight off her, even resorts to kicking his ribs. 

It doesn’t work... until by some miracle from Merlin himself Amycus’ body flies toward the back wall, releasing her.

Scene End

Y/N gasps, pushing her palms against the tiled floor and lifting herself to a sitting position. Her chest heaves as she looks at the discarded fabric of her skirt, the scattered buttons of her shirt, and the remains of her robe that are haphazardly strewn across the room. 

Faint sounds register at the back of her mind. A heavy breath, mirroring her own, emanates from behind, accompanied by an erratic heartbeat that matches hers. Amidst it all, she picks up on Amycus’s forlorn groans, muffled by the surrounding darkness. Resilient ropes now bind his hands and feet, rendering him completely motionless.

“Get Y/N out of here,” a voice orders. It’s far away—at least, Y/N thinks so. But despite the fog around its edges, she can somehow sense the enmity lacing it. 

Before she can process the shadows creeping closer to her side, a robe is draped over her shoulders as arms wrap securely around her.

She thrashes against the man holding her, trying to repel his hands from her body. “It’s okay, Y/N,” he says in a low octave. “It’s okay. You’re okay. You’re safe. I promise you. He can't touch you anymore.” 

The voice carries a bit of an edge, yet it’s the most soothing sound she’s heard all day. Her lips quiver as she internally fights with her thoughts, head spinning and shaking in defeat. 

The halls around her move fast, time seemingly irrelevant at this point. She’s crying and mumbling incoherently, burying her face in the fabric of this stranger’s clothes, which smell like a familiar blend of mint and citrus. 

The robe is wrapped tighter around her shoulders, and she receives a faint squeeze as she’s brought up a staircase. Words are whispered, a door is opened, and voices mingle with one another until a delicate tone enters her headspace.

“Draco, who’s that you’re carrying?” 

“It’s Y/N,” the male voice, the one belonging to Draco, replies. Draco kicks open a door and places Y/N on the bed. She wails even more at the action, curling herself into a ball—at this point, she doesn’t know if she should be relieved or terrified.

“What the hell happened to her?” 

“Lower your voice, Pansy! Can’t you see she’s scared enough?” 

Pansy stutters for a few seconds before asking again, “Who did this to her?” 

Draco hesitates, looking between the two young women. “Amycus,” he replies. And though it’s barely a mumble, it’s enough to send Y/N spiraling. 

Pansy’s jade eyes tread carefully as they peer over Y/N’s frail body. She sees the red marks on her hands and the blood that seeps from the cuts on her face. “Cruciatus?” she asks, but something in her tone makes it obvious that it’s just wishful thinking. 

“No,” Draco answers. Y/N’s sniffles and shudders fill the air as Pansy and Draco exchange silent glances. Y/N clutches her throat, rubbing it to try and get herself more oxygen. 

“What do we do?” 

Draco's footsteps echo as he retreats toward the door. “You're going to her clean up. If Theo hasn’t killed Amycus yet, I’m going to join him in his pursuit.”

There was something in that last line that clamped agony around Y/N’s heart, squeezing like a vice. She wept, only vaguely conscious of Pansy’s soothing touch in her hair and the remnants of Draco's anger looming around the room.

The mirror in the bathroom captures two girls in its glassy frame. One of them is put together while the other looks worse for wear. Y/N stares at her wild reflection, moroseness painting her irises. A tiny sob escapes her barely parted lips, and Pansy decides to tear Y/N’s attention away from the broken girl staring at them through the mirror. 

She softly holds Y/N's hand and helps her to the shower, turning her head when Y/N undresses and then carefully cleans her blotched skin. Once they’re done, she lends Y/N some pajamas and underwear, giving her the privacy and space to change into them before helping her dry her hair.

Wordlessly, Pansy leads Y/N away from the mirror. Her grip is firm as she swings open the bathroom door. Y/N squints against the sudden invasion of light from the room beyond. Her gaze takes in the expanse of her surroundings and the rich emerald hue of the Head Dorm's walls. Then, her eyes lock on two men. One with platinum blond hair and the other with brunette locks, both embracing the shadows with deadly intent in their fiery eyes.

She bristles, caught between shying away and clutching the attention she’s receiving from them. Y/N doesn’t dwell on their appearance for too long, afraid to develop the ability to read their eyes and stumble across the shame and pity possibly nestled within them. 

Pansy whispers something under her breath, which Y/N fails to hear under the barrage of despondency she finds herself in. She feels Pansy’s hesitant touch on her forearm, briefly catching her and Draco retreating away, the door to the room closing behind them in a soft thud. 

Silence runs freely around the room, undeterred by the confined space. Its loudness disturbs Y/N, forcing her to wince. She wills herself to say something, but all the words are lodged in her throat, searing it from the inside out.

Theodore takes a deep breath, the sound piercing the stillness in the air. But his words don’t leave his mouth the same way his gaze never paces beyond a fixed point on the ground. 

“Why are you not looking at me?” Y/N asks. She’s surprised that she’s articulated her thoughts even though she doesn’t have enough strength to speak.

Theodore shakes his head. “I can’t”. His words have finally forced his gaze away from the ground, although he’s refusing to settle it on her.

“I wouldn’t look at me either. I get it.” Y/N sniffles. Darkness clouds her sight. She’s tired and aching, barely finding her grip on reality. 

She wants to scream, and she wants to cry, but it’s like she doesn’t know how. Like her mainframe has been hijacked and forced to shut down. 

Something in her periphery catches her attention. Theodore is now standing before her, hands trembling by his sides. They move to embrace her waist, to hold her shoulders, to cup her face; but they never do. They only trace invisible lines that mirror her figure. It’s then that she notices the fray in his gaze. Instead of the rejection and the indifference she expected to find, there’s dejectedness, misery, and pain. 

“I would look at you forever if you let me,” Theodore answers with his hands hanging in the space between them. “If you would still allow me.”

“Touch me,” Y/N retorts. Hold me, find me, fix me, love me.

And Theodore does just that with unprecedented gentleness. He traces her cheeks with his thumb and pulls her by the waist closer to his side. His nose nuzzles her neck, breathing in her scent. His lips press against the shell of her ear, his warm breath penetrating her soul and sending a fond tingle down her spine. 

He touches her, not like she’s a porcelain doll or a bomb about to detonate. Theodore touches her like she’s the most precious piece of art he’s ever encountered, and he’s afraid that even one stumbled breath could force her colors away.

“I love you,” he confesses. A loan tear accompanies his declaration, inscribing the words on the fabric of Y/N’s soul. “And I am so sorry. So sorry, my love, for what my absence and negligence have put you through.”

“Theo…”

“No, Y/N. Don’t. Don’t try to say anything.” 

Theodore wipes her tears, gently tucking some loose strands of her hair behind her ears. Y/N nods, allowing her boyfriend to hoist her in his arms and carry her to bed. She hides her face in his neck, absorbing the lingering traces of his sandalwood perfume. 

When he places her on the bed, she notices the change in his demeanor as soon as she tangles her legs with his and rushes to press his hands against his chest. Her eyes fill with tears, and she fails to prepare herself for the rejection that she’s afraid might be rushing her way. 

To her astonishment, Theodore pulls her into a tighter hug, as if seeking a connection beyond the surface, binding together not only their skin but also the intricate layers below—souls, hearts, atoms.

“Did he…” Theodore pauses, choking on unspoken words. “Did he go far?”

Y/N shook her head. “No. You and Draco came just in time.”

“Barely,” Theodore denies. A stolen glance gives Y/N a clear view of his clenched jaw and crestfallen expression. The war may be looming, yet to find its way to the Wizarding World, but it has already made a dominion in Theodore’s features. 

“Just in time.” Minutes pass while Y/N is cocooned protectively in between Theodore’s strong arms. They encase her, filling her being with the placidity and the tenderness that was robbed of her some time ago. Her eyes close, darkness not as fearful as it seemed now that Theodore’s hands are weaving through her hair, and his voice is carrying a tender lullaby. “How did you know?”

Theodore’s hands falter and the lullaby ends on an abrupt note. His arms pull Y/N closer to his chest as he ruefully explains what happened, “A Gryffindor boy found me. He was frightened and jittery. At first, I thought it was because Draco and I were standing together. Then he said something about Defense class, the Carrows, and the Cruciatus. Your name got suddenly tangled in the gruesomeness of it all, so I rushed to the class as far as I could." 

“They wanted me to hurt him,” Y/N whispers in a small voice.

“I know.”

“I couldn’t do it.”

Theodore looks at her with glassy eyes. “I know you would never.” 

His hands sooth Y/N, featherless touches easing the altercation in her soul. She meets his gaze, heart shattering at the pain he harbors. She knows it’s not easy for Theodore to be a silent witness to torture and heartache, understanding his unconscious pursuit of absorbing pain and rooting it in his very being.

“Please,” she begins, “please, Theo. Don’t blame yourself.”

“I’ve failed you.”

“You haven’t.”

He declines vehemently, “I promised to protect you from the darkness, within me and beyond me. And I have clearly done neither.”

You had no way of knowing! Y/N argued in her head. You, alone, cannot stop this madness! So many rebuttals swarmed her head. She wanted to pelt Theodore with every single one of them until some sense got knocked into him. “Darkness,” he says so loosely as if he’s ever exposed her to any of it. 

All her memories of Theodore exuded radiance, softness, and peace. He’s only ever steered her away from the darkness, whether it was from Umbridge’s rage back in their fifth year or Bellatrix’s terror at the end of their sixth. 

To hear him speak of himself like this, as if he’s one of them, a shadow branded by the mark of death, hurts her more than everything Amycus did to her. 

“What did you do to Amycus?”

The name causes Theodore’s heart to falter beneath the palm of Y/N’s hands. Her eyes trace the veins of his neck, astounded by the voraciousness of their color as his anger escalates. “Do not say that vermin’s name.” 

Darkness, Theodore would call it if he sees himself now. And yet, all the world is witnessing according to Y/N is a darker shade of love and concern: just as sincere, a lot more warm. 

“Carrow,” she concedes. “What did you do to Carrow?”

“I wanted to kill him,” Theodore answers, studying Y/N’s face for a reaction. “I almost killed him.” If he was looking for disgust or worse, fear, he couldn’t find it.

“And why didn’t you?”

“Draco called for Snape.”

