#dark harry potter smut
Text
Obsession
Tom Riddle X Fem OC/Reader
Word Count: 5K
Warnings: Mild language, Graphic, Smut, Toxic, Possessive, Protective, Angst, Fluff, Suggestive, Anger…
Prompt: Y/N Black is a mystery to many. She isn’t interested in making friends, only her studies. However, unbeknownst to many, one boy has piqued her interest——Tom Riddle. Little did she know, he had an obsession with her.
Sidenote: I did use some spells from the vampire diaries just for the heck of it. I may do a part two, but I’m not sure if it really needs it. I’ll leave it up to you guys!
Everyone seemed more chattier than usual. Maybe it was the upcoming Yule Ball or maybe it was because holidays were approaching. However, you hated the buzzing chatter, the obnoxious shouting, and all of the crowded halls. You had tried to go to the library as an escape from this madness, but everyone had infiltrated the library even.
You were the Scrooge that everybody was painfully aware of as you stormed through the halls with your books clutched to your chest. If you were a Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, or Gryffindor, they would have laughed at the irked expression on your face. However, knowing you were a Slytherin strikes fear in many.
Not to mention you were a mystery to many. You were oh so quiet, along with a freakishly amount of smart, and an unearthly amount of beautiful. You chose to stick to yourself, choosing to not make any friends. You instead chose to have acquaintances in case a group project popped up, however you normally managed to worm your way out of that so you could work alone.
That was how you preferred doing things, alone. Other students have given up on trying to befriend you, seeing it as pointless. Guys would still try and ask you out, but their advances failed. They hadn’t noticed that your interest was piqued by a boy already. However, it seemed that he was just like you.
Tom Riddle was a handsome young man with jet black curly-ish hair and dark brown eyes that looked almost black from afar. He was fairly tall and had a lean look. His face was always blank…passive as he studied or walked through the halls or even when he was with his group of “friends”. They were his followers in his mind, not his friends. To anyone else, they saw them as a happy friend group.
You had noticed the things that anyone would pick up about Tom from afar, like his intelligence. Tom excelled in all of his classes, in fact he was tied at the top of the year with you. He too was introverted, preferring to be alone and in silence. For someone as passive as Tom, you noticed things he did. When he was judging something, he’d lean back in his chair, occasionally quirking an eyebrow as if he was impressed or annoyed.
When he was in a rather intuitive or creative mood, his eyes seemed to be a lighter shade of brown and he would get carried away in his journal. When he was thinking, he would zone out on his journal or something in the room.
You noticed that he’d clench his jaw until a muscle there ticked when he got angered. When he was annoyed, he had a tendency to sigh.
“Y/N!” Narcissa calls.
She stood among Tom Riddle and all of his “friends”. Tom’s eyes find you who was clearly irritated. You had made your way through the crowd and head towards her.
“Yes?” You ask.
“Hey, that is no way to talk to your favorite cousin.” Narcissa scolds.
“Who said you were my favorite?” You ask.
“It’s because it is me.” Bellatrix grins.
“Not you either.” You mutter.
“Moving on, have you seen Sirius or Regulus?” She asks.
“I’m not their keeper, Narcissa.” You mutter.
“They said they were meeting up with you.” She says, sighing in frustration.
“Well they didn’t. I need to get to class.” You mutter.
Before you could go, Bellatrix grabs your upper arm in a tight grip. You turn back to her with a clenched jaw as Narcissa steps back, muttering an “Uh-Oh”.
“Leaving so soon, cousin?” She mocks.
“Bellatrix, I’m warning you now to let go or you will regret it.” You warn calmly.
“What will you do? You're all goody two shoes, yet your in Slytherin. I think that dumb hat sorted you into the wrong house.” She says.
You pull your wand free, pointing it at her as you mutter “Stupefy”. You roll your eyes as she flies backwards through the crowd.
“If I wouldn’t get expelled, I would definitely crucio you or use the killing curse on you for your information. However, nothing is stopping me once we graduate.” You say, before turning and leaving the group stunned.
Tom smiles slightly as he watches you walk away, finding himself even more intrigued with you than he originally was. Call it an interest or maybe an obsession at this point. He liked to watch you when he could. He noticed things about you that he was sure no one else noticed.
He knew you were a quiet and mysterious girl, but underneath that “innocent” mask you wore, he knew there was a strong woman with a dangerous mind. You were far from innocent and today proved that more so to him. To anyone else, you were that innocent girl. However, when you let your guard down if you were stressed or angry or irritated, he could see the danger swirling in your (eye color) eyes.
He lets his smile fall, regaining his composure before turning back to his group. Bellatrix was back on her feet, a scowl on her face as Narcissa helped hold her up. He watches as Sirius and Regulus join them.
“What is wrong with you?” Sirius asks.
“Your bloody sister is what is wrong! She used stupefy on me!” She snaps.
“How pissed off did you make her?” Regulus chuckles, shaking his head.
“You both told me you were meeting with her about becoming a follower. Yet, she hasn’t seen either of you all day. So, where were you both off to?” Narcissa snaps.
“Have you seen how mad she can get? We learned not to mess around when she gets mad, Issa. When she is mad, she will take down anyone in her path. We’ve learned how to avoid making her mad. So, you go have that conversation with her because I rather not get crucio’d again.” Sirius says.
“Wow.” Avery mutters.
“She may be quiet and keeps to herself, but Y/N is a ticking time-bomb when you make her mad. She is intelligent, and maybe too intelligent for her own good. She also liked being stronger than others in magic, so that is why she studies so hard. However, because she is so antisocial and introverted, even as a child before Hogwarts, she took her studies serious, so she doesn’t understand fun. She is boring.” Sirius says.
“I bet she hasn’t ever shagged anyone, or snogged! A sixth year and a virgin! That is embarrassing.” Bellatrix cackles.
That further piqued Tom’s interest about you.. He found himself having more thoughts about you, both innocent and sinful thoughts. However, his sinful thoughts changed to the exception of you being a virgin. That made him feel a possessiveness over you he wasn’t quite sure how to feel about. However, he knew that the idea of you being with anyone else was sickening to him. You were his, you just didn’t know it yet.
Your studies past fairly quickly and you were heading towards the Great Hall. You sit at your normal spot, Regulus sitting next to you. Tom sat a table down with his “friends”, however his focus was on you. Regulus gently closed your books, pushing them away.
“Eat, then study.” He stresses softly.
As irritated as you were about him taking away your books, you listened. Tom quirked a brow, finding himself wondering if it was often you got so distracted by your studies that you didn’t take care of yourself the best. His eyes roam over you slowly, noticing the dark circles under your eyes along with the thinning face of yours. So, it was often, he thought.
“Y/N! My favorite sister! How has your day been?” Sirius asks as plops down across from you.
“What do you want?” You ask, sighing as you pushed your food around on your plate.
“Nothing to do with studies I hope, she is taking a break to eat.” Regulus stresses.
You close your eyes as the two start to argue, resting your chin on your hand. You open your eyes when Regulus stands, his voice getting louder.
“Enough!” You snap, the two instantly quieting.
It had gotten the attention of those around your table. You take in a slow breath before letting it out, regaining your composure before looking between your brothers with a blank look.
“You two bicker like a bunch of children. This is our brief moment to be able to hang out, however you both don’t know how to push aside your differences because you both are too hot-headed and irrational.” You rant.
You snatch up your books that Regulus had pushed away from you earlier and stood from the table as you left the Great Hall.
Tom watched you leave before looking between your brothers, before his eyes fell on your plate of untouched food. He puts some food in his bag, going unnoticed and decides to leave himself. He made his way to the library, heading to the forbidden section where he assumed you’d be. He feels a brief moment of pride flare in his chest, right about where you had gone. He clears his throat and you look up from your notes.
“Here. I noticed you didn’t eat.” He says.
His voice surprised you. It was deep, soft and mysterious. He pulled out some food he took from the Great Hall and handed it to you.
“Thank you.” You murmur.
He nods, going to leave and you begin working on your studies again. You sigh as a loud group comes into the library.
“Would you allow me to show you a place I like to go?” He asks, looking back down at you.
“I don’t see why not.” You admit, gathering your stuff before standing.
You follow behind Tom, not quite sure where he was taking you. You knew of his quest to become the Dark Lord. Some of his followers had big mouths, so you heard more than everyone thought you knew. They assumed you were clueless about his current quest and they all were tip-toeing around who would be the one to break the news to you. However, you knew. You knew more than them in fact.
He looks around, making sure there was no other students or professors in the hall before a door appears in the wall. Your lips part from surprise as he ushers you in, following behind you. You looked around the empty room in awe.
“The Room of Requirements…I’ve heard of it and I’ve looked everywhere for it.” You mumble.
“Yes, I searched for this room for awhile myself. I later learned that the room only will appear in great need.” Tom explains, seeming rather smug about finding it.
“The room seems to know you quite well…and you seem to know the room quite well too. Otherwise, the door wouldn’t have appeared because I’m sure my studies are not in great need.” You say, turning back to him.
You feel a heat spread across your body as you catch his eyes on you. The dark eyes slowly trail over you, mapping out your body. His eyes stop on your blouse where you had a few buttons undone since you were alone and had started to get a little hot in the confined aisles of the forbidden section in the library.
