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#harry x death
we-ezer · 4 months
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Harry Potter AU where Harry chooses to travel back in time to redo his Hogwarts years but Death shows up too as either another student or professor. Either he's doing it to entertain himself, to keep an eye on his master, or both. Harry is angry at first that Death didn't tell him he would be coming along and they have the sort of antagonistic but secrets-shared only between them dynamic you see in some tomarry fics. Death also hates Voldemort and wants to be rid of him too, but can't resist acting like a little shit when around Harry. No other human amuses him so much. Eventually, Death realizes his feelings go beyond amusement or simple loyalty and he falls in love with Harry. Some teachers draw the conclusion that Death is similar to Tom which Death hates and Harry teases him for. Death also hates Dumbledore's manipulations of Harry and is constantly inserting himself into conversations between the two even when others try to get Harry alone. Death is also much more empathetic concerning Harry's parents and usually has a devil may care attitude. Harry is constantly surprising him with how much he cares about the people around him, even Dumbledore who raised him for slaughter, but his compassion makes Harry who he is. That care is constantly getting his master into tricky situations that can't always be solved by being unkillable (i.e. Death is not used to talking his way out of situations so much).
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iamnmbr3 · 3 months
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Everyone: omg Harry is the heir of Slytherin. He just spoke Parseltongue which is a super rare hereditary skill in the Slytherin line and it looks like he set a snake on someone in front of witnesses.
Draco: nah he wouldn’t do that I know him
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myrows · 2 months
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They are the drama
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aeteut · 10 months
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The love drunk in Remus’s eyes gazing at the prettiest star; he breathes Sirius.
By likeafunerall, and reposted with permission.
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faithsoneluv · 14 hours
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i don't think people understand how hard it is not to ship tomarry / harrymort because what do you mean they're borderline canonically soulmates. what do you mean they're PROPHESIED to each other. what do you mean they're literal parallels, had the same childhood circumstances but turned out the exact opposite. what do you mean harry's the embodiment of the light side and tom's the embodiment of the dark even though they're so, so similar. what do you mean they both have common names even though they themselves are anything but common. what do you mean they have uncountable amount of bible references that apply strictly to them, what do you mean harry makes sure to mention tom's the handsomest in the room whenever he sees him and apparently likes their connection. what do you mean their wands share the core of the same phoenix and therefore literally can't kill each other even if they wanted to. what do you mean harry wanted to gave him another chance despite everything he's done, what do you mean tom offered him his hand, what do you mean harry killed tom at the same age except the order of the numbers is reversed. what do you mean harry's eyes are the same colour as tom's favourite unforgivable (avada) AND the colour of his house, what do you mean TOM'S eyes are the colour of harry's favourite defence spell (expelliarmus) and the colour of his house. WHAT DO YOU MEAN THEY ARE EACH OTHER'S OTHER HALF. WHAT DO YOU MEAN HARRY IS LITERALLY TOM'S SOUL??? 😭
NOT TO MENTION THESE THINGS AREN'T EVEN FANON LIKE...? lmk if i missed something though.
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sweetiecutie · 2 years
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You’re sad bc Draco cheated on you so you fuck his dad instead💖
Warnings: NSFW, infidelity, straight up nasty but hot lol
- Does it make you feel better, honey? - Lucius’ velvety voice droned on, his pale eyes watched you bouncing eagerly on his cock, big hands running up and down your sides, caressing your skin with skilled touches.
- So much better, thank you, Sir, - you stammered out, voice strained and trembling from all the pleasure rolling over your body in hot waves.
Lucius’ thin lips curled into a smug smirk at your breathless reply, and you exulted internally - how easy it was to manipulate this man into doing whatever you wanted just by pouting your lips prettily and looking up at him with those sad puppy eyes. Like father like son, you guessed.
Lucius’ hands came to gently cup your bouncing tits, thumbs flicking the nubs of your nipples lightly, making your head loll back at added pleasure.
- Never considered Draco an idiot, but he surely must be one if he let go of a woman like you, - you smiled coyly at older man’s words, masking your sneer skillfully. And that says a husband of Narcissa Black - the most precious woman in the world, and you would actually feel guilty and sorry for what you were doing right now if you didn’t know that there were no love between them from the very beginning.
So you just wrapped your arms around man’s strong neck, leaning closer in for him to pepper kisses all over your neck and chest, speeding up the snapping of your hips, impaling yourself over and over again on his throbbing thick cock. You could feel the tight knot starting to unravel itself in the pit of your stomach, hands gripping tightly on Lucius’ biceps and moaning out his name so sweetly as he thrusted up into your squelching pussy from his position underneath you, you body oh so soft under his fingers.
Malfoy crashed his lips onto yours, both your moans and heavy breathing mixing together as you reached your orgasms - strong shudder running through your tired body as Lucius spilled deep inside your pussy, coating your plushy walls with his spent.
And you were sure that you heard a door creaking open quietly through your orgasmic delirium and could almost physically feel a pair of grey eyes, resembling his father’s ones so closely, staring onto your back fiercely.
Likes, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated. Give writers some love - feedback is the thing that inspires us on creating more new content💖
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dreamingofmarauders · 7 months
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𝐘𝐨𝐮!
𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙊𝙣𝙚
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James Potter x Fem!Slytherin!Reader
Next Part Series Masterlist
Summary: In which James Potter is beyond shocked to see you introduced as the newest Order member. After all, to him, you’re nothing but a cruel, cold, pureblooded Slytherin
Word Count: 1.2K
Warnings: House stereotyping/prejudice (I think that's it, if not, let me know please!)
A/N: The inspiration for this came while I was reading @ellecdc's Sirius Black x Reader series called Come Back, Be Here and it was such an amazing read! Go read it if you haven't already! <33
───※ ·❆· ※───
The Order of the Phoenix, a secret society founded by the Headmaster of Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore, was gathered once again in another secret location. All the members were seated in their respective seats, looking at the Headmaster to begin speaking.
“Thank you all for coming on such short notice.” Dumbledore said, his voice bouncing off the walls, “I received a tip that revealed a death eater meeting is to take place tonight, not too far from Diagon Alley.” He said. “I will have to arrange a few members to be sent to scout out the meeting, but before that, I have an important announcement.”
Everyone in the room exchanged glances, a nervousness settling for what could be bad news to be revealed.