Y/N hums, absentmindedly reaching for Theodore’s hand. He hesitates when he feels her fingers entwining with his, his entire body tensing up. Y/N whines, and he takes a deep breath. His fingers lace hers, squeezing her hand before bringing it to his lips. 

“Are you in trouble?”

“No, treasure. No one but that scum is. Snape said nothing. He bound his hands and escorted him to his office.”

“Good,” Y/N replies.

“That’s not all,” Theodore intercedes, catching her attention. She shifts in his arms, waiting for his next words with a bated breath. “We’re getting out of here.”

“What?” came Y/N’s question, loud, sharp, and clear. It resonated across the room, its intensity surprising her.

“I didn’t kill him,” Theodore admits. He’s moved now, body peering away from Y/N’s hold to better study her features. She keeps them the way they are, with no sign of the acrimony or the resentment she suspects Theodore is looking for. “But I uttered the curse. Draco countered it somehow, and it rebounded. Hit the wall instead. It cracked it, the same way I cracked every single bone in his body and watched him bleed.”

As the words fill the space between them, Y/N rushes to grab Theodore’s hands. She inspects them, surprised to find them bruising. How did I not notice this? She whimpers at her late realization—her neglect. But now that his marred skin is beneath the scrutiny of her gaze, she notices that the blue and purple hues are rather dull in comparison to his story.

Almost as if Theodore understood her silent concerns, he says, “Cruciatus.” Y/N bristles, though her body is traitorous. It jolts, feeling the residue of the invisible needles and acid-laced knives. “Sectumsempra and a number of other curses that flew out of my mouth without thought when I saw you lying on the ground, bloody, bruised, broken. Torn apart by a mediocre middle-aged man, who deserves nothing but to be decapitated, torn limb by limb, until there’s not even a speck of his ashes left on the—”

“Theo,” Y/N calls. Her voice quivers, mirroring the tremble in her body provoked by those words. “Stop.”

“I’m sorry,” Theodore sniffs, head bending down. 

Y/N rushes to answer, shaking her head violently. “No. I can’t… I can’t watch you tear yourself apart over something you had no control over.”

“I—”

“Listen to me! Listen to me and not the lies inside your head. Does it hurt? Yes. Does it burn? More than a Fienfyre cast by the Dark Lord himself. But you weren’t there—no, Theo, come back to me and stop traveling in time inside your head.”

“I’m supposed to protect you,” Theo defended. “Merlin, Y/N. I was supposed to be there! To stop all of this from happening. You’re in pain more than I am. So, stop subduing my anger!”

“I’m subduing your self-deprecation! I’m not blaming you, and I will not fan the flames of your anger. You had no way, no way, of knowing Carrow would do this.”

“I’m supposed to protect you,” he answers with a little less fight and a lot more shame. 

“And you did, Theo,” Y/N assures, bringing herself closer to his side. “You got me out. You saved me. In time.”

“Barely!” Theodore screams, a deluge of tears running down his cheeks and burying his resolve in their undertow. “But I will save you this time. I’ll get you out. Both of us. I’ll take you away, somewhere you won’t be judged for your blood or your mistake in choosing me.”

“You’re not a mistake,” Y/N refutes, begging him to see. “Look at you. You call yourself a vision of darkness when your love and care are shining through.”

“My love is darkness, viciousness, and cruelty.” It’s almost as if he’s the one begging her to understand.

Tears cascade down Y/N’s cheeks, the saltiness and bitterness of them incomparable to Theodore’s words. “Your love is fierceness,” Y/N professes, taking Theodore’s breath away, “seamlessness, and warmth.”

“I made you live through pain,” Theodore pleads, hoping she agrees. But she doesn't.

“And I will live after it. With you.”

The confession shatters the last of Theodore’s resolve. He pulls Y/N closer, resting his chin atop her head and enveloping her in a secure embrace. “I’m so sorry,” he cries. His fingers weave through her hair, gripping the back of her head, anchoring himself in her presence—convincing himself that she’s here. “You are so strong, treasure. Stronger than life and death, brighter than light, and fiercer than shadows. I love you, my Y/N. And I swear on your head and on my mother’s last breath that I will protect you even if I have to do the unforgivable. No one will ever hurt you ever again.”

“I know,” Y/N nods as Theodore kisses the crown of her head. Each breath he takes, every word he utters, stitches through her soul, mending the threads of herself. “And I love you all the more for it.”

“You’ve endured a war. I’ll be damned if I let you face another,” Theodore promises, capturing Y/N’s lips and seamlessly merging his soul with hers.

Tomorrow remains uncertain, and control extends only so far across the horizon. Yet, with Theodore by her side, Y/N finds the darkness considerably less formidable. Even if he's willing to commit the unforgivable to shield her, forgiveness is a given. His love is the tranquility that follows the tempest, and she's ready to navigate through destruction with Theodore.

I never expected to write about a topic as painful and sensitive as SA or rape.

Hearing the multiple accounts of women around me made me see how these experiences are prevalent yet scarcely communicated. When I wrote this piece, it was with no intention to diminish the seriousness of the issue but rather use this platform as a conduit to raise the matter and bring it to light. Whether you’ve been personally impacted by this disheartening situation or witnessed someone close to you go through this, I want you to know that you are not alone. You are incredibly brave for enduring this, and there is no reason to feel ashamed. You lived through it and will live after it with even more fierceness and courage than you've ever had.

If you ever feel like talking, please know that I am here to listen, without judgment or reservation. 🤍

All-Fandom Taglist: @xxrougefangxx

[daydreamsinrosie]

Competition: Draco Malfoy x HP’s sister! Reader headcanon, Part 1.

Hi everyone, I hope you enjoy this off the wall impulsive thought that I had to write out! Let me know if you would like a part 2 😊.

Themes: Harry is a distant brother, Draco bullying the reader a little, feeling isolated/unwanted, tension!!! (Not sexual).

Being the twin sister of the boy who lived doesn’t live up to the supposed title. In fact it means nothing when you were raised separately and behave simply as strangers towards each other.

Never mind being placed in a different house, finding yourself growing up in the walls of Ravenclaw tower with books and a couple of companions as friends.

However, one way you stand out is your intelligence. Smart is an understatement when you’re regularly competing for the top grades and have your praises sang by Professor McGonnagall, drawing the ire of Hermione and half of Gryffindor House.

“Exceptional. Some of you would be wise to follow Miss Y/N’s lead”. The statement wasn’t enough to hide Snape’s disdain of having to be nice for once, resulting in a small laugh from you and then you getting detention reorganising the potions stores for supposed “immaturity”.

Despite the accolades, you can say you fall under the radar and mainly prefer this. Five years in and you know your place at Hogwarts.

Draco Malfoy however, doesn’t.

Draco isn’t sure what kicked in during third year, but all of a sudden you became the subject of his greatest desire and the bane of his existence simultaneously.

Of course, he can’t admit that.

He can’t admit that the flush on your cheeks when you answer questions slightly nervously in class gives him a feeling of pride that he can’t explain.

Or that seeing you dance with a Hufflepuff keeper at the Yule Ball led him to almost throwing his drink on any Slytherin who dared tease him about it.

And he definitely can’t admit that watching you play quidditch as Ravenclaw’s star chaser heats his entire body up and he now struggles to look away from you whenever you were near each other.

So how has he gone about showing any feelings towards you all these years? Bullying, namely.

“Professor Snape! Y/N over here has brother dearest’s penchant for attention seeking, just look at what she’s tried to do with her Sleeping Draught!”

In reality, you had just followed the instructions but had attempted to also brew a remedy to repel any sluggishness from the potion.

“Five points from Ravenclaw for sheer cheek, you should know better than to think fame would work on me.”

Or the countless times he’s jinxed your legs in the hallways to where you simply cannot walk without tripping over yourself or someone else.

Or most painfully, the times he’s used Harry’s obvious disinterest in you as a talking point.

“At least brother Potter knows better than to associate with a teachers pet who eats lunch alone. You’re telling me even the ghosts don’t find you good enough company?”

You can say that you’ve been strong enough to handle most of this, but seeing a look in Harry’s eyes where he’s essentially admitting to agreeing with Malfoy was enough to bring you to tears several times.

Right now it’s the start of fifth year.

Draco’s prefect badge is glossy and reflects brightly on his green robes, and he’s ready to solidify his authority whilst waiting in the prefect’s carriage with Pansy gripping his arm for dear life.

What he doesn’t anticipate is seeing you walk through a few moments later, with a blue and bronze badge mirroring his and a small proud smile on your lips as you sit separately from the other prefects.

Truth is, it’s terrifying to be surrounded by people you know that don’t like you, but fake it till you make it right?

Not so easy to do when you get mainly the same patrolling times to Draco and he ruthlessly persues underclass men.

“Detention to you for liking the Weasley’s, and detention to you because a Hufflepuff staying in the greenhouse past curfew sounds lame.”

“Malfoy, they’re only first years.”

“Want me to give you detention for undermining your authority as prefect, Potter?”

You genuinely didn’t have a response to something so stupid, but sheer embarrassment doesn’t stop you from facing Malfoy directly and simply saying “I dare you.”

And from that evening forward, Draco does what he can to push you into confronting him as often as possible, only to turn the tables and create tension that neither of you can easily rid of.

Some evenings whilst checking classrooms, Draco has you pushed against a table wanting to see you push against him and see a familiar pink blush crawl across your cheeks.

Other evenings it’s flirting with you, only to turn it around and attempt to remind you (and possibly himself) that it means nothing and that he’d rather swallow bubotuber puss than be attracted to you.

And suddenly it’s later in term, post Ravenclaw and Slytherin match in which you contributed to the house’s 100 point lead before the snitch was caught, and now tasked with locating any rogue students switching between common rooms at late-night parties.

Despite assumptions otherwise, Ravenclaw and Slytherin students get along fairly well. Maybe a little too well because Filch and Umbridge seem to have problems with “endless snogging.”

It’s a phrase so daft it gets a laugh out of you and Draco, and suddenly he senses an opportunity.

“I wonder what they would think of the two prefects who also play quidditch snogging in the corridor.”

Thankfully you recognise it as bait.

“If only one of the prefects wasn’t an insufferable toad, that could work.”

“A Toad?”

“Worse than a ferret, I presume.”

And now you’re pushed against a wall with barely any air between you both with a glint in Draco’s eyes and his arms on either side of your head.

You’re not sure if it’s the forced proximity from being so close across this first term, but you recognise just how sharp his jaw has gotten.