He steps forward, closing the distance between the two of you. You look up, not realizing that he was this tall. He puts a hand out and gently grasps your hip before trailing it up your side. He tugs on the middle of your blouse, revealing more of your cleavage, before he starts undoing the remaining buttons.
“That and maybe because I am in great need of you.” He murmurs, leaning down to trail his lips along your neck.
You shiver, feeling a trail of goosebumps being left behind from the ghost touch. His hands find your shoulders where he pushes the robes off before pushing your blouse off along with it. He leaves a soft kiss on your racing pulse, before he pulls back to look down at you.
You were left in a dark green lace bra, and he tsked quietly, approving the way they made your breasts look. The bra seemed to work as a push-up bra, but really Narcissa had gotten you the wrong size this year.
His eyes trail over your stomach, noting the soft curves he would be sure to feel later. His eyes focus on the short school-girl skirt, also Narcissa’s doing. You didn’t fret much about it as you knew you’d wear your robe more often than not. You were wearing knee high stockings with a pair of mary-janes.
“The school girl skirt, hmph, your just asking to be fucked, aren’t you?” He asks, a smirk slowly spreading across his face.
“Tom.” You say breathlessly.
“Leave the skirt on, but take your panties off.” He orders.
He begins unbuttoning his own shirt, watching you. You were frozen in place before you start to work the panties down. He held a hand out, looking at you expectantly. Your shaky hand places the matching dark green lace panties into his hand.
He balls it up and sticks it in his blazer pocket. You watch as his long, slender fingers work his belt off. Your eyes focused on his veiny hands.
“Hands and knees.” He says.
You slowly drop to your knees, turning over, no longer able to watch his next move. You get on your hands, moving so you are on your elbows. You arch your back down, sticking your ass out more.
Tom licks his lips slowly, swallowing hard as he watches you get into the position. He inhales deeply, watching as you arch your back. He puts a clenched fist to his mouth, lightly biting himself, not quite sure if this was really happening. The skirt hid nothing. He could see the big globes that he found himself really attracted to. He never would have taken himself as an ass man.
His eyes trail further down to see your glistening entrance. He pushes his pants off before he gets on the ground behind you. He brushes your hair over your shoulder, before he finds himself tracing down your spine lightly. You shiver unintentionally, however he enjoyed the effect he on you.
“How bad do you want me?” He murmurs into your ear.
“Please, Tom.” You whisper as you push your hips back.
“Pathetic. Do you want my cock or not?” He asks, grabbing a fistful of your hair and roughly jerking your head back.
A breathless moan fills the thick air in the room as a heat spreads across your scalp. He clenches his jaw, feeling himself twitch from the sound he heard. It was the beginning of a beautiful symphony, one he didn’t realize how much he’d become crazed for.
“Tom! Please! I need you!” You cry, feeling frustrated that he wasn’t touching you where you wanted to be touched.
He smirks, gently grabbing your hips. He uses his other hand to guide himself into your dripping entrance. He groans, your walls immediately grasping onto him, suffocating him. You moan lowly, your hands grasping at the stone floor as your eyes flutter shut.
“Fuck.” He curses, working himself in and out of you slowly.
“Tom, please.” You plead, pushing your hips back.
“Is my cock the first one you’ve ever had?” He asks, his eyes burning in the back of your head as he awaited your response.
“Yes! Please, Tom!” You cry.
He couldn’t help the grin across his face. He heard it, but he wasn’t sure if maybe you just kept them out of the loop. But, knowing he was the one to take your virginity was exhilirating to him.
“I better be the only cock you have here. You are mine.” He warns.
“Yes! I-I’m yours, Tom!” You moan as he starts to move at a faster pace.
“I’ll kill any boy who dares to be with you, because you are mine! I’ll punish you if I see you talking to some boy.” He growls, his hips now savagely moving.
You cry for more, your soft and loud moans were music to his ears. He breathed heavily along with you as held onto your hips tightly. Skin smacking echoed in the room and you heard his soft groan which sent you coming. He groans louder as you clench around him, coming around him.
You stood on shaky legs, buttoning up your blouse and grimacing as you feel your shared climaxes slowly leaking out of you. He grasps your chin, looking at you with a stern look.
“Keep it in. I want you to know who fucked you.” He says.
“Tom, I need my panties.” You say as your cheeks flush.
“Find another way to keep it in.” He says, before focusing back on straightening himself out.
You pull your blazer on along with your robes before grabbing your books and hurrying out. You reach the Slytherin common room, Narcissa and Bellatrix looking up from their game of cards. Sirius and Regulus’s backs were to you.
“Oh my god, you got shagged!” Narcissa exclaims with a grin.
“Who was it?” Bellatrix asks.
“Yeah, I’d like to know.” Sirius seethes, taking in your disheveled hair and the hickeys on your neck.
Narcissa looks at your knees to see that they were scraped up, but you choose to ignore your brothers and cousins as you make your way past them. Regulus laughs, yelling “Atta girl!”
A small smile graces your lips at your little brothers comment. He too was protective of you, but he knew you inside and out. He and you were far closer than you were with Sirius. You get to your dorm and think of showering, but then your mind wanders to Tom. Keep it in…
You pull on a pair of fresh panties as you change into your nightware. You found yourself tossing and turning for a long while before you fell asleep. By the time it was time to wake up, you were exhausted. You could sleep in, but that ruins your morning routine.
You go to the shower, grimacing at the burn in your stomach. It was now that you realized you didn’t eat once yesterday. You finished up in the bathroom before pulling on a black lingerie set. You gasp as your door opens and Tom walks in.
“I knew you’d be awake.” He says, his eyes slowly roaming over you and some of the bruises he had made from where he held you still.
“Tom, what are you doing here?” You ask, grabbing a random robe and pulling it on.
“I’ve seen it all, darling. I wanted to tell you no more skirts.” He says and you look at him confused.
“I…Is it because how short they are?” You ask.
“That and the school girl skirt should be meant for my eyes when we are alone. Do you understand?” He asks.
“I…yes, Tom.” You say quietly.
He grins, looking at your neck where you had several hickeys before he leaves. You frown and look at the outfit you had prepared for this morning. It consisted of a school girl skirt.You sigh, grabbing a dark green skater skirt that ended a little about mid-thigh. There wasn’t much you could do about the length of your skirts until you went shopping again.
You grab your button up blouse and your Slytherin tie. You grab the blazer and sigh when you see dust on it. You hang it back up, deciding you will have to clean it later because you don’t have time now.
You pull on your knee socks and mary-janes when there was a knock at your dorm door. You open it and see it was Narcissa.
“I came bearing gifts.” She says.
You open the door and she guides you to the small vanity as she begins to help you cover the hickeys on your neck and jawline.
“So, who was it?” She asks.
“I’m not sure if I’m ready to say who it was yet.” You murmur.
“Did he force you? I’ll make him suffer the worst ways imaginable.” She says seriously.
“No, no, he didn’t force me. I’m just not sure what is happening yet. I don’t know if it merely was just another shag to him or if it’ll turn into something. However, he’s being a little controlling of what I wear, mainly my skirts.” You explain.
“I feel like I already know who this is.” She says, sighing.
“Who?” You ask.
“Tom Riddle?” She asks.
“Oh…how did you know?” You ask.
“Tom is…many things. I don’t know if he is capable of love and a relationship. He is a very possessive man. And I mean to the extent that it isn't healthy. He is ill-tempered and easily jealous. Not to mention he can be obsessive too. I personally think you should put some distance between the two of you and let things die down. I don’t know what his intentions are, but I’m sure they aren’t good.” She explains.
“Alright.” You say quietly.
You were quite sure how to feel. But, you knew Narcissa meant well and you also knew that she knew Tom better than you. You trusted her advice almost as you trusted Regulus’s.
“All done.” She says.
“Thank you, Issa.” You murmur and she nods.
She leaves you to your thoughts and you realize you need to head down to the Great Hall for breakfast. You gather your books and make your way out of your dorm in a daze. You head to the Great Hall and see everyone was already there. You ignore the burning stare that you knew belonged to Tom Riddle.
“Hey, you okay? You seem out of it? And your running late.” Regulus says.
“Oh, I’m fine. I think I’m just in need of food. I realized I didn’t eat once yesterday.” You explain.
“Y/N/N, you’ve got to take better care of yourself. I will start treating you like I did the first year.” He warns.
“I know, I know, and I promise I’ll do better.” You sigh.
“Why is Riddle staring at you? He seems pissed.” He whispers.
“Oh, who knows.” You sigh, briefly glancing at Tom.
Tom was staring at your neck where your hickeys would be, but thanks to Narcissa, they were no longer there. You managed to eat some of your food before it began to make you feel sick. You felt suffocated with Tom glaring daggers into you and Sirius was no better.
“Stop it.” Regulus warns Sirius.
“I want to know who it was.” He snaps, looking back at you.
You clench your jaw, narrowing your eyes at him as you take a slow breath in and let it out. You pull your wand out and keep your hand rested on the table, so you don’t draw anymore attention to you.