“I have recruited a new member, who has already proven what a great asset she will be to our team.”
“Who?” Sirius asked.
Albus Dumbledore gestured towards the door, “Come in.”
You strutted in, dressed in dark clothes with your wand twirling between your fingers as a smile sat upon your lips.
“You!”
And two sets of chairs screeched as two individual wands were directed at you.
“What are you doing here?!” James shouted, Sirius nodding as he backed his best mate.
“Charming. Quite a nice welcome you’ve all prepared for me, Headmaster?”
Dumbledore’s blue eyes twinkled as he directed his gaze from you to the pair of Black and Potter.
“Wands down, boys. Y/n L/n will henceforth be joining us from today.” He said, declaring it to the whole room.
“But, Professor!” James exclaimed, “Y/n’s a Slytherin!”
“Gee, thanks for noticing.”
James glared at you before he turned his eyes onto Dumbledore, his expression having turned into one of desperation. “You can’t possibly let her join!” He practically begged. “They’re all the same, the treacherous snakes can’t be trusted!”
Dumbledore opened his mouth to reply but you beat him to it.
“Well not everyone can be so dimwitted that they would end up in Gryffindor.” You said, making both James and Sirius scowl.
"We are very intelligent, thank you very much!" Sirius interjected, making you shoot a look in return that said are you really though?
“Plus," You continued "Not everyone is the same because even a lion could be a snake in disguise.”
James’ eyebrows furrowed together, “What do you mean to imply by that?”
You merely shrugged, earning a scoff from James.
“That’s enough now.” Professor McGonagall called out sternly, making both you and James fall quiet and take your seats.
“Now that we have exchanged small pleasantries,” James and you loudly scoffed, “Onto the mission. I will be sending out Remus Lupin, James Potter, Benjy Fenwick, Dorcas Meadowes and Y/n L/n.” Dumbledore gently smiled, “This tip was given by Y/n herself and this proves how much of a help Y/n’s addition to the Order will be.
A cry of protest sounded from the young Potter, “Headmaster! How can you believe her? For all we know, she could be sending us into a death trap!” James exclaimed, glaring at you, who stood up with a scoff.
“And that is the exact reason I am coming along! If something happens, I will be there too!”
“Nope! Not happening! Headmaster, I refuse to go if she goes!” James said.
“Mr. Potter,” McGonagall said, “Stop behaving so childish. Miss. L/n will be going and that is final.”
James grumbled and muttered, “Fine.” Knowing by now that Professor McGonagall could get real scary when she needed to be.
“Good, now get going.”
James glared your way to which you only smirked at him, irking the young Potter even more.
*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*
The mission was partially successful as like the tip you had given, there was a death eater meeting. However, they sensed the presence of Order members too early and before you all could even cast a spell their way, they had gone.
Most of the Order had been kind and accepted you in, after all, if Dumbledore trusted you, what reason did they have not to? Well, everyone except for Sirius Black and James Potter. 
Especially James Potter.
He loathed you. Simple as that. Your mere existence irked him, like it has been since your shared days at Hogwarts. You always had a way that managed to annoy him, and he had been always determined to get under your skin every time he caught sight of you within the castle.
James wasn’t sure when it started but the interactions between the two of you had become frequent since fifth year. He despised you for being a Slytherin, after all you were just like the rest, acting as if you were superior. But it was also the way you winked at him or that teasing smile that crawled onto your lips. Or how you would speak in a playful tone, flicking your hair over your shoulder every time you walked away or how you twirled your wand teasingly between your nimble fingers.
It infuriated him.
Everything about you annoyed James Potter to no end.
Henceforth, why he was so against your arrival into the Order and how he was determined to get at you every chance he could get.
"Wow, L/n, I'm surprised you haven't melted yet." James said later one evening at an Order meeting.
You cocked an eyebrow at him, "Meaning?"
"Meaning my burning hatred towards you, I was expecting you to have skedaddled out of here."
You gave him a weird look, "Well, that genuinely made no sense, Potter. Now excuse me." You said, returning to your conversation with Remus.
James grumbled, turning towards his best mate, "Moony! Stop hanging out with her!"
Remus let out an exasperated sigh, "Listen, Prongs, I love having you as a friend, truly I do, but if you're going to keep this up, I won't hesitate to hex your arse off the planet."
James stared at his best friend, dumbfounded, while you doubled over laughing.
"Moony," James muttered out hollowly, "How could you? You're my best friend!" He accused Remus in an over dramatic manner.
"And Y/n is also a friend of mine."
This threw James off completely, "She's WHAT!?"
"A friend. She was nothing but polite to me throughout school and I have no reason to be rude to her."
You shot Remus a smile of gratitude before moving your gaze to James, eyes turning cold as you stood up.
"I love to annoy you, truly, but I find it unfair how you're always taking out what most of my house has done against me. Not everyone is the same. I'm not like them." You breathed out, your voice wavering near the end.
James suddenly felt a weird sensation wash over him and he watched you turn around and go.
"Mate," James looked at his friend, his attention snapping from you to Remus, "You don't need to be so mean to her. She has gone through a lot."
James scoffed loudly, "I doubt that."
Remus gave his friend an expression of what looked like pity and exasperation. He patted James on the shoulder before walking away. James stood there, lost within his own thoughts. He shook his head vigorously after a few seconds.
No, to him you were merely one of them. You were from a family of death eaters. You were from the house that turned out all the dark wizards. You were just one of them and nothing more. And he hated them all.
"I hate you." He whispered.
Although, James' perception about you would be challenged as the next Order mission would bring an unexpected twist.
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A/N: Ok, so I had this idea of this one scene and I was planning on just a oneshot but instead I decided to go ahead and make a mini series, just so I can write more about James and Reader in this enemies to lovers sort of trope. I've never really written for James before, so I hope you all liked it and stay tuned for the next one because it's going to be good! Love you all and take care! <33
Love, Serina ❤
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itsscottiesstark · 15 days
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NUMBER ONE BAYBAYYYYYYYY [x]
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orchideous-nox · 12 days
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I can't help but notice that Narcissa waited until Deathly Hallows when they're in the depths of the war to get bangs. Like does she magic them or is she standing in front of a mirror with scissors making Lucius late for the Death Eater meeting at their own house until she's got them even?