And you also recognise how easily he can keep you close to him, his lips only an inch away.

Maybe having someone to snog isn’t such a bad thing really.

“I can promise you, you will regret those words.”

“Really? And how are you supposed to do that, Malfoy.”

Draco doesn’t know it’s the confidence in your voice or the look of determination, but he can’t help himself and before he can argue with himself his lips are on yours.

He’s rough, holding your face in his hands and making sure your lips follow his as you instantly melt.

Time doesn’t exist in the minutes between you two as you both focus on nothing but each other, moving your hands to feel the strength of his arms and wanting nothing more than bringing Draco closer to you.

A second passes and his lips briefly leaves yours, whispering “jump”.

You don’t need to be told twice, and now your legs are wrapped around his waist and his lips meet yours again.

Neither of you want to admit it, but you’re both dreading the moment this is going to end.

[rafesslxt]

𝐔𝐏𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘𝐒 🪻🪷 🖋️

this will be where u can see how far I am with writings and what‘s up next on my plan for Harry Potter Characters. I also have a Hayden Christensen and Rafe Cameron one

some of my story‘s that are a more of a unique idea of mine, i won‘t share so it can‘t be stolen before I post it ☁️🧸

a status like 'not started' or 'barely started' don't mean it will take long. Most of the times I write a story in one or two sessions

current nr. of drafts: 44 ⎥smut: 🌶 fluff: ☁️ funny: ☀️

updated: 22 / July / 2024

Yule Ball ⎥m. riddle⎥☁️⎥status: almost finished 「 ✦ Mattheo and Tom want to take reader to the yule ball ✦ 」

Yule Ball ⎥t. nott⎥☁️⎥status: almost finished 「 ✦ Theo goes out of his way to ask you to be his date for the yule ball ✦ 」

Brother's best friend⎥m. riddle⎥🌶☁️☀️⎥status: at the beginning 「 ✦ This is a unique idea so I won't share hehe ✦ 」

Undercover⎥m. riddle⎥🌶☁️⎥status: half finished 「 ✦ This is a unique idea so I won't share hehe ✦ 」

reading⎥m. riddle⎥☁️☀️⎥status: not started 「 ✦ Mattheo finds out what kind of books you read in your free time✦ 」

Animagus⎥m. riddle⎥☁️☀️⎥status: barely started 「 ✦ you show Mattheo your Animagus form and he freaks out a little ✦ 」

Notice me⎥m. riddle x potter!sister⎥☁️☀️🌶⎥barely started 「 ✦ Harry try's everything to stop Mattheo from getting near to you✦ 」

Dear diary⎥m. riddle⎥☁️⎥half finished 「 ✦ This is a unique idea so I won't share hehe ✦ 」

Oh, Professor⎥professor! m. riddle⎥🌶⎥barely started 「 ✦ mmh let's just say it get's interesting✦ 」

Whirlpool⎥m. riddle⎥☁️🌶⎥barely started 「 ✦ It's your birthday and you throw a party✦ 」

Friends⎥m. riddle x malfoy! reader x t.nott⎥☁️🌧⎥status: not started 「 ✦ This is a unique idea so I won't share hehe ✦ 」

secret admirer⎥m. riddle⎥☁️⎥status: barely started 「 ✦ who wrote you all those letters?✦ 」

Brat⎥m. riddle x reader x t. nott⎥🌶⎥status: almost half finished 「 ✦ threesome hehe ✦ 」

Temptation⎥m. riddle⎥🌶⎥status: barely started 「 ✦ a little spicy bet between mattheo and his girlfriend y/n ✦ 」

Haunted⎥m. riddle⎥🌶☁️⎥status: barely started 「 ✦ this was requested - mattheo, reader and friends go through a haunted house ✦ 」

NSFW Heascanons⎥t. nott⎥🌶⎥status: almost finished

Smokin'⎥m. riddle⎥🌶⎥status: not started 「 ✦ this was requested - will be posted soon ✦ 」

Greedy ⎥mattheo, enzo & theo x reader⎥🌶⎥status: almost finished 「 ✦ you and your best friend talk about the famous slytherin boys, not knowing one of them is listening and now planning with his friends to make your theirs ✦ 」

Not her⎥m. riddle⎥☁️🌧⎥status: not started

Studio⎥Slytherin Boys⎥☁️⎥status: not started

arcānum | mattheo riddle | ☁️ | status: not started 「 ✦ Mattheo becomes obsessed with reader in a portrait in the halls of hogwarts. Soon enough he runs with the time to free you from your curse ✦ 」

pool date ⎥t. nott⎥🌶⎥status: half finished

happy birthday ⎥m. riddle⎥☁️⎥not started 「 ✦ the boys planned something special for your birthday and take you on a trip to france ✦ 」

Several Parts Story's:

Showerhead 3⎥m. riddle⎥🌶☁️⎥status: barely started [I'm sorry ok 💀😭] 「 ✦ are they really just fucking? or is it more? ✦ 」 here are Part 1 and Part 2

Lustpotion 2⎥m. riddle⎥🌶⎥status: barely started 「 ✦ oh how the tables have turned when Mattheo is the one who drinks the potion y/n made this time✦ 」 If you wanna read Part 1

[ravenelyx]

I love you in every timeline - Prologue: In Search of Lost Time

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x Fem!Reader

Words: 1.9k

Chapter Warnings: angst if you squint, Harry Potter characters appearance, no name appearance (not even y/n dw), some swearing, use of 2nd person for the reader (I know I know but I promise it makes sense for the story)

Summary: "He turned around, and the world seemed to stop around him. She had followed him: into another timeline, into another universe.". In which Sebastian, in his search for a cure in the Dark Arts, finds himself 100 years into the future and meets his most trusted companion's descendant (who looks far too similar to the girl he was once secretly in love with).

A/N: this is the first english fic I've written, so I'm terrified. Anyway, Trimetravel! AU with Sebastian Sallow. Some background info: Reader is not MC; Reader is a Gryffindor, MC was a Slytherin; MC was a Pureblood, Reader is a Muggle Born. Also, english is not my first language so if you find any mistakes, I deeply apologise. Not proof-read (for obvious reasons).

→ Find the rest of the fanfiction here on AO3 :)

"For we are not as faithful to the being we have most loved as we are to ourselves and sooner or later we forget her — since that is one of our characteristics — so as to start loving another." - Marcel Proust, In Search of Lost Time

If a chasm had opened under Sebastian's feet and swallowed him all the way to the depths of hell, he would have gladly accepted his demise there and then.

Unfortunately, its mercy seemed to be out of business that day — or any other day in his life, really.

Sebastian paced the corridors, a frown adorning his face; he had just come out of the Headmaster's office due to the absolute disaster that had occurred to him just a few hours prior.

After weeks of research, he had finally found something that could help him, a breakthrough with which he could finally achieve his goal. An artefact so powerful that it could break the fabric of time and space, something that could help his poor sister live a happy and healthy life again. He did not care that they were not on speaking terms at the moment: he would find a way to talk to her so that she would take this last chance. He would force her if he had to. It was his last hope, and Merlin knows he had tried everything.

If he had known about the artefact's effects earlier, he would have thought twice before using it.

"So, Mr Sallow, could you be so kind as to tell us how you came to be in our time?" the Headmaster, who had earlier introduced himself as Albus Dumbledore, had asked him.

Truth was that not having stopped dwelling with the Dark Arts in search of a cure for Anne had led him to find himself in another timeline instead. His face twitched: in terms of unlikelihood, the scales seemed pretty unbalanced.

It had been a brief conversation, really, with Sebastian omitting some details (like his friendship with an Ancient Magic wielder or the murder of his uncle, for which he bore full responsibility) and grimacing against his own will when the Headmaster had looked at him through his half-moon shaped glasses as if asking him, 'Why are you lying to me?'

He had pushed the thoughts away as quickly as they had come: it wasn't like he could read his mind... or could he?

Sebastian breathed a sigh of relief when the Headmaster had dismissed him after giving him specific instructions on how to behave until they found a way to return him to his timeline — one of which was, "Please don't inform anyone of your condition unless it's absolutely necessary." That had seemed quite reasonable to him, so he nodded.

The artefact was damaged, as expected, and unlikely to work again unless a powerful form of magic came into contact with it and repaired it: something like Ancient Magic, perhaps, or a miracle.

"I see you're still causing trouble everywhere you fare, aren't you, Mr Sallow?" the familiar voice of Phineas Nigellus Black had mocked from his portrait, effectively startling him. Sebastian had looked up and into the eyes of his old Headmaster, his mouth falling open at the sight of him. He looked old, weary, and angrier somehow — yet, in a way, he had brought Sebastian some form of comfort, almost. A sense of familiarity.

Before he could have said anything, Black had disappeared, and a woman with severe blue eyes and long robes had escorted him out of the office.

-

Sebastian looked around at his familiar surroundings, which would have been almost comforting if not for the nameless faces looking at him with curiosity: Hogwarts students tended to recognise each other effortlessly, and anyone who didn't fit into that bundle of familiarity was to be ostracised. He remembered all too well when he was the one helping the new fifth-year find her way around those same corridors, except he didn't need guidance: this was his home, after all.

But he did have a guide, and she wasn't as charming a student as he was either.

The Head of the Gryffindor House walked right next to him, a stern expression on her face made even more prominent by the shadow of her large witch hat. The woman Sebastian had come to know as Minerva McGonagall was also the Transfiguration teacher and Deputy Headmistress, at least it seemed that way, which was no doubt why she was accompanying him rather than the Head of his own House.

Sebastian decided not to ask himself any questions and do what the Headmaster told him to: attend class, fit in, and pretend to be either a transfer student or someone with a complex background — he hadn't decided which story to tell yet (and both, in a way or another, would be true).

The clacking of Professor McGonagall's shoes stopped so abruptly that he almost would have missed it if she hadn't started speaking.

"You're about to meet two of your new classmates. Prefects of the Gryffindor House." She raised her left arm in their direction, and his eyes followed it to two red and gold robes leading into warm faces.

"I am pleased to introduce you to Ms Hermione Granger—" she gestured to the girl with curly hair to her left, who wore a friendly smile all while maintaining a serious and clean look, "—and Mr Ronald Weasley." Sebastian's eyes shot to the boy to his right when he heard the familiar name, and to be honest, he might not have needed an introduction at all: the red-haired boy gave him a wry smile, his freckles standing out even more in the natural light. He would have recognised those features anywhere.