“Keep glaring, brother and watch how fast you end up in the hospital wing.” You warn lowly.
“Guys.” Narcissa warns.
“Who is he?” He growls lowly, leaning closer to you.
“Oh shit. Take cover!” Regulus says, going under the table.
You reach forward, grabbing Sirius’s tie and pull him closer as your face heats from anger.
“Astronomy tower, now.” You grit out.
He stands and storms out and you stand as Regulus pokes his head out.
“Don’t kill him please.” He pleads.
You storm out of the Great Hall, wand in hand as you make your way towards the Astronomy tower to see him already there and waiting.
“Who is it!?” He snaps as you both circle each other.
“Sirius, it’s none of your business. Stop trying to act like the older and protective brother. Stop acting like you care!” You snap.
“I do care! You're my sister.” He snaps.
“Guys. Let’s try to keep calm.” Narcissa says as she walks in with her group.
“Yeah, let’s just hug it out and make up.” Regulus says.
“I want to know who has my sister acting like a tramp.” He snaps.
“Oh no….oh no! Oh no! Back up, back up, back up!” Regulus says as he pushes everyone back.
“Bombarda!” You fast and Sirius curses as he tries to dodge the mini explosion you casted his way.
“Confundo!” He shouts, but you dodge it.
“Everte Statum.” You cast, watching as he flies back against the wall, his wand falling in the process.
You walk forward, grabbing his wand before looking down at him.
“Impulsa Animositas!” You snap, gaining confused looks from around the room.
“I…Y/N, have you been creating spells again?” Regulus asks cautiously.
“Again?” Narcissa asks alarmed.
“What did you do to me?” Sirius snaps.
“Say something mean. To any of us.” You say, smirking.
“What the hell did you do to me you crazy bi—ow!” He exclaims after feeling a jolt of electricity go through you.
“Just as I assumed. This spell will zap you everytime you try and say something mean.” You say.
“That’s child’s play you idiot!” He snaps before groaning.
“Hm. This isn’t. Lihednat Dolchitni.” You cast.
His hands find his throat as he try’s to breath. You clench your fist tighter, watching how he struggles more before you wave your hand and it stops. He leans forward, breathing heavily.
“Tread carefully, brother. I have far more up my sleeve than you wish to believe.” You spat.
“You…you will get in so much trouble for creating spells. Regulus and I told you that you need to stop.” He breathes heavily.
“Then keep your mouths shut otherwise I’ll make you suffer in the worst unimaginable ways.” You say.
With that, you turn and walk past the group who seemed shocked. You head back to the Great Hall, gathering your items before heading back to your dorm. You were too upset and riled up to do anything. So, instead you hurry to your dorm and lock the door.
You pace frantically, running your hands through your hair. You let a breath out that you hadn’t noticed you were holding.
“You’re okay. You’re okay. Everything is okay.” You mumble to yourself.
The lock on your door clicks, so you turn and see Tom. He closes the door back and turns to you with that normal passive and cold look.
“That was…impressive.” He says.
“Tom, I really rather be alone right now.” You mutter.
“Why cover the marks I left? I left them for a reason.” He says, his voice hardening as his eyes turn several shades darker.
“I didn’t want to walk around with them showing. People would have said something and I don’t want to deal with that. Plus, I rather the school not know I was your play thing.” You mutter harshly, turning your back to him.
“Who said you were a play thing because I don’t recall ever telling you that?” He snaps.
“Tell me this, Tom. Are you one for commitment? Would you be in an exclusive relationship? Huh, tell me that!” You snap harshly as you turn to face him again.
“I can do commitment. Before, I’d say no. However, for you I am willing to do it. I’m willing to be in an exclusive relationship as you call it. Because I can’t ever get you out of my head! You are all I can focus on! It’s so…so irritating, yet I love it at the same time.” He growls.
“Tom, there are going to have to be some rules set in place if we are to do something. Like the skirt thing this morning. I only wear skirts.” You say.
“Fine. Wear your skirts, well not the school girl ones, however I can’t promise that some asshole won’t end up dead for looking. You are mine.” He snaps.
“Okay, and what about the marks?” You ask.
“You shouldn’t care what anyone says. You never have before, so why care now? I want people to know that you belong to me. I want the guys to realize that you aren’t a possibility anymore. You are mine.” He says, closing the distance between you both.
You look up as his hand wraps around your throat. He tightens his hand and you let a shaky breath out as you clench your thighs.
“You barely know me.” You mumble.
“I know more than you think, darling. You piqued my interest. When that happens, I tend to learn everything I can.” He murmurs, brushing his nose against yours before kissing you softly.
You hum, moving your hands to his hair. You whine when he pulls back, a smirk on his lips.
“What does that mean? How have you learned about me if you just started speaking to me yesterday?” You ask.
“Because I might be a bit obsessive when it comes to learning of the things that interest me. I won’t stop until I know everything.” He says.
There was banging on your dorm door and you sigh, going to walk past Tom, but he loops an arm around your waist.
“Who is it?” Tom asks, annoyed.
“It’s Bella, me and Regulus. Is Y/N in there?” Narcissa says.
“Well go away. I’m about to fuck my girl.” He snaps.
Your face heats up as you cover your mouth to hide your gasp. Narcissa gasps, Regulus laughs and yells for you to get it while Bellatrix throws a fit.
“We are not doing anything! We are just talking!” You exclaim.
“Talking, huh?” He says, quirking a brow at you as he slips a hand beneath your skirt.
You let a shaky breath out as he trails his hand up your thigh. He gets to your underwear, sliding two fingers beneath the lacy fabric.
“Tom.” You mumble.
“Talking and yet you're so wet for me. Do you want my cock again?” He asks, sliding a finger in you.
Your eyes flutter close and he grins widely, loving the way you reacted to his touch. You were the violin and he was the violinist. He played you so gracefully and loved the beautiful symphony that came from your mouth. It was his greatest obsession.
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Day 29: Coercion/Blackmail - Dark!Marauders
Summary: They were waiting for the ideal chance to find you alone and the perfect opportunity arose when they saw you on the Marauder's map as you were sneaking around the Restricted section of the library.
Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, dubious content, mean!marauders, Slytertherin!Reader, manipulation, coercion, blackmail, threatening, scent smelling, oral (f receiving), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, restrained, panty sniffing, masturbation, nearly caught, dacryphilia
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“Well, well, well boys, look who we’ve got here”, James boasted, shuffling over to where Sirius and Remus sat on either end of the Gryffindor sofa, leaving enough space for him to squeeze in between. The Gryffindor Seeker sat with a smug grin on his handsome face as he displayed the Marauders map for both of his friends to see, pointing directly in the middle where your name hovered.
“Is she in the restricted section of the library?” Remus asked, leaning closer to James to make sure that what he was reading was true.
James looked between Remus and Sirius, still grinning so wide that his cheeks ached, “Yes, she is, Moony. Our slithery little friend seems to be sneaking around in naughty places that she shouldn’t be”.
Sirius sighed heavenly, his body melting back into the overused cushions of the maroon sofa. “Today really is my lucky day”, he admired, all the cruel intentions flashing through his mind with the opportunity presented to him. You were their favourite plaything and had been since the first year. Being in Slytherin, you were natural enemies with the Gryffindors, but as much grief as they gave you, you were always quick to give it back, so it was a constant repeat as to who could best the other.
Now, the opportunity was too perfect for them to pass up on. There you were, in the middle of the night, in the restriction section of the library with no one around, and oh, they were more than ready to confront you. James thought about bringing along his invisibility cloak, but as they were all grown, there wasn’t much space to squish them beneath, so it was easier to use the map to see if there was anyone on the route that they would bump into.
You cursed quietly under your breath; you hated the restricted section. It felt so eerie and dark. However, you were researching some unsanitary subjects that couldn’t be found in the books without chains wrapped around them. Lifting the lamp above your head, you continued to search for the relevant topic, keeping your breathing slow and shallow to listen for any signs that one of the Professors was on patrol nearby.
As you searched through the third row of books, you heard the shuffle of multiple footsteps. Your heart immediately jumped into your throat as you blew out the candle in your lamp and rushed deeper into the restricted section to hide in a dark corner.
“I’d stop running if I were you, little snake. We know you’re here”, Sirius taunted with a cheerful tone to show how delighted he was to be in this situation.
The tip of your wand, defiantly pointing towards them, was what they saw first of you as they held up their wands for light. “What the fuck are you three doing here?” you asked pointedly, rolling your eyes and relaxing the tension that had built since you’d heard the noise.
The three Marauders gathered around you, forming a semi-circle, boxing you into the bookshelf. Even though the four of you were always at loggerheads, you weren’t actually threatened by them. In fact, things between you were borderline between enemies with benefits. They were always upfront about their attraction to you and would frequently tease you because of it. So far, nothing had occurred other than fleeting kisses, but every time the four of you were alone together, the tension was palpable in the atmosphere. You enjoyed this cat-and-mouse game that had developed; even though they were beautiful men, you couldn’t think of anything worse than sleeping with Gryffindors, especially with the rising suspicion from the other Slytherins.
