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obsessedwithceleste · 10 months ago

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Theodore Nott and the Fortress of Trust Issues: how to cast a patronus in 3 easy steps

Theodore Nott x reader

Summary: Theodore Nott had never been able to cast a patronus. In third year, when dementors were swarming the castle, of course he tried, but was never able to manage more than a whisp of soft silver. Come seventh year, he was painfully unsurprised when his efforts were once again lack luster. Turns out, with the right tutor, casting the formidable charm might not be as impossible as he thought.

word count: 3.8k

©️ obsessedwithceleste. all works posted here belong to me and should not be reposted or copied in any way or form.

Theodore glowered menacingly at the students below him chattering happily amongst themselves in the courtyard. A puff of smoke slipping through his lips as he leaned on the railing of the astronomy tower. Theo knew his life wasn’t exactly one that most would be envious of. Sure his family had money, power, but add on a mother who had died far before her time, and a death eater father whose attention it was far better to avoid? Theo laughed dryly to himself.

Theo knew he didn’t have many happy memories. Truly happy memories. He was painfully, excruciatingly, self aware. Still, nothing made it quite so glaringly obvious that his life was rather pathetic than broadcasting to his entire charms class his bitter inability to force even a wisp of silvery bloody smoke out of his bloody wand. Yes. Flitwick had finally found his weakness. That damned Patronus spell. Being one of the top students of his year, it was humiliating. It wasn’t even expected that most of the class would be able to cast a corporeal patronus, yet even Draco and Matteo of all people managed to produce soft billowy clouds of silvery magic.

Theo shook his head at the thought, trying to clear his mind. His eyes once again began gazing about the courtyard before landing on a lone figure sitting beneath a willow tree, hidden from view unless one was looking close enough. Theo brought his smoke to his lips once more, inhaling deeply as he watched a burst of silver leave the tip of the girl’s wand. His eyes darkened with envy, remembering the words of his professor from earlier that day.

“Wonderful, y/n. Just wonderful! A fox! Withdrawn when necessary, but natural adaptors. Embodying intelligence, independence, mischief, and beauty. A unique patronus indeed.”

His eyes narrowed as he watched the silver creature trot happily through the air before turning and dropping his cigarette to the ground, stomping on it harshly. With one last glance at the girl sitting awestruck with her silvery companion, he descended down the stairs, determined to spend the rest of his night, moping in peace.

Step 1: Find a Pretty Tutor (read: have a tutor forced upon you under the threat of a failing grade.)

“What do you mean a tutor? You of all people?” Matteo laughs mercilessly as Theo scowls at him. “Can’t believe I��m doing better than you in a class, you must be bloody miffed.”

Theo tuned out his friend’s laughter as he continued to glower at the floor in front of him. The two boys currently sat in the Slytherin common room as Theo hastily tried to finish up his ancient runes homework before dragging his arse to the library to meet his supposed tutor. Matteo was making this quite difficult however as he continued to poke fun at the boy, rattling on about how, for once, Theo had had the nerve to not be good at something. The horror.

Snapping his textbook closed and sliding it into his book bag, Theo began gathering his things, choosing to forego the blasted assignment.

“Aww, have fun with you little tutor Teddy. Maybe it’ll be that foxy Ravenclaw you’re always staring at. Bit ironic that her patronus is a fox innit?” Matteo teases as he watches his friend’s jaw clench at the mention of the pretty girl.

While perhaps Matteo wasn’t the most entirely perceptive of the bunch, it would take a blind man to not notice Theodore’s eyes flicker over to the group of Ravenclaws throughout their shared charms class.

“Shut up Matt. Shouldn’t you be shagging Astoria in a broom closet somewhere?” He grunts out.

Matteo smirks, knowing he’d found a tick, but deciding to leave it for another time.

“Not a bad idea mate, see you later. You’ll have to tell Enzo and I all about your tutoring session tonight,” he says with a wink before sauntering off towards the girl’s dormitories.

With a heavy sigh, Theo began making his way slowly towards the library, silently cursing Professor Flitwick as he recalled their conversation from earlier that day.

Class was finally wrapping up for the day and Theo was about ready to bolt out of that blasted classroom, but Flitwick had other ideas.

“Mr. Nott? A word?” He’s called from his grand podium in the center of the room.

The summons had garnered a few raised eyebrows and surprised looks from his fellow classmates, and Theo had trudged solemnly up to the professor.

“I couldn’t help but notice that you appeared to have had some difficulty today,” the professor and stated rather bluntly after all the other students had shuffled out.

Theo blinked back up at his professor.

“You do understand of course, that I cannot grant marks for a spell you did not perform?” He asks finally.

Theo once again stares blankly back at the professor.

Appearing to grow uncomfortable under the boy’s steady, unwavering gaze, Flitwick lets out a deep sigh.

“Mr. Nott. I’m aware that you are quite the talented young wizard, and I simply do not want to have to give you low marks on an assignment I’m confident you could perform well on.”

Still nothing from the brown haired Slytherin.

“I’ve arranged for you to begin working with a tutor until you’re able to cast the spell.” He says finally.

Theo frowns. He’s never had a tutor before. Never needed one.

“Professor-“ he begins to protest.

“The two of you can begin later this evening. 8 o’clock in the library,” Flitwick interrupts before shooing him off to his next class.

Finally arriving outside the library doors, Theo made another look of distaste before pushing through the large double doors. His eyes gazed over the tables not entirely sure who he was looking for as the twat had never actually told him who would be tutoring him. He felt his body freeze momentarily when his eyes locked with another pair of bright eyes and he began silently cursing Matteo. The bloody fucking bastard had jinxed him.

You sat quietly at your table in the library, waiting for the clock to slowly hit 8 as you mindlessly worked away at your essay for ancient runes. During charms today, Flitwick had noticed one of your classmates have a particularly difficult time with the lesson and asked for you to guide them in the right direction. Not one to argue with your head of house, you’d easily agreed.

As the clock struck 8, you began casting quick glances every so often at the library doors, until suddenly you were locked in the gaze of none other than Theodore Nott. Surely he wasn’t the one you would be tutoring? You didn’t know the boy particularly well, but you did know that he was a fierce competitor for top of the class in most of your other lessons. You watched silently as he made his way over to your table, offering him a small smile.

“Charms?” He asks, tossing his bag onto the table with a gentle thud.

You give him a slight nod, eyeing his tall figure as he sat lazily across from you.

“Well I’m sorry to break it to you, but you’ll be wasting your time. Never been able to cast the damn spell. Probably never will,” he says, leaning back on the chair, eyes not wavering.

You purse your lips. Looking at the handsome boy in front of you.

“I suppose you’ll just have to trust me then, won’t you?” You reply, a challenging tone apparent in your voice.

The boy smirks at this, cocking his head as if really getting a good look at you for the first time before finally replying, “I’ve never been particularly trusting.”

“Well then I guess you’ll be learning all sorts of things.”

You take your charms book out of your bag, opening it to the reading you had been assigned earlier in the week. You glance up to see Theodore mirroring your actions silently.

“A patronus, is a concentration of pure happiness and hope, derived from the recollection of a single talisman memory which is essential in its creation,” you read, the underlined section of the textbook was one you had pre-selected as it was the concept most people struggled to grasp.

Watching Theo stiffen and clench his jaw slightly, you knew you were right.

“When someone is unable to cast a patronus, I’ve found it’s usually because they haven’t figured out yet how to focus in on their talisman memory,” you continue.

“And if someone doesn’t have a talisman memory?” Theo’s voice interrupts.

You glance up at him in surprise.

“Everyone has a talisman memory. We just need to find it.”

“I don’t have one.” He insists.

“Then we’ll make one.”

The boy sighs in frustration. Fists clenching as he glares at the textbook in front of him.

“It might not be as complicated as you’re making it. I know when Flitwick was in class, he made it seem like your talisman memory had to be a big, grande gesture, or a clear moment of inexplicable joy. But I think the little moments count too. Everyone has been happy at least once,” you say, watching as Theo slowly relaxes.

“What do you think about?” He asks, before quickly back tracking “You don’t have to answer that.”

“All sorts of things really,” you reply, offering another small smile. “When I got my first wand at Ollivander’s. Honeydukes with the rest of the Ravenclaws. Playing quidditch. Specially that time we beat Gryffindor.”

Theo snorts at that, a small grin reaching his lips.

“Point is, it doesn’t matter how small the moment is, long as it made you happy.”

You’re met with silence, as Theo continues to stare down at his textbook, a look a deep contemplation on his face.

“Think that’s enough for today. Flitwick said to keep up the sessions until you’re at least able to cast an incorporeal patronus, so, I suppose I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Theo nods his head, still not meeting your gaze.

“Does 6 o’clock on the lawn work?” You ask, only to be met with another nod.

Sensing the boy needed a bit of space, you quickly gathered your things before leaving the boy to his thoughts.

Step 2: Accidentally Fall In Love with Your Tutor (if you weren’t half way there already.)

You sit staring out at the vast lake in front of you, watching as the breeze pushed against the water, forming rolling waves across the surface and taking a deep breath in. You had been meeting Theodore here every day at 6 o’clock sharp for almost two whole weeks now, but you honestly weren’t sure if he’d show up today. Not that you’d blame him.

You felt as if you’d really failed him as a tutor after so many consecutive days of work, with nothing to show for it. On top of that, the two of you had gotten into a rather intense shouting match yesterday, the stress of the whole thing really getting to the both of you.

You lean back, laying down on the soft blanket below you, knees still propped up, and close your eyes, thinking back to the first time the two of you had met out in this very spot. You’d originally picked the spot, because it helped you clear your mind and you thought it might help clear Theo’s too.

That first day had been awkward. Almost painfully so. You had simply wanted to talk. Get to know the boy, pick his brain for any source of happiness or joy he might get out of life. You didn’t get much, so instead you talked about your own life. What it was like living in Ravenclaw tower, the time you and Cho had tried out together for the quidditch team. You told him how you had gone to the Yule ball with a big group of friends, and how you thought it was much better than going with some stuffy date, and how your favorite candies were the purple taffies from Honeydukes, and your favorite flowers were deadly poisonous despite their pretty and innocent appearance.

The second day, you borrowed Cho’s cat and brought her along to the meeting, thinking it might help further relax your brown haired companion. It did, so you brought her along the next day, and the day after that. It wasn’t until the fourth day that Theo broke. Sure he had told you a bit about his time at Hogwarts. Playing on Slytherin’s quidditch team. Sharing a dorm with Matteo Riddle and Lorenzo Berkshire. But on the fourth day, he told you about his mother. You weren’t expecting it, and it honestly had caught you wildly off guard. Theodore’s mother had been the light of his world, and after she was gone, you could understand why he thought he would never cast a patronus.

It went on like this, the two of you gradually becoming closer, as you carefully began building a sort of trust between the two of you. You thought you might even be becoming friends; which excited you as you’d never been quite able to stop your eyes from wandering over to the group of Slytherins in the back of the class, and stopping on the tall, brunette boy with pretty eyes. You tried every couple of days to cast the spell, guiding him through different memories, trying to focus in on different experiences. But still nothing. You had even tried inviting Matteo and Enzo to a session, hoping they’d help lighten his mood, but it only ended in the four of you skiving wildly off course and getting nothing done. You and Theo had laughed about it the next day, but still not even a whisp of silvery magic.

It had all come to a head yesterday. You could feel the two of you beginning to lose hope, but you were nothing if not determined. The two of you were sitting quietly, skimming the textbook for what seemed like the thousandth time, when Theo suddenly stopped and looked up at you.

“I read something the other day. Bout patronuses. And being able to cast em.”

You looked up from your reading, intrigued.

“Said that there’s a widespread, and justified, belief that witches and wizards who aren’t pure of heart can’t cast a patronus.”

Your mouth slowly formed an O shape, and the book you were holding dropped to the ground, completely forgotten.

“Theodore. You don’t honestly think. That’s ridiculous.”

“It makes sense doesn’t it? Why I can’t even cast an incorporeal charm. Why nothing we’ve tried works. There’s no point,” Theo had said, growing frustrated.

“Theodore stop. That theory is all nonsense. There isn’t even any evidence really to back it up,” you reply.

“Why else would nothing be working?” Theo asks, slamming his book on the ground.

“Theo!”

“No, y/n, honestly. What other explanation could there be. We’ve been doing this for weeks.” Theo’s voice began to rise.

“And we’ll continue until you’re able to get this.”

“What’s the bloody point? We’ve tried everything!”

“And we just need to try a bit harder!” You respond.

“You think I haven’t been trying?”

“Of course I know you’ve been trying! And I’ve been trying to do everything I can to help you succeed!”

“And everything I’ve been doing is for you! I don’t care about the bloody charm, I don’t want to disappoint you!”

Theo’s outburst had shocked you, and your breath hitched as the two of you stared at each other, Theo’s words sinking in.

Then he was kissing you. Hot lips working against yours as he pulled you onto his lap. Your fingers worked their way up to his hair, relishing in how soft his brown waves were as you tugged at them gently.

You let out a soft moan as you felt his tongue glide gently across your bottom lip before diving in at the opportunity you had provided him.

You seemed to get lost in the feeling of his soft lips and large hands around your waist holding you firmly in place. You had no idea how much time had passed by the time you were both panting for breath, foreheads resting against one another.

Seeming to really realize what he’d done, Theo looked down at you, eyes beginning to widen slightly.

“I’m so sorry, y/n,” he’d said before promptly rising and hastily making his way back to the castle.

Now, your finger tips softly brushed the soft leather of Theo’s book bag that he’d abandoned yesterday in his hurry to leave. You thought that maybe, if for no other reason, he’d perhaps come to retrieve it. Not that he needed to you thought dryly, knowing that with his Gringotts account, he could’ve easily already replaced it and its contents.

Sitting up, you glance at your time piece showing a quarter after 6. With a deep sigh, you fish your transfiguration textbook out of your bag, flipping it open to begin your assigned reading. You’re only a few pages in when a twig snaps somewhere behind you. Whipping around, you see him standing there, handsome as ever, looking down at you.

“Sorry I’m late. And, sorry for yesterday,” he mumbles, dropping down to sit next to you.

You eye him warily as he refuses to make eye contact with you, eyes appearing to be glazed over as he gazes out at the lake like you had been earlier.

Slowly, and ever so carefully, you shift next to him so that your arms and legs brush softly, and you gently lean your head against his shoulder as you join him in looking out at the water. You feel him tense initially before slowly relaxing, leaning in as the two of you sat in silence.

“I won’t give up, if you don’t,” you say finally as Theo’s hand finds yours.