Finally, Sebastian noticed their uniforms. He didn't pay much attention to the boy's — he himself also wore a very similar one, uncomfortable and informal as it seemed to him — for his eyes were fixed on the girl's. She was wearing a grey cardigan with red and gold trim, the colours of her House, and her skirt was much shorter than he remembered, with black denier tights covering the rest of her legs. Sebastian felt himself blushing slightly and averted his eyes.

He wondered why the Slytherin prefects were unsuited to the situation: at the end of the day, he was a Slytherin, too. Sebastian didn't undergo the Sorting again — the Professors didn't seem to deem it necessary, not to mention the Hat had recognised him from his shelf, too. He didn’t forget easily.

McGonagall turned back to Sebastian and briefly adjusted his robes, her face softening slightly, "For the time being, it is best if you don't draw attention to yourself. We will find a solution," she straightened her posture and nodded at him, "Welcome to Hogwarts." She turned on her heels and walked away, leaving him with the two Gryffindors.

He studied their faces for a moment, searching for the right words to say, deciding on which story to tell, but the only thing he could muster was: "How come you're Gryffindors?"

The two students stared at him, appalled, and he mentally slapped himself. He wanted to correct his statement and explain his intention, but the girl stopped him before he could even form a coherent thought.

"You're wondering why they asked us to guide you and not the Slytherin Prefects, am I right?"

Either his question wasn't that unclear, or the girl had excellent deduction skills, and judging by the epiphany on the other boy's face when he understood the meaning of her words, it was most likely the latter.

Sebastian sighed inwardly and nodded, mentally promising not to stumble over his words again.

The boy — Ronald, Sebastian recalled — chimed in: "Because otherwise you'd have to deal with Malfoy, and he's an idio—" the girl slapped him on the arm and gave him a warning look before turning back to Sebastian.

Malfoy, Sebastian thought. A family of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. It was clear why a Weasley would want nothing to do with him.

Sebastian wondered if they still held the same values as in his day: if the Malfoys were still blood maniacs, and so was the person they spoke of, or if he wanted to distance himself from his family as Ominis did. Judging by Ronald's opinion of him, Sebastian did not think that was possible, but then again, he did not know the fellow. Maybe, Sebastian thought, things had moved on after a century: no blood wars, discrimination or superiority complexes. Perhaps this was all just a simple rivalry between two students from different Houses.

"Professor Dumbledore thought us to be best suited for this difficult situation. No other student but us knows about your... misadventure," said Hermione.

To call it a "misadventure" would be an understatement , Sebastian wanted to say. As it turned out, however, he didn't need a story to tell. He didn't know whether to feel betrayed by the Professors who had decided to disclose that information or relieved that he didn't have to go through it all alone. A beat of silence followed, in which Sebastian could only nod at the girl's words, and then it was interrupted abruptly.

"Where have you been?" called a voice from the end of the corridor, directly behind Sebastian.

He turned around, and the world seemed to stop around him.

He definitely didn't have to go through it all alone because there she was. Standing a few feet away from him, looking straight at him, was the person who had accompanied him on all his adventures.

She had followed him: into another timeline, into another universe.

He felt his lips twist into a grin, and he beamed at the sight of her. Had she been looking for him?

He frowned a little as he noticed her expression: she seemed annoyed, almost angry. Perhaps she had no intention of following him and had just ended up here for no reason? Were the two of them connected on a deeper level than he thought? Or perhaps she was just worried for him and angry he didn't look for her too?

The girl started to walk towards them, and his smile widened even more the closer she got.

She was almost there when he realised she wasn't sparing him a glance.

Instead, her eyes were focused on the red-haired boy next to him, who was staring at her in horror, looking completely terrified.

Sebastian looked back at the girl, finally noticing the red and gold tie around her neck where a green and silver one usually belonged, a crease in her eyebrows that wasn't there before, and her eyes were a different colour than he remembered.

What the hell is going on here?  he thought, staring at her wide-eyed.

"Ron, for God's sake, I've been looking all over for you! Do you intend to give me back my book before class starts, or should I pull a new one out of a hat because you can't use your own?" she threw her hands in the air disapprovingly.

Ron stuttered briefly before hesitantly pointing at the Slytherin boy next to him, "I've just had too much to do. Prefect stuff, you know."

The girl scowled at him before turning to the said boy, her eyes softening slightly. "Oh! You're the new fifth-year!"

Sebastian's eye twitched. How bloody ironic.

"I'm Sebastian Sallow," he replied feebly, body stock-still like marble.

"Nice to meet you," she smiled politely.

And then she introduced herself.

His breath caught in his throat. Sebastian could have recognised that surname anywhere, but her name fell completely deaf on his ears.

You weren't her.

--

→ Chapter 1

[fanfics4all]

Pure-Blood Potter: Chapter 21

Request: Yes / No  This was requested by @loxbbg​

Requests are closed <3 Have a nice day/night

Draco Malfoy x Fem!Potter!Reader (Eventually)

James Potter x OC Arabella Renaud

Harry Potter x Half-sister!Reader

Word count: 3105

Warnings: Mentions of depression

Y/N: Your Name 

Y/N/N: Your Nickname

PLEASE DO NOT STEAL MY WORK, I WORK HARD ON MY FICS AND IT’S NOT COOL TO STEAL SOMEONE ELSE’S WORK! 

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(Not my photo, credit to whoever made it!)

I walked into Defence Against the Dark Arts and all the desks were gone. Everyone’s things were off to the side and they were standing around. There was a large wardrobe towards the front of the classroom and I was confused. 

“Y/N!” I looked over and saw Harry waving me over to him and Ron. I walked over and smiled at the two. 

“Are you alright?” Harry asked and I nodded. 

“I’m fine.” I said and the two didn’t look convinced. 

“So, do you know what we’re learning today?” I asked, quickly changing the subject. 

“No idea, but could be anything in this bloody class.” Ron said and I giggled slightly. The cabinet started shaking and everyone went quiet. We all looked at the wardrobe, some whispered wondering what could be inside. 

“Intriguing, isn’t it?” Professor Lupin said from behind us. 

“Would anyone like to venture a guess as to what is inside?” He asked as he made his way to the front. 

“That’s a boggart, that is.” Dean answered. 

“Very good, Mr. Thomas.” He said and my eyes went sightly wide. The wardrobe shook again and a few of us jumped slightly. 

“Now, can anybody tell me what a boggart looks like?” Professor Lupin asked. 

“No one knows.” Hermione said and we looked at her confused. She most definitely wasn’t next to us before. 

“When’d she get here?” Ron asked. 

“Boggarts are shape-shifters They take the shape of whatever a particular person fears the most. That’s what makes them so…” 

“So terrifying. Yes. Yes, yes, yes.” Professor Lupin finished her sentence. The cabinet continued to shake as he made his way next to it. 

“Luckily, a very simple charm exists to repel a boggart.” He continued and the shaking got a bit more intense. I jumped back slightly and Harry placed his hand on my arm. I gave him a small smile, which he returned. 

“Let’s practice it now. Uh, without wands, please.” Professor Lupin said. 

“After me, Riddikulus!” He said. 

“Riddikulus!” We all repeated. 

“Very good. A little louder and very clear. Listen, Riddukulus!” Professor Lupin pronounced the spell clearer and louder. 

“Riddikulus!” We all said louder than before. 

“This class is ridiculous.” I heard Draco mutter. I looked over at him and he sent me a small smile. I smiled back at him and noticed Pasny wasn’t standing next to him like she usually would. 

“Very good! Well, so much for the easy part.” Professor Lupin said and I turned back to face him. 

“You see, the incantion alone is not enough. What really finished a boggart is… laughter. You need to force it to assume a shape you find truly amusing. Let me explain. Uh, Neville.” He picked out. 

“Will you join me, please?” He asked. The wardrobe shook again and Neville looked truely scared. 

“Come on. Don’t be shy. Come on. Come on.” Professor Lupin gently coaxed him to the front of the group. 

“Hello. Neville, what frightens you most of all?” He asked the boy gently. Neville mumbled his answer under his breath, poor boy probably doesn’t want to get made fun of. 

“Sorry?” Professor Lupin asked. 

“Professor Snape.” Neville answered louder and clearer this time. Some students started to laugh and I rolled my eyes at them. 

“Professor Snape? Yes…” Professor Lupin also chuckled slightly. 

“Frightens all. And I believe you live with your grandmother.” He said. 

“Y-Yes, but I don’t want that boggart to turn into her either.” Neville answered and the students laughed again. 

“No.” Professor Lupin shook his head and looked back at the shaking wardrobe. 

“It won’t.” He added. 

“I want you to picture her clothes- only her clothes- very clearly, in your mind.” He said. 

“She carries a red handbag.” Neville started, but the professor shook his head. 

“We don’t need to hear. As long as you see it, we’ll see it. Now, when I open that wardrobe, here’s what I want you to do. Excuse me.” Professor Lupin said and walked night next to Neville. He whispered something in his ear and Neville looked at him in shock. 

“Can you do that?” Professor Lupin asked. The cabinet shook again and the Professor started taking out his wand. 

“Yes. Wand at the ready.” He said and Neville held his up. 

“One… two… three.” He said and unlocked the wardrobe. The door creecked open and Professor Snape walked out, looking as angry as ever. 

“Think, Neville, think.” Professor Lupin encouraged. The door shut behind the creature and he was standing in front of Neville. 

“Riddikulus!” Neville shouted and pointed his wand at the fake Professor Snape. He quickly was put in some old woman clothes that looked ridiculous. Everyone, including Professor Lupin started laughing at the boggart. 

“Wonderful, Neville! Wonderful! Incredible. Okay. To the back Neville. Everyone form a line!” Professor Lupin said. Everyone quickly started getting into a line and pushed and shoved each other. 

“Form a line! I want everyone to picture the thing they fear the very most and turn it into something… funny.” He said as he put on some music. 

“Next! Ron!” He said and Ron stepped up. 

“Concintrate. Face your fear. Be brave!” Professor Lupin said. Ron’s boggart turned into a giant spider. Ron whimpered and he pulled out his wand. 

“Come on, wand at the ready, Ron. Wand at the ready.” Professor Lupin said. He finally pulled it out of his robe and pointed it at the boggart. 

“Riddikulus!” He said and the spider was now wearing rollerskates. Everyone started to laugh as the spider struggled at stand up. 