Lowering your wand and tucking it into the pocket of your robe, your eyes flicked between each of them and sharply asked, “How the fuck do you three always find me? Are you stalking me?”
The back of James’ fingers stroked across your cheekbone. A touch that you didn’t flinch away from but gently shoved his hand away as he reached your jaw. Shaking his messy black hair, James smirked, his hazel eyes devouring you in the darkness of his lamp resting on the bookshelf beside you.
Remus’ head condescendingly tilted to the left, “We were just worried for your wellbeing. The restricted section isn’t exactly a welcome place for students”.
It was your turn to develop a smirk as you looked over his body, remembering the event from last week. “You know better than most that I can look after myself, Lupin”. Last Tuesday, he’d accidentally stepped into the way of you practising a particularly brutal jinx during defence against the dark arts.
Remus’ eyelids lowered, so he looked at you through his eyelashes, “I didn’t properly thank you for that one, did I?” Even though he was being sarcastic, you didn’t miss the severe undertone to his baritone voice.
“Poor Moony here had to spend the night in the hospital wing. You’re lucky he’s still just as handsome as before”, Sirius mocks, reaching to grip his friend's face and shaking his head for emphasis until Remus shoves him away.
Once more, you’re rolling your eyes at their antics. “Well, maybe Lupin should watch where he’s walking next time I practise spells”.
James shifts closer as he stands to your left, his body casually leaning against the bookcase, “So hostile tonight, Princess. Do you need some way to get your anger out? I know the perfect way”.
Your eyes seemed to be in a constant state of rolling, finding James’ words more annoying than serious as he licked his bottom lip suggestively.
“Maybe I don’t like being interrupted when trying to do something important. So, why don’t you three run back to your little Gryffindor hiding hole?”.
James cocks his head to the side as he looks back at Sirius and Remus, who has stepped even closer, causing the apples of your cheeks to warm at the increasing temperature, even in the creepy section of the library.
“You know, Moony, I do recall you being head boy”, James casually remarks to Remus, who grins, the pink scars that were still healing down his cheeks stretching with the movement. Glancing down, he held up the shiny pin attached to his pristinely knotted tie, showing you the badge.
“You’d be correct about that, Prongs”.
Sirius now steps forward, mimicking James’ stands, but this time to your right, leaving Remus between them and directly in front of you. “I’d love to know Moony. What would the head boy say to a sneak snake wandering around the castle in the middle of the night and the restricted area no less?” Sirius asks with a fake, quizzical look on his handsome face as some of his long hair slips from behind his ear, causing a sinister shadow to hide part of his smirk.
“Well, Padfoot, I would say to that certain little snake that she was breaking a handful of school rules and deserves to have points taken away from her, a weekend of detentions and the head of Slytherin to be woken and informed”.
You scoff, looking between the three of them as your arms folded across your chest. “Ha ha. You’re hilarious, boys”, your voice is laced with sarcasm, “Your scare tactics won’t work with me”.
“Oh really?” Remus continued, stepping forward and raising his hands to rest on either side of your head, pressing into the chains surrounding the books as he dropped his head to be eye level with you. “The thing is, Love, I’m not joking. Why would I abuse my powers like that?” Glancing over his shoulder to Sirius, he asked, “How long do you think it would take you to get to Slughorn’s office? A couple of minutes?” he turned back towards you. “I’m sure he could get there before you do. Professor Slughorn will be very interested to hear why his favourite student is walking around the restricted section in the middle of the night, don’t you agree?”
Your stomach twisted with unease as your confident exterior began to crack. “Why the fuck would you three care where I am? It’s got nothing to do with any of you. I could just as well wake up Professor McGonagall and tell her you’re all out of bed”.
Remus purses his lips as he fakes contemplation, but it is Sirius who speaks next, joy evident in his voice, “Ah, you see, the thing is beautiful; there’s three of us and only one of you. All it would take is one of us to hold you here and another to go and wake our friend Sluggie. And oh, would you look at that? There’s still one of us spare to help hold you down”.
Your heartbeat begins to increase, causing palpitations beneath your ribs as your anxiety begins to take over. “You guys aren’t funny, you know. You’re wasting my time.” You attempted to keep the facade up that you weren’t bothered by their words, but you knew they weren’t messing around.
Remus suddenly grips your cheeks, causing you to startle and jolt at the rough hold he had, squishing your lips out and forcing your eyes to look only up at him. “We aren’t joking around. We think it’s about time the Slytherins stop getting away with everything, and what better example to use than their silver star? I’m sure you’d continue to be everyone’s favourite when I take away; hmm, would 50 house points be sufficient?”
Your heart felt like it would pound out of your chest as you stepped closer to him, now toe to toe, and the tips of your noses nearly brushed together as you tried to look as vicious as possible. “50?! What the fuck is your problem, Lupin?” As you spoke, your fingers reached into your robe to grab your wand, but James was quicker, muttering expelliamous and catching your wand with his nimble fingers.
James tutted, shoving your wand into his pocket within his robe, “You know, Moony, I think another 10 points for the bad language might be a good idea. Why don’t you do that, and Padfoot will go and wake up our favourite potions master?”
You were breathing at a dizzying pace as you looked away from Remus to watch with fear as Sirius began to strut away, his arms swinging leisurely. “Wait! Wait, please!” Sirius stopped walking, turning to look over his shoulder to show you the dazzling smile and quipped up his eyebrow as he waited for you to continue. “What- What do you guys want?” you couldn’t help the stutter, shoulders dropping in defeat as you slumped back against the uncomfortable bookcase.
The long-haired Marauder swaggered back over, delighting evidence on his face as he returned to leaning beside you. A single finger grazes beneath your chin, hooking onto the end and tilting your face towards James as he bragged, “You know what we want”.
Of course, you knew, it was all they ever asked with their perverted minds, always talking with their dicks and then their hearts. It had always been a joke because that was all you had taken it for, a hilarious, sleazy joke.
“That’s always been a joke, so quit playing around”, you say, but the fighting your voice has dimmed.
“Does it look like we’re joking?” James asks.
“So what is this? You’re all blackmailing me so that you can get your dicks wet? I’m sure there are plenty of other pathetic girls who would be more than happy to do what you’re asking”, you say with as much venom as you can muster, but there was no denying the core-clenching pulse that ran through your pussy.
“Oh honey, you know it’s not our dicks that we want to get wet, and there’s no other cunt we’d rather be licking than yours”, Sirius says, tilting his head up to talk in his sweet purr that had your thighs squeezing together in an attempt to relieve some tension that had increased tenfold in your clit. All three of the men in front of you noticed the movement and had to adjust their stances, seeming to be as tall and intimidating as possible, but that only made you more horny.
With all of the previous times that they had made sexual advances, they had not once mentioned their own pleasure. All they’d ever asked and begged to do was have a taste of your pussy.
‘Give us a taste’, ‘I bet you’re nice and sweet’, ‘I can get you gushing against my tongue, Princess’.
It was always comments like these that had you either jinxing them, rolling your eyes or simply walking away to the comfort of your bed, curtains closed so you could imagine the acts with your fingers between your legs. It was almost a daily occurrence that you masturbated to the thought of the three of them in your bed, and it would be easy just to give in and say yes to their requests. Still, you would never lower yourself to sleeping with a Gryffindor, let alone the three most arrogant and infamous students throughout Hogwarts.
However, now you were stuck between a rock and a hard place. You knew that if you said no, you could have the detention and deducted points, and they would happily walk you down to Slughorn's office. But, to be truthful, there was a small part of you that was becoming bored with the cat-and-mouse chase, that part being your cunt.
Sirius replaced the finger under your chin, turning you to look up at home, “So? What do you say? We don’t expect anything from you, but each of us gets a taste, and we’ll let you go on your merry way”.
You sigh through your nose, chewing on your bottom lip as you contemplate your answer, even though you know already what you are going to say. “I know I’m going to regret this”.
Sirius moves so close that you can see the different shades of grey in his eyes, “Trust me, Sweetheart, you aren’t going to regret this for a second. I can guarantee that”.
Your eyes flick between his and his dangerous lips, a movement that has him grinning and showing his perfectly pearly teeth, knowing your answer because you even say it.
“Fine. But I’m not touching any of you, and after, you have to promise that you’ll let me walk away without losing any points or waking up Slughorn”.
“Your wish is our command, ma’am” James dramatically bows to add to the performance.
Your sigh brushes over Sirius’ face as you move back to look at them individually. “So how do you want to do this? Shall we go to a classroom or something?”
Remus shakes his head, nodding towards your skirt, “Take off your underwear”.
Okay, so they were expecting to do it in the middle of the restricted section of the library. You were thankful for wearing a skirt to keep some of your modesty as you shimmied the material down your legs and stepped out of it. Before you could hide them in your pocket, Sirius was snatching them from your hands and stuffed them into his back pocket.
As your mouth snapped open to argue with him to give the underwear back, Remus was distracting you by dropping onto his knees. As he lifted the edge of your skirt, Sirius and James grabbed onto a leg each and lifted you to sit on the shelf of the bookcase, holding each limb up until your knees were as close to your chest as possible, spreading you open for Remus.