Step 3: Trust

It had been a week now since that day at the lake, and you weren’t quite sure where you stood anymore with Theo. You still met each other everyday by the lake, slipping easily into your usual banter. But now it was eyes meeting from across the classroom and slips of paper making their way back and forth. Your fingertips would brush softly in the hallways, and sometimes, you’d feel a hand reach out, pulling you into a hidden nook, and warm lips would meet your own. But you’d never actually, talked, about it.

You shake the thoughts out of your mind, a shiver running down your spine, as you focus in on the present. That all wasn’t the reason you once again found yourself lying out on the lawn, Theo’s head resting comfortably in your lap.

“Can you cast it?” Theo asks, looking up at you.

“Hmm?”

“Your patronus? Can you cast it? I know yours is a full, corporeal form.”

Looking down at the boy, your fingers weave slowly through his hair as you reach for your wand.

Closing your eyes and taking a breath, you focus in, memories flashing through your mind, a sense of warmth overtaking you.

“Expecto patronum.” The spell falls from your lips and you open your eyes to see a silver fox tumble out of the tip of your wand before trotting through the air around you.

You really did love the spell and it amazed and intrigued you every time. A reflection of someone’s soul, your textbook had said. It could change throughout one’s life, should they experience a shocking event, grow more mature, fall in love. The last one had always been the most curious, the idea of someone loving so much, that a piece of their soul reflected that of their loved one.

You watch as Theo’s eyes follow the the creature in awe.

“You know this is hopeless right?” Theo asks softly, your hand in his hair freezing.

“Theodore. We agreed that-“

“But really what’s the point? So I get one poor mark. When am I ever going to need to use the spell really? No point in wasting time on something that’s hopeless.”

You carefully mull over Theo’s words in your head. You supposed that realistically, he wasn’t necessarily wrong practicality wise. But if you both simply gave up, would he ever want to see you again? You knew in your core that it was selfish, but the last three weeks really had been some of the best during your time at Hogwarts. Which was saying a bit considering you’d been there for almost seven years. You supposed you’d just hoped- hoped. Hopeless, hopeless, hopeless. Hope. A concentration of pure happiness and hope.

“Theodore?”

“Amore?”

“When you’re thinking of your happy memory, why did you choose it?”

Theo gives you a strange look.

“Because it made me happy at the time, and the talisman memory is supposed to be a happy.”

“Good. But can you tell me why it’s so important to focus on a happy memory?”

Theo blinks.

“Because the spell says so.”

You let out a small laugh.

“Because the whole point of the charm is to create protection from the dark. Something that will keep you safe so that you can continue to feel that happiness. To give you hope.”

Theo furrows his eyebrows and frowns.

“This feels emotional.” He says, his face distorting in disgust.

“Sometimes magic is.”

Theo’s frown deepens. “It shouldn’t be. I’m perfectly content being apathetic and emotionally detached thanks.”

You let out a small snort. “Come on Theo. Try it again. But this time, think about your memory and why you want to feel that again.”

Theo’s face scrunches up in distaste before he sits up lazily, picking up his wand. You watch as he closes his eyes, pausing. His chest slowly rises then falls, once, twice.

“Expecto patronum.”

Nothing. Theo let’s put an annoyed sigh.

“Hey, it’s okay. You can try again. Think about something that you love, make sure you can picture it clearly. Something that made you so happy that you would relive it over and over.”

Theo’s eyes flick over to you, a brow raised before he closes his eyes once again. You watch him closely, perhaps too closely, as a minute passes. Then two. You’re almost worried he’s fallen asleep sitting up when the words fall from his lips.

“Expecto patronum.”

A burst of silver flashes out of his wand, and your jaw drops as your eyes follow the silver creature that had emerged, gracefully moving across the lawn.

Your eyes dart over to Theo, and you reach out to grab his arm seeing that he’d not yet opened his eyes again. When his eyes finally open once more, his gaze immediately falls on the whimsical creature, eyes widening slightly as he stares at his patronus in disbelief before looking at you with bewildered confusion.

“That’s not mine.” You tell him with a small smile, giving his arm a squeeze as you both look up at the silver fox dancing through the air.

#harry potter #harry potter universe #slytherin #slytherin boys #draco malfoy #lorenzo berkshire #matteo riddle #theodore nott #theo nott x y/n #theodore nott x y/n #theo nott x reader #theodore nott x reader #theo nott fanfiction #theodore nott fanfiction #patronus #hogwarts au #astoria greengrass #theo nott

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tomriddleslove · 7 months ago

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Obliviate.

✩ Mattheo Riddle x Reader angst

Summary: The one where tensions are running higher, and everyone has to pick a side. You promised to stick by one another, but a stupid oath you made when you first met threatens to drive that apart. Alternatively: If you love her, then you have to let her go.

A/N: If you don’t listen to the recommended song when reading this i will fight you 🤺🤺

Song: Goodbye - Billie Eilish

The Daily Prophet

Unrest Brews as Dark Forces Loom

By Rita Skeeter

In a disturbing turn of events, Diagon Alley was rocked by an unprecedented attack last night, sending shockwaves throughout the wizarding community. Witnesses reported seeing a group of hooded figures, suspected to be Death Eaters, descending upon the famous magical thoroughfare with malicious intent.

The Flourish and Blotts bookstore bore the brunt of the assault, with its windows shattered and shelves overturned. Several nearby shops, including Ollivanders Wand Shop and Eeylops Owl Emporium, also sustained significant damage.

"I've never seen anything like it," said Horace Slughorn, a retired Potions Master who happened to be in the area during the attack. "It was pure pandemonium. People were running for cover, spells flying everywhere. It was like a scene out of the darkest days of the last wizarding war."

Ministry of Magic officials were quick to respond to the scene, deploying Aurors and members of the Magical Law Enforcement Patrol to contain the situation. However, the attackers managed to evade capture, leaving behind a trail of destruction and instilling fear in the hearts of many.

The Minister for Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt, condemned the attack in the strongest terms, vowing to apprehend those responsible and bring them to justice.

"We will not tolerate such brazen acts of violence in our society," Minister Shacklebolt declared in a statement issued this morning. "The Ministry is fully committed to ensuring the safety and security of all witches and wizards, and we will spare no effort in our pursuit of these criminals."

The attack on Diagon Alley serves as a grim reminder of the growing threat posed by Voldemort's followers, who have been emboldened in recent months by reports of their dark lord's rumoured return. With tensions running high and fear gripping the wizarding world, many are left wondering what the future holds in this time of uncertainty.

You frown as you observe Mattheo, watching as he tosses the paper down onto the table in front of you with a huff. The tension in his face has become increasingly evident over the past few weeks, and you've begun to forget what Mattheo looks like when he isn't frowning.

You wrap your arms around his arm, leaning in close to him as you speak quietly.

“Hey. It’s alright,” You reassure, pressing a light kiss to his shoulder. He doesn’t tear his gaze away from the fireplace, a small huff of both frustration and amusement escaping his lips as he clenches his jaw, nodding.

“It’s alright.” He scoffs, chewing on the inside of his cheek.

It’s alright? No, it wasn’t alright. His father was a murderous lunatic who was about to trigger the second wizarding war. He had to sit back and watch his own friend get tortured for hours for failing to complete a task. He can't close his eyes without seeing Theodore writhing in pain on the floor.

Mattheo was expected to fight with them. The time would come, that was for certain. Mattheo would have to stand there, and raise his wand against the people he's shared a dorm with and sat in class with.

Hell, he would be expected to raise his wand against you.

“They always say this, Mattheo. They’ve been saying it for years, and nothing has happened.” You say, but even you can see how pathetic it sounds. Despite your efforts to comfort him, it's clear that his mind is elsewhere, consumed by the looming threat of war and the impossible choices he may soon be forced to make.

Mattheo finally tears his gaze away from the fireplace, his eyes meeting yours. Your breath hitches, the sheer look of sorrow in his eyes enough to shatter your heart into a million little pieces.

"I don't want to drag you into this," he confesses, his voice raw with emotion. "You deserve better than to be caught up in my mess."

Your heart sinks as you realize where this conversation is headed. "Mattheo, please," you plead, the fear in your voice palpable, "don't do this. Don't shut me out."

But he shakes his head, his expression pained. "I have to," he whispers, his voice barely audible. "Remember our promise?"

Mattheo looks up when he sees you sit next to him, a wide grin on your face as you unpack your bag.

He had seen you here and there in the common room. You always seemed to have an impossibly bright smile, far too lovely for the gloominess of Slytherin.

“Riddle.” You hum with a small grin, and he can't help but let a small smile tug at his lips as he looks over at you.

“What's wrong? You’re looking at me as though I’ve grown another head” You tease as you sit down next to him .

Mattheo blinks in surprise as you address him, the warmth of your smile catching him off guard. He's used to being treated with caution and apprehension, especially given his family's reputation and his own reserved demeanor. But your easy manner and genuine curiosity leave him feeling strangely disarmed.

"Nothing's wrong, just lost in thought, I suppose," he replies, a hint of amusement in his voice as he watches you unpack your bag. Despite himself, he can't help but feel a sense of curiosity about you, wondering what it is that draws you to him when so many others keep their distance.

-•-

“Please-” Mattheo pleads in frustration, slamming the door shut behind him as he storms through the empty common room. You follow after him briskly, slamming the door that separates the common room from the dorms closed with a flick of your wand as you corner him.

“What do you mean, please?” You snap, frowning at him.

“Stop-” He says, his movements exasperated as he motions between the two of you “- this! Stop trying to be friends with me! It’s for your own good.” He says, looking up at you.

You let out a dry laugh, a mix of amusement and frustration as you shove him lightly.

“Oh fuck off. So you can kiss me and spend every evening with me but when it suits you we are just friends. You don't get to decide what’s good for me, Mattheo. I choose what I do and who I associate with, and if that hurts me then so fucking be it.” You retort harshly. Mattheo goes to interject but you cut him off.

“No! You don't get to choose when you want to be with me. I want you, Mattheo. All of you. I couldn’t give two flying shits about who your father is, or who you associate with. I'm capable of making my own decisions.”

He remains silent, his expression torn between turmoil and guilt, as your words hang heavy in the air between you. You feel slightly guilty for your outburst and your expression softens, reaching out to hold his hand gently as you speak.

"You know, if you really think it's that dangerous for me to be around you, you could always just obliviate me. Make me forget about you completely."You quip, trying to lighten the mood

For a moment, Mattheo's shock gives way to a burst of laughter, the tension in the room dissipating as he shakes his head in disbelief. "You're impossible," he says, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "But I wouldn't have it any other way."

-•-

You pull back from Mattheo, shaking your head. “No. No, that was a joke.” You stammer, but he turns to you.

“It wasn’t. We spoke about it afterwards. You promised me.” Mattheo says, sternly.

You know he’s right. You only agreed because the idea seemed so laughable. But now it was a reality, and you could see the hurt and disappointment in Mattheo's eyes.

Tears well up in your eyes as you struggle to find the right words, the weight of everything crashing down on you like a ton of bricks. "I love you, Mattheo," you say, more of a plea than anything else. He draws you into him, a strong arm wrapping around you tightly, as though he is scared to let you go. His hand cups the back of your head, pulling your head down to rest on his shoulder as he kisses the top of your head.

“I know. I love you too. That's why we have to.” He murmurs, trying his hardest to not let his voice break.

-•-

It’s not fair.

It wasn’t fucking fair.

Mattheo had just found it. Found his reason for living. Found his reason to keep going when all the odds were stacked against him. You were the air he breathed, the light that lit his life up and the tender hand that soothed him. You were his everything, and you had to be snatched away from him.

He gently raps on the door to your dorm, just to let you know he was about to enter before cracking the door open. You hastily scramble, shoving the book you were writing with under your pillow as you spot Mattheo.

He notices but he doesn't say a thing, no, he can't. Because in a few minutes, it would be as though he never existed to you. He couldn't tell what would have hurt more, you not being able to see him, or you not even knowing who he was. You’d hold his heart in your hands, unknowingly, and he would be nothing but a stranger.

“Not in here, Please, not in here.” You breathe out, your words hitching in your throat as you fight back tears. He nods wordlessly, taking a step back.

“No one’s in the common room. I’ll uh- go there.” He murmurs, his voice hollow and empty as he turns to leave, unable to bear the thought of facing you for what may be the last time.

As he makes his way down to the common room, every step heavier than the last, he can't shake the feeling of emptiness that gnaws at his insides. It's like a void, swallowing him whole and leaving nothing behind but a hollow shell of the person he used to be.

He finds a seat in the furthermost corner, where you both usually sat, facing the fireplace. He watches the embers crackle and dance, not even noticing your presence till you slide up into the seat next to him. He wants to avert his gaze when he sees the tears in your eyes, but instead, he reaches up.

His hands were shaking. Why were they shaking?

He wipes a stray tear from your cheek.

“My wand. Let me go uh-” He blurts , quickly getting up as he looks away. He blinks back tears as he hurries up the stairs. Instead of going up to his dorm, however, he sneaks into yours.

He walks over to your bed, pulling back your pillow. Sure enough, the small book you were so desperate to conceal from Mattheo was there. He looks around and then with a small huff, tucks it into his back pocket. He hurries back downstairs.

Returning to the common room, he sits back down next to you, his hand reaching out to gently intertwine with yours as you sit together in silence. For a while, you don't say anything. You fear that speaking will break this small bubble, where time has frozen and you can just enjoy your last moments together.

As Mattheo gently cups your face, his touch trembling with the weight of what's to come, he feels the soft dampness of your tears against his fingertips. Your eyes, filled with sorrow and pleading, search his for some semblance of reassurance, some sign that this isn't the end.

"I can't do this," he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper, his heart breaking with every word. "I can't lose you. You mean everything to me. I’m so scared"

Your sobs fill the air around you, the sound like a knife to Mattheo's heart as he struggles to hold back his own tears. He leans in, pressing his lips against yours in a tender, bittersweet kiss, savouring the taste of your lips one last time before it's all gone.

“I love you.” Is all you can muster. It’s pathetic, but it hurts to even think about anything.

You cling to him desperately, your fingers tangling in his hair as though trying to anchor yourself to the present. Mattheo feels a lump form in his throat, the weight of his decision pressing down on him like a suffocating blanket, but he knows that he has to do this. For your own safety, for your own sake, he has to let you go.

His forehead presses against yours, taking in every last moment of intimacy he’s granted. You don't open your eyes, and he's grateful, for he doesn't think he could bear to look you in the eye.

“Obliviate.”

The second after he murmurs the words he stumbles away from you, reeling backwards as though your touch has burnt him. You wouldn't remember a thing about him, not even his name. He couldn’t be close to you anymore.