“Yes! You see? Very good! Very good! Marvelous! Absolutely very, very enjoyable. Parvati! Next! Parvati.” Professor Lupin said as he laughed along with us. 

Parvati’s fear was a giant snake. She turned her boggart into a jack-in-the-box, which was quite funny looking. I was up next and I took a deep breath. I knew what my fear was and I really didn’t want to face it. I didn’t want anyone to see it. I didn’t want Harry to see it. I stepped up to the jack-in-the-box and watched it turn into my Father. Everyone was deadly silent as he took a step closer to me. 

“Why would I ever love you when you were just to get my parents off my back? You were only born to restore your Mother’s statue. I left to the family I truely loved, Harry will always mean more to me than you. A muggle-born will always mean more to me than you. You are nothing to me. Just a means to an end.” The boggart hissed at me. I felt tears well in my eyes and I didn’t even try to hold them back. Hearing my Father, my true Father say such things to me when I never really knew him broke my heart. I felt small and worthless. I felt someone pull me back slightly and looked up to see Harry now stood in front of me. The boggart quickly turned into a dementor and Harry stood just as frozen as I was. It was coming closer to the both of us and Professor Lupin quickly slid in front of Harry. 

“Here!” He shouted. His boggart turned into the full moon behind some clouds. 

“Riddikulus!” He said and the moon turned into a balloon. He opened the wardrobe and the boggart was now locked behind the door once again. 

“Right, well, sorry about that. Uh, that’s enough for today.” He said, Harry and I were both still frozen in place. I still had tears running down my face and I felt awful. 

“If you’d all like to collect your books from the back of the class, that’s the end of the lesson. Thank you.” He said and the students groaned, but gathered their things anyway. 

“Sorry, sorry, go on. You can have too much of a good thing.” He said. Once most of the students were already out of the classroom I snapped out of my frozen state. I quickly gathered my things and tried to wipe the tears that were still falling. 

“Love, are you alright?” Draco asked, gently grabbing my arm. I hid my face behind my hair and nodded. 

“F-Fine, Draco…” I whispered. Draco grabbed my chin and forced me to look at him. He looked so worried and gently wiped a tear that was near his thumb. 

“Talk to me, love.” He whispered and I pulled away. 

“I-I said I was f-fine…” I sniffled.

“Miss. Potter, would you mind joining me in my office?” Professor Lupin asked, before Draco could say anything. I looked up and him and nodded. 

“Meet me in the common room as soon as you’re finished with him.” Draco said, making me look at him again. I could tell he wouldn’t take no for an answer and I smiled slightly, he was acting like my Draco again. 

“O-Okay…” I whispered. He sighed and gently kissed my forehead. I blushed slightly and followed Professor Lupin into his office. 

“Would you like a cup of tea?” He asked as he motioned for me to take a seat. I gave a small nod and he smiled at me. He silently made us each a up and took a seat behind his desk. 

“I’m not sure if your Mother told you about me and your Father, but-” 

“You were friends with my Father. You, Black, which I’m guessing is Sirius Black, Pettigrew, and my Father always got into trouble.” I said and he nodded with a small smile. 

“Mother said you were the most responsible one.” I said and he laughed. 

“That’s true, James, and Sirius specifically were always getting into trouble. They loved playing tricks on people and I tried to keep them in line, but I partaked as well.” He said with a fond smile. He gently shook his head and lent forward on his desk. 

“I’d like you to know that your Father would never say anything the boggart said to you.” I said and I felt a tear escape my left eye. 

“Y/N, when your Father told us that Arabella was pregnate with you, he was so happy and excited. We were all equally happy for him, but then he told us that he’d never be able to see you. I’ve never seen James so heartbroken in his life.” He said and I nodded. 

“I know… Mother gave me the letter he wrote…” I whispered. 

“Then you must know that James would absolutely never say any of those things to you. He loved you more than you could possibly know and he very much wanted to meet you.” Professor Lupin said and gently placed his hand over mine. 

“He said that in the letter…” I said and let the tears fall. 

“James wanted to be apart of your life so badly, Y/N. Lilly was hoping that Arabella would give in a let him see you. Your Mother was trying to protect you.” He said and I looked into Professor Lupin’s eyes. 

“Did he truely want to see me?” I asked, my voice quiet because I felt like I was about to break. 

“I promise you, he wanted to see you more than anything.” He answered and I smiled a bit. 

“Thank you, Professor.” I said and wiped my tears away. 

“Of course, my dear. My door is always open if you need to talk.” He said and I smiled a bit brighter. 

“D-Do you think you could tell me about my Father one day?” I asked and he smiled at me. 

“I would love to, dear.” He said and I smiled brightly. 

“Really? Mother’s told me some things, but I knew they weren’t friends in school.” I said and he chuckled. 

“Oh no, but James never really bothered her, Sirius on the other hand…” He laughed and shook his head. 

“How can you talk so fondly about a man that escaped Azkaban?” I asked, confused. 

“It’s a long story, that I’m sure you’ll find out about at a later date.” He said with a sigh and stood up. 

“Right, well I have another class in a few and I’m sure you have classes you need to get to.” He said with a smile. I nodded and stood up. He opened the door for me and I smiled at him. 

“Thank you again, Professor, I needed to hear that.” I said and he smiled fondly at me. 

“No need to thank me, Y/N.” He said and I left his office. 

I held my books to my chest and smiled slightly to myself. Professor Lupin really did know how to make me feel better, unless he put something in that tea, but I doubt he’d do that. I can see why my Father was friends with him. I walked through the halls and down to the dungeons. I felt my stomach tighten slightly as I made it closer to the Slytherin common room. They all saw me crying. They all heard what the boggart said to me… I quickly dropped my head and hopped that they weren’t just sitting around the common room. I mumbled the password and the wall opened up. I made my way into the room and saw them all sitting around. Draco and Pansy were sitting next to each other, Blaise was sitting on one of the lone chairs, Vincent and Gregory were sitting on the couch opposite Draco and Pansy. Of course they were all sitting there waiting… I quickly looked down and tried to make my way to the girl’s dorms without being noticed. 

“Y/N! Come hang out with us.” Pansy called and I froze in place. 

“Actually I have a lot of studying to do and I’m feeling a bit tired… I’m just gonna go up to the dorm.” I said with a small smile. I turned to go towards the stairs again, but Pansy made her way quickly in front of me. 

“You’ve hardly hung out with us anymore.” She said with her arms crossed and a frown. 

“I’ve just been busy with classes.” I lied. Pansy narrowed her eyes and pointed at me. 

“But you have time to hang out with those bloody Gryffindors and that stupid Hufflepuff of yours?” She asked as she poked my chest. 

“Pansy, lay off.” Blaise said. 

“Why are you always coming to her rescue? She’s been ignoring us!” Pansy said, glaring at Blaise. 

“I’m not rescuing her.” Blaise rolled his eyes. 

“Maybe she’s ignoring us because you and Malfoy are ignoring her.” Gregory said and Pansy turned her glare to him. 

“Excuse me? Draco and I aren’t ignoring her, she’s ignoring us!” Pansy hissed. 

“You two are too obsessed with each other to even notice she’s hurting.” Blaise said and my eyes widened. 

“Hurting? I know when she’s hurting.” Draco growled at him. 

“Oh really? Is that why you ignored her all through her birthday party and didn’t notice that her little Hufflepuff broke up with her that night?” Blaise asked with a raise of his brow. “Blaise!” I hissed. Draco’s head shot over to me and I quickly looked down. I felt the tears returning and I really didn’t want to be here anymore… I heard footsteps coming closer and they lifted my head up to face them. Draco looked at me, searching my eyes to see if Blaise was telling the truth or not. 

“Is it true?” He whispered. 

“Draco…” I whispered and let a tear fall. 

“Did that bloody idiot break up with you on your birthday?” He asked with a growl. 

“Yes…” I answered quietly. I saw Draco tense and he grabbed my hand. He pulled me with him to his dorm room and shut the door. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked, not facing me. 

“I-I wanted to…” I answered. 

“Then why didn’t you!? I’m you’re best friend, Y/N! Why the hell didn’t you tell me?” He shouted and I looked at him with wide eyes. He looked angry, upset, and hurt all at once. 

“Beacuse you were with your new bloody girlfriend! You and Pansy have been all over each other since my birthday! I was so excited to spend time with you at my party, but you were all over her! I came back in after he broke up with me and you were with her! Blaise was there and he’s the one that made my birthday better. He’s the one that helped me forget about it for the night. All because my blood best friend was busy with his new girlfriend!” I shouted at him and he looked at me with wide eyes. The two of us were quiet and I turned around, I couldn’t look at him right now. I heard Draco walk closer to me and gently placed a hand on my shoulder. He turned me to look at him and he looked so sad and guilty. He gently wiped away my tears. 

“Pansy and I aren’t dating.” He said and I furrowed my brows at him. 

“W-What?” I asked. 

“It was her stupid idea and I was an idiot to think it would work.” He said and I was even more confused. 

“What are you talking about?” I asked. Draco sighed and caressed my cheek. 

“Pansy said if we pretended to date then you would get jealous and you’d break up with that stupid Hufflepuff.” He answered and my eyes widened slightly. 

“W-Why would you want me to be jealous?” I whispered. 

“Because I was losing you to those stupid Gryffindores and that bloody Hufflepuff, and I… I wanted my Y/N back.” He said, slightly hesitant. 

“I felt like I was losing you, Dray…” I said, choosing to ignore his hesitation for now. 

“I’m so sorry, love. I should have been there for you…” He said, resting his forehead on mine. I hugged him tightly and took a deep breath. His smell is still so comforting to me. 

“Please come back to me, love.” He whispered. 

“You’ve always had me, Dray…” I whispered back. Draco clung to me tightly. We stayed like that for a moment before moving to lay on his bed. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asked and I shook my head. 

“I’m bloody exhausted, Dray, can we just lay here, please?” I asked and he smiled. 

“Of course, love, whatever you want.” He said and kissed my forehead. I smiled and snuggled into him. This is just what I needed. I felt my eyes slowly start to close and felt the most relaxed I’ve felt in months. I guess I just needed my Draco back.

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[ourloveisforthelovely]

Running from the Daylight (oneshot)

Regulus Black AU

Request: @iluvthe-marauders HI LOVELYYY, HAVENT HAD TUMBLR IN AGESSSSS. Dont know if you remember but i was the one who asked for different harry potter characters and wanted to ask if you'd do a regulus oneshot. where y/n is a halfblood (Remus’ sister) and they run away together?