All you were able to do was hold onto the sturdy shelf above your head, fumbling with your words with how embarrassed you were to be completely exposed to them all as the positioning of your legs now pushed your skirt away.
Remus groaned hungrily, taking a deep sniff as he leaned in close. You gaped at him, internally cringing and embarrassed that he was actually smelling your arousal. Before you could tell him to stop, his hands were roughly parting your folds, presenting your dripping hole further for him as your hips bucked at the contact. It was filthy watching him stick his long tongue out and lick a long strip from your perineum up to your engorged clit.
His big green eyes never left yours, and you were captivated by looking away, crying out and needing more as it truly dawned on you that this was actually happening. Remus seemed to simultaneously be touching all parts of your cunt with his wet, wide tongue, digging into your clenching hole, slurping out the juices that were seeping out and then lewdly sucking on your bundle of nerves until you were whining from the overstimulation.
It was all Remus had ever wanted, and it seemed he was good at it, and for a second, you regretted all the time wasted having said no to them all. Your fingers dropped to hold onto his head, keeping him close and using it to try and buc your hips to ride his face, but with the men holding up your legs, it was difficult to move.
If he was spelling your name with his tongue against your clit, he was delving it as deep within your cunt as possible. The noises coming from both you and him were filthy, and it took an embarrassingly short amount of time before you were cuming, eyes closing and head tilting back as your walls clamped down around his tongue in quick bursts of euphoria.
He didn’t stop stimulating you until you were slumping back against the books, and Sirius was quick to drop your leg and replace the positions with Remus, dropping to his knees in front of you as Remus stood, still licking his lips and holding onto your leg.
To their credit, they only used their mouths, and for a minute, you had contemplated begging for more, but your ego kept your lips sealed tightly. Sirius didn’t give you any time to try and catch your breath before he had his own taste, his mouth warmer than Remus’. With his tongue sticking out, he shook his head like he was trying to dig his way right into the centre of your core.
Your fingers were sliding through his silky hair, pulling on him to try and get him to slow down, but he liked the pain that came with the hair pulling, so it only pushed him on further. Sirius's hands rested on your hips, pulling your body onto the edge of the shelf so he could move his face harder against you. As he fucked your pussy with his tongue, he pushed the tip of his nose against your clit, sending scorching pleasure into your abdomen.
Just as you were on the very brink of an orgasm, Sirius’ mouth disappeared from you entirely so he could watch your body tremble and pulse with the need to cum but not be given the proper stimulation for it.
“Fucking hell Sirius, just let me cum already!” you hissed at him, losing some of the control over the situation.
Sirius doesn’t say a word, but he does laugh heartedly as his face attached to your mound once more, delving between your folds and licking until you were cumming with mind-spinning pleasure.
James didn’t even wait until your orgasm had subsided before he pulled back Sirius’ head and shoved him out of the way, dropping to his knees and beginning his feast. Sirius didn’t argue with him but stood to hold onto your leg, the lower half of his face gleaming with juices and pink from being rubbed against.
The glasses on James’ face were cold against your skin as the rim of them pressed into your mound. He gathered as much spit onto the tip of his tongue and let it drip over your pussy, spreading it around with his tongue until you were as sloppy as possible. This only added more pleasure to do, feeling how wet everything was down there, the whisps of air cooling certain areas before he was back sucking and licking at it.
Just as you were getting into it and falling into the pleasure that was causing your body to jolt as you were becoming extremely overstimulated, a heavy thump sounded from the entrance to the library. A breath later, all of the lamps were extinguished by Remus’ wand, descending you all into darkness as you anticipated them all to stop. Except, they didn’t. James continued as if nothing had changed, but now his hand was covering your mouth to help keep your moans muffled.
You were beyond tense, hands shoving at any body part of the three men you could reach, trying to stop them from holding you in place. A faint light glowed from a few rows away, and to your horror, you realised just how close you were to being caught by one of the professors, being held down and eaten out by three men.
It was so overwhelming that a few tears escaped the corner of your eye as a quiet sob slipped from your chest. Remus pushed his body in closer, “Shhh Princess, it’s ok. Once you cum for prongs, this all stops”.
Thankfully, as he finished talking, the light began to disappear, and the Professor decided there was no use checking the restricted section as there was never anyone this far into the room. With the light gone, you could finally lose control, still crying as James sucked violently for as long as he could against your clit until you were bucking your hips and flooding his mouth with squirt as you came hard.
It took a long couple of seconds for your pussy to calm down from the orgasm, but even as your walls stopped contracting, they still continued to throb in time with your heartbeat. Your entire body was aching, especially your legs and chest from where you’d been crying. The lights of their lamps were illuminated once more to reveal James looking at a piece of parchment, announcing that the coast was clear. You didn’t have the energy to ask what he was holding as Remus and Sirius helped your feet back to the ground.
With your legs now together, you could feel just how swollen and puffy your clit and folds were from being poked and prodded by three mouths. Your knees also struggled to hold your weight as you clung to Remus, who helped you stay upright and find the energy to stand by yourself.
For once, there are no condescending or mean words coming from him as he gently cups the back of your head and strokes the space between your shoulders in calm circles as your sobs slow to a quiet hiccup.
Eventually, as the clock tower bell chimes to symbolise that it is 2 a.m., you are able to pull away from Remus, wiping the wetness from your face with the back of your robe and then straightening your skirt. Glancing over to Sirius, you held out a hand to him and a hand to James.
James gave you back your wand, but Sirius simply patted himself down and looked at you with a frown, “Hmm, seems I’ve lost your underwear. Sorry, Princess”.
You don’t have the energy to argue with him as you sigh, “You don’t tell a soul about what’s happened here.” You point your finger at each of them, but James responds.
“Wouldn’t dream of telling anyone. But I will be dreaming about you tonight when I’m touching my cock with your taste still in my mouth”.
Your face heats with embarrassment as your eyes trained on the floor, lifting your lamp and beginning to limp away, trying to hold as much dignity as possible. Still, it was difficult with how uncomfortable and sensitive you were feeling, depending on bookcases to lean on as you made your way out of the library and back towards the Slytherin common room.
As soon as you are out of sight, Sirius sighs, dropping hushed back against the bookcase you were just leaning on and unzips his pants, pulling your underwear that he hadn’t lost from out of his pocket and holding it up to his face. With his cock free, he has no shame as he touches himself vigorously and, in a matter of seconds, cums all over the floor.
Remus frowns, looking down at the thick globs decorating the floor, “Really, Padfoot? You couldn’t wait until we were back to the dormitory?”
“I’ve never had blue balls like that in my life. It was fucking hurting Moony, give me a break”.
Remus shifts his own cock in the restraint of his trousers as James says over his shoulder, “She's heading straight towards Filch. Shouldn’t we go and stop her?”
Rems peers over his friend's shoulder, looking at the open Marauders map and watches as your name floats towards Filch. The tallest Marauder shrugs, “No, it’ll teach her a lesson about being out of bed after hours”. They all share a dark grin and begin to gather their stuff before walking out of the library.
#dark marauders#the marauders#remus lupin#sirius black#jamies potter#the marauders x reader#poly!marauders#remus lupin x reader#sirius black x reader#james potter x reader#james potter smut#sirius black smut#remus lupin smut#harry potter smut#kinktober#kinktober 2023#mine*
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¡ 18+ only ! ¡ minors do not interact !
content: noncon, stepcest, forced pregnancy, dark!stepbrother!regulus, fem!reader
it didn't seem like it, but regulus was all too willing. his mind was spinning in excitement at his mother's plan. her insistence to maintain their pureblood status had led her to believe that this was the only way to keep it. regulus was instructed to impregnate you by any means necessary.
sirius had gone insane. "they're siblings!" he exclaimed time after time. stepsiblings, regulus wanted to say. not that it really mattered. the black family is no stranger to incestuous relationships.
and regulus had been dreaming of an opportunity to fuck you, to bury himself deep inside you and fill you to the brim with the next heir. his once sweet stepsister who was now headed down the wrong path, infatuated with some useless muggle. his mother would never allow such a thing, and neither would he, especially now.
your nails were no match, your words even less. you're my stepbrother. you're hurting me. regulus, please. your pleas went in one ear and out the other, his pleasure drowning out the noises. his focus on the way your silky walls clenched around his twitching prick, unconsciously begging for his seed to breach your fertile womb, and regulus refused to stop until it did.
#tw noncon#tw stepcest#regulus (belle’s version)#dark!regulus#regulus black x reader#regulus black smut#regulus smut#regulus back fanfic#harry potter marauders#marauders era#marauders regulus#hp marauders#marauders smut#dark harry potter#dark marauders#marauders#regulus black
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Pacify Her
© Skyebounded, do not use my work, but you may share it.
Masterlist .Harry Potter Universe Masterlist.
premise: The devil was real, and you were prepared to do anything for him.
pairing: Professor Tom Riddle x Fem!Reader
warnings: dark elements, toxic obsessions, possession (but not the scary supernatural kind) smut (p in v-fingering-etc) tom riddle (his own warning) there is probably a lot more...
wc: 4.2k
a/n: this is beautiful and I don't care if you don't agree.
shoutout to @demiguisemoon for keeping me company throughout this ride.
enjoy the playlist that I made for this story!