Mattheo watches as you blink, confusion clouding your features as you try to make sense of your surroundings. You look around the room, your eyes scanning the familiar surroundings with a sense of bewilderment, and for a moment, Mattheo's heart clenches with the hope that maybe, just maybe, you'll remember him. But deep down, he knows that it's futile, that the spell has already taken effect, erasing every trace of him from your mind.

You shake your head slightly, as if trying to clear the fog from your thoughts, before turning and heading up to your bed. Mattheo watches you go, his heart breaking with every step you take away from him, knowing that he can never follow.

But then, just as you reach the top of the stairs, you pause, your gaze flickering back to where Mattheo stands in the corner of the room. And in that moment, you give him a small, absentminded smile, the kind of smile you might give to a passing stranger.

Mattheo's heart lurches in his chest at the sight of your smile. He wants to call out to you, to tell you who he is, to beg you to remember him, but he knows that it's pointless. You're gone, lost to him forever, and there's nothing he can do to change that.

As you disappear, he collapses down onto the sofa, He wants to sob, and for a second he thinks he is, a horrible restictive choking feeling in his throat as he looks down at the floor. He reaches into his pocket, fingers fumbling with the small black book, perhaps the last piece of you he’d truly have.

He finds the most recent entry and wipes away the tears that blur his vision as he begins to read.

Don't be alarmed when you see this. I want you to read every word of this carefully. This is you, that is writing. It is the 26th of June, 1996. You might have felt like you’ve woken up in the common room, feeling a bit disoriented.

You were obliviated. And it was your idea.

When you were that annoying, pestering little kid, you had taken it upon yourself to befriend a boy called Mattheo Riddle. You’ll see him over the next few days, perhaps. He might look at you as though it hurts him to. It most definitely does. He’s devastatingly handsome, with the softest brown curls and the most expressive eyes. I do believe you won't need me to describe him. Really, my love for him is so strong I doubt any sort of obliviate can erase the idea that Mattheo Riddle lives within the recesses of your heart. Everyone had warned you of how dangerous he was, how his father was rumoured to be the Dark Lord and that he was bound to be no good. But you, in your true Slytherin ambition, set out on a mission to befriend him.

And you fell in love. It was impossible not to, really.

He is everything to me. He was everything to you. He is the most brilliant boy I’ve known. Far too many people gave up on him early. He’s beyond just being incredibly intelligent. He feels. And that’s rarer than you might believe. For someone who was subjected to such horrible things growing up, he is tender. Do not let his bruised knuckles and split lips fool you.

Now, more than ever, he will struggle. He believes you are fully not aware of him. But with this, I hope you are.

Be there for him. Do not tell him about this. You were awfully good at forcing your way into people's lives. Do that for him now. Make him think it was a coincidence. Be there for him, and don’t let his stubbornness fool you. Merlin knows he will be stubborn. He is simply scared, and you mustn’t let that deter you.

People will often compare their lovers to the sun. Bright, warm, near perfect. Mattheo is the moon, casting a gentle glow in the darkness, guiding you through the night. He may not shine as brightly as the sun, but his presence is no less mesmerizing, no less essential.

You had always preferred the moon more, anyway.

Take care of him.

You stupid girl. You stupid, selfish girl.

Mattheo's hands tremble as he reads the letter, his heart constricting with every word, every line. It's like a knife to his heart, the pain of knowing that even in a situation like this, you still found a way to look after him, to care for him, to love him.

Tears blur his vision as he reads on, each word cutting deeper than the last. The book, filled with pages of recollections of the time they spent together, feels like a cruel reminder of everything he's lost, everything he can never get back.You had nearly filled the whole book, addressed to yourself with worries and letters in the hopes of getting your obliviated mind to fall back in love with Mattheo. To remember him, and to negate the whole idea of obliviating yourself by leaving this book for your future self.

And you did all of this just because you wanted to look after him.

It hurts to breathe, to even entertain the idea of going to bed tonight knowing that the love of his life sees him as nothing but a stranger. And in his hands, he holds the thing that could do the impossible, that could somehow reverse it all.

The very selfish part of him wants you to see the book. He wants to slip upstairs, and hide it back under your pillow, and let you find the words you addressed to yourself.

But he couldn’t. He could die far more happily knowing he’s not leaving you behind, no. Really, you were never his, the two of you forcing destiny in the opposite direction, living on borrowed time. Now he has to face the consequences of it all, and if he can stop you bearing the brunt of it, then he’s made no mistake.

He places the book down on the table, and doesn’t think twice about his actions.

“Incendio.”

#slytherin #slytherin boys #tom riddle #harry potter #draco malfoy #lorenzo berkshire #slytherin boys fic #theodore nott #blaise zabini #pansy parkinson #mattheo riddle angst #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #mattheo x you #mattheoxreader #mattheo riddle x you

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mytheoristavenue · 2 years ago

Note

I just refound my hyperfixation with franken stein from soul eater and was wondering if you would write nsfw stein/maid! Reader?

Sure, thanks for the ask, and sorry for the wait!

SE Franken Stein x Maid!Reader 🍋 - Commands

Summary: Your new employer decides to correct you after finding your service to not be up to his standards.

Warning: Rough, unprotexted sex, hard dom!stein, sub!reader, fem!reader, service!sub, kinda short

"(Y/N)," your employer called, prompting you to toddle over to him in the kitchen. "How many times am I going to have to correct you before you can do things correctly?" he asked ominously, cocking his head a bit and erecting his arm to crank the bolt lodged in his temple.

"Apologies, sir," you mumbled. "What was it that I did wrong?"

"Taste this." he ordered, shoving a mug in your face. Hesitantly, you took in by its handle and took a sip, instantly grimacing at the taste.

"Tea?" you whispered under your breath, confused. Why was there tea in the coffee canister?

"Correct. And what did I ask for?" His confirmation startled you, as you hadn't anticipated him hearing you.

"Coffee, sir." you answered shamefully, setting the cup down to go make him a fresh cup. "Apologies."

"That won't be enough this time," you could here his teeth grind when he spoke, making your skin crawl as he grabbed you by the wrist to pull you back to him. "I'm going to teach you a lesson this time."

-----

"Watch those teeth or you'll lose them." he commanded down to you as you diligently sucked him off, making sure to take everything he said straight to heat, lest you screw up again. "That's better." He purred, holding your head still in an effort to fuck your throat more comfortably. Stein leaned against the refrigerator tiredly, his head tilted back against it, not only out of bliss, but exhaustion. He'd had a long day and he didn't have the energy to look after you to make sure you did things properly.

"If you were half as good at you job as you are at sucking dick, we might just get along." he remarked with a throaty chuckle. "But you're not, so I guess this is all your good for." You took in his displeased words as they went straight to your heat. You wanted so desperately to sink your fingers into your core while you pleasured him, letting his distain for you ag you on, but you knew better. Stein was a cold, uncaring man, and you knew for a fact that if Death himself hadn't appointed you to keep his lab clean, you'd be on the streets.

Suddenly, you felt a harsh slap deliver to your cheek, causing you to withdrawal from him, alarmed. "Teeth." he reminded.

"S-Sorry," you whined, brows knitted together shyly as you gazed up at him.

"God, you're pathetic." he moaned, releasing a shaky breath as you licked a stripe up his shaft. "Either you're such a little snowflake that you're going to cry over one little slap, or you're getting pleasure from this." he noted breathlessly, before pressing his palm to your forehead and pushing you to the floor. "Either way, that I'm not going to let that happen." He growled, approaching you, and manhandling you off the ground.

-----

You whined hopelessly as the man of the house held you as you were laid out on the kitchen table, fucking into your weeping whole like he hated you, and in many ways, he did. You vexed him constantly with your sickeningly sweet tone, your stupid mistakes, and the way you said things that drove him wild, entirely unintentionally. He gripped your thigh tighter, your leg half hazard slung over his shoulder, while the other dangled off the table.

"Dick dumb little whore," he grunted, sweat dripping off his brow and landing on your uniform. "Can't even make a simple cup of fucking coffee."

Your face felt numb, and you struggled to form a single coherent thought as he pounded you into the table, simply uttering choked attempts at his title. "Y-Yes, sir..."

"Fuck," he groaned as your walls clenched around him, squeezing for all he was worth. "Better not fucking cum, I swear to God, I'll hurt you so bad." His threats did nothing to stop your climax from washing over you. If anything, they made it stronger, the thought of all the ways he could harm you tasting delicious in your mind. Your pelvis rose off the table as your legs began to tremble, your gross noises spilling into the air, pissing him off even more. "God, you can't do anything fucking thing I tell you, can you?"

You neglected to answer him, simply laying limp against the cold surface, you eyes rolled back and drool dribbling down your chin from your ajar lips. "Don't think that just because you came I'm gonna stop," he warned, tossing your leg off him and gripping your hips as harshly as he could, fingernails digging crescent moons into your supple flesh.

"Gonna fuck you until you learn your Goddamn lesson."

#soul eater smut #professor stein #stein x reader #franken stein #stein smut #soul eater x reader

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cursedmoon-doll13 · 1 year ago

Text

Some Kind Of Stranger.

(Sirius x Reader)

Cw: Angst, Smut, Dub/Noncon. Afab reader. Prisoner (also falsely accused) reader and they are having a very bad time™️ Fingering, Unprotected Sex, Comfort Sex in a very uncomfortable place.

Word Count: 2.6k

Summary: Condemned to rot in Azkaban, you find yourself thrown into a cell already inhabited by a particularly infamous wizard. Perhaps you can stave off the torment together…

Dividers by @/saradika

Your life is forfeit.

Until now, the threat of death never seemed real. Not when you were seized by the officials and dragged before the ministry, not when those cold, sneering faces looked down upon you and sentenced you to a life in Azkaban for a crime you didn’t commit. It was a farce, a bad practical joke. It couldn’t be real.

Perhaps you were simply enduring some nightmare; this was only a dream, you’d soon find your coworker, Mildred, shaking you vigorously - wake up, you lazy git! Do you even know what bloody time it is? - And then, you’d wipe the crust from your eyes, pull on your Honeydukes apron and go back to peddling sugar to those titchy new Hogwarts kids, who shrink more and more each year.

No. It’s now that it feels real. Now, you're forced behind rusty iron bars, stranded in the middle of the ocean, trapped forever. All you can hear is the crying and moaning of the other prisoners, who sob and bay like animals. You’re still frozen in shock.

Then, the panic sets in. Sinking and emptying, like a vast hole has opened up in your stomach. But you can’t even scream anymore; it dies in your throat like a broken whistle. Instead you just cry, sliding down to the filthy floor in a pathetic heap. No matter how you plug your ears, the older inmates howl louder, joining in a cacophony that almost deafens you.

After a while, the din thankfully quiets down. Exhausted, you drift off into uneasy sleep for a few hours, until some damp chill startles you again. You feel numb and heavy. For the first time since you came here, you take in your surroundings, though there isn’t much: You’re boxed into a container of rock, packed like a product. In one shadowed corner, there’s a pulpy grey lump stuck to the wall like mould. You blink away the darkness and realise it is a vaguely human shape: one with filthy, matted hair.

He is a man; or the sordid remnants of one.

He’s wearing the same drab, striped clothing as you, though older and rattier and crusted with grime. For a moment, you’re convinced he’s dead. The idea of being locked in with a rotting corpse flashes horrifyingly through your mind. But then, he raises his gloomy head. He must be waking up, too.

“Hello?” You gently call out to him. Your voice echoes around the room. You scrape your knee on the floor as you crawl over, trying to see him better.

Almost immediately, you regret your decision.

This is a mistake. Oh, god, it has to be.

The prisoner sharing your cell is Sirius Black.

That Sirius Black.

Sirius Black, who once fired off a curse that killed twelve muggles before you. Sirius Black, whose gaunt and hollowed cheeks now recall the skeleton you first believed he was. Sirius Black, who’s gazing fixedly at you now, in awe, as if you’re an apparition.

“Hello,” he echoes back, and his voice is so gravelly that he sounds like he’s swallowed a bag full of glass. His eyes are wide and strangely bright.

“I…”

Your throat constricts.

The panic from earlier almost drove you into hysterics. Now, you’re just a deer in the headlights.

He rises, advancing towards you.

“You don’t look like one of them,” Black rasps. You follow his line of sight towards your empty forearm.

“N-no, I’m not a Death Eater!” You cry, and scramble quickly away. Still, you feel the urgent need to clamp a hand down there. It’s as if his gaze burns you.

“I’m Innocent! I didn’t do it, I swear, I… I… ”

But you’re choked up with tears again. Now the dam is breached, and you can’t staunch the flow. You were so sullen and distant before the actual judges, but as you’re confronted with death at the hands of a possible madman, you’re desperate to prove yourself. It’s all completely pointless, but you can’t help it. You felt it when you failed your N.E.W.T’s, too. The weight of inevitability; the realisation that a door had slammed permanently shut on your life.

You’re so beside yourself, you don’t register how close Black has gotten. Now, you can feel his warm breath tickling your ear, almost pleasantly. But then you flinch, as images of brute, bloody violence force themselves into your head. All you know of this man is that he’s a ruthless killer, that’s he’s…

“Not going to hurt you,” Black tells you. He’s backed you into a wedge in the stone, with nowhere else to turn to but him. You feel like a cornered animal.

“Don’t cry, now,” he says quietly. A bony, shaking knuckle comes to wipe the wetness from your cheek. “If you are Innocent, don’t you forget. It helps not to.”

Don’t Forget… Black’s words solidify in your mind. You swallow down a lump. The scrape on your knee is beginning to sting painfully. You realise it’s bleeding.

“Wouldn’t do to catch an infection here, eh?” He quips. Black clumps together the cleanest strip of cloth he has and dabs at your weeping knee.

You blink owlishly. It’s so starkly conversational, it sounds like it came from an entirely different man.

“Um… No. No.” You sniff and rub your eye; it smarts. “You’re right, It really wouldn’t do.” You glance sheepishly back up at his pale face.

“…Thankyou,” you sigh, and you mean it.

For a brief second, this encounter feels precious. Without realising it, you’ve relaxed so much tension in your tired body. Suddenly, the absurdity of the situation you’ve found yourself in hits you like a ton of bricks. How could you have ever imagined you’d be comforted by a convicted murderer? He’s bent forward, staring intently at you, as if he’s trying to read your thoughts. A little too intently.

Black’s tattered shirt gapes open like a wound, and your gaze dips instinctively downward, tracing black-inked, swirling tattoos. His bare chest is coated in a thin sheen of sweat. Black’s hand brushes momentarily against yours, and you hurry to pry your wandering eyes away.

It’s no use, though, because he’s rather caught on. You believe you half-fantasise the ghost of a cheeky smile, twitching beneath his rugged whiskers.

He would’ve been handsome, once. He still is.