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olivianott · 3 days
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BRAIN CHEMISTRY
Tell me I’m not the only one happily not recovered from the deatheatertok (yes that’s why I’ve been MIA😬) and the Lorenzo Zurzolo gifs from the other day? 😭 I could not help myself with this one.
READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION, OCTOBER CAME EARLY TO ME.
ꕤ 1.6k words 
ꕤ deatheater!Theo Nott x fem!reader
ꕤ warnings: toxic ex, deatheater Theodore, pure smut, unprotected sex, explicit content, not for minors, 18+
ꕤ all characters are adults
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You knew you were in trouble. That you fucked up. You somehow found yourself at a party in an unknown manor. You and your friend got talking with some people at a pub and now you are surrounded by glimmering Death Eater masks. Everyone is acting as if they are just having fun at a party. But you see their eyes following the two of you everywhere. 
You already know what is going on at these parties. You heard stories, awful stories, from him. You wonder if he is in attendance. No. Stop thinking about him, he didn’t want you anymore. He is one of them after all. 
You try to think of a way out for you and your friend. Get drinks, but don’t drink them, discreetly inch towards the entrance while smiling and acting like you’re having the time of your life, getting through the door and the few steps over the anti-apparition wards and poof, you’re both safe. 
That was the plan. Everything went smoothly, until just before getting through the door, your path is crossed by a tall Death Eater with an overly decorated mask. “Hello, beautiful.” He says while you watch your friend successfully execute the plan and disappear with a crack. 
You turn around and try to escape the lewd gaze of the big Death Eater, but there is another one in your path and you realize you are surrounded. Fuck. This is not good. No, don’t panic, don’t panic.
You panic.
Your vision starts to blur and you can’t seem to think straight. Heart in your throat, the ground becomes unsteady. Another mask enters your field of vision, too close to your face. This mask looks elegant, not overly decorated, but with artistic lines strategically curved around the planes of the artificial face. He grabs you by the upper hand and starts to drag you away from the crowd that formed around you, barking something to the other Death Eaters. You try to fight him off but it’s not working, his grip tightens and when you don’t stop, he loses patience with you and puts his wand under your chin. It doesn’t hurt but the threat makes you tremble in fear.
The man leans down next to your ear and hisses: “STOP IT.” The voice is so hard and threatening but at the same time familiar. 
You momentarily freeze and that gives him time to drag you through the hall and into a bedroom. 
Fuck, fuck, fuck. 
He closes the door after you and you finally have time to compose yourself, because he goes to the other side of the room, leaving you alone. While he locks the room with his wand, your mind clears slowly. You suddenly realize why the voice is so familiar. 
Theodore Nott. 
You’ve never seen him in his Death Eater robes and a mask before, but now you can’t stop looking at him. 
Theodore turns around, throws his mask on the bed, and stalks to you so fast, you actually step back in fear until your back is against the door. “Why the fuck are you here?!” He spits in your face, his eyes are feral and full of anger but also fear. 
“It was an accident, my friend thought it would be a good idea to-“ 
“To what? To enter a devil’s lair full of fucking Death Eaters that enjoy killing too much and don’t ask for permission to do anything? Don’t you fucking know what’s going on at these gatherings? Fucking hell!” He is talking quietly but with so much anger, you can actually feel his magic vibrating between you. 
“What’s it to you? You’re one of them now, you look like you’re right at home at this vile party, huh?” 
“Do you really think I like it? That I wanted this? Do you even know where you are?”
“In some nasty pureblood’s manor?”
“Yes. Welcome to the Nott manor.” His sarcastic smile falls off his face as he looks down and backs off of you, finally letting you breathe air. 
Oh. Nott manor. It’s his home. 
“Are you actually hosting this party?”
“Well, as I said, those people don’t ask permission for anything, so here we are. But now you are here and you made this night even more difficult for me. They have set their eyes on you now and they are hungry, in more ways than one. The Death Eaters need their food, and they like to play with it before eating.” 
He says this so matter of factly it takes a while for your mind to catch the whole truth of what you’ve casually walked into tonight. 
“You’re a Death Eater too now.”
“Exactly.” He smirks. 
You’ve missed him so much. His scent brings back memories, and you feel your body heat up despite his arrogant behavior and attempts to scare you off.
“What- what are you going to do to me?” You say breathlessly. Without your permission, your mind shows you pictures of you and him from the past, the little bit of fear just heightening your excitement. 
“Oh please, you know I’m not like-“ he stops himself mid-sentence and focuses his glare on your throat, pulsing with blood rushing through you, your red cheeks, your trembling hands, the rise and fall of your chest. 
“Now I remember.” His mouth curves in this arrogant smirk and his eyes look mischievous at the same time as dangerous. 
“You like danger… you like being scared, amore? Does it turn you on? Tonight you bit more than you could chew though, princessa. And now…. You are trapped in here. With me.” 
You can’t respond to him, but your body does. Your breathing gets more labored and you can’t help your gaze falling to his lips. 
His hand starts roaming down your body while again hovering over you, leaning against the door, the height difference between you more obvious than ever. 
“I- uhh…-“ you are unable to say more. But you close the distance between you and crash your lips against his. 
Theodore groans loudly, takes both your hands in his, and slams them against the door above your head. 
“Oh princessa, you don’t know what you just started, do you?” His hard kisses resume and your mind is filled up with sensations. 
The feel of his body against yours, the hardness of the door digging into your back, his teeth biting your lips, dragging against your throat, his lips sucking on your pulse point. 
Your eyes are closed, but you feel your feet leave the ground as Theodore picks you up and sends you flying on the bed. While crawling over you on the bed, he picks up his mask and puts it on his face. 
Fuuuuck. 
You can barely see his eyes staring down at you from behind the mask, in between the short strands of hair falling down around it. 
The world is a blur now, clothes start flying off of you, his hands tracing your curves. Suddenly he loses patience and flips you over, on your hands and knees on the bed. With his hand under your chin, he makes you look up. A mirror. Your moan is embarrassingly loud. The vision of him in his mask behind you, admiring you through the mirror, hand grabbing your throat… you’ve never seen anything hotter. With his other hand he traces your wetness and groans into your ear: “So ready for me princessa, you really do get turned on with fear and danger. How nasty of you. Was this your plan all along? To get fucked by a Death Eater?”