He never truly knew what you were capable of, or more so what his influence would do to you, and that was the problem. He had completely underestimated you, and that would be not only your downfall, but his as well. Pretty and pliant, that's what you were to him, the perfect match, not only intellectually, but emotionally as well. You suited him. From the moment you stumbled into his compartment on the train, down to the moment that you sat down in front of him, not a word muttered, but yet a conversation was had. You understood him, and quite frankly, he understood you, or so he believed.
No one understood him the way you did, the way that you clung to his every word like gospel. Feeding into his absurdities, but never once looking at him as if he was wrong. You supported him. Truth was you were obsessed. Incomplete and broken without him, much like a wounded bird, someone he could fix, take care of, mould into something he wanted, and you lived for it. Lived for the moments that he taught you, helped you, controlled you. The moments where he needed you and only you. At his beck and call in the late hours of the night, or for the favours that could ultimately get you expelled, for anything he wanted, and you’d do it, obediently. You were his. You belonged to him from the first moment, and though neither of you knew it, he belonged to you.
“Is this seat taken?” You asked, slipping into the compartment faster than he could respond, but he didn’t. He pulled his nose from the daily prophet to study you. He had never seen you before, which was odd considering you were in his house, the green and silver snake adoring your breast, a Slytherin, and a pretty one at that, an old soul and kindred spirit…of sorts. There was something in the way you looked at him, that dutiful look in your piercing eyes, a look as if you could see into the deepest darkest depths of his soul, something he was certain he had well hidden, and yet what you saw didn’t alarm you. Somehow it didn’t scare him, it intrigued him, you intrigued him. He watched as you slid the door closed behind your back, before sliding into the seat across from him, hands trapped behind your back, and your head cocked to the side as you studied him. The slightest of smiles on your face. He should have known then, known what you would become to him, but he could never have suspected you to be as such.
Frail and malleable, obsessed and devoted, and you were his. His star, his pet, his property. You grew to need him, unable to do without the moments you shared with him. You found yourself lingering in the back of his classes, hoping that he would catch a fleeting glimpse of you, needing you for something, anything, to utilise you, need you. For the moments that he’d call for you in the late hours of the night, for the small favours that could leave you expelled or worse, with the promise that nothing bad was going to happen to you, he wouldn’t let it. The hours that you spent with him, soon turned to days, weeks, stealing away any moment that you could, eager to please, to be close. Somewhere in the dim candle light of his office, stolen glances, gentle touches, words exchanged. Finding yourself desperate for the after hours of study in the library, the ones where you could find him making his way from the restricted section, his pretty nose stuck within the pages of his books. Knowing you were there, dutifully watching him, waiting for the right opportunity to seek him out or for him to call for you.
Your life had become dull. Classes lacked challenge, you found little to no enjoyment in day to day activities, your friends became distant memories, dramatic, but even your mundane routines lost flavour. All you had was him, and the little periods of time you spent by his side. At his beck and call, seduced by the ways he consumed you. Your mind, your body, and most definitely your tainted soul. He knew it too, knew that he could use you for anything his heart desired, that you would do nothing but obey him, follow blindly if he requested it of you, no questions to be asked. A perfect pawn, follower. The more eager you became, with the incessant need to do more, be more for him, he took to it. Giving you more and more to do. It had soon become a list of tasks, simple favours as he would call it. Hide this, seek out this, do this…And you did, you did all of it.
Your blood rushed as you closed the office door behind you, back pressed against the firm wood, hands clasped behind you, as your eyes scanned the dimly lit room until you found him. In the centre of the room, sat plainly in his chair, eyes roaming your eager figure. He looked as though he sat on a throne, one of his own creation, his arms extended out on the sides of the chair, comfortable and yet cold, observant. “Did you get it?” was all he said, leaning forward over his desk, the faintest traces of a smile on his face when the stifled giggle of yours fleas from your lips. You held it up, in the palms of your small hands presenting it to him, the book he had sent you to find. Restricted, forbidden even, and you had managed it, with his help of course. “Of course.” you whispered. He beckend you over with the bend of two slender fingers, and you moved on your own volition, approaching him with such eagerness. He took the book from your palms, his fingers ghosting over your soft skin, and you wonder if it was on purpose. “Good girl.” There it was, the praise you strove for, the praise that came from him and him only. The slightest flick of his wand had the door clicking locked, as his eyes came to study you once more. There was a fascination in his gaze, the way his eyes softened to you, desperately trying to hide the hunger that he felt towards you. You had something that he had never quite found in anyone else, something that made him crave you more than he had for anyone else…and there it was, the thought that you were his and only his.
His eyes left you, meeting the pages of the book you had stolen for him, consuming every word on the stale worn parchment. While he was entranced, devouring the text, you were devouring the sight of him, leaning over the desk, eyes droning over the pages. He was stunning this way. The crease in his brow, eager to learn, and you were right there with him, desperate to know just what held him so captivated, leaning over his desk in hopes of catching the slightest bit of the contraband he had tasked you with stealing, no concern for what could have happened to you if you had been caught. But you knew that somehow, if that had been the case, he would have protected you, always, he would be there. His eyes darted up from the page, a lustful hunger to them, but for you or for the knowledge he had been enthralled with, you weren’t sure. “Look.” he instructs, slumping back in his chair, gesturing to the page, the hints of a smile on his lips. Clasping your hands behind your back, you leaned over the mahogany desk, feeling the hem of your uniform riding up in the back, exposing yourself to him as you did your best to read what was before you, eyes focussing on the text of ancient runes. It wasn’t of much use, you simply couldn’t read it. “I can’t read it, sir.” you mutter, chancing a look back at him. His eyes were shamelessly crawling up the length of your bare legs, and to the swell of your ass. He had looked at you like this before, that strained look in his eyes, like he was in deep thought but those thoughts were ones that he would never quite say aloud, the smallest of smirks on his lips, as he dragged his tongue along them. “I see..” he remarks, slowly pulling his gaze away from your ass, to meet your much more innocent gaze. It was one of his favourite things to do. To teach you, to watch you learn from him. It gave him the sweetest sense of power and meaning. “And what would you have me do about that, darling?” He leaned forward, his eyes cold and narrowed, but that flick of amusement dancing across them.
“Read it to me?” It was a simple request, your voice strong and confident. You wanted to know, wanted him to show you, and he seemed to like the idea. Tom hummed, a sweet sound of satisfaction, as his slender fingers wrapped around your dainty wrist, pulling you down onto his lap, a gesture he had never quite done before. He was confident in his motions, calculated and collected. He knew what he wanted, and that was you. His hands remained on your hips, fingers drumming on your thighs. “Read it to you, hmm?” He hums, delicately brushing a strand of your hair away from your neck, the tips of his fingers ghosting over your throat. Goosebumps lining your skin, while his other hand trailed slowly up your bare thigh. Gentle touches that were purposeful, and well measured. Even in this, he was in control. In control of himself, and of the situation. “How will you ever learn if I just read it to you?” “Teach me then..” you blurt, your voice had never been so soft, so demanding and yet desperate. “Sir..” you add, looking back at him. His thumb had started to draw soft slow patterns on your inner thigh, dangerously close to your cunt. “Teach you….” You could see that he was mulling it over…”teach you…” he cooed in approval, a sinister grin consuming his face. “Very well, darling, teach you, I shall.” He gave a hearty squeeze to your thigh, your breath hitching and your body tensing for a brief moment in his lap, shifting your attention back to his face. Pretending as if he couldn’t see the way your eyes studied him, the way they seemed to have heart shaped iris that were only for him.
His own gaze was casted past you, eyes scoured the pages before him, looking for something suitable to turn into a lesson. His hands still wandering aimlessly on your skin. “Here…let's start simple…” He leaned back enough, turning to look at you, his breath fanning across your lips from being so close. His eyes trailing up your features until his eyes met yours. “This rune here…” he starts, grasping your jaw with his index and thumb, turning your face, back to the book. “This rune…’othilia’ corresponds to the Latin letter…?” “o.” you state, looking to him for approval, his approval. A soft smile was all he gave you. “And what do you think it means…” His hand, resting under your skirt, had found its way to the crease of your hips and thighs, squeezing at the supple flesh, while his thumb thrummed against your clothed cunt. You found it hard to concentrate, to really look at the shapes on the page, but you had to. “Um…power, wealth?” you tried, letting out a breathy sigh, when his thumb found its way into the damp fabric of your panties, rolling soft circles into your swollen clit. You felt his lips against your ear, your head lulled back against his shoulder. “It means, heritage, possession..” he punctuated the last word with a flick of his thumb, a gesture that had a sweet moan falling from you. With precision he gently rolled his finger over your bud, nipping at your ear with each sweet sound you let out. “Focus….” he coos, drawing your half lidded eyes back to the book. “This one, ‘mannaz’, tell me its correspondent…” Your mind was muddled. He had pulled the wet fabric away from your cunt, traipsing his slender fingers through your folds, collecting your sweet arousal, teasing your entrance as he waited for your response. “Go on…what is it.?” You hummed softly, searching your mind for what it could possibly be. “Um..it’s ‘m’ the latin ‘m’..” you whimpered, feeling the intrusion of a single digit slipping into your sopping heat. He was rewarding you, with each correct response you gave him. “And what does it mean?”