“Tell me your name,” Black murmurs, and licks his cracked lips. “I want to know.”

You tell him. He nods faintly, and draws closer.

Black’s grey eyes are half-lidded. He’s leaning flush against you now, breathing huskily, almost clinging to you, like he can’t bear to be apart from your heat. Maybe you’ve already lost the plot - after barely a day here - but the anguished, far-away longing in his expression makes your heart pang.

Eleven years ago now, it must’ve been…

A shrill, unwelcome noise cuts through the silence. Outside, another inmate is shrieking.

Then, the nightmare truly begins: an eerie rattle dragging across the air, knife-sharp, closing in, as certain as death. You realise immediately that it is the Dementors - your prison guards- even without seeing them. You feel them, cold like a sheet of ice, crushing you, inescapable.

You shift, darting your eyes around your cell; you must think of something, anything else.

Your distraction comes in a rush of warmth, cocooning you in a grimy coat. Black has caged you into his arms, and will not budge.

“Stay here with me,” he breathes. His voice is raw and hoarse, pleading: “Just for one moment…”

He shudders violently, and buries his face in the crook of your neck. Black squeezes you so tightly, so desperately, you feel like you’re suffocating.

“Sirius,” you croak out a protest. “Wait, let me go.”

The sound of his own name jolts him out of his panic, but his grip on you remains unrelenting. Sirius turns a sharp glare on you that makes you shiver.

Before, his gaze was fond, almost gentle, but now there’s a hungry glint in his eyes. It reminds you of the starving, feral dogs that roam the outskirts of Hogsmeade, the ones that’d rip your throat out for a mere scrap of meat. No, he may not have tried to kill you, but that doesn’t mean you should’ve let your guard down. You’re powerless to stop him now.

“Don’t leave, don’t you dare leave me,” he’s chanting through dirty, gritted teeth.

“I’m not going to leave, Sirius,” you muster. “I’ll stay, I’ll stay here with you…” The words seem to pacify him a little, and he softens his touch once more. You see again the sad, forlorn expression, and pity floods your heart. He’s a hurt man. A lonely man…

Another frigid spike of mental agony is driven through you, and you squeeze your eyes shut. You no longer have the willpower to resist. He’s so warm, his body wrapped around you like a protective blanket. You can hear the steady rhythm of his heartbeat underneath his striped shirt, pounding like a drum.

“Help…” He sounds so lost, feverish. “…Stave it off.”

You find yourself nodding, pressing yourself closer to him. He’s right. It hurts you, too, the Dementors’ presence. All you have now is each other. Sirius strokes a clammy hand over your tear-stained cheek, lifts your chin and kisses you. His lips taste salty and bitter, and your teeth clash together clumsily with the urgency of it. You rush to hook your arms around his neck, fingers raking across knots and tangles in his dark, unkempt hair.

Sirius groans heavily into your mouth, bucking his hips. He’s so malnourished you can feel the harsh angle of his pelvic bone jut against you. Something else, hard, twitches fervently over your thigh. He tightens his hold on you before you can react, grasping your thighs and grinding powerfully over your still clothed cunt. You whimper as his heat radiates into you. Sirius doesn’t stop, panting frantically. Maybe he can’t stop. He’s trapped you between himself and the cold, hard stone, and you start to crave friction and relief from him. Something you can focus on that isn’t discomfort or pain. But you’re completely at his mercy in this position, and can only rub your clit wantonly against the throbbing outline of his dick. A low, pleased grumble resounds in his throat, almost canine.

Sirius paws at the confines of your inmate’s rags, and without warning, he forcefully disrobes you. You gasp as a freezing gust of air pimples gooseflesh on your exposed skin, but he’s on you just as fast, You cling instinctively onto his jacket as he hoists you onto his waiting lap. He latches onto your throat with a greedy bite, sucking ravenous hickies down to your collarbone. Sirius rolls a hot tongue over your hardened nipple, and you tug again at his tangled locks as he grazes tantalisingly over it with his teeth.

His hands are everywhere, movements once well-practised, natural, stirred into a lustful frenzy. One comes to pinch at your other nipple, another is slipping past your stomach, down in between your thighs where you’re needy and slick. You can’t help the moan that escapes past your lips as the pad of his thumb circles over your sensitive clit.

For a small, blissful moment, you rock into his palm as he holds you, stifling your mewls into his shoulder as he massages the bundle of nerves there. Oh, fuck, you need him, as much as you need air to breathe. If you shut your eyes, you can almost pretend that you weren’t here; that you are joyful and unfettered, making love to a free man.

“Mm, Sirius!”

Sirius curls another long finger into your wet slit, and you could swear the glint in his eye is smugly satisfied. He pumps mercilessly into your pussy, not sparing your clit from his attention, and it isn’t long before you feel a thrill rippling up your spine; tight, warm pressure building in your abdomen.

But then he seems to grow antsy and impatient. You whine as he pulls his hand away, but he hushes you, pressing a consoling kiss to your temple. The lucid side to him, the one that still cares for your comfort, provides you with his coat to rest your head on. You lie down, shuddering as the frigid air assaults you again. You grab at his rags as he quickly undresses. He’s taking too long, too long…

Sirius drags down the waistband of his slacks and releases the straining hardness of his cock. It’s erect and veiny, leaking precum from an enraged tip.

He’s left you so soaked that he meets no resistance as he buries himself deep into your ready cunt. You groan as you adjust to the girth of him, stretching your gummy walls. Sirius grunts, clutching your thighs so tightly his nails leave indents on the tender flesh. Sweat is pouring down his forehead in rivulets, and you reach up to brush damp hair away from his haggard face. It occurs to you faintly that maybe after such deprivation, this much sensation is overwhelming him. That notion is swiftly dashed as he stutters his hips jerkily into yours, and you squeak out a moan as your nerves jolt with pleasure. You clamp your legs down over his waist, rocking back into him with all the force you can muster.

Sirius is picking up pace faster and faster; he’s had enough of being attentive. He braces you against the thin material of his coat and begins fucking you in earnest, and his rough, sloppy thrusts knock the breath clean out of you. The impact of skin on skin echoes around your cell, drowning out the screams of agony from outside. You arch into him, clawing meagrely onto his biceps for purchase as your shoulder blades burn across the ground.

Sirius growls and grips the back of your neck, lifting you up to pull you into a hungry kiss. His free hand slips down to ruthlessly tease your clit again, and the inescapable power of his body dumbs your senses. It’s a mercy: now all you can feel is him, all you can think of is… The taut razor wire in your belly is threatening to snap. You’re so close now, and it’s like he can taste it, muffling your cries with his tongue as he buckles down and pounds into you.

Then it all breaks, a flash of heat rippling through you like an electric shock. The force of your climax is so strong that you instinctively writhe away from him, but Sirius holds you firmly down and only fucks you harder as you come, rumbling with satisfaction as you spasm and clench uncontrollably around his dick. You can barely comprehend how his movements are faltering, growing increasingly messy and desperate…

Sirius groans hoarsely before he drags himself out of you. His cum splashes over your still twitching stomach in a thick, white rope. He slumps, shuddering out a jagged sigh. Your orgasm lathers over you until it tapers off into a pleasant buzz. For a while, all you can hear is your intermingling breaths, panting in sync. Now that he’s pulled out, you feel strangely hollow and empty inside.

Uncaring of your still sticky belly, Sirius heaves his sweaty body on top of you and smothers you like a blanket. You only wish he could clog your senses, too, so that this reality could fade away. Seeking sanctuary in his warmth, you press your eyes shut and resolve to fall asleep and dream of better days.

Your life is forfeit. Now you will exist without sun, without moon, without food or water. Someday you may forget your own name.

But you will have this. You will have this.

#was trying to write some fun sexy smut then it turns out quite angsty #but for me I think that’s just par for the course #I honestly haven’t read the books in years I just think escaped prisoner Sirius is hot 🤷‍♀️#the wiki is my friend #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #sirius black #sirius black x you #sirius black x reader #sirius black in azkaban #tw dubcon #afab reader #smut #angst #my writing

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tsukasageorge · 2 years ago

Note

im not scared by your threat so go ahead with the long answer 😌 (if you want alskd)

omg fr???? love u forever miki thank you for giving me this opportunity (now watch me forget all the other characters i like)

ranked by character category 4 funsies

THEY JUST LIKE ME FR:

kel & aubrey - omori

kashima yuu - gsnk

akarsha - butterfly soup

i feel like there are more who should go in this category. hm (its ging /hj)

GIRLBOSS (ESPECIALLY RED):

yor forger - sxf

kyoko sakura - pmmm

mazikeen - lucifer

morgiana - magi

benedict blue - violet evergarden (source: trust me)

hornet - hollow knight

maka - soul eater

min-seo - butterfly soup

ran & sara - case closed

OH MR ELECTRIC FROM SHARKBOY AND LAVAGIRL. HE'S ICONIC HE DESERVES GIRLBOSS CATEGORY

SILLY AND/OR PATHETIC AND/OR GAY (more than one):

yuugo - the promised neverland ('he's gay pathetic to me' - guy who has not read the source material in forever)

mitsuba sousuke & kou minamoto - jshk

gozumaru - nurarihyon no mago (blorbo in law)

sugihara kei - yakuza's guide to babysitting

crona & death the kid - soul eater

shun kaido & kusuke saiki - saiki k

joe tazuna - your turn to die

periwinkle - starry flowers

mikoshiba - gsnk

dr doofenshmirtz - phineas and ferb

double trouble - she ra

OTHER (it can be argued that all of these characters are gay, but they don't quite fit silly/pathetic criteria):

nicki/charlotte and harriet/elena - greetings from witness protection!

pastille - starry flowers & syrup and the ultimate sweet (partially bc i haven't put anyone else in this category yet)

ouni - children of the whales

hanako - jshk

sayaka miki - pmmm

loid forger/twilight - sxf (edward cullen..... 😔 😔 😔)

canary & senritsu - hxh

luculia & violet & um. leo or something??? the guy who translates the book about the comet he's got longer hair - violet evergarden

neferpitou - hxh (just because they are more silly destructive than silly pathetic)

if im putting hk characters in here then myla & the stag - hk

killua zoldyck - hxh (would have been in the 'blue hair & pronouns' and 'sad. soooo sad' categories if i had them)

if this is turning into a tierlist no it isn't shhh. mermista and entrapta - she ra

BONUS CATEGORY: small :)

alluka & kalluto zoldyck - hxh

gin ibushi & kanna kizuchi - your turn to die

yaeka sakuragi - yakuza's guide to babysitting

conan - case closed

anya & damian & becky - sxf

#asks <3 #sorry about the random text colors i was gonna make it rainbow but there wasn't enough categories to get to blue </3 #there probably would have been if id consumed more than like 7 medias in my life. but #anyways in the small competition yaeka and conan win but conan takes grand champion.#i think if i stepped on him a little too hard he would be squished

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theyrealllesbians · 4 months ago

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"fictional characters who were mentioned on average three times in the original material."

LMAOOOO what a funny way of admitting that you're illiterate. There is TONNES of info about the marauders in canon, you're just a fucking idiot clearly. Anyone with any reading ability at all knows that james and lily would never date or even be at all friendly to a DEATH EATER.

gfy and get out of the fandom. intelligent ppl don't want to see your disgusting pro-fascist fetish

please just block me, don't be so pathetic

but if you won't do that. put you're money where your mouth is and support the anti fascist protests going on in the UK right now. One place I can immediately think of to donate is UK Fact Check Politics

they are a non-profit, independent UK news source that are reporting on the far right riots at the moment- you know, real displays of fascism

I promise you that jegulus shippers on Tumblr are not the real threat.

#anyways go read my jegulus fic xxx #anon

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splendidissimus · 1 year ago

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Character Questions cont.

[master list]

38. Have they ever had to hurt someone else, physically or mentally, to save themselves or another person? Were they the same after the incident, or did it change them?

Theo:

Having to perform the Cruciatus curse in Dark Arts class on students who'd earned detentions. At first he didn't participate, but being too obvious about not trying earned corporal punishment, and he had a black eye from it for a while. The first person he successfully cast it on was Draco, who spent a solid chunk of the year in Detention; he'd been angry with him for something outside of class and he accidentally (or, he wonders, was it actually an accident?) actually did it. He did feel guilty about it, especially how vindicating it felt for a second.

Theo considers himself an observer, a habitual bystander, not someone who gets involved and certainly not someone who takes a stand on things. That convinced him that he really wasn't going to take part in that anymore, though, and by the end of the year he was drawing unwanted attention for his "inability" (unwillingness) to perform a proper curse.

Draco:

Tasked with assassination, under implied pain of death for himself and his family. There was never any good outcome for him. If he'd done it, it would have messed him up. However, the fact that he couldn't bring himself to do it when he had the chance also fucked him up. It's a source of shame for years afterward. Not that he wants to be a murderer, but his takeaway is that he's too weak and useless to even do what needs to be done protect people he loves.

Then he was forced to torture other Death Eaters for their failures, with the threat of suffering worse torture himself. He learned that it's possible to fuel a Cruciatus off of sheer fear and self-preservation, which is not a proud feeling, and cements his view of himself as a coward. But there was another dimension to it that he was socially adept enough to be painfully aware of - it wasn't just the torture that was the punishment, but that the torture was coming from him. He's so pathetic and useless that being tortured by him was especially demeaning, used as a way to humiliate people. It also drove home that he didn't have (wasn't allowed) any pride, because he'd do that just because he was told to, even knowing what it said about him.

The Muggle hunt he was made to participate in is also relevant. His father got him drunk first so he could handle it and he managed to not have to actually do anything ((subject to change when I actually write it)), but being there made him feel evil. He found out that there's a lot of space between mindlessly parroting rhetoric and actually taking action.

Bluntly, when he was 17 his entire sense of self-worth was destroyed, largely (though not entirely) by this, and it tore him down to just shame, so he could only see himself as useless and powerless and unworthy. He wouldn't really stand up for himself again for years, and continues to not really trust his own abilities. (It also damaged his relationship with his father, about the only one he felt equal with, in that they were both trash, though even then he knows his father is stronger than he is.)

Overall, not good.

#character questions #theo nott #draco malfoy #draco is traumatised #i need a new tag for “not explicitly canon but like why isn't it”#how about #canon extrapolation #character answers

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astraeaalstroemeria · 1 year ago

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you are and will always be my only salvation

SYNOPSIS: Regulus finally had enough when he was given an ultimatum—it was the icing on the cake that he had longed to cut—and decides to run to his salvation and away from his abusive household on the day he was supposed to receive the dark mark from the Dark Lord.