You can only manage to shake your head no, since he is already opening his Death Eater robes and taking out his beautiful cock. 
“I bet you were hoping to find me here, right? Wanted to make me take you back? Make sweet love and be together forever?“ He chuckles condescendingly at that thought. „Look at you now, writhing under me, dying for me to fuck you like this, with my mask on. Scream for me, princessa.” You can’t see the expression on his face since he is wearing his mask but his words are so degrading and harsh. And still, your eyes roll back into your head. 
And you do scream for him, you can’t help it, you are overwhelmed with sensation, his hands, his cock, his scent. After a while, your arms give out and he pushes your chest down into the bed, holding your hands crossed behind your back, you can’t even move. You are completely at his mercy and the feelings in your head are so confusing. You feel pathetic, under him like this, your body getting rocked by his trusts, but still, the way his cock feels inside you, the way he seems so powerful and in control of you and your pleasure with the way he manipulates your body and mind creates a fog inside your brain. Surrounded by his grunts, you realize he is using you for his satisfaction, seemingly oblivious and uncaring about your comfort or pleasure. You being completely naked, with your face in the mattress while he is still fully clothed behind you is just another layer of the humiliation. But your fucked up brain makes you love it so much that with his whimpery moans in your ear you finally lose control as you feel him lose the rhythm and push all the way inside you, so incredibly deep,  as he spills himself inside you. 
There is no cuddling after. He unceremoniously pulls out and sits in his bed propped up against the headboard, a trembling hand bringing a cigarette to his mouth, while you try to find your clothes and dignity on the floor. 
“Nice show. You were loud enough, so now they know you’re mine and hopefully leave you alone. Doesn’t change anything between us though. You can use the floo to get out of here and I hope to never see you at these things again, you understand me?” He says all of this so coldly and without even looking at you at all, so you quickly throw on your clothes and leave through the floo, throwing a “you’re still the same asshole” at him over your shoulder. 
Sitting on your sofa two days later, you are replaying everything that happened that day in your head. Your brain keeps getting stuck on the fear in his eyes when he dragged you to the room, a shaking cigarette in his hand after the sex, a slight tremble in his voice while he kicked you out of the manor after fucking you into oblivion. 
Maybe everything is not as he wants you to believe. He saved you from them after all. 
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As always, thank you for reading, hope you liked it. I’m not done with deatheater!Theo though 🤭.
moodboard
‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ‧₊˚ Your principessa ‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ‧₊˚
If you want more: 🖤here🖤
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myers-meadow · 1 year
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Lucius Malfoy x fem! reader: That which isn't taught in books
Title: That which isn't taught in books
Pairing: Lucius Malfoy x female librarian reader
Summary: Draco complains about you, the Hogwarts librarian, to his father. This results in the beautiful Lucius Malfoy paying you an unexpected visit. He is rather taken with you, and he shows you things you can't simply learn from books: your place.
Warnings: smut, blowjob, cum, spit, vaginal fingering, degradation, rough kissing, use of 'slut', praise, gloves, Lucius is Lucius and a that's a warning on it's own, consent isn't discussed but reader is into it, manhandling, (suspected) cheating, hair pulling (assumed reader has hair that can be pulled).
Wordcount: 3699
Dividers by by animated-glitter-graphics-n-more and delishlydelightfuldividers.
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“Miss __, you must to lend me this book. I need it for class.” Draco Malfoy ordered, pointing to the book on top of the stack on your right.  Third years aren’t typically allowed to borrow advanced books on dark magic, so it wasn’t on the shelves for him to take with a reason.
“No,” you simply replied, removing book from the stack and sending it to the topmost shelf with a wave of your wand. “That’s a restricted book and you need a permission slip from the headmaster before borrowing it.”
Draco scoffed. “I know you let Granger use the library outside the allowed hours.”
How could the damned kid know about that? What a menace.
“The book is still restricted.”
“Do you know who my family is?” Draco said, tapping the desk impatiently.
“Yes, I know your parents quite well. We are old friends, in fact,” you said, which was a lie. The Malfoys are well-known, and you’ve run into them before. Unpleasant was the best word for it, and you were glad the moment you didn’t have to deal with them anymore. Narcissa was alright, perfectly poised and therefore polite – but still raised rich and pureblood. Lucius, on the other hand, gave you nightmares that night. Even worse that you woke up wet between your thighs.
Draco scoffed, sending you a nasty look. “We will see about that, miss __.”
You sighed as he turned around and marched away.
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It was later that week that the Hogwarts library had a surprise visit from a tall, white-haired man that reminded you so very much of the pest that was Draco Malfoy.
“So this is where the students are expected to borrow their books from,” said the cold voice, heavy with poorly veiled contempt. “Hogwarts seems to spend their funds… otherwise.”
“Good evening, sir,” you started, tone flat. “Have you come here to take a look around? I assure you our collection is larger than it seems here at the front desk.”
He raised an eyebrow, only now looking at you. “Miss __,” and even that alone sounds like he chastised you, “I’ve come here because of what my son told me of your behaviour. You pick on him and single him out, while the rest of the students are allowed to break school rules at will.”
Your shoulders tensed. So he was really here because of that small ordeal. And above all, it pissed you off that he didn’t even feel the need to introduce himself properly. Of course you knew who he was, but that he expected you to still remember him was infuriating.
“I see. Then you should be pleased to know that I don’t allow any student to break the rules, which includes your son. I do not play favourites.”
An amused smile played at the corner of his lip. “Is that so?”
“Yes, sir.” Your tone remained flat. Despite that, it was difficult not to let your eyes wander. Gods, did he dress up this fancy just to give you a stern talking to? He was delicious. With the snake tie pin mirroring the glittering of his cold gaze, the full three piece suit that wouldn’t look out of place at a funeral, and the leather gloves he wore even though he had to cross half the castle to get here.
You continued, taking a deep breath to steel yourself – he noticed, his gaze flickering to your chest. “You may be under the impression, Mr. Malfoy, that professors of this school are easily pressured by empty threats, to give your son a leniency that I refuse to show him. This visit won’t change that, so I’d suggest you save yourself the time.”
He raised an eyebrow, looking down at you past his nose. You were glad for the library desk separating the two of you, or you’d back away from him like a scared animal.