Pairings: Regulus Black x Reader

Rating: T

Song in Chapter: Running from the Daylight by Concrete Castles

____

Now it's do or die, runnin' from the daylight. Have we had enough? What have we become? Nowhere left to hide. Runnin' from the daylight…Runnin' from the daylight

You stood in the mid-morning sun at the farmer’s marker simply enjoying the spring day. Winter had been hard. It was too long and cold with too many losses for your side. Now the promise of a “fresh” spring brought you fresh hope that The Order would somehow have a lot more “wins.”

“Y/n, what do you think of this?”

Your thoughts were interrupted by Sirius’ happy giggling. Turning, you met your best friend’s gaze as he held up what looked like a stuffed cat in a dress. Raising an eyebrow, you shook your head with an annoyed chuckle. It didn’t matter what was going on in the world…Sirius knew how to make you laugh.

“I’ll miss him.”

The thought hit you like a hex to the stomach. You forced a smile so Sirius wouldn’t suspect anything was up. You took a deep breath Sirius occupied himself with bothering Remus. Staring at your older your heart ached a little more.

He will be fine. Sirius will look after him.

It was only a few short hours before your life changed forever. You had made plans to run away with Regulus. The two of you would run away from everything and start a new life. A new life together…just the two of you in some quaint little country cottage where all of the horrors of “the real world” would forever evaporate. It would be just Regulus and yourself, living the life of a happy couple.

Regulus

Your heart smiled thinking about your “secret” boyfriend. For two years, you had been dating Regulus in private. Secret dating was what it had to be. You were a half-blood and that would never be good enough for the Blacks. Walburga would have a massive fit if she found out that her baby boy was dating a half-blood. Never, in any universe, would you be good enough for Regulus (in his parent's eyes.). If they knew about Remus’ “furry little problem” the “you’re not good enough” view would only be magnified.

If they only knew that I saved him. I am the one who put the light back behind his eyes.

You thought with a smile. If it hadn’t been for you Regulus would have put a fork in a toaster. He told you this himself one night after making love. That conversation itself was one that made you want to get Regulus away even more. You wanted to make sure that another cold frown would never pass over his gorgeous face again.

We will be a cute little married couple. We can get a cat and do all of the mundane things that we never thought would happen.

You smiled at the thought. For the first time in your life, you weren’t craving action or adventure. Instead, you were craving the normally boring slow life that your parents had.

When you had brought up the idea of running away, Regulus had been all for it. He was ready to walk away from the Death Eaters and Lord Voledmort. Regulus no longer cared about his family’s name. Being a member of the House of Black no longer had the “ring” to it that it once did. Regulus was, instead, ready to have that normal boring life where the two of you were just people….just people. It wouldn't matter that he was a pure-blood or you were a half-blood. Instead, Regulus would be the husband who would bring in the newspaper in the mornings while you made coffee.

“I wonder what they are doing at the lowly farmer’s market?”

Remus’ voice pulled you from your thoughts. Looking up, you froze seeing Regulus and Walburga across the next aisle.

“Mum probably got word that she can find weird shit to feel her house with. I should take her that cat.”

Sirius added as your eyes met Regulus’. He gave you a slight smile as your hand reached up to touch the emerald necklace that he had given you.

“Forget the cat, Sirius. The woman is bad news.”

Remus added, nervously. He didn’t have any love lost for Walburga. In fact, Remus was banking on the old bitch dying sooner rather than later. After Walburga nearly killed Sirius, Remus had no use for her. Remus was ready to kick in the door to Grimmauld Place and off the lot of the monsters within.

“Reggie is looking good though.”

Sirius commented sadly. The tone in Siruis’ voice told you everything that you already knew. Sirius missed Regulus.

“He will be fine. He’s a smart boy. I’m sure that he will see the things that you saw eventually.”

You commented, hoping to bring Sirius some comfort. You were the one that Sirius told his worries about Regulus too.

“I’m afraid he will end up like the lot of them. I don’t want to see the boy that I know become a monster.”

Those words replayed in your head over and over as you looked at Regulus again. You wished nothing more than to be able to tell Sirius that you were going to save Regulus. It would be you that took him away and Sirius would have nothing to worry about. Maybe in time, you could invite Sirius and Remus to your new home. You could show them that they had nothing to worry about.

“Yes, he does. Sirius, it will be fine. Regulus is a smart boy.”

Sirius sighed and wrapped an arm around your waist.

“Yes, he is. One can only hope that he will see reason. Come on, let's get back to the house and fix that soup.”

The rest of the afternoon and evening passed slowly. At 10 pm you were due to meet Regulus at the train station. The two of you would take the last night train to your predetermined destination. All that you had to do was wait for Sirius and Remus to act like the little old couple and go to bed.

Around 7 pm, Sirius stretched and stood up. He gave you a smile before looking at his lover.

“There is a new movie playing down at the muggle Cinema. How about we go catch a movie? James and Lily are up for it?”

Remus nodded in agreement. He was all up for an evening out. Most nights were busy with order stuff. The thought of “getting out of the house” acting as if things were normal sounded absolutely amazing.

“Great idea. Y/n, are you coming?”

You shook your head.

“As much as I would love to, I have a bit of a headache and want to call it an early night. Tell James and Lily that I love them.”

Remus slowly got up to find his abandoned jumper. Your comment didn’t raise any red flags for him.

“We will. Would you like us to bring you anything home?”

You shook your head before standing up.

“No, I’m fine. Thank you though.”

You went to Remus and wrapped your arms around him. The realization that this would be the last hug that you gave your brother for some time hit hard. Remus seemed a little surprised at first but hugged you back.

“That’s a nice hug. I’m only going to the movies.”

He commented as you went to Sirius and did the same thing. Sirius, meanwhile, hugged you back just as dramatically.

“I know but I made a goal to never let either of you leave without hugging you. Both of you know how crazy the times are and what if something happens and I don’t hug you before you go?”

Remus gave you that comforting older brother expression as Sirius hugged you again.

“Y/n, everything will be okay. I know it doesn’t feel that way now but in time everything will be fine.”

You nodded as Sirius sauntered off to pull on his leather jacket.

“Remus is right, love. It won’t be long until we grill old lord Voldy’s head or shove it on a stick. We will look back on all of this and laugh.”

Sirius and Remus had been gone for half an hour when there was a quiet knock on the door. You stood up and opened it, relieved to see Regulus on the other side.

“Love.”

You said softly before wrapping your arms around his shoulders. Regulus carefully walked the two of you into the house..

“Are dumb and dumber gone?”

You nodded.

“They went to a movie. What are you doing here early? Not that I’m not super happy to see you…I have been thinking about you since this morning.”

Regulus gently shoved you against the door before pressing himself against you. You sighed happily as he tilted your head to the side and began peppering your neck with kisses.

“Have you now? What a coincidence because I have been thinking about you nonstop. Your pretty face is always on my mind. I couldn’t wait to get my arms around you. Seeing you at that market and not being able to get to you…”

You placed a hand on his mouth.

“If your bitchy mother wasn’t there and I wouldn’t have to mop the floor with her face I would have snogged you right there on the spot.”

Regulus chuckled. He had grown used to your “I’m going to snog you in any place that I want” comments.

“She would have died with a heart attack…not that I would be complaining.”

Regulus murmured before glancing over his shoulder. Even though you said that Remus and Sirius were gone, Regulus still felt the need to check. The last thing that he wanted was for either man to catch the two of you snogging by the door. If they walked in and heard everything, it would ruin the plan of running away.

Regulus had worked too hard to have his plan ruined now. Over the past few weeks, he had been securing the two of you a safe life in a little Swiss village far away from the wizarding world both of you knew. Regulus had been in contact with his uncle Alphard Black and discussed an escape plan.

Alphard offered his summer home in Switzerland as a home for the two of you while Regulus (little by little) emptied his Gringotts bank. Regulus wanted to make damn sure that the two of you would never want for anything. Would both of you be gone from England forever? Regulus didn’t know. For now, however, Regulus had to plan as if returning home would never happen.

“Are you ready to go?”

Regulus asked, pulling himself from his thoughts. You nodded and picked up a small bag. Regulus raised an eyebrow.

“One bag?”

You shook your head.

“No, I used an extension charm. I have everything that we could need in here.”

Regulus smirked.

“Why am I not surprised? Are you still wanting to go? I know how close you are to your brother and my brother…”

You pressed your lips to Regulus’ again.

“Of course, I want to go. I left Remus and Sirius a letter. I’m sure they will be upset but in time, they will understand. I want nothing more than to share a life with the man that I love.”

A small smile played at Regulus’ lips as he reached for your coat.

“You always know what to say. Now let's get out of here before we start fucking on the couch.”

You slipped on your coat and picked up the small bag. Looking around the house, you took a moment to be thankful for your friends and family. You had never been much of the praying type but for once you prayed that sooner or later fate would bring all of you back together. Maybe in time, your friends would understand why you were taking this action and would forgive you.

It's the things that we do for love…

_____

@geeksareunique @jessyballet @knreidy1 @fific7 @dumbbunnys-safes @siriuslyceleste @ad-astra-again @justfinishthis @mimisparkle12 @teletubiswszpilkach @spideyxalmighty @lucasfilms77 @rubyroscoe1 @readtomeregulus @regulusblackswhorecrux @i-love-scott-mccall @taylor-will-be-the-death-of-me @s-we-e-t-t-ea @woohoney @abaker74 @regulus-black-223048 @saramaple @missgorldafirst @millies0bsimp @stelleduarte @dumybitch @gugggu6gvai @jag9000 @bennyberry @f4iryluvy @panpride @haroldpotterson @mentally-unstable-hoe @goldensunshineshit @padf00ts-l0ver @marichromatic @ravenhood2792 @playmore-zeppelin @authoressskr @emiwrites3reads @rogue-nyx88 @coffeeaddictednymph @knight-of-gleefulness @shaylybaby2032 @livshifts @ell0ra-br3kk3r

[allthesmutl0vers]

SmutL0ver's Masterlist Full Stories and One-Shots

Requests: OPEN (Please read the requirements before sending one.)

Asks: OPEN (No requirements. Ask me anything! Always open even if requests are closed.)

Harry Potter Universe Tag-List: Comment (here) always open.