GENRE: Fluff, Major Comfort, Happy Ending

PAIRING(S): Regulus Black x Fem!Ravenclaw!Reader

WARNING(S): Slight Angst (if you squint) Walburga Black, Abuse, Trauma, Abusive Parents, Mention of Death, Depression, Injuries, Torture, Dark Mark, Death Eaters, Cruciatus Curse

WORD COUNT: 3.5k

Rules & Navigation | Regulus Black Masterlist

AO3 LINK

Regulus couldn't take it anymore. The amount of torture and the amount of Cruciatus curse used on him was unbearable.

Regulus screamed and whimpered as his supposed mother tortured him and his father watched. Walburga had found the letters he and you exchanged contained in a box under his bed. To say Walburga was furious was an understatement.

She immediately dragged Regulus by his collar and dropped him to the cold floor of the 12 Grimmauld Place. Walburga didn't even have to think twice to torture Regulus at the accidental revelation.

Walburga spat out threats to kill you and Regulus pleaded not to. “Please! I beg you, do anything to me but her.” Regulus pleaded as his mother continued to torture him and he groaned in agony.

He refused to cry in front of the people who knew that would only be satisfied that they had such a reaction from him. Regulus shivered as he curled up on the floor and the use of Cruciatus curse on him continued.

Regulus was now defenseless since Sirius had run away from home 2 years ago. He was in his 6th year while you were in your 7th. Regulus had always had you for comfort but since the break from Hogwarts started, he dreaded not being able to spend time with you.

He may have not said it aloud, but he cherished all the time he spent with you and he loved all the comfort you can give him at the times of his lowest. He enjoyed the times when he would spend his time with you, Pandora, Evan, Dorcas and Barty.

Being a Ravenclaw like Pandora had its own perks. You and Pandora both agreed that you would rather spend both of your free times with them and Regulus adored you for it.

Regulus finally managed to breathe when his mother dropped her wand and stopped the Cruciatus curse on him. Regulus panted heavily and sweat was all over on his face. He looked at his mother with a pity worthy look and her mother's stern face didn't falter.

Regulus swallowed the lump that formed in his throat and some of his hair stuck to his forehead that was covered with sweat.

“You will have the dark mark, want it or not, you will do as I say because I am your mother.” Walburga said with a stern and demanding voice.

“Loving this… girl has made you weak and pathetic. You will stop seeing her or you will be disowned from this household and never talked about ever again.” Orion chimed in.

Regulus sat up without speaking and he stared at his abusive parents that tortured him when he didn’t obey something they told him. His mother and father walked out of the dining room and left him alone in the room.

Probably to suffer or die alone. But he knew they wouldn’t let him die since he was their only heir, now that Sirius was gone. Regulus called out for Kreacher and the house elf immediately apparated beside him.

“Yes, Master Regulus? What can Kreacher do for you?” The house elf asked in his scratchy voice. Regulus swallowed the lump in his throat and stood up with his entire body shaking. He grabbed the table to support his weight and he looked at Kreacher with determination.

“I need you to pack all my belongings, Kreacher. Make sure that mother and father don't find out.” He ordered. The house elf nodded in understanding and apparated away to Regulus’s room to do as he was asked.

Regulus stood more firmly and he was out of breath while he tried to compose himself. You couldn’t see him in that state. Oh no, no, no. He wouldn’t let it, if he could prevent it.

Regulus wiped the sweat from his brow and he stared at his bloody and shaking hands. Kreacher arrived with a sounding pop a few minutes later and he had few luggages around him.

Kreacher gave Regulus a worried glance as he looked at his master that looked like he was about to collapse. Regulus reassured Kreacher that he was fine and with that, they both apparated to your house and away from the 12 Grimmauld Place. He left. And he was never coming back.

You were partying loudly with your friends and celebrating Lily and James’s announcement that they were dating. You all talked and laughed about the times you spent with them while they were in Hogwarts.

They had just graduated, and the staff at Hogwarts were finally relieved that the Marauders were finally out of their hairs.

You were sitting on the couch and beside you were Sirius and Remus making out. You winced and downed a glass of beer.

“For God's sake! Can you two get a room, please?” you rolled your eyes and whined. Sirius stopped kissing Remus and rolled his own eyes to you.

“Oh please, like I didn’t let you date my little brother.” Sirius said with annoyance and he gently pushed Remus off of him.

You frowned and furrowed your eyebrows while sighing. “Yeah, I should be grateful for that, huh?” you mumbled quietly and crossed your arms while staring at the floor.

Remus and Sirius turned to each other and Sirius mumbled something and left with an excuse of ‘gonna get more beer’.

Remus scooted closer to you on the couch and gently took your hand in his. “Hey… are you okay little flower?” Remus whispered.

You looked at him and shook your head. “To be honest? No. No, I’m not okay.” you mumbled quietly. Remus looked at you with pity and you groaned.

“For Godric’s sake, Moony. Please stop looking at me like that. You know I don’t like when people look at me like that.” you sighed.

“Like what? I don’t know what you mean, little flower.” Remus teased and he smiled sheepishly. You rolled your eyes and tried not to smile by biting the inside of your cheek. Remus saw the subtle smile forming and he poked the side of your stomach teasingly.

You instinctively avoided the poke and laughed slightly. “You know what I mean, you bloody tease!” you protested and stuck your tongue out at him.

Remus laughed and he attacked your stomach with tickles and you laughed trying to push him off of you. “Remus! I swear to god!” you said between laughs.

Remus continued tickling you and only stopped when Sirius walked in with three beers in his hands, which he struggled to hold. “Oy! Stop flirting with my Moony and help me with these!” Remus looked at you with a grin before he sighed and stood up from the couch to help Sirius.

When Remus took the two beers out of Sirius’ hand, he planted a kiss on Sirius’ cheek and leaned in to whisper something in Sirius’ ear.

The facial expressions on Sirius’ face as Remus whispered something to him told that Remus was talking about you since Sirius couldn’t stop glancing your way.

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion as a response when you suddenly had a sick feeling in your stomach.

You scrunched up your nose in displease and instinctively put a hand on your stomach. Something was wrong. You felt like your stomach was being twisted inside-out and something just felt wrong.

Sirius immediately notices your expression and he walks up to sit on the couch and on the spot beside you. The couch dipped when he sat down and a beer was in his hand.

“Hey, you okay there little flower?” you shook your head and looked thoughtful for a while.

Sirius nodded his head in understanding and popped the beer open. After the fizz was done fizzing, Sirius took a sip and whistled in satisfaction. You couldn’t help but grin in his ‘Siriusly’ good antics as Sirius called it.

“So, how’s my little brother? He hasn’t treated you like crap, has he?” you shook your head and your grin faded a little.

To be completely honest, Regulus hasn’t been responding to your letters when you both promised to write each day. But he had to do it secretly.

“No. He’s a complete gentleman.” you sighed happily and nodded slowly.

But Sirius could tell that there was something else in your mind, and he narrowed his eyes. “But?” he asked in a questioning tone.

The Marauders knew you so well it was quite touching. But not as well as the Slytherin friend group plus a Ravenclaw.

With another sigh, you answered. “But he hasn’t been responding to the letters we promised to write everyday.

“I think something’s wrong. I just feel it.” You paused and narrowed your eyes and stared at the ceiling in a daze.

The couch dipped again when Remus sat on it and he reached out the other beer he was holding in his hand. You reluctantly took the beer before you popped it open. You took a sip and licked the bubbles off from your lips.

Sirius sighed in a devastated manner before he clicked his tongue. “I hate to break it to you, little flower. But the worst case scenario is that the psycho people I used to call as parents might have found out what you and he have been up to.”

When Sirius finished the sentence, you felt like you couldn’t breathe and your surroundings all felt so unreal.

Remus harshly hit Sirius’ arm when instead of comforting you, he made it worse and Remus mumbled something. But you couldn’t hear it.

All the sounds around you felt muffled. You abruptly stood up from the couch and placed the beer on the coffee table.

You ran to the door of the Potter’s house and took off your coat from the hanging rack. Remus and Sirius followed behind you with sounds of protests and you turned to them.

“I.. I’m sorry. I need to get home.” Worry and plead lingered in your tone of voice.

Remus looked concerned and just nodded with a reassuring smile. Sirius on the other hand stepped forward in front of you and put a reassuring hand on your shoulder.

“It’s alright. We’ll tell Lily and James you had something come up.” Sirius said in a quiet whisper and you couldn’t help but feel touched by his kind words.

Without hesitation, you wrapped your hands around Sirius in an embrace and you muttered a ‘thank you’ before you pulled away from the hug and apparated to the outside of your house.

You couldn’t help but squint your eyes when the cold night breeze hit your cheeks and shivered slightly. Your house was dim and no lights have been turned off. But you couldn’t help but wonder that you were expecting someone to arrive in your house.

You quickly ran up to the door and fumbled your hands, trying to find the keys in your coat pockets. You eventually gripped the keys in your hand and immediately opened the lock of the doorknob.

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion when you heard breathing from the dim living room area and raised your wand in front of you while your free hand clicked the switch of the light.

You stood in horror when you realized that it was him. It was Regulus. And he was slouched over on the foot of the couch with sweat in his entire face. Regulus turned his attention to you when you flicked on the light switch and he looked… in pain and had been crying.

You immediately ran up to him and kneeled beside him. “Regulus! Regulus?! Can you hear me?” your voice quivered as you took one of his hands in yours and realized they were stained with blood. Regulus’ head suddenly dropped, but you caught him just in time and wrapped your arms around him.

He sobbed rather loudly and he wrapped his arms around your waist while you quietly muttered ‘it’s okay’ and ‘I’m here’ to him to reassure him. Regulus continued to sob and you knew the cause was it was his parents.

After a few minutes, Regulus slowly calmed down. But his arms were still around you and he muttered something incoherent. “Did you say something, darling?” Regulus tried to say something again and you rubbed his back to help him relax further.

“I… left..” Regulus stuttered and his voice was still shaking and he hiccuped the words out. You shushed him quietly and your heart broke to see Regulus in this state. You knew Regulus was strong, but strong people have their breaking point too.

“It’s okay, Reg. You don’t have to speak immediately. I’m here and I won’t leave.” you told him in a soft tone. You always brought comfort to Regulus and you made him see that there was more to a black and white world. Without you, he wouldn’t know what to do with himself.

After a few more minutes had passed, and it was quiet. Regulus had finally calmed down from his hysterical sobbing and your coat was wet with his tears, but it didn’t bother you.

Regulus took a deep sigh and you rubbed the back of his back as a sign for comfort as both of you sat on the living room floor wrapped around each other’s arms.

“Reggie, are you okay now?” you whispered quietly, as if talking to a fragile soul that will shatter anytime soon. Regulus hesitated before he nodded slightly.

Regulus’ head was leaning on your shoulder and his hair stuck to his forehead—that was covered with sweat—and he still looked ethereal. You glanced over to Regulus and tapped him lightly on the shoulder.

“Reggie.. Do you want me to run you a bath?” you suggested. You thought that it could help him relax and relieve him of his stress. It always works.

Regulus lifted up his head from your shoulder and tilted it upwards to look at you. Those glossy, emerald green eyes stared back at yours as if it was speaking to you.

Regulus’ lips curved a small smile and his bloodied hand squeezed your hands tight. “I would love that, mon amour.” Regulus whispered. He lifted his shaking hand towards your cheek to caress it, but you met his hand halfway and grabbed it gently.

You placed his bloodied hand on your cheek and Regulus breathed a long sigh as his thumb caressed your cheek. You leaned into his touch and closed your eyes. You placed your hand on top of Regulus’ hand and smiled while opening your eyes.

—

After you successfully led Regulus to your bedroom, you placed him on your bed. Regulus had insisted not to, as to not stain your bedsheets, but you disregarded it. Saying that it didn't matter as long as he was comfortable.

Regulus felt his heart grow more in size. It was what made him fall in love with you in the first place. And even if he was insecure at times—thinking that you will find someone better than him, and leave him like his brother did—you have always reassured him that it was okay and you weren't going anywhere as long as you were alive.

You went to the bathroom—that was connected within your bedroom—and opened the water and the tub began filling up. You checked the temperature and after it was alright, you opened a bottle of soap and poured it in the bathtub.

You whisked your hand to make some bubbles and you wiped the excess water on a towel nearby. You left the bathroom, and went back to the bedroom. Only to see Regulus was lying down on his back on your bed. He had his head on the pillows and he seemed comfortable. You smiled at the thought.

You crossed your arms and leaned on the door frame of the bathroom and looked at Regulus’ face. He had his eyes closed and his chest was breathing up and down slowly. You didn't notice that you were staring for too long, when Regulus spoke up. “Mon amour, you know It's rude to stare.” Regulus said teasingly with a smirk before he opened his eyes and turned his head towards you.

You felt your cheeks heat up with embarrassment but you just smiled sheepishly. “Hmm, how can I not? My love is a beautiful man.” you winked while you made your way to his side of the bed. Regulus swung his legs to the side of the bed and when you were in arms reach, he pulled you by the waist.

You squealed as he did that. You were now standing between his legs and you put both of your hands on each of his shoulders. “So… You think I'm beautiful?” Regulus said, his smirk not faltering for a second. You nodded and giggled.

“I do. What about it?” you cocked your head to the side. Once the mood was set, it was guaranteed that the teasing for the two of you won't be ending soon unless something happened.

Regulus hummed and he placed his hands on both sides of your waist. “Nothing. I just wanted to know if you'll do something about it.” he trailed off, before continuing “Will you do something about it?” Regulus said with a hint of flirtatiousness in his voice.

You hummed and shook your head. You ran your hand in his black hair and he closed his eyes in response. “As much as I love to do something about it, darling, I can't. Your bath is waiting for you. Don't want it getting cold now?” Regulus clicked his tongue and groaned.

“Can't it wait?” Regulus said, clearly upset. You cupped his cheeks with both of your hands and you smiled down at him. “I promise, after this bath, we can cuddle. As long as you want. Will that make you feel better?”

Regulus nodded. He smiled up at you and gently took your hand and he kissed the back of it with his lips. “Very much, mon amour.”

—

Once Regulus was in the bathtub, you breathed a sigh of relief. It wasn't an easy task. You both had teased each other back and forth. Mostly Regulus teased you.

When you asked him to take his shirt off, he didn't even let you finish and said “If you wanted to see me naked, mon amour, you could've said so.” you were so flustered, but prevented yourself from hitting him on his shoulder.

Regulus was leaning on the bathtub on his back and you had a stool that you sat on. You lathered the shampoo thoroughly through his hair and Regulus felt pleasure with your hands massaging his head like that.

You warned Regulus to close his eyes before you rinsed off the shampoo off his head with the shower head. You asked if he could do the washing of his body by himself, and he reluctantly agreed.