“I do not appreciate your tone,” he said, each word perfectly measured, low and menacing. Your adrenaline spiked, and your knees trembled. He leaned forward, and you fought the urge to take a step back. Even just that thought, of backing of, of yielding to him, he must’ve seen it cross your face, and smirked in response, clearly enjoying the hold he had on you.
A group of Hufflepuffs entered the library, giggling to themselves, until they saw the standoff you were in. “Let’s just come again later,” one suggested, and they left quickly, whispering to each other. You nodded at them, and moved your gaze back to the imposing man in front of you. From this close, you could smell the perfume he wore. Something warm like sandalwood mixed with citrus. Fuck, he was insanely attractive. Touching him would feel like the most luxurious velvet.
“I suggest,” he leaned in even closer over the desk, you felt the warmth of his breath fan your face, “that from now on, you make sure you assist in Draco’s education and let him borrow whatever books he wants.”
“If he has the right permission slip from the headmaster, Draco can borrow any book he likes. Without it, he can’t.” You could barely focus on his words with how close he was. “If you knew the book in question, you’d agree with my approach and be glad that I didn’t have a conversation about Draco’s interest of late.”
“And what book may that be, miss?”
“Forbidden hexes and curses. And he’s practiced some too, already. One may think he’s… a bit too interested in the Dark Arts.” You clacked your tongue and pushed yourself off of the desk, trying to clear your head. “It wasn’t a beginner’s book either.”
Lucius quirked an eyebrow and looked you up and down. “Perhaps we should discuss this matter somewhere more… private.”
His velvety voice made your insides flip in nervous anticipation, which you attempted to calm with little success. So, that approached worked. The value purebloods place on image was such an easy win, but it felt good to hear his tone soften.
“My office is there.”
He moved around the desk and went first, waiting for you to move around him and open the door for him. Once inside, he shut and locked the door, and with a quick wave of his wand, the blinds shut themselves. His small smirk as he looked at you then was nothing short of predatory.
“Draco told me so much about you,” his voice was even more hypnotising than before, and he knew the effect he had on you as you breathed in sharply. He walked around you slowly, taking you in completely. Surely this was another intimidation technique of his, so you force yourself to stand your ground.
“He has?” you echo, not seeing the point of it, but wanting to delay the threats and the fight – and that deliciously wrong feeling of anticipation was building steadily inside your lower belly.
“The librarian,” his voice was smooth as silk, “who is so attractive that it keeps the students from their studies. A Slytherin, but surprisingly, you don’t know who or what is good for you.”
It sounds like he’s insulting you again. He stood still right in front of you, a finger coming to rest on your cheek. The contempt has returned to his expression, along with something else.
“You dress… well. Draco said you looked inappropriate, but he is just a boy. He gets silly ideas too quickly.” Lucius’ voice has softened considerably. The way you looked up at him made you feel like a deer caught in the headlights, not knowing whether to fight, flight or fawn – and the result is that you did nothing.
“Your concern for my appearance is noted, sir,” you managed to say. “Is that why you really came all this way? To make sure your son’s librarian dresses appropriately?”
A small chuckle broke the silence. “I must admit, you are more alluring than he said you were. Perhaps we can solve this disagreement in a more pleasurable manner. If you can learn your place, that is.”
You stared at him. The gloved finger tapping your cheek moved to your lips, slipping between them. The smell of the leather was strong and made your head swim.
“Or should I make it clearer for you? On your knees.” His condescending tone was unlike anything you’ve heard before: alluring, yet cruel. The velvet softness of his voice contrasted with the way he looked down at you past his nose. Such a regal face…
When you didn’t immediately obey, he pushed you down by your shoulders. The floor was cold even through the fabric of your skirt. The tip of his cane tapped your cheek lightly, but it was threat enough.
You gulped. Looking up at him from this angle was a sight to see, his amused expression, the smell of him, the texture of his glove in your hair were as intimidating as they were arousing.
“What’s the matter? I’m sure a big girl like you knows what to do.” His leather clad hand tugged open his belt and ripped open the buttons without a second of hesitation. His eyes glinted darkly with lust. Only when he tugged his cock free from his underwear, did you look away from his eyes. He was gorgeous, pulsing, rigid, the head flushed with blood, with just one teardrop of precum at the slit. Doubting your actions, you reached a hand up to grip him. Warm. Thick, too.
“Are you just going to sit there? Open.”
You obeyed, instinctively, and he groaned lowly as he slid his cock in your waiting mouth. Wetting the underside of his cock with your tongue, you teased the bit of skin just under the head, making it bounce against the roof of your mouth. His breaths came sharply, slowly turning to soft sounds of pleasure. He slid in and out as you sucked him, moving your lips along his shaft. Clearly he held back in showing just how good you made him feel – and your determination grew. You teased the head with vigour, and before you could settle on a rhythm, he forced himself in deep. Gagging and trying to swallow around him, he groaned, and the sound went straight to your core. Shifting your thighs together to relieve the throbbing ache wasn’t close to enough. Lucius set a punishing pace for himself, deep and fast. In and out, and his length grew wetter and wetter with saliva and precum.
“What a pretty girl you are,” praised Lucius, in between hissed breaths and stifled groans. He held your head back by the hair then, and pulled your lips from his cock.
“You were made for this. Know just how to please your superior.”
A cruel gleam shone in his eye as he looked down on you, and he rubbed his cock over your face, coating it in your spit. His words rang true in a way that made you whimper pathetically. The humiliation burned. You broke out in a heated sweat, but the terrible empty throbbing of your cunt was enough for you to stay put. He pulls your head back on his cock, immediately pushing into your throat again.
“Just like that, sweetheart,” he groans. The satisfied sadism in his expression has you dripping. “What great things even you can accomplish if you receive the right guidance.”
His ‘guidance’ came in the form of an insistent hand fisted in your hair as he fucked your face, without any care for your comfort. Now that his length was wet and slimy, it went in easier, but it still made you gag. You tried your best to hollow your cheeks, wanting to prove to him how good you could be. A small part of you, at the back of your mind, was disgusted by your actions and more so by how easily Lucius exploited your submissive streak. Yet, when you glanced up and saw the pleasure etched into his face, that voice quieted down. He looked sinfully good from this angle, and you enjoyed it through tearful eyes as he pushed at your gag reflex once again. In, out, slower, feeling the drag of your tongue on the underside of his cock, and moaning filth behind clenched teeth. Then, having enough of your tongue, his pace increased, pushing into your deeper and without mercy.