You weren’t sure how much of this he really thought you could handle, not with the way that his finger was slowly thrusting in and out of you, his thumb languidly massaging your tender clit. He was watching you, his own gaze lidded, dark. Hungry. He was enjoying this, enjoying the way that he had you, pulling answers from you with simple touches. “Don't make me stop, what does it mean?” he teases, and yet somewhere in the pit of your stomach, you knew that he would. That he would leave you high and dry at a moment's notice. Your eyes had fallen closed, summoning all of your strength to answer him, as he slipped another finger into you, curling them against your sweet spot, just to feel your breath hitch and your body shutter in his grasp. You could feel the way that his cock had hardened beneath you, kept from you by the confines of his trousers, and it did little to help you focus any, it was cruel. “It means…ma-man?” you gasped out, his pace increasing. His lips met the side of your neck, tenderly kissing every bit of exposed skin that he was presented with, careful not to leave a single mark on that delicate skin of yours. “Very good..” he coos, his hot breath felt on your neck and ear. His fingers toyed relentlessly with your aching cunt, his thumb circling your clit gently, and his lips littering chaste kisses to your exposed skin. He had quickly given up on the lesson at hand, now far too consumed in the way that you were writhing happily in his grasp, soft sweet sounds escaping past your lips. Your back arched into him, your head resting on his shoulder as you lost all coherency. Lewd sounds left you like a sinful prayer, trickling past your lips with no real power to stop them.
You whined, feeling the emptiness in your cunt as he pulled his fingers from you, only to have them brought up to your chapped lips, as he slid not one but both fingers into your mouth, pressing down on the pad of your tongue. A silent order, to taste yourself, to clean up the mess that you had made, and you did without hesitation, closing your lips around them, letting your tongue lap up any and all of the arousal that coated his fingers. He cooed, sweet and simple praises, between delicate chaste kisses to your neck. His free hand wanders the expanse of your neck, down to the top of your blouse, deftly popping the buttons one by one. His touch was featherlight, a mere ghost over your skin, and such a thing allowed for goosebumps to litter your skin. His thumb circles your nipple through your thin bra, smiling against your neck as it perks at his touch. He loved the possession he had over your body, the way you would let him do whatever to it as if it was his own, and you would argue that it was. That it belonged to him, that you belonged to him.
You weren’t sure when it changed, the suddenness of it all, but you found yourself being gently laid down against the hard polished wood of his desk, your back draping over the materials he had been studying, and your skirt pushed up your waist. His body hovered over yours, his hands gliding up under the blouse that he had worked open, greedily exploring the exposed skin, his head ducked and lips ghosting over the spot his hands had touched mere seconds ago. Your eyes had fallen shut somewhere along the way, relying on your other senses completely. Gentle kisses, soft bites, and languid movements of his tongue as he dragged it up your sternum and neck, taking in the sweet smell and taste of your delicate skin. You arched into his touches, soft sweet sounds escaping you at every one. Each of your senses flooded with nothing but him. His lips were pending over yours, a silent acknowledgement, that everything would be on his terms, and you were okay with it.
He didn’t bother to kiss you, and you didn’t request it of him either.
Tom made quick work of removing his trousers, before his hands slid up your thighs, fingers ghosting over your cunt, teasing you just enough to keep you present in the moment. He hooked his fingers over your panties and pulled them aside, the cool air hitting your bare cunt, a soft hiss escaping your lips. With his free hand, Tom wrapped his slender fingers around your chin, using his index and thumb to pull your face up to his. His eyes were cold, animalistic desire dwelling past the dark shade of brown. He tilted your head down so that you could watch the way his swelling cock slid into your tight cunt, forcing you to understand that he owned you, now in body as well.
Your mouth hung open in a silent gasp, the unrelenting feeling of him stretching you out was nothing shy of pain, but a sweet sweet pleasure. He watched your face, mocking the way you fell silent, with a sly smirk to his perfect lips. He forced you to watch every sinful inch of him disappear deep into your greedy cunt, time and time again. He wanted you to understand, to grasp the claim he had on you. You were being rewarded for your diligence, for your obedience, and he wanted you to know that you were his, only his. No one else could touch you like this, that's what he was saying to you.
Tom let go of your face, as he gripped your hips, jerking you towards the edge of the table. Your hands fall back to support you, arching your back slightly as you watch him with lidded eyes. As he moved, his pace picking up with each passing moment, you began to lose yourself to the delicious drag of his heavy cock, your sinful mantra of moans and whimpers filling the dark empty spaces of his office. His fingers gripping onto the soft pliable flesh of your thigh and hip was bruising, another simple yet effective reminder of who you belonged to.
He watched each little tick of your face, each pleasure filled twitch of your lips as you fought off a smile at the feeling of him, taking in each little puff of air that left your parted lips, each pant and moan of satisfaction. He coaxed nothing but the best out of you, building your release at his own desire, his own pace. Your head fell back, your eyes falling closed as you did. You were consumed by the feeling of him and your body was reacting to it in the only way it knew how.
You felt his hand leave your thigh first, before feeling it wrap around your throat, his long slender fingers wrapping around the curve of your jaw, as he willed you to look at him once more.
“You keep those pretty little eyes of yours…on me,” he whispered forcefully. There was no room for mistake, you would watch him as he possessed every part of you. He controlled it all, and you’d let him, you’d let him do it forever.
That's when it all changed.
He had been sweet seduction, and the thought alone drew you closer….until she came along. Professor. Hawkethorn had never been his match, not the way you were. She didn’t understand him, she didn’t see him for what he truly was. She had fallen trap to his charm, and that was only the surface. You watched it happen, your late night sessions with him faded, he seemingly didn’t need you as much, and he gave not even the slightest inkling why. He said nothing, entertained nothing, did, nothing. His time seemed occupied, but not by you, by her. Selvine Hawkethrone, the new history of magic professor.
Fine, checkmate. He didn’t want to see you? then you would make him. See you at your fullest, see that you were always there, that you had never left, and more importantly, that you were still very much his to possess.
He needed to see you, not her. He had no business with her, she wouldn’t do the things that you did for him, you were certain of that. She was only a disruption, a threat to what you guys shared, and she had to go. You wanted to show him your devout loyalty, the extremes that you were willing to go to keep him, to protect him, to *serve* him, and so you would.
You sat in *his* chair, his office dark and cold, nothing that you minded, as you waited…waited to hear the sound of polished heels clack on in the smooth stone outside the door. You pulse steady as the door opens, a small sliver of light filling the room.
“Tom?” her soft voice echoed off the shelves of books, as she warily stepped inside. Once the door was shut, you waved your wand lazily, the candles that surrounded his office springing to life with a dull crackle. Her eyes met yours immediately, and they widened almost as if they had seen something they shouldn’t have. She looked fearful. You had a crazed look in your eyes, as you looked over her in silence. She was pathetic, dressed in her best clothes as if she was expecting to meet Professor Riddle, and that's exactly what you had told her, in your little letter. Told her to meet you here, that you desired to see her, all pretending to be your dear dear professor, and she fell for it. Pathetic.
“You don’t deserve him….” you said, your tone hollow, as you watched her flinch slightly. “Did you really think that he would want you? Send for you? Come on Selvine…you have more sense than that…” you continued, pulling yourself to stand up, walking around the desk, your fingers taunting the flame of the candle. “Professor…you were never going to be his match, his equal…he is destined for great things and you were never going to be the one to help him fulfil that…your just….” You gestured to her with the tip of your wand as if to say something cruel, your face contorted in disgust. “Weak, you're just plain….ordinary…” you said, a mock tone of pity, your face in a frown.
Selvine said nothing, but reached for her wand slowly, not sure what to expect from you, but you saw it…”ah ah ah, don’t do that..” you warned. You were now pointing your wand directly at her, your grip firm and unwavering. You take a deep breath, tired of this moment…Selvine opened her mouth to say something but you were quick to silence her, ”Save it professor, you shouldn’t touch things that aren’t yours.”
You flicked your wrist and a green jet of light bursted out of the tip of your wand without remorse. You watched with glassy, transfixed eyes as her lifeless body crumbled to the floor with a thump. The simple unforgivable curse stealing what small pathetic life she had out of her. She was gone. Dead. you lowered your wand to your side, and stood there, slightly shocked by what you had done.
Tom had slipped out from a dark corner of his office, one where he had stood, watching the entire thing transpire before his eyes. His cold gaze watching you as he approached. Your eyes snapped up to meet him, startled, and unaware that he had been watching the entire time..but that meant that he had seen it, seen the lengths you would go to just for him. You had used the unforgivable curse, for him, something that you had never done before.
You felt yourself soften, at his appearance, as he stepped over the lifeless body like it was nothing but scum beneath his foot as he approached you. Gripping your chin like a child as he pulled you to meet his gaze. He almost looked pleased, a small sense of approval in his tepid gaze.
“You can't tell anyone, Professor, I did this for you...she was a threat, and I took care of it, I killed her for you...for us.” you pleaded softly, scared that you had upset him.