Welcome to the Masterlist for all of my stories. 🫶Please keep the following in mind when you read:

+ My stories are a safe space for everyone, and everyone is welcome. + No hate or bullying of any kind will be tolerated. Those caught will be blocked and banned from my stories. + Don't yuck someone else's yum. In other words, if you don't like something, that's okay, but don't shame someone for liking it. + Read. The. Trigger. Warnings. The trigger warnings contain any and all triggering content within the story. There will be a brief description of the warnings within a chapter/post, but it is brief.

All that being said, thank you for reading, and welcome home. Click below for Full Stories and Requests/Headcanons/One-Shots💗

Supernatural Full Stories:

Intentions (No Wincest-Destiel- Sam x Reader x Dean x Castiel) -Complete

Break Me (Coming Soon) (No Wincest-Destiel- Sam x Reader x Dean x Castiel) Read on Ao3

Entirely Forbidden and Completely Fucked (Wincest+Half Sister) -Ongoing/On Hiatus

The Fate Of Us (Wincest-Destiel-Samstiel- Sam x Reader x Dean x Castiel) - Ongoing/Semi-On Hiatus

Harry Potter Full Stories

Managing Mischief (Pseudo twincest/No Sword Crossing- Fred and George Weasley x Reader -Ongoing

The Weight of Blood (Tom Riddle/Theo Nott/Draco Malfoy/Regulus Black/Fem!Reader) -Ongoing

His Patronus (Coming Soon) (Harry Potter x Reader)

One-Shots/Requests:

Supernatural

Sam/F!Reader/Dean (Wincest)

Harry Potter

George Weasley/Muggle!F!Reader (Fluff)

Spicy Harry Potter Headcanons (Harry, Fred, George, Ron, Draco)

Fred Weasley/F!Reader (Smut)

Draco Malfoy/F!Reader (Smut/Angst/Ends with fluff)

Draco Malfoy/Sick!F!Reader (Fluff)

Dating Fred and George Weasley Headcanons (Smut/Little Fluff)

[dracowars]

More dad!draco x mum!reader please I’m so in love with theses two. Just fluff it’s so good

draco malfoy as a father

pairing: dad!draco x mum!reader

a/n: i turned this request into my first ever headcanon!! feedback is always appreciated <3

warnings: mentions of pregnancy, mentions of birth

universe: harry potter

Draco Malfoy is literally the best dad that the world has ever seen

He's always dreamed of starting a family and was even happier that he could fulfill this lifelong dream with none other than you

When you first told him that you're pregnant, he couldn't even believe his ears

And when you showed him the positive test, he couldn't believe his eyes either

Draco was certain that that was the best and happiest moment of his life

(Well, minus your wedding day)

Once the small baby, that resembles his own facial features and hair color, was in his arms, he started crying

He couldn't believe that this small (wizard) being was what you both created

Draco swore to himself on that day he would always protect you and his son, no matter what

And love you unconditionally until the very end

He didn't lie

In the first weeks after Scorpius was born, Draco did everything in his might to help you take care of your newborn

From changing diapers to feeding, Draco did all of it so you were able to relax

In the end, he was better than you in changing diapers

Kind of turned into a contest between the two of you of who could change them faster

Unfortunately, you had to accept that your husband was the winner

Speaking of winning, once Scorpius was older and understood that he could do things that other children couldn't, no day passed without him dueling his father

In that case, however, Draco let his son win

The cheeky smile on Scorpius' lips when he came running towards you after winning was priceless

Nowadays, Scorpius can't stop rambling about finally leaving for Hogwarts next year, talking your ears off at every opportunity

This is kind of your husband's fault who wouldn't stop telling his children about all his adventures when he was their age

Oh, did I say children?

You welcomed your daughter into the family too, only a few years after being blessed with Scorpius

Draco turned into an even better father to both your children, always making sure that they were doing fine and supporting them in everything they did

Since he himself didn't experience the best childhood regarding parental (fatherly) love, he wanted to be the best dad ever and do so much better than his own father

He definitely succeeded

You couldn't have asked for a better father to your two kids

You're obsessed with how he takes care of them, and they are as obsessed with him as you

Can't sleep? Draco tells them stories and lets them sleep in your bed

Have a bad day? Draco is there to cheer them up

From the outside it might not seem so, but he can actually be quite strict as well

Once Scorpius destroyed his sister's toy in a crying fit and Draco had to separate them

Then, he took Scorpius to the side and intently talked to him for half an hour

After being reprimanded, Scorpius apologized to his sister and everything was well at last

All in all, you're terribly in love with your little family

And, once again, Draco is the best dad ever, period

[weasleycream]

May I request Harry Potter x aunt reader

Y/N is James' sister and Severus' best friend. This sparks a fight between the siblings and they lose touch. Y/N marries Severus and becomes an auror with a reputation as a fierce hunter of Death Eaters. After a successful career that has brought her many scars and fame, she returns to Hogwarts as a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Harry doesn't know he has an aunt, and Ron is curious why the teacher, who is nicknamed "Snape in a Skirt," is so nice to Harry. Voldemort then reveals to Harry that Y/N is his aunt and that he wants to kill her because she only causes him trouble

 ˃̵ᴗ˂̵     !! ( uyeueujg my first order 😭💗 ) Of course! I like the idea of ​​James having a sister who marries Severus in the future, it sounds pretty interesting🤔. I will do my best to develop your idea to the letter, thank you very much for your request! I hope you like it <3.

ㅤㅤ୭.ᰍㅤ𝅄  ֹ    " 𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐮𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐒𝐤𝐢𝐫𝐭 "  🪽    Ⳋ

ઈઉ ݁  ㅤִㅤ𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐬 ; 𝐒everus 𝐒nape x 𝐅em!𝐀unt!𝐑eader

ઈઉ ݁  ㅤִㅤ𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ; Use of bad words, mentions of death/blood/scars, family fights (between siblings), Bad grammar in English.

ઈઉ ݁  ㅤִㅤIn this OS Gilderoy Lockhart resigns as soon as the petrifications begin to occur

ઈઉ ݁  ㅤִㅤ𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞 ; The Philosopher's Stone, The Chamber of Secrets

ઈઉ ݁  ㅤִㅤ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 ; 3.2k+ (I still see it as too short, help💔)

ઈઉ ݁  ㅤִㅤ𝗨𝗻𝗰𝗼𝗿𝗿𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗱.

Maybe for her brother being with someone like Severus Snape was something to consider himself a "traitor" and even more so since she was his little protégé and little twin sister. It was frustrating for him to see how the other half of him was best friends with his biggest enemy, to see how those two were inseparable.

It would not be a surprise to many, even James and his band of friends, to know that Severus no longer had eyes for Lily Evans (which James is partly grateful for) and now those looks of excitement and excitement are directed towards his sister Y/N Potter. Which sparked a loud dispute with The Marauders and Snape in the background, allowing them to hear all the twins' commotion.

"Merlin, James! Stop bothering me! Just because you're my brother and you ask me to end my friendship with him, I'm not going to do it, you understand!? I'm already tired of you interfering in my relationships just because you don't like them for nothing!" The feminine screams at her brother, who was in front of her red with rage and fury that had accumulated for a long time. “Accept it, James, Sev and I are never going to separate no matter how much you want us to, much less without one good reason."

"Do you want a reason? Fine! It's simple, I don't want you to be the same as that first-class idiot, who only knows how to follow Lily like her dog, it's not good for you to be with people like him"He snapped with anger in his voice as he looked into his sister's insistent eyes, clenching his fists at his sides causing his knuckles to quickly lose color and turn white.

Y/N, full of annoyance and disbelief, spoke: "That's the stupidest thing you've ever said in your life, James. I'm not going to separate from Sev because of that stupidity, he suits me, and much more than you if you ask me! He is "Much better than you in several ways! I like him! And I'm not going to allow you to keep giving me stupid numbers just because you don't like him!"

Severus, who was witnessing the arduous scene, froze in place upon hearing his friend's words. Apparently every attempt to eliminate every feeling he had for her, thinking that it was not reciprocated, was in vain. He, who was in a state of shock, could not allow himself to continue listening until she screamed again in fury.

"Fine! This ends here, James, if you don't like the idea of ​​seeing me happy with the person I love and long for, then this is all over, ignore the fact that I am your sister and don't talk to me again, because I already see that "The only thing you're doing when you talk to me is hurt me!"

She snapped red with anger with tears threatening to come out of her ocean blue eyes. He turned around and began to walk with heavy steps, pushing Sirius with his shoulder as he went, taking Snape by the hand, beginning to leave that place without preventing the crystalline tears from starting to come out of his eyes as he was far enough away from him over there.

"Uhmm… Y/N… I'm so sorry for what just happened because of me with your brother… I really didn't mean to."He apologized sincerely making them both sit on the roots of a tree near the Black Lake. He wrapped the girl in her arms as soon as they sat down, beginning to caress her wavy, silky hair.

The girl began to shake due to the sobs of her sadness, soaking her friend's robe with salty tears, alerting the black-haired man who squeezed her tighter against him. "Don't apologize Sev… It's not your fault, it's his for not accepting that he is a selfish fucking idiot who should let me be happy with the person I love"

"Oh… Yes… About that… Do you really feel that way about me? I mean… It's exciting to know that I'm loved by the most beautiful girl there has ever been in all of Hogwarts.." He murmured softly. against his hair, lightly inhaling the girl's soft fruity aroma, and then feeling how she tensed a little and separated from him a little to look into his eyes.

The girl, who had already stopped shedding tears little by little, slowly blushed at her opponent's words. "Sev… I've been in love with you for a year… But I never wanted to tell you for fear that you would continue to love Lily…" she murmured, looking away from him, avoiding the embarrassment of the moment.

"Fuck Y/N… You don't know how much I wanted to tell you this for a long time… You know? Yes, I still love Lily." The brunette squirmed in her place, pursing her lips, avoiding saying anything while she narrowed her little eyes that longed to throw away. tears again at what was said. "But like… A friend?… Since I met you, some time later I discovered that Lily was just a crush since she was the first girl I met in my life… But then you came along and changed that… "And it wasn't just a crush… It's something true, and knowing that you feel the same is… Encouraging."

"Sev…" He whispered, looking up again, moving from his eyes to her lips slowly, getting a little closer, remaining a few centimeters from her face. The boy swallowed hard nervously while he did the same action as the girl in his arms, shortening the short distance, touching his lips in a very small but lasting kiss full of feelings.