Eventually he let out a satisfied groan, and he pulled out from your mouth, drool spilling onto your blouse, and he stroked himself to completion, groaning harshly as he came. Hot, sticky ropes of cum painted your face. You gasped at how unexpected of and end it was, face burning at how degrading it was to sit there and take it, stunned at the audacity of this man. It may be true that you craved this from the moment you first met him, but that didn’t change that it made you feel both disgusting and desired like nothing else could.
“This is what you wanted, isn’t it, filthy girl?” His gloved hand twisted in your hair, angling your face so he could admire you. “You will leave this as it is. Merlin, you enjoy this, don’t you? Made such a mess of yourself. Filthy fucking slut.”
His words came through gritted teeth, and you feel the strength he’s holding back as he forced you to stand by your hair. You yelped. The cum left a nasty pulling sensation on the skin as it started to dry. You felt used, so used, and his disgust showed clearly on his face. Nevertheless, he pulled you close, forcing your head to his and he kissed you, with open mouth against your cum covered lips. Without a care that his cum smeared his face as well as yours, and the bitter aftertaste that it left in his mouth, he devoured you hungrily.
“Open your mouth,” he ordered, voice rough. You obeyed. The moan he let out as he pressed his lips to yours again was the most lewd sound you’d ever heard. Your tongues entwined, the taste of his seed mingling with saliva. It was gross, but in the best way. You made him like this, was the thought that shot through your mind, you made him gross and lose control. And you did all of that just by being you.
Teeth clashed and you winced, but he barely seemed to notice. He was so rough, so uncoordinated, yet it was the hottest thing you ever felt. Spirals and sparks of heat radiated in your belly. The hand in your hair let go, to great relief, and wrapped around your throat instead. The kiss grew fiercer still. He consumed you. All of you. His teeth tugged at your lips, nipping harshly enough for small stings of pain, but they were soothed over with the warmth of his tongue. His nose pressed against your face with how far he leant into you, how harshly he pulled your face against his.
This hunger was a world away from his earlier disgust.
When he let go, his pupils were blown wide, his cheeks flushed, passionate and heated. He wiped the cum from his nose and lips, and licked it from his gloved fingers. Your eyes fluttered just at the sight of him. And it was you who caused this, who brought out this side of him, all dishevelled, messy, stained… All for you.
“It seems you do know your place well, dear librarian. How about a reward, then? Do you think you deserve one?”
All you could do was nod.
He pushed you back until your ass hit your desk, and he lifted you up until you were seated. “Legs wide. Good girl.” He spread your thighs as he stood between them. His gloved fingers dragged over the sensitive skin of your innermost thigh. You were positively throbbing. Have you ever felt arousal this strong while completely untouched? You hated him for it.
“Please, Mr. Malfoy,” you whimpered, already growing impatient.
Tugging at the cotton of your panties, he said, not a question, but an order: “Why don’t you take those off for me.”
You stumbled to comply. Before you could say anything, he silenced you by sliding two fingers in your mouth, and you wet them without being prompted to. The leather tasted like his cum, bitter. The texture was pleasant on your tongue. He hummed, pleased, as he slid his fingers out.
“Who knew you’d be such a quick student? But then again, they do say librarians have a wide variety of knowledge.” And his finger found your clit. “How’s that?”
You whined sharply as he increased the pressure, but didn’t move his fingers, still depriving me of the friction I craved.
“Or rather here?” and he slid his fingers to your slit, dipping in, before moving back up, bringing the slick with them. “Aren’t you a wet little slut.”
His middle finger slid in to the knuckle, with embarrassing ease. You moaned softly, brow furrowing. It felt right. So right. So perfect. This is what you were made for, for such a feeling, of being filled, of being used by a man as beautiful as Lucius Malfoy. Your eyes locked and your heart skipped a beat at the intensity of his stare.
“What a sensitive young woman you are,” he said, voice soft, yet with a darkness to it. “No one’s touched you this good before. And no one will, after.”
He pulled his finger almost out, then pushed it back in, setting himself a slow and deep rhythm, curling it deep inside. Each time he hit that spot inside, your gasps and moans became a little higher, a little more desperate. You clung onto his shoulders, and he leaned so close your noses touched.
“You look quite beautiful like this… Who knew it would be this fun to put a librarian in her place?” it almost seemed he talked to himself moreso than to you. One finger became two, but his pace remained the same. Steady, in, out, in, curling, out. The drag of his gloves made it even better, and when you looked down, they were wet and creamy from how wet you were. You whimpered as he followed your line of sight, and slammed back in harder. And harder. Now that his pace was steadily increasing, so were the sensations, growing hotter quick. He tipped you over the edge and you nearly screeched – but he kept going, the orgasm prolonging itself until you reached a second high, so high it was painful - and he moaned along with you, slowing but not pulling out. When he finally stilled, both of your breaths were sharp, as though you’d just ran up five flights of stairs. He kissed you again, messily, as he pumped in and out just a few more times, enjoying the twitches of your aftershocks.
“What a good girl,” he purred, and he pulled out. The feeling of emptiness was jarring and you clenched around nothing. His fingers slipped past your lips, and you sucked them clean obediently. “What a good girl,” he repeated, with emphasis and a fond undertone. “Perhaps there’s hope for you yet.”
Even after coming down from the orgasm, the hazy feeling stayed, making your head swim as you looked at the man in front of you. He kissed you again, and it was borderline uncomfortable with the drying cum still on your face. He was softer, a wet kiss, he was savouring you.
“I dearly hope this isn’t the last I’ll see of you, my sweet librarian,” he said, and before he left, with a wave of his wand, he grabbed your panties and left with a last, lingering look over his shoulder. “Although I expect you to behave from now on.”
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Before you went to sleep that night, you replayed what happened over and over again, and despite the unsatisfiable desire, there was also anger. This man has a wife! You were livid. How could he do this? Not even the degradation – but that you let yourself be treated like that by a man who has a wife!
The next day, during your lunchbreak, the largest bouquet of roses you had ever seen was delivered to the library. There must’ve been more flowers in it than in the entire flower shop in Hogsmeade. The ridiculous arrangement sat on the desk, crowding over all the books. The delivery witch had you sign for them, but refused to tell you who they were from. You shook your head, as you sank down on your chair, staring at them. You didn’t have a vase big enough.