You watched as Regulus scrubbed the bar of soap all of him and his hands were slightly shaking. You took a mental note of holding it later while you cuddled with him. Regulus informed you that he was finished scrubbing, after a minute later.

You nodded and gently rubbed his back while you hovered the shower head by his back and the soap slowly came off of him.

You handed Regulus a towel and turned your face away and let him wrap the towel by himself. You knew Regulus was smirking from behind you and you weren't going to give him the satisfaction by allowing him to see your face—which was redder than the Gryffindor’s house crest.

—

You sat comfortably on your bed while you had your nose in a book. Regulus was dressing himself with the clothes he had packed in his luggage. You were halfway through turning another page, when the bed dipped.

You turned your attention to it and saw Regulus climbing on the bed. You smiled and put the book down on your nightstand. You scooted away and patted the empty space beside you. Regulus happily made his way beside you and he hugged you tightly like there's no tomorrow.

“Hmm.. missed you, mon amour.” Regulus muttered. He buried himself in your hair and inhaled the sweet scent of it. He missed this. He missed you.

He had his back leaning on the headboard of your bed while you laid on his chest. He wrapped his arm around you while the other held your hand.

“I missed you too, Reggie. I was worried, you know? You weren't responding to my letters, and I got scared…” you mumbled weakly to him. Regulus frowned at the thought of worrying you. It was the last thing he wanted.

Regulus apologized and you smiled. He told you about why and what happened within the summer break. He also explained that his mother had found the box of letters you and he exchanged in the worst timing possible.

“I promise, I won't go back there anymore… I made my choice.” Regulus said firmly. If he had to make a choice between you and his family, he would always choose you.

“I'm scared, Regulus.”

“Then let's be scared together, Mon Amour.”

And with that, both had drifted off to sleep, whilst holding each other in each other's embrace. Only you could make Regulus feel safe, and he loved it.

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sayschu-fanfic · 1 month ago

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Trash Tuesday

Ahhh thank you @smehur for tagging me. Your snippet is fantastic! This little thing has been rotting away in my drafts with the title "pathetic draco" because I love him when he's pathetic. Background: Malfoy is developing interesting potions for Auror use, including one that Malfoy is currently abusing to keep himself invisible to one specific Auror.

"I can't even hate him anymore," Ron complained. "He's too pathetic."

Harry glanced around the Ministry canteen and noticed nothing out of the ordinary. "Who?"

"Malfoy."

For a few seconds, Harry's mind went utterly blank. "You mean Draco Malfoy?" He turned in a circle, straining to see every side and corner of the canteen, but none of the blondes were the shade of spun silver-gold he remembered from years ago.

"Of course, Draco Malfoy, you numpty."

"Where?"

"Are you blind, Harry? We just passed him on our way in. He was rushing out and tripped over his own feet. Or Dirk Mountbatten's feet."

"But that wasn't…I would've…" Weird. He remembered passing Dirk but not Malfoy. How had he missed him? "Has he changed?"

"Changed how? I mean we all have, haven't we?"

Harry could still picture him clearly. First he thought of Malfoy Manor and the faint panic that had been stirring beneath Malfoy's blank expression when he'd refused to identify him. Then he thought of the Room of Requirement and the abject horror they'd shared as they flew away from certain death. Then he settled on his very last memory of Malfoy sitting huddled with his parents in the Great Hall after Voldemort's defeat, looking shell shocked and no less terrified than before. There'd been ashes smudged on his cheek and red burns on his hands. Harry had handed him back his Hawthorn wand without a word spoken between them and that had been that. In the nearly five years since, Harry hadn't seen or heard a thing about him.

How could he not have noticed him? "Are you sure it was Malfoy?"

"You really didn't see him just now?" Ron's worried side-eye seemed to be evaluating him for spell damage. "He's in the Ministry all the time. He's in and out of Robards' office once or twice a month. Eats in the canteen sometimes. I think he must be working here somewhere, though he doesn't wear a uniform, just plain black robes."

Harry was beginning to question his Auror skills. "I've never noticed. Does he look different?"

"Not exactly," Ron hedged. "Just less poncy, I guess, and a lot quieter. Stringy hair, shabby robes, kind of unhealthy, like a blond Snape. He keeps his head down and gets shoved a bit in the corridors. I think he was spat on last week in the atrium. You know how Corlick and Steiner are—they never miss a chance to hassle a Death Eater. Malfoy looks like a light breeze would knock him over. It's just, you know, pathetic. You seriously haven't seen him?"

Harry shook his head.

"I guess you really have changed since school." Ron clapped him on the shoulder and steered him toward the salad bar.

It wasn't until they were seated at a table and Ron had his mouth full of pie barm that Harry asked, "Someone actually spat on him?"

Ron shrugged.

"And he didn't respond to that?"

Ron swallowed. "What's he going to say? 'My father will hear about this'?"

No, Harry didn't suppose he would use his father, currently serving a life sentence in Azkaban, as a threat anymore.

I'm new here and don't have anyone to tag, but I'm going back through all these to follow the awesome writers/artists being tagged!

Trash Tuesday

thank you @faiell for tagging me! 🥰 this scene was written for my story more than i can say. i cut it out because it's overly dramatic, but also because i decided against making draco's relationship with blaise into a full-out subplot as i had originally planned. for those who have read the story, this takes place in the transfiguration class on the morning after harry's and draco's encounter in the ruins.

“Oh. My. God.”

Draco turns to Blaise with a start. For a moment there, the classroom and everyone in it ceased to exist, but now it all rushes back. The shuffle of pages, the murmurs of students, McGonagall’s tireless voice, saying something about ravens and writing desks.

Blaise looks like he’s seen a boggart. “I can’t believe it.”

“What?”

“It’s Potter, isn’t it?”

“What about him?”

Blaise leans in and whispers furiously in Draco’s ear. “Your mystery lover.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Draco hisses.

“You’re ridiculous, trying to deny it. I just saw you!”

“Saw me what?”

“Uh, eye-fuck him?”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

McGonagall’s pacing brings her too close to continue, and both Blaise and Draco bend their heads, pretending to copy down. But as soon as she turns away, Blaise whispers again.

“Are you out of your bloody mind? He hates you!”

Draco clenches his teeth.

“So he keeps you like some dirty secret, or what? Did he make you swear you wouldn’t tell anyone? I bet he did. Saint Potter wouldn’t wanna be seen with a Death Eater, would he?”

“Shut up.” It comes out louder than Draco intended and McGonagall looks at him, thin brows raised over her spectacles. “Sorry,” he mouths, and bends over his parchment again. From the other side of the classroom, Potter watches him: Draco can feel his gaze like the beam of a searchlight, but he can’t risk looking up.

“We’re talking about this later,” Blaise says through his teeth.

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Fine. Be that way.”

But it wouldn’t be Blaise if he just gave up. He catches up with Draco in the hallway and once the crowd thins down, pulls him by the arm behind a tapestry.

“What do you want from me?” Draco cries, yanking himself free. “I told you—”

“Draco. He hates you.”

“He doesn’t! Not anymore. He saved my life thrice now, for Merlin’s sake.”

“So what, you owe him? To be his whore?”

Draco’s vision darkens and before he knows it, he’s got Blaise pinned to the wall with a wand in his navel a forearm at his throat. “Fuck. Off.”

Blaise stares at him defiantly, breathing hard and trying to swallow to no avail. But he says nothing, and after a few moments, the dark haze clears from Draco’s eyes. He steps back, straightens his robes, and walks away, shaking like a leaf.

would love to see discarded bits from WIPs or posted things from @fluxweeed @cailynwrites @arminaa8 @thecouchsofa @sayschu-fanfic and anyone who'd like to hop onto this train! ❤️

#trash tuesday #drarry #wip snip #amwriting

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illy-7 · 2 years ago

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Mess

Remus Lupin x Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: Heavy making out (it gets heated), mentions smoking and alcohol, one bed trope, fluff

A/n- Hi! This is the first fanfic I’ve ever written so I’m kinda nervous posting it! I hope you enjoy and let me know what you think! :]

The quiet idle hum of busy London traffic rattled through the underpass.

Panting and out of breath the two desperately pushed their backs against the exposed brick.

“Spose that was a bit of a mess wasn’t it love?”

Love

That stupid name that the older man always used made your stomach flutter in anticipation.

Thunder rattled the walls around you as rain pelted the eroded street. Your now soaked clothes clung pathetically to your shivering frame.

“Not really how I planned to spend my Friday no… so yeah- I’d say it was a bit of a mess”

You bit back a cheeky smile as you peeked back up at the older man. His brown hair was ruffled from the rainwater, a bead of water running off of a strand, it dripped down onto the tip of your nose.

This was supposed to be an easy mission, as Alastor had put it. It was really a way for you to be babysat. You were a younger member in the Order, that was true, yes. But you had earned a spot like everyone else there. Ever since you joined you have been shuffled around filing paperwork or some other arbitrary task. You wanted action, adventure, you wanted to feel important. God only knew how run dry the other members were, a whole nother person would lessen the load immensely. After begging and pleading to Alastor for weeks, he finally broke and allowed you to go on a ‘information gathering’ outing as he put it.

Practically bursting from your seat in joy, it wasn’t until you found out you’d be tagging along and not leading this mission that your mood dipped. That was until Alastor told you who you’d be tagging along with Remus.

Remus was an older member of the Order. He was around when it first was formed. Not like he acted like it. Remus seemed like an outsider, he didn’t party and celebrate with the others after missions, he was never a drunk or rowdy. He normally sat in the corner during these parties and sipped on some alcoholic beverage or puffed on a cigarette while flipping through a novel.

This was very strange to you, and being naive and inexperienced, it peaked your interest. How could someone with such an air of mystery surrounding him in a puff of smoke be almost always forgotten. Not that he didn’t have friends, when he wasn’t tucked away you could normally find him chatting with Sirius, which was strange in it of itself because of how opposing their personalities seemed to be.

You made it a personal habit to observe the smoky man from afar, indulging in your childish fantasies about the brooding man. How he would hold you, kiss you, grab you, how he would stroke and touch your-

But that’s all these were, fantasies. As much as you wished that these dreams could be possible, they just weren’t. For whatever reason, Remus never got close to people, kept them at an arms length. Even when Tonks, an attractive witch with spunky purple hair made attempts to woo the man. He seemed uninterested. Not in a rude way, on the contrary he was very kind. So kind in fact that Tonk often left him after being rejected with a soft smile on her face and a pep in her step. He didn’t speak much about his past or his scars that littered his body, but from what you gathered, most of the Order understood the story behind them. You never wanted to make him feel uncomfortable so you never asked, and subsequently he never told.

But now here you were. 30 feet under muggles pacing about their busy lives staring into those big brown eyes of the kind smoky man. The mission was simple really, collect eye witness reports on a Death Eater attack. One thing led to another and Remus was rushing you down a dank alley with the threat of Death Eaters chasing after you.

“I don’t think it would be a smart idea to head back to the house, we’ll lie low tonight and tomorrow morning I’ll return you home. Is that alright with you?”

The way his tall frame was bent around you as he spoke made your skin heat and your eyes droop as you lazily nodded up to him.

“Good. Now I know a place where we can get a nice cup of tea. Would you like that love?”

The idea of a warm cup of tea cutting through the cold that had seeped into your soul sounded heavenly.

“Fuckin hell that sounds great.”

A smile quirked his lips as he grasped your shoulders and whirled you around. He began walking, ushering you out from under the underpass and onto the path needed to get the tea. His hand lingered on your lower back as you both walked down the dreary streets of London. The streetlights cast a muddy glow to the sidewalk in the evening hours.

After a few blocks of wandering, Remus stopped in front of a shop. Pushing the heavy wooden door open with a soft grunt, the bell on the door chimed. Holding the door open for you as you stepped into the old run down shop.

What a gentleman

He walked over to the counter with a soft smile on his face as you hovered around his back awkwardly.

“Evening, two black teas please.”

You reached for your pocket to fish out a few sickles to pay for the tea before Remus’ large hand pulled your eager fingers away from their destination. Your eyes glanced up at him.

“Really love, I can pay for your tea.”

He sported a boyish grin as he grabbed the fresh cups of steaming tea and ushered you to a cozy table pressed up against the rain covered window.

“Here we are, and… here is your tea”

He placed the cup in front of you while dipping his head low against the table and looking up at you with puppy dog eyes through his lashes.

“I feel like you’re mad at me. Are you mad at me?”

Your eyes twitched together in confusion.

“Mad at you? Why would I be mad?”

He reached across the table, which wasn’t very difficult considering his lanky arms. Pulling wet pieces of hair out of your face.

“You’re quiet, too quiet. More quiet then you normally are.”

He did have a point, you were abnormally quiet. Not because you weren’t enjoying his company, quite the contrary. His company was driving you insane, your insides were all jumbled up and if you tried to strike up a conversation with him you were pretty sure you would say something stupid.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to seem quiet, I’m just tired. It’s really nothing to do with you.”

Lies

“If you’re tired we can stop and get a room, there’s a motel a block or so over. It’s really late anyways…”

He glanced over at the clock on the wall that read 2:37am.

You both finished your tea quickly and left the shop. Wandering after Remus as the rain pelted your newly dried hair turning it soggy once more. As you wandered further towards the motel’s location the surrounding area became more deserted. A wolf whistle sounded from across the street which had you freezing in your tracks.

Remus’ ears perked up and he sent the whistler a dirty look as he grabbed your hand while pulling you to walk in front of him.

“Don’t be nervous love, I’m right here, nothing is going to happen.”

The comforting words sent a heat straight into the pit of your stomach. Despite the embarrassment that burned your face from being catcalled like that, the words that Remus spoke did more than enough to soothe your worries.

Finally you arrived at the motel. It definitely could have been in better shape but since there wasn’t another one around for blocks, this would have to do.

Remus’ words interrupted your thoughts,

“Oh, Can you please not tell Alastor about the whole Death Eaters almost catching us thing, because honestly he’ll have my neck, especially after convincing him to let you come along-“

Before you could even react to what he had just said, he was already chatting with the woman behind the desk about getting two rooms. What did he mean, that he convinced Alastor. He wanted you to come along?

“Oh, alright that should be fine, thank you.” Remus said with a small frown.

The woman looked up at him with sleep filled eyes,

“No problem hun, here’s your key for you and your girlfriend.”

Girlfriend? She thought you were a couple? As your head was spinning with the comment, Remus led you up a flight of stairs and to an old crappy looking door.

“Now, I have to warn you, there was only one room left. Since this is really our only option we are going to have to make it work.”

He swung open the door to the tiny room. The only thing inside was a single bed.

“There’s a bathroom through here, so why don’t you go take a hot shower and I’ll set up our room.”