"Y/N… Will you allow me to be the happiest man and be your boyfriend?…" He asked shyly cupping the brunette's small blushing cheek, cupping her face affectionately.

"Of course, Severus…" She responded by giving him another small kiss and then hugging him tightly again, sealing their love under that tree on the lake, without imagining what things his future would bring.

After long years without contact with her brother after that tedious fight, she married Severus some time ago after becoming a kind of Death Eater hunter, taking many of them behind the bars of Azkaban prisons. She knew that her husband did not like this work at all despite having been a Death Eater after graduating, he did not like at all that his smooth and soft skin had now become scratchy and calloused with scars due to the risk of his job.

Despite all this, he had to accept that there was good news in his life, such as the time he notified him that James and Lily had gotten married and had a child, he felt so happy for them that he had forgotten for a moment that he had already He had no contact with his brother, holding back every desire to want to go visit them and see his beloved nephew Harry.He knew very well in advance that after the birth of his nephew, his brother along with Lily had died at the hands of Voldemort and that Harry, being barely a baby, was able to survive the feared Adava Kedavra, making him a celebrity in the magical world, of course. This news devastated Y/N, who sought great comfort after her grief with her husband, trying to overcome the pain of her loss at all costs.

After the years, she wanted to leave her job as Aurora and started teaching at Hogwarts, she knew that her nephew was already there, she knew that Voldemort had returned for him and perhaps for her too, but still, she wanted to spend time with him, although for on the other hand, Severus, who quite renounced this decision, had no choice but to accept, understanding his beloved's desire to meet the only family he had left.

Upon arriving at Hogwarts as a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, surprising many when they saw how close she was to Severus Snape, making more than a smile and sigh from the 'most feared professor at Hogwarts', some even noticed the ring that both wore it on their ring finger, it being impossible not to notice the similarity of these, it was there that they nicknamed her 'Snape in a skirt', something that inevitably reached the ears of the great Harry Potter, who had noticed a great resemblance between him and her physically.

Harry even thought he was going to have another teacher with an attitude as scary as Snape's after Gilderoy ran away and 'Snape in a Skirt' arrived when he heard fourth year boys, like the Weasley twins, saying that the new teacher was very heavy and quite scary when you notice her scars on her arms, neck and face, but her surprise was great when it was time for Defenses Against the Dark Arts and the woman treated Harry as if he were her son, unlike the rest, They were treated as if they were in Potions class.

A week after Y/N's arrival, petrifications continued to occur at the School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, which worried everyone greatly, even rumors reached the new teacher that Harry was 'The heir of Slytherin' being a Idiocy on the part of the students. She had already interacted with her nephew on several occasions without him even knowing that they were related to her, although talks about her with her group of friends were inevitable after he and Y/N finished talking.

"I still have a question… Do any of you know why they call him 'Snape in a Skirt'?" Harry questioned his friends, receiving a silent denial from Hermione, but a quick and boisterous nod from Ron.

"Of course! You're too lost not to have listened yet," she said as she looked at him with bored but emotion-filled eyes, receiving a 'I'm sorry' from Harry. "It's okay. Well, almost everyone says it's because of her attitude, everyone complains that she's like Snape but a woman, hence her nickname, although there are some who say it's because she's very close to the Potions professor and because ' "They share rings very similar to those of a marriage. But still, that doesn't take my mind off the fact that she's only nice to you, Harry." He explained making quotes with his fingers and emphasizing the 'share' and then looked forward again and prevented his bad luck from playing against him again and causing him to collide with someone again. or hit something.

Hermione snorted and spoke "Well, they're right in both situations, she has a very strong character and her scars speak for themselves… And about the ring, well… I never looked closely but you don't have to be very smart to see which are very similar in terms of design." This made Harry think extremely, remaining silent as he walked next to his friends who were once again fighting over some pointless thing. She had her suspicions about Snape for a year, and now he is involved with Slytherin because of his Parcel, and now with the arrival of that new teacher and her great physical resemblance and her strange change of mood with him, it was starting to be a headache for him.

That same night, Harry along with Ron and his former Defenses Against the Dark Arts teacher were able to discover the chamber of secrets by entering it, so that Harry continued advancing after one of the teacher's idiocies, he finally found himself with ' Tom Riddle' who after a short conversation mentioned something that left him disconcerted.

"Haven't I told you? Murdering impure people doesn't matter to me at all, for several months the ones I've been looking for are you and your aunt." This left Harry cold, it couldn't be possible that they were looking for his Aunt Petunia, she doesn't even have a drop of magical blood. "How is it possible that a baby with no extraordinary magical talent defeated the greatest wizard of all time? How could you escape with only a scar while all of her powers were nullified?"

"Why are you interested in how I escaped? Voldemort didn't live in your time… And why would you want to kill my Aunt Petunia, if she's a Muggle?" Harry asked quickly in response without backing down, regretting it for a moment when he noticed the abrupt change in 'Tom's expression and the tension was becoming more and more noticeable in that place.

Angry and angry 'Tom' responded: "Voldemort… It is my past, present and future…" He turned around and with his wand began what apparently seemed like writing in the air leaving the letters in his wake. of his full name, and after a movement he rearranged them, thus leaving the phrase 'I am Lord Voldemort' and spoke again. "And your aunt… I'm not talking about your pathetic, bony Dursley… I'm talking about Y/N… The sister of the famous James Potter, and the aunt of the great Harry Potter…Don't think I'm going to let her go, it's just a thorn in the side if she's alive… She has to die so she doesn't interfere with my plans anymore."

Faced with this revelation, Harry remained static and in shock in his place, despite all the dust and dirt on his face, you could see how his skin was turning pale little by little, and then he began to engage in a fight with the Basilisk afterwards. that Dumbledore's Phoenix arrived with a hat with a sword that appeared shortly after inside it, concluding with the bloody death of the enormous snake.

Harry, trying to put aside the fact that the Basilisk bit him with its poisoned bite, approached Ginny taking her hand listening to Voldemort's ramble, then took the diary and opened it and then took the tooth that he pulled out of the Basilisk and stabbed the blank page of the book, causing some kind of bloody textured ink to come out, receiving angry and desperate screams from Voldemort, he continued stabbing the book until 'Tom Riddle's' body was no longer there with them.

Hours after Harry and the others were able to leave thanks to the Phoenix and Harry and Ron spoke with Headmaster Dumbledore and had a small fight with Lucius Malfoy, before dinner in the great hall, he searched the entire castle for his teacher and aunt. , Y/N, finding her in one of the hallways that led to the dungeon halls.

"Professor Y/N! Can I talk to you for a moment, please?" She asked politely with a shy look and frown. "Is something important"

The one with ocean eyes turned around when she heard her nephew's voice, giving him a small smile. "Of course Harry! What do you need, little one?" She responded kindly as she looked into his eyes fondly.

"Well… As the director may have already told you… I was with Vold-…You-Know-Who" He interrupted himself, knowing that not many like the mention of that disgusting wizard's name. "Yesterday in the chamber… He told me something that was quite disconcerting… Why didn't he tell me? Why didn't he tell me that you are my aunt?"

The woman just sighed and placed her hand on the boy's shoulder as she opened her eyes to speak. "You know, Harry? You're just as direct as your father was…" she murmured with a sad, nostalgic smile and a lost look before sighing lightly again. "I never told you because I never had the chance… I couldn't be there for you when you were little… And now that I got to see you here, I just didn't have the courage to tell you and have you face the fact that I'm a Terrible aunt for that…"

"Still, it's quite strong to know that I don't just have my Aunt Petunia as a family… I wish you had arrived earlier, you know? I had a horrible time at the Dursleys' house and with no place to go." go… And now I find out about this.."

"I know, little one… And believe me, I'm so sorry… I'm so sorry, Harry… I just… When I found out that James and Lily got married and had you, I just… I wanted to see them." …But I couldn't… I was still afraid of seeing your father after our fight and thinking that he could still hate me for that…" He paused when he noticed that his voice broke as he felt the knot in his throat, and then continued "I always wanted to meet you… And take care of you after what happened… But I never knew your whereabouts… I never knew… But you don't know how happy I am to know that you are here… Live, despite everything you've been through…"

The youngest just nodded with teary eyes and managed to rush towards her to hug her tightly, releasing all the pain and happiness he felt after he found out that that fearsome teacher was his aunt and that she always loved him.

They both arrived at the large dining room and the one with brown hair saw her beloved nephew in the distance with his friends talking, he turned around and saw her and then greeted her with his hand and a small smile and eyes of joy, he returned the greeting and smile. and then continued on her way with her husband to the teachers' table, where they sat together and he spoke.

"Apparently you already talked to Potter about that, dear," he whispered so that only she could hear as he took her hand under the table without anyone noticing, stroking the back of her hand with his thumb, gently tracing the scar that adorned it with the finger.

The woman smiled warmly, leaning down to rest her head on her lover's shoulder, feeling how he tense up at the demonstration of affection in a public place, where it is not supposed to be known about their relationship.

"Well Mr. Snape, I had to do it at any moment, after all he is my nephew… I knew that despite what happened, he was going to accept me, after all, who wouldn't accept a beauty like me?" The woman joked as she looked into his eyes, separating herself a little with her smile remaining a few centimeters from her face.

The man who only looked at her tightened his grip on their clasped hands and murmured: "Well… You're right… It would be unforgivable just not to accept someone as beautiful and incredible as you, darling.." He said so that Then the woman approached again, leaving a soft short kiss on his lips and then kissing his cheek and the tip of his nose when they separated, surprising everyone who had decided to fix their eyes on the two at that moment, between those, Harry, who seemed like after that scene, just wanted the world to swallow him up and spit him out in Azkaban to erase all memory of that sight.

੭୧    ݂   Soooooo… What did you think? I'm not very good at this kind of things yet but I still hope you liked it ㅜㅅㅜ, especially to the person who requested it, regarding that, thank you very much for the request! I quite enjoyed doing this!🥹❤️‍🩹

—　˚ 🪦  ⌢　𝙏𝙚𝙭𝙩𝙪𝙖𝙡 𝙖𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙩𝙞𝙘𝙨 𝙘𝙧𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙩𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙙𝙞𝙫𝙞𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙨 𝙩𝙤 𝙬𝙝𝙤𝙢 𝙞𝙩 𝙢𝙖𝙮 𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙡𝙮! <3