While you were preparing and cutting the stems, you found a note. ‘L. M.’ Was all it said and it filled you with annoyance.
Lucius. Your eyes shot fire at the mention of his name. How dare he play this off in this way. What a condescending gesture, to buy you roses just to stake some sort of claim on you. To remind you of what the two of you did the day before, to keep you in line. Resolutely, you throw the note in the paper bin. Perhaps you should send him a note too, and tell him to save those roses for his wife.
Now what? This many wouldn’t even fit in any garbage bin - not without attracting a horrible amount of attention. Perfectly pristine flowers thrown away would cause enough drama, more than keeping them would. So you, sigh, and continue trimming the stems, getting your anger out with each snip. There was enough to set a few flowers in small vases, or mugs, when those ran out, on each table in the library. The anger had faded by the time it was done, and you looked out over the suddenly very colourful library. Who will water them each morning? You’d never get around to your actual job like this.
What was left of the encounter, was that nagging feeling, of being special. Special enough to have watched such a powerful man as Lucius Malfoy become undone. You smiled softly as you stacked several returned books in your arms. Perhaps this wasn’t over yet.
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marlsswrites · 2 months
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Barty Crouch Jr is the type to say the most unhinged, dark, disturbing thing ever and then just shout, “WOAHH WHO SAID THAT??”
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mrsriddlenott · 8 months
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Ex!Mattheo Riddle x Muggleborn!Reader
Angsty asf,Break Ups, Language, Voldemort, Wizarding War.
Summary: You and Mattheo were just wrong for each other, destined to be ripped apart. He hurt you trying to protect you, and even apart is trying to protect you still, but he can’t think of everything.
“We’re done okay, I am done. I don’t want this anymore Mattheo,” You screamed as he stopped, shocked in front of you, “I can’t keep doing this.”
“What are you- you’re not saying….” You scoffed as he approached you again, stepping back so he couldn’t touch you like he so desperately wanted to. “You can’t be serious y/n we basically just started.”
“No we didn’t! That’s the fucking problem, we’ve been doing this for months and I thought it meant something to you and then I find out your friends don’t even know who I am??” You scoffed, rolling your eyes and crossing your arms as he tried to speak, “You wasted my time, if you wanted to just be fuck buddies I’d have been fine with that and I would have kept it a secret for you if you asked but you made me feel like…..” You laughed at your own stupidity as you turned away from Mattheo’s pleading eyes.
“Princess I didn’t just-“ You cut him off before he could finish, turning back around yelling as tears welled in your eyes, “You lied to me Mattheo, you said you wanted something real, you told me you wanted someone you could trust and that you had finally found someone and all along you were the untrustworthy one!” Mattheo’s hands fell to his sides as he tried to form words, but nothing would come out.
“Were you embarrassed of me?! Is that why? Did you feel like all your rich, perfect friends would hate you for being with me or did you just want me for fun until you needed to find the pureblood future wife your father expects you to have!?” You breathed heavily as you registered your words, his eyes shone with tears at the mention of his father and only locked on yours for a second before turning to your door and tugging it open.
Mattheo stopped, weighing the odds before turning back to you with tears in his eyes, “I’d much rather marry you….but that can’t happen because he won’t allow it. I guess we did waste our time after all.” And in a matter of seconds he was gone, from the dorm, the school, from your life, no one actually knew were he went but there were rumors he left to join his father’s cause, which you just couldn’t allow yourself to think were true.
It had been weeks since you last saw his face or heard his voice, after months of seeing each other in every second of free time it hurt to wake to the reminder that you were alone. But today was different, when you dressed and returned to your bed after a morning shower a neat envelope awaited your arrival, you recognized his hand writing immediately and tore it open.
Y/n, I’m sorry. I can’t take back what I’ve done now, when you hear it you’re going to hate me and the thought breaks me. Please don’t blame yourself because I had to, I could never let him hurt you and despite everything I did to keep you safe he found out about you. He made me do things I can’t say here, things I see in my dreams on nights you stray from them but I promise one day you will be happy and safe. I will give up my life to make it so.
Tears blurred your vision as you tried to fathom what Mattheo had done, what his father could have forced him to do. What he had done to protect you. You crashed to your knees, sobbing and wishing you could somehow get a timeturner to go back to that night, beg him to stay, apologize for being so stupid. Of course he had kept you a secret for your own protection, the son of Voldemort couldn’t be walking around with a Muggleborn Hufflepuff who could barley pass by. He had kept his friends in the dark so they couldn’t tell anyone, he had snuck you around the school, not because he was ashamed, but because he wanted you safe. You had to get him back, no matter what he did in his father’s name he was yours and you were his, always.
By the next week everyone had heard the stories, Muggle and Muggleborns being tortured, “traitors” to the cause being executed, you didn’t know if he was involved, not for sure but a part of you knew. There were signs, people whispering about a new lord in training, a new way for Voldemort to gain power using his son as a weapon. It wasn’t long before most of Mattheo’s friends had gone too, making it all the more obvious where he had gone. It hurt you more to know he was doing it for you, every name of the missing and dead reminded you it was all to protect you. You began to lose hope that you’d ever see him again, that he was lost, forever his father’s minion.
You sat with your back against the cold stone wall of the astronomy tower, letting the smoke of an un-hit cigarette waft past you as you lost yourself in a deep thought. You had been having trouble sleeping, imaging the awful things being done to Mattheo and by Mattheo was bad enough but it only got worse at night. You’d found yourself gravitating to Mattheo’s spot often these days, and you couldn’t stop yourself from wondering what life would be like in a few months. You’d be gone from Hogwarts for good, and who knew what that meant for you now, you had just begun to imagine leaving into the world alone when the sound of rushed footsteps caught you off guard, but not more than the voice that came with the halt of shoes on marble, “What the fuck are you doing here?! I thought you’d be in your dorm,” He spun around to watch the door, cursing to himself as though a plan had gone terribly wrong, and you supposed it had.
He looked tired, his hair disheveled with large bags under his eyes and his voice seemed different, harder, “You need to get the fuck up now and run, just go hide somewhere please if they see you they’ll” He was cut off by the sound of more boots quickly ascending the steps up the tower before he was grabbing you and aggressively trying to shove you into a closet too late.