Nodding in an embarrassed trance, you stumbled into the bathroom swinging the door closed behind you and leaning your head against it. Everything was fine, supposing you don’t combust from pure desire, you’ll be fine.

After your shower you wrapped a towel around yourself and peeked your head around the door. There in only his boxers laying pillows and blankets down on the floor was Remus.

What the fuck…

His eyes pulled back to yours and you noticed him taking a quick glance over you before smiling and handing you his undershirt.

“It’s the only dry thing I can give you, sorry.”

You shook your head before retreating back into the bathroom to put it on. Exiting clad in only Remus’ undershirt and a pair of underwear, you were sweating bullets at the thought of sharing a bed with him. What stopped you dead in your tracks was the sight of Remus, crumpled up into a ball on the floor with only a pillow and a blanket. This was just pathetic.

“Cmon, you’re not sleeping on the floor, just get into bed.”

You huffed before climbing under the covers waiting for him to join you.

He glanced up, “You sure?”

“Yeah I’m sure.”

He climbed in beside you before turning off the lamp. The room was cascaded into darkness, only the soft noise of the combined breath and tap of rain against the window could be heard. A shiver racked through your body as the cold and damp conditions finally set in.

You froze at the feeling of Remus’ large hand wrapping around your tummy.

“Is this okay?”

“Yes.”

“You’re cold.” He commented before rubbing soothing circles around your front.

You turned around so you could face him, eyes staring at each other in the dark. You couldn’t take it anymore, the teases, the holding of the hands, the protectiveness. You couldn’t hold your feelings back any longer. If that meant he’d kick you out onto the street to fend for yourself so be it.

You hesitantly ghosted your lips over his. So soft and delicately that he almost could have missed it.

A heavy silence took over the room, neither party moved. A part of you regretted kissing him, wondering if you misread his intentions. That was until he held your face in his hands and brought your lips to his once more.

Every burning minute was poured from his mouth to yours, gasping for breath and peeling your hands from his damp hair. His hand held both of yours above your head with ease since you dwarfed him in most aspects. Curling over you as he licked stripes up the side of your neck.

Whispering sweet praises into your ear caused your body to twitch with need. Your hips found his thigh and the slight rocking motion caused both of you to freeze.

“Dirty girl,”

Remus licked over your closed lips before flipping both of you over so you were straddling his lap. Soft pants and gasps were all that could be heard. The creak of the old bed echoed down the hall as you both pathetically humped each other, so desperate but too nervous to take it one step further. A soft whine escaped your lips as he grabbed onto your boobs through your undershirt and rocked you down onto his lap,

“Christ, now this is a fucking mess isn’t it?”

#remus #Remus Lupin #remus fanfiction #remus x reader #remus lupin x reader #mauraders #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #mauraders fanfic #x reader

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phoebe-delia · 3 years ago

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I have been writing fic since April, and the fact that I have not written a single fic to this song is honestly criminal. I have snubbed it in lists of Drarry as TS songs, I have forgotten about it despite it being on my FAVORITE TAYLOR SWIFT ALBUM!!

The song is "Sparks Fly," and it's worth looking up the lyrics to see the extent of my foolishness. Here's just a snippet: "Drop everything now/Meet me in the pouring rain/Kiss me on the sidewalk/Take away the pain/'Cause I see, sparks fly, whenever you smile/Get me with those green eyes, baby/As the lights go down/Gimme something that'll haunt me whenever you're not around/'Cause I see, sparks fly, when you smile."

I've had this fic idea so many times and kept forgetting it but I will neglect it no longer! And for all my talk about "oh all I do are TS songfics omg" I don't think I've written one in like a month, which is a while for me 😂. Okay enough of my rambling, enjoy!

There should be laws against this.

Really, I'm shocked the Ministry doesn't have stringent rules against co-workers dating. I can't believe we only had to fill out a measly little form. At first, I thought they were letting you—The Golden Gryffindor Goody-Goody, Gawky, Gallant, Git—(what? you wanted a pet name!) skirt the usual bureaucracy, but no, this is standard practice for the Ministry of Magic when it comes to workplace relationships.

I know this is where you remind me that we're not actually co-workers, that we just collaborate on the occasional case where Aurors and Cursebreakers are both needed. Which, to be fair to me, is bloody often enough for you to be a horrible diversion at work.

I have a reputation to uphold, you know. I'm Draco Malfoy, Cursebreaker Extraordinaire, Reformed Death Eater and Lovable Former Bad Boy. I rule every space I bless with my presence using nothing but my wit, intelligence, and perfectly-tailored robes.

But you make all of that fall to utter shit just by looking at me. I become a simpering, pathetic mess for you, and the only consolation for my pride is the heat in your eyes when I let even a fraction of the effect you have on me show outwardly.

I like to keep you on your toes. Sometimes I blush, or I let my breathing quicken for an instant. Other times I'm bold enough to bite my lip, to let my eyes drop to your mouth, linger, and then quickly look back up again.

Do you not know what you do to me? You have to, by now, because that smirk of yours is more deadly than the wand in your hostler. Not to mention your eyes; Merlin those things are hypnotic. They should be researched by one of your Cursebreaker buddies for containing the Imperius curse because when I look into them they make me want to do things that are entirely out of character.

They must be in cahoots with your hands, your smile, and your gruff growl to whisk me into empty corridors and elicit reactions and noises from me that are...indecorous, to say the least.

It's not much better when I'm alone, you know. I still think about you even in the solitude of my office. I am surrounded by files and paperwork, not to mention my own memorabilia and carefully-selected decor to make this space a haven in the bowels of the government building, and yet I am consumed by thoughts and memories of you you you you. A sunburn might hurt more under the rays of the planet which caused it, but the ache remains even in the shade. (If you make one, and I mean one, joke about you being the sun in my life, I will hex you so hard it'll make the Weaslette's Bat Bogey seem like a hug.)

All threats jokes aside, Potter, I find myself utterly taken with you, besotted to the point that I fear I need to see a Healer about the lightness of my head and the fullness of my heart in my chest. I'm deliriously happy, and it's all your fault.

I burn for you. I pine for you, more than ever, which is saying something considering how gone for you I thought I was when we were in school. Each day I am confronted with the unbelievable fact that you call yourself mine, and me yours, and I have to believe that it's true.

I'm yours; yours yours yours.

It should be against the law. It's against the laws of nature, really, and yet the force with which we were brought together seems on par with the pull of gravity, the strength of hurricanes, and the speed of tornadoes. We defy weather and time and space and logic, and yet we make perfect sense, don't we?

I don't know where I'm going with this; I rarely do when it comes to you. But following my instincts when it comes to you, while it used to bring negative consequences in the short-term, has now become the best modus operandi for me, because my instincts are inherent and not inherited. Does that make sense? It does, to me. It means that I'm following my own impulses and hunches and gut feelings, rather than asking myself how my bastard father would handle a challenge and following that path blindly.

I'm self-aware enough to know that I'm now rambling, and that I should've ended this—diary entry? Missive? Whatever this is—several paragraphs ago, if not binned it immediately. But my instincts say that you reading this is the right choice. If this winds up in the bin, I'll have chickened out, but with any luck, I'm currently pacing in my office, wringing my hands and wondering if you're laughing at my expense and taking Weasley's betting money and proclaiming that you "got that Malfoy bastard to fall in love! Ha! Pay up! I told you he was obsessed with me!"

Just. Get your arse over here as soon as you read this. And then kiss away my fears until all I can remember, all I can comprehend, is you.

You you you you.

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tonksxandromeda · 5 months ago

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Andromeda could only laugh if he asked if he had insulted her. It was certainly convenient that he would leave that part out. Still, she did not expect an apology from him, nor was she hurt at all by what he had said. She realized that if she was going to listen to him point out all the things he believed she had done wrong, she was going to need a drink. She picked up her glass of wine and took a small drink as she waited silently for him to finish. "I hardly think I tested your temper that much. You were in a foul mood the moment you arrived and threw a tantrum about needing to see Miray."

She could feel her irritation rising and she set her glass down before she decided to throw it at him. "Miray could not be found, and while it might have been tempting to leave you to rot in a room until we could find her. That is not what we do." She did her best to keep her voice civil. Though it was difficult when Rabastan seemed to know exactly how to push her buttons. "I am also an excellent healer. If I had honored your pathetic request no doubt you'd have lost an arm. Or perhaps we wouldn't be here as you've said. But only because if I hadn't done anything it's likely you would be dead now." She sat back, shaking her head. "I stabilized you whether you like to admit it or not. You're welcome."

While she may not have the name any longer, she was still a Black at heart. And so as he studied her, she did not back away. Green eyes locked with his, a challenge in them, daring him to say anything further. Even as she watched him she could see those signs of exhaustion, of a body that had seen a bed and rest for too long while it healed. She was too busy studying him, that the question caught her off guard. It took a moment for it to sink in, and once it had she couldn't help another laugh.

"Resolve this?" There was disbelief in her voice, even though she knew this was precisely why he'd asked her to come. "As if this is some minor issue that could easily be fixed?" She shook her head. "Why should I remain silent? The two of you are death eaters..." It was the first time she had said the words aloud, allowing them to fully sink in. "What you stand for, believe in...it threatens the life I've built. It stands to reason that the way to handle that threat is for me to take your names to the Ministry." She was bluffing of course, otherwise she would have already gone to the Ministry with the information.

He could feel her eyes on him, moving discreetly and cautiously. Such attention would once have pleased him. Now, he felt nothing, wanting only to proceed with this meeting as efficiently and painlessly as possible. He had meant his words; he did not intend to hurt her, and neither did he want to. His preference was to reach some agreement, whereby they could both go about their lives without fear of repercussion. Andromeda was a traitor and now perhaps an enemy. But she was a pureblooded daughter of the House of Black, the sister of his brother's wife, and a woman he had once admired more highly than all others. Though he had cast her aside with the savage judgement she'd deserved, these facts remained true. Some truths could not be ignored, no matter how intensely he loathed them.

Reaching for his drink, he sat back and took a generous sip. It was the first time alcohol had touched his lips since his accident. He felt he needed it, and he was glad for the heated burn that seared his throat as he swallowed. Stern eyes pinning on her as she spoke, he tried to recall the events of that unfortunate time at St Mungo's. But most of it was a blur, fading from some point after he'd caused a scene and re-emerging from another point when Miray had appeared. In-between was a flurry of fever and distress, the latter not something that Rabastan wished to acknowledge. He was still angry about how he had been treated, believing he'd been entitled to the Healer of his choosing, and affronted that his wishes had not been followed.

"Did I insult you?" he asked. "If I did, I don't recall. However, I do remember feeling particularly unwell and not appreciating my temper being deliberately tested." She had done a good job at pressing his buttons, and - unfairly - he attributed his rapid decline to the effort of trying to counter her. "Miray is my Healer. She does excellent work and knows me well, and that is why I'd wanted her in the first place. Perhaps if my request had been honoured, we would not be sitting here, now."

Propping the glass back onto the table, he studied her. He was uninterested in prolonging conversation and wanted to conclude this as soon as possible. She had been looking for signs of damage; perhaps now, while he stared with unflinching watchfulness, she might note some dullness in his eyes or the trace of sallow shadows lingering over pale skin. It was truly bizarre, sitting here with her. He had never expected to talk to her again. He did not like it.

"How do we resolve this, Andromeda? What would ensure your silence? For me and Alecto."

#c: rabastan #c: rabastan02

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lucisfavoritedemon · 3 years ago

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Broken Trust: Fake Dating Draco Part 2

Pairing: Draco x reader

Summary: After the events that played out over Winter Holiday, things between you and Draco have become, well, awkward. How do you both handle the feelings you have for each other with the fear of threats hanging over your heads?

Word Count: 2046

Warnings: Angst, threats, heartbroken Draco.

A/N: Rewrite of an original request by @harrypotter289.

Divider by: @firefly-graphics

Enjoy!

The school year was almost over. You and Draco hadn’t talked since Winter Holiday. The letters were getting more and more severe. Not only from Draco’s father, but from your parents who were begging that you weren’t lying to them. That their daughter actually is doing something good for herself for once in her life.

The threats coming in from Mr. Malfoy were horrible. Threatening that the Death Eaters would hurt your family if you did not stop the nonsense you had created. It honestly broke you down each and every day that you couldn’t be with Draco.

A week before Summer Holiday you got a letter from my parents asking if you were bringing Draco home for the summer. You wished that they would have sent the letter at night or something, but no. During breakfast, of all times when you were surrounded by other students.

“Ooh, Y/N got a letter.” One of the girls said, yanking it out of your hand.

You tried to grab it back before she could read it, but the damage had been done when the letter arrived.

“You and Draco. No way. He would never go out with someone like you.”

You tried to cover your feelings, for your family’s safety and your sanity, “I was only using Draco to get my parents to let me be. We’re not dating. I mean you’re right, he’s too good for me, and he’s pathetic enough to believe that I could actually like someone like him.” You wanted to say that it was none of their business what happened in your personal lives. They had no right to say who you or who Draco could and could not date.

Just then you saw someone stop in the middle of the aisles of the great hall. You knew it was Draco, just your luck, and you knew you had done it this time. You yanked the letter out the girl’s hands and took off after Draco.

“Draco stop please.” You hollard as you ran out of the Great Hall and into the hallway

He just kept walking as if he didn’t hear you. You needed to fix what you had done. You needed him to know how you truly felt. He needed to know why, he deserved to know why.

“Draco stop!” Your voice echoed through the empty halls which made him stop. “Draco, please let me explain.”

“Why should I? After everything you have said to me, and what you said in the hall. I don’t think I want to.”

“Draco, you deserve to know what happened between us after holiday. As for what happened in there, she took the letter from my parents asking if I was bringing you over for Summer Holiday. She told me that I wasn’t any good for you, or why would you even be interested in me. I came up with a cover to protect your reputation. It seems all I keep doing is hurting you when I’m just trying to protect you.”

He sighs and looks down as if he were going to say something, but he stops himself.

“Meet me in the library after class and I’ll explain everything. I just need 10 minutes, after that you can choose to believe me, or choose to walk away.”

“I trust you.”

Those words threw you for a loop, and you swore you saw a little smile tug at the corner of his mouth. You didn’t think that he would ever be able to say that he trusts you. You wouldn;t blame him if he didn’t.

“Y-You mean that?”

He nods as his smile grows a bit bigger, “meet you in the library after class then.” He walks off leaving you in the hall alone.

You go back to your dorm to get ready for your morning classes. You were just anxious to talk to him. Get things straightened out, and maybe you two could talk about a relationship, if that was still on the table for you two anymore.. Part of you hoped that you and him could end up with a happy ending after so much effort, but you knew that it was unlikely.

You headed down to class and just hoped that your morning went well. You had just two classes to get through before you got the chance to explain yourself. Two classes of anticipation, hoping to not get shot down immediately.

Class was, well, boring. It didn’t help that you wanted to punch the girl that read my letter in the face. She was clearly flirting with Draco, and he just let it happen. Like the conversation you and him had after breakfast didn’t matter to him anymore. Not that there was anything between the two of you, and you had really no right to be jealous, but it still hurt you.

“So Draco, you want to go to Hogsmead with me this afternoon? We can get Butterbeer then grab a bite to eat.” She bit her lip and giggled, it made you sick honestly.

“As much as I’d like to take you up on that offer. I have a prior engagement that needs my attention.” His attention was on a book he was reading until he mentioned the prior engagement, then his eyes went to you for a brief moment before he returned to his book.

“Maybe after this prior engagement?”

“We’ll see. If I do decide to go I’ll be waiting for you in the three broomsticks in the corner booth. If I’m not there by 12:30, then assume my meeting went well and that I’m in good hands.”

“Wouldn’t it be the other way around?”

Merlin, you wanted to punch this girl so bad. Did she not get the hint that he wasn’t interested. He obviously had to know that she was part of the reason why you and him were not on good terms.

“If you really want to go out with me, and not just to spite others then you would accept that some things need my attention more than others. And this would need my attention more than some girl who just wants to use me to spite Y/N.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle a little. This girl got caught big time, and it was hilarious.

“How dare you think I don’t actually want to go out with you, and besides,” she glances over her shoulder, “why would you even give her the time of day? Did you hear what she said about you?”

“Yes. I’m well aware and she wants to discuss what happened. Tell me her side. I know your side, and I want her’s. It’s only fair.”

“You should never be fair to a backstabber.”

“We’ll see who truly is the backstabber.”

Your final class was dismissed and you ran to the library. You knew that you had to at least hope that he would show up as agreed, but you wanted to make things right, even if he didn’t want to be with you in the end. At the very least you wanted your friend back. You had ruined everything by telling him nothing could happen between the two of you without reasoning. You knew that you both wanted this, the least you could do was give an explanation.

You sat at the farthest table from the entrance and waited for him. Minutes ticked by and your hope grew lesser by the second. Your biggest fear had come true, he decided he didn’t want to hear whatever poor excuse you had that was only going to break his heart further. You didn’t blame either for not showing up.

You pulled out the letters as tears formed in your eyes. You did everything that was asked of you, and for what? To get your heart broken over and over every time you see his face. Just because his father deemed you unsuitable for his precious son.

You were about to give up and head to your dorm when you saw him standing in the doorway glancing at the clock. How could you have missed him? Huffing and glancing nearly every five seconds.

You get up and go to him seeing the hope having left his face as well, “Draco?”

“There you are. I’ve been waiting nearly half an hour.” He sounded rightfully irritated.

“I guess we should have agreed where in the library. I’ve been sitting at the back table waiting. I didn’t even see you come in.”

“Yeah, well what is it you wanted to show me? Or tell me. I have plans.” His irritation grew to impatience.

Your heart sank, and it clearly showed on your face, “you can meet up with her after I’ve said my peace. I have low hopes of things changing between you and I. I’ve screwed everything up, and for what, to please your father, to finally have my parents tell me that they are proud of their daughter? None of it was worth it if all I’m doing is hurting myself, and you. I have made peace with the fact that I have lost every chance I’ve had to be with you, but I care about you Draco, and maybe at the very least we could be friends, or acquaintances.” You looked down holding back the tears that were threatening to fall.

He looks down as a sigh escapes his mouth, that’s when he notices the letters in his father’s hand writing in your hands. He didn’t think his father could ever stoop so low, yet again it was his father he was talking about.

“H-He’s been threatening you hasn’t he?”

You nod your head keeping it low.

“My father is the reason why you said everything that happened wasn’t real? Or that it couldn’t be?”

You nod again, “It wasn’t just him, but yes. I was going to ask if you wanted to come stay with me and my family for Summer Holiday, but I’ll understand if this is where you want to leave things between us. I’ll tell them that we fell through and that you won’t be joining us if that is what you wish.”

You keep your head down, waiting for him to walk away. To leave you with silence there in the library with nothing but hateful letters and a broken heart. Then you felt a finger lift your chin up gently. Your eyes meeting with a pair of icey blue ones.

“I would love to join you and your family over holiday. Under one condition?”

“Name it. Anything.”

“We put a stop to the act and do this thing for real?”

“Y-You mean that?”

“Yes, and don’t worry about what my father says. I’ll take care of him. I just want you to say you’ll be mine.”

You smile at him, the sadness replaced by utter happiness. He returns the smile so happy that you actually cared for him. You jump in his arms, wrapping yours around his neck. He holds you tightly, scared if he lets you go, this will all disappear.

“What do you say we go to Hogsmead for our first official date?” He spoke keeping his hold on you

“I would love to go on a date with you, Malfoy.” You giggle as Draco finally releases you from the hug and takes your hand, intertwining your fingers as you head to Hogsmead.

You felt bad that you made that girl so angry that she stormed out when she saw the two of you sitting in the back corner booth together. You both kind of giggled thinking that it was a little funny someone thought they could get between the two of you.

Summer had finally arrived and you were excited to see your family again and this time actually have a boyfriend to show them. A Malfoy nonetheless. Draco grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers as you both boarded the train together. For once, he actually had a genuine smile on his face.

As he held you tight in his arms that night you knew that things would turn out ok. That he would protect you, no matter what his father threatened. You knew that he was the one for you, and he knew you were the one for him.

#harry potter #hp fanfic #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy #fake dating

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strawwritesfic · 3 years ago

Text

Draco Malfoy x Female!Ghost!Reader: Haunt

Summary: The dead don’t have to be present to haunt us.

Rating/Warnings/Tags: T (reference to death; reference to murder; set post-Battle of Hogwarts; referenced past!Draco & Myrtle friendship; referenced past!Harry & Reader friendship; reader’s house unspecified)

Challenge: "115 Words" challenge by BonitaWolfSpirit on Lunaesence Archives.

Tag List: @imaginesfire

Haunt

The halls of Hogwarts rang with a strange sort of emptiness the morning after that final battle. Bright sunlight swept inside through windows and craters alike. All the bodies—regardless of their life’s allegiance—had long been removed to the Great Hall for identification and mourning. That was where all the living remained as well, except for the solitary young man that stood staring blankly at the remaining wreckage strewn before him.

Draco Malfoy knew that he did not have much time. Shock lay thick over all of Hogwarts’ inhabitants, but it would not last forever. Soon someone—perhaps Potter, perhaps not—would remember that three among their grieving number did not belong. The Dark Lord was gone; the threat to the Malfoy family was not. Draco had no delusions that he would not be taken away along with his parents to whatever crude prison might be erected without the dementors to guard Azkaban. The Dark Mark burned into his arm would make certain of that.

“[Name].”

No one answered the single word that fell from his pale lips. Nothing stirred at hearing it either. And why should they? You were dead. Draco had seen your body in that very corridor only a year ago. The darkness then made it difficult to tell for sure, and he’d been moving so quickly that he had hoped, despite Aunt Bella’s gleeful assurances to the contrary, that he had imagined it. Perhaps he had imagined what he had seen that very morning, too.

“[Name]!” he called again, now moving down the hall. “[Name], come out. It’s me.”

Even when his foot collided with a chunk of the wall that had caved in during the fight, he did not stop. Here. You had to be here, and he’d be damned if he went anywhere else before he talked to you. He would pace for hours if he had to. Harry Potter himself would not be able to stop him. Draco would not leave until he knew the truth for sure.

“[Name], please.”

If anyone were to spot him, what would they think? Draco Malfoy, the youngest Death Eater to ever be inducted, the orchestrator of Albus Dumbledore’s death, talking—no, pleading—with thin air? Malfoys did not go mad, and they did not plead. Not until that day.

“[Name], I—”

“She doesn’t want to talk to you.”

A girl’s transparent head pushed out of the thick wood door to Draco’s left. The rest of her equally transparent body soon followed.

“Myrtle,” Draco said. Why had he not thought of Myrtle? She was his friend. She was dead. She would understand. Had she not always assured him that she understood?

“Hello, Draco,” she said, with none of the previous sympathy that he had relied upon.

“Where is [Name]? Have you seen her?” he asked.

“So you’re not listening to me anymore either, I see. I told you, she doesn’t want to talk to you. Neither do I, come to think of it.”

Myrtle began to drift away in the direction Draco had come from. He watched her go, torn. True, in life Moaning Myrtle had been a muggle-born, and she had spent all her time since her death being a pathetic nuisance to all who dared enter her bathroom. He counted himself lucky that he had missed the worst of her behavior on account of not using that bathroom by default. Still, she had been his sole confidant for one of the worst years of his life. He could not just let her leave.

“Wait!” he said, and made the mistake of trying to make her do so. His hand contracted right through her arm.

She did pause, but didn’t seem to care all that she’d made him feel chill to the bone. “What do you want, Malfoy?”

“Since when do you call me Malfoy?”

“Since I found out that all your sniveling was over murder.”

“I didn’t want to do it.”

“But you still tried.” Her glasses flashed. “Did you think it would be a laugh, making me feel sorry for you? Stupid Myrtle, being kind to a murderer? Well, Malfoy, I’m not laughing, and neither is [Name].”

“I didn’t, I swear. But—”

“Goodbye,” Myrtle said.

When she took off the second time, she did so at a greater speed. Once she rounded the corner, his only chance to speak to you would vanish along with her. A year spent stuck inside his home had not prepared Draco for the kind of running necessary to keep up with someone who didn’t need to use their legs, unfortunately, and he could not keep up no matter how hard he tried.

“I’m sorry!” he shouted after her.

The shameful confession rebounded back to him a thousand times in the empty hallway. His face burned. Slowly, Myrtle drifted back toward him, her eyes narrowed with intense dislike behind the thick lenses of her glasses.

“Why should I believe you?” she asked.

“Because I loved her.”

After considering him for another eternity, she finally nodded. Then she disappeared through the closest wall once more.

Draco held his breath for one minute. Two. Perhaps she had been lying to him. Perhaps you couldn’t be convinced. Perhaps he had been mistaken. The Grey Lady was also a young, beautiful dead woman. A trick of the light during the celebration of the Dark Lord’s defeat, and here he was embarrassing himself and his family by mooning after a girl he hadn’t seen for ages. He had just made up his mind to return to the Great Hall before someone saw him in this humiliating position when a second ghost appeared to him.

“Draco,” you said, so coldly that an even worse chill than before slid up his spine.

All he could do was stare at you, like a stupid house-elf. It was as though Draco were staring at a photograph of you, so unaltered was your appearance from the one he knew—save for the transparency and lack of color, obviously. So Aunt Bella had been right. You had died the night he let the Death Eaters inside Hogwarts. He would not have been surprised if she had cast the Killing Curse herself.

“I assume you didn’t summon me just to gape,” you snapped.

Had he truly been silent for so long? “No.”

“Then why don’t you spit it out? I’ve got all the time in the world, and I still don’t want to spend another minute of it in your company.”

“Don’t be like that.”

“I have the right to ‘be like that.’ Really, Draco? All that change of heart talk was rubbish. You used me.”

“I didn’t,” he said. “I promise.”

“So you didn’t try to kill Professor Dumbledore?”

“He made me—”

“And you didn’t willingly take the Dark Mark?”

“If I refused—”

“And you didn’t let a bunch of your Death Eater pals inside the castle and get me killed?”

Guilt bubbled like overcooked potion in his chest. A year of the sensation had tortured him. When he had spied you with the other Hogwarts ghosts that morning, Draco had thought he might be able to rid himself of it for good. He could apologize. He could explain. He could be forgiven. The look on your face made it clear that none of that would happen. Swallowing, he tried to speak again:

“You don’t understand.”

“I understand that Harry was right about you all along. You’re nothing but a lowdown, blood-purity fanatic. I never should have trusted you.”

Draco’s lips curled. Potter. Of course. Even in your death, he came between you. Perfect saintly Potter, your friend, your idol, the reason Draco could never really tell you how he felt because the idea of Potter knowing would have been enough to kill him. But Draco pushed the thought away. He would consider Potter at a later date.

“I didn’t mean any of it. I didn’t do it. I didn’t kill Dumbledore. Professor Snape did.”

“Do you think I care?” you demanded. “So you didn’t finish the job. You intended to.”

He could tell you were about to go the same way as Myrtle: out of his life forever. This was his last chance. Who knew where you would go while he was locked away? How would he survive with this horrible feeling in his bones?

“I didn’t intend for you to die,” he said softly.

This had the opposite effect that he had hoped for: Your glare turned harder than ever. “But anybody else—any muggle-born, any friend of Harry’s, any witch or wizard that would fight You-Know-Who that wasn’t me—they could die? I don’t want to hear it!” you said when he opened his mouth to protest further. To his shock, silvery tears gathered in your eyes. “I’m not anything special. You just wanted me to think you thought I was.”

His tongue felt too thick to move inside his mouth. It was not often that Draco found himself speechless, rarer still was when he was forced to admit that someone else was right. All of this had started less than genuinely. You were supposed to be his line to Potter and his pals. Nothing more. Just like all his other plans, that, too, had turned to ruin.

“You are special.”

Something flared in your ghostly eyes. His heart leaped, then fell as you turned away from him. “If you thought so, you’d have known I wouldn’t stand back while Hogwarts was invaded.”

“I’m sorry, all right? I’m sorry, [Name].” As undignified as crying was, hot tears spilled down his cheeks. “I never meant it. If I could take it all back, I would. You have to forgive me. I-I can’t sleep. I can’t eat. I can’t do anything. I just keep thinking about what I did to you.”

“Good. I hope my death haunts you. I hope my death haunts you for the rest of your miserable, cowardly life, because I certainly am not going to do it myself!”

“But—”

“I don’t care. I don’t care what excuses you have, and I don’t forgive you. Go away, Draco, and don’t come back. If I see you in this castle again, I’ll have Peeves drop a chandelier on your head.”

Then you flew through the ceiling without giving him another opportunity to speak.

He stared at the place you had vanished, hoping against hope that you would change your mind and return to him. You did not. Draco was forced to walk back to the Great Hall with the guilt still gnawing at his core. The sensation would not ebb, no matter what he did, no matter how his parents embraced him, no matter how long the celebration went on. With the fall of the Dark Lord, he should have felt relief in knowing that his long nightmare was finally over. Instead, all he felt was dread.

You’d get your wish. Even without ever appearing to him again, you’d haunt Draco for the rest of his days.

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