“There’s the girl,” a gruff male voice shouted as the door swung open, “Knew if we followed you we’d find her.” Mattheo’s head hung as his voice broke, “no, no, I didn’t do it all for nothing.” He turned quickly, his arms out and blocking you body with his, “He can’t have her, I did everything he asked.”
“Clearly not since you’re here,” a second, larger man, cackled out, “Didn’t Daddy tell you to sit tight up in your mansion Pretty Boy.” The man laughed as though he was the funniest man alive as everyone stared back and forth, recognizing all four of us wouldn’t be leaving this room if things didn’t go as planned. “He can’t have her.” Mattheo spat again, with less conviction.
“Well you know the deal Handsome, and the Dark Lord is tired of waiting on your decision, you take the mark, we leave this pretty little thing alone and you never speak to her again….if not we have orders to make her death last awhile.” You flinched behind Mattheo’s muscular frame, not at your impending, excruciating death, but at the thought of Mattheo officially joining the ranks of the Death Eaters. If he had the mark there was no way out, no convincing the courts to spare him, even if he survived after all he had done that mark is a one way ticket to a Dementor’s Kiss. “No Mattheo you can’t”
Mattheo turned to you as your voice shook, tears falling down both your faces as he grabbed your cheeks tightly, kissing you as though you were air and he was hyperventilating. His head rested on your forehead as he thumbed your tears away, “I don’t have a choice Baby, I love you and I always will.” He tugged you into his arms, his lips next to your ear as he whispered low enough just for you to hear, “I am going to do everything in my power to come home to you, but I want you to live your life, when you get out of here run and forget me, become a Healer like you wanted and know I’m looking out for you.” He slipped away from you, leaving one final kiss on your temple before he was tugged from the room and from your life.
And you knew, from your safety, that he had taken the mark and would eventually take his father’s place as the Dark Lord if the war didn’t end soon. Maybe then, with all that power, he could end the war and return to you, a fantasy that gave you hope in the darkest days of the war.
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myrows · 1 year
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Sirius Black - Azkaban- 1981
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fanfictiondramione · 2 months
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You were born bluer than a butterfly Beautiful and so deprived of oxygen Colder than your father's eyes He never learned to sympathize with anyone
I don't blame you But I can't change you Don't hate you But we can't save you
You were born reaching for your mother's hands Victim of your father's plans to rule the world Too afraid to step outside Paranoid and petrified of what you've heard
(But they could say the same 'bout me)
[Blue by Billie Eilish]
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luv4freddie · 8 months
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The Mark - D.M
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Reader comforts Draco after he gets the dark mark
Exactly what you think it’s gonna be like. Tragic backstory, mentions of voldy and war, so sad, angst/comfort, 776 words
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Draco Malfoy was tired.
He was exhausted, yes. But he was tired of being the man of the family. He was tired of being a Malfoy heir, of being forced into boxes in order to make his family proud.
And now it was too late.
He laid in his four poster bed, fighting against the tears blooming behind his eyes and the stinging sensation on his forearm.
He shivered— he felt dirty. Disgusting in a way that wouldn’t wash out no matter how many times he scrubbed the spot where bony white fingers had grasped his arm.
He wanted to kick and scream like a toddler, but even now he couldn’t express the emotions building up in his chest— adrenaline, shame, fear, all joining in on his downfall.
He laid unresponsive, too tired to move but unable to fall asleep.
He can still hear his mother crying downstairs. She hadn’t stopped since the Dark Lord had left the manor, and taken her sons innocence and choice along with him.
Draco faintly registers the smell of smoke and a tumbling sound, but he makes no attempt to investigate, chalking it up to a clumsy house elf.
At least until he hears your voice.
“Dray?” It’s gentle in a way that makes all of his emotions perk up, fighting their way to his face as he finally moves; sitting up to face where you stand, freshly out of his fireplace.
He wants to talk— ask what you’re doing here, how you got there, if you still love him— but instead the most embarrassing thing happens.
Draco Malfoy starts crying.
Draco has not cried since third year, but a single look at you has him sobbing out into the stillness of the house.
Within seconds you’re next to him, pulling him into your chest and stroking his hair while you mumble reassurances into his ear.
He cries for a long time, giving his mother a run for her money with the his sobs echo off the walls, the silencing charm you’d put up to shield him from Narcissa’s ears only making them reverberate louder.
By the time he’s finally calmed down his voice is raspy and his eyes are bloodshot.
“They’re monitoring floo.”
“I know,” you hush him, “but that’s for the order members. They won’t care about us. They probably think I’m just sneaking out to smog you.”
He lets out a chuckle, but it’s airy and there’s no real humor in it.
He wants to tell you. But at the same time, he’s terrified that you’re going to be disgusted— that you’d get up and leave him just like everyone else when he inevitably disappoints.
You notice he subconsciously fiddles with the edge of his sleeve, and you grab his hand, bringing it up to place a kiss on his fingers.
“I know already.”
You want to cry with the amount of fear in his eyes when they meet yours.
“You- how?”
“Your mom was talking to mine about it.”
He lets out a scoff, “it’s a miracle she can get anything out with the way she’s been crying.”
You sigh, “can you blame her?”
“I’m the one that got branded, why’s she crying?”
You smooth a gentle finger over his sleeve, hating the way he flinches.
“Because you’re now a part of this war, a bigger part than anyone your age should ever be.”
He buries further into you, tucking his head into the crook of your neck and appreciating the way you wrap your arms around him, squeezing just enough to press your bodies into each other.
“Do you still love me?”
His voice is so small and hidden from where he’s laying, but you hear it nonetheless, and your heart shatters into a billion tiny pieces at the vulnerability and disappointment in it.
He’s expecting you to say no.
Instead, you grab his arm, bringing it up to where you can see it. At first he refuses to let you move his sleeve, but he quickly tires, watching your every move with droopy eyes and resigned interest.
He inhales sharply when you do it— roll his sleeve up and press a soft kiss directly onto the middle of the mark, right where the snake winds around the mouth.
“The Dark Lord himself couldn’t make me stop loving you, Draco Malfoy. This doesn’t change who you are.”
He breathes a small sigh of relief.
He was still a death eater, still an heir, and still guilty—but you loved him, and you weren’t going to leave him because of it.
So maybe— just maybe— he could survive this war. As long as you were here
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