The darkness he lurked in had always been seductive, and when he held out his hand to guide you, how could you say no. You followed, eyes never leaving his, entranced by the beauty of it all, the beauty of the power and knowledge that he possessed. And he was going to share it all with you. It was then that you knew, the devil was real, and you were prepared to do anything for him. “I won’t tell anyone, it's our little secret.”
#fanfic#harry potter#slytherin fanfiction#tom riddle x you#professor tom riddle#tom riddle smut#tom marvolo riddle#professor Tom riddle x reader#tom riddle#the dark lord#fanfic smut#smutty goodness#angst?#golden trio#tom riddle x reader#Tom riddle x reader smut#slytherin boys#draco malfoy x reader#Theodore Nott#draco malfoy#blaise zabini#regulus black#lorenzo berkshire#slytherin boy smut
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Dark Harry smut where he fucks reader til she’s cock drunk please?
i kind of strayed away from this but here's some dark harry smut. this isn't very detailed or explicit but i couldn't think of how to make it detailed
harry overheard you today talking to ginny, "i don't know ginny, harry just hasn't been there recently. he's normally so attentive and i really don't want to complain but i feel like he doesn't want me anymore." harry clenches his fist and his jaw as he hears you doubt his love for you.
later on that night when he finds you in bed scrolling on your phone he pounces, climbing on the bed and hovering over you. "i love you so much." before you can reply harry leans down and kisses you hungrily, running his hands over your body.
caught up with harry's kisses you're barely aware that he's lifted up your shirt so he can play with your tits. he's silencing thanking you for not wearing a bra to bed. you whimper as harry pinches your nipple and he smirks.
harry's put you in a mating press and you haven't even realised until he's entering you, making you gasp at the stretch. "harry slow down, you're too big," you say breathlessly. he ignores you.
"mine. you're mine," he groans at you possessively speeding up his thrusts.
you grab hold of his arm, digging your fingernails into the skin, pain and pleasure simultaneously taking over your body. "yours," you whimper, bringing harry's body down to yours so you can kiss him. "yours," you repeat against his lips.
harry smirks, "all mine baby."
#harry potter x reader#harry james potter x reader#harry james potter#harry james potter smut#harry james potter x reader smut#harry potter smut#harry potter x reader smut#hp x reader#hp x reader smut#♡ harry#♡ mine / writing#cw : dark#dark!harry potter#dark!harry#hp ficlet#hp smut#hp x reader blurb#hp blurb smut#dark harry potter#golden era x reader#golden trio x reader#♡ lana's letters
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If It Serves You.
(Headmaster!Severus Snape x Reader)
Cw: Non/Dubcon + Aftermath, Afab Reader, Dark-ish Snape, Unprotected Sex, Powerplay, Sex as Bargaining, Facefucking, Crying, Fingering, Creampie, Begging, Degradation (use of slut) and Praise, Reader calls Snape ‘Headmaster,’ Former Student Reader, Mentions of Torture/Child Abuse, Denial of Feelings.
READ WITH CAUTION
Word Count: 3.7k
Summary: As a professor of Hogwarts, your past ambitions, your fragile hope and unrelenting diligence have all led to nothing. Now, you are powerless beneath the rising force of He Who Must Not Be Named and his army of Death Eaters. The only thing left you have to give is your pride; your weak and vulnerable body.
Or, you beg the new headmaster to show mercy to your students in exchange for sexual favours.
Dividers by @/saradika
Of course, there was no pressing need to check and recheck the potions’ storage. Certainly no need to catalogue it twice. You did almost it out of instinct, or force of habit. Yes, It’s healthy to maintain a routine, including routine inspections, just like- just like-
“Professor ___,” comes a gruff voice from behind. In your nervous state, you imagine it is a Carrow, and freeze in panic. “Why are you here?”
You whirl around. No. It’s Professor Slughorn.
“Oh,” you straighten your robes. “Horace. I was just taking inventory.”
“Were you? I’m perfectly capable of doing it myself.” He says brusquely.
“Of course, of course you can.”
Your voice carries the same placid, appealing tone with which you’ve used to calm your pupils. You wince at the sound of it. Then, his expression loosens. Not immediately, but little by little, settling into the creases and wrinkles of stress and age. His walrus moustache droops into a familiar frown.
“I’m… I’m very sorry, ___,” he says. “Whenever I leave my storage unattended for too long, I take this terrible notion that some very bright and brilliant student is going to brew a polyjuice potion. Heh.”
His laughter rings rather hollow.
“Yes, those were my thoughts exactly,” you concede, heaving a sigh. “It would be so simple. Not for all of them, but some of our best could do it. And then they would make a reckless attempt at escaping, or even try to impersonate one of those Death…”
You stop yourself, and peer carefully into his face.
You’ve noticed how Horace has visibly deflated, how he has lost his colour over the past few months. How could you not? You would never accuse the Slug of being slovenly, but you’re well aware that beneath all the powder his eye-bags are as sunken as yours.
“It is unfortunate that one of my… One of our best…” It seems that he cannot finish his sentence. Nonetheless, you know who she is.
“It’s a very unfortunate thing,” Professor Slughorn mutters idly. “Very unfortunate…”
He’s fiddling with a ring on one liver-spotted finger. His lips purse periodically, as if a throb in his temple is threatening to burst.
“Horace, It’ll all be alright,” you try to reassure him, knowing you cannot guarantee this.
The only response you receive is a distant nod. He does not stop fussing over his ring. Then, he turns abruptly stony again:
“Well, then,” he says. “You’d best be on your way.”
He dismisses you as curtly as he would a student, but you don’t protest. You know that when you leave, he will pacify his anxiety with a sleeping draught.
As you exit the dungeon and traverse the silent halls, the early winter chill rattles straight through your bones. It seems that Hogwarts grows colder each passing day; colder and emptier. Even when teaching, your classroom is as quiet as death.
Alchemy has never been a popular elective, and now you are down to very few students. Some had also disappeared completely over the Summer, mostly those without Pureblood status or families to support them… You try not to ponder too deeply on it. For their sake - and perhaps also for your own - you keep it together.
Yes. You must stay stubborn and strong. Especially considering what you are about to do now.
You shiver in your thin robes outside of the Headmaster’s office. The griffin sentinel glares haughtily down at you, and for a second you fancy it alive, judging you guilty for some crime. Thinking this, You glance this way and that, wary of onlookers.
But all of the students are asleep; or at least, they should be. Most of your coworkers have also retired for the evening. You here stand alone.
You take a deep, shuddering breath.
“Sugar Quill.” Your voice echoes eerily.
The griffin does not budge. The new headmaster has changed the password, of course. You suspected as much, but it was still worth attempting.
“Amortentia,” you try next. No response.
You shift, acutely aware of how ridiculous you must appear; a Hogwarts professor stumped by a statue.
“Polyjuice. Veritaserum. Bezoar… Asphodel.”
Nothing.
“Oh, for Merlin’s sake,” you huff, already spiked with tight, uneasy tension. “It was so much easier when Dumbledore…”
A low, heavy rumble breaks your train of thought as the spiral staircase emerges. You quickly mount it and climb upwards, boots clattering on the rising stone. It gives way to a large study lined with bookshelves.
You’ve made it into Dumbledore’s office.
Except it is no longer his. You must remind yourself of this fact often, and each time it stings, like a tiny pricking thorn ingrown into the heart. The study is far draughtier than you remember; devoid and bereft in the absence of Fawkes.
No, Albus is not here. Instead, what scowls over at you from behind the Headmaster’s desk is the unmistakable face of Severus Snape, and he does not appear pleased to see you.
“Kindly inform me why you are in my office.” His voice is slow and measured, but you can sense the venom lurking underneath.
“I don’t remember ever giving you the password,” he continues, alighting from his chair. “Or have you picked up that nasty eavesdropping habit from one of our pupils?”
He spat that last word as if it was a curse.
“No, Severus,” you say quickly. “I guessed it.”
Severus. Or Professor Snape. But now…
You think you catch him pale ever-so-slightly, or perhaps that is the dim lighting of the room, casting dark, creeping shadows across the floor. While there has never been a cordiality or warmth to your relationship, you recognise that you have been spared the worst of his barbed hostility.
Before now, that is; now, the distance between you is far too great.
“Did you now?” He sneers.
In response, you draw up, mindful not to appear challenging as you tip your chin.
“I’m here because I have a proposition for you,” you announce clearly. “I hoped you would be reasonable and hear me out.”
Snape’s eyes narrow icily and suddenly you are in his Potions class again, overseen with strict authority. One wrong move, and the concoction will spoil and poison you. His black robes billow as he approaches, expanding like the hood of a cobra.
“There is nothing you could possibly offer me,” he says, folding one shrouded arm over another. “And so there is nothing to discuss. Leave.”
Your nerves are strung so tight, you can’t help but object: “The Carrows are far too cruel in their methods! Too brutal. The students-”
“Are very fortunate to have been granted mercy by the Dark Lord,” Snape interrupts, and you swallow thickly. Of course, you could not have forgotten the festering dark mark that now itches underneath his robes, writhing and serpentine.
“But it isn’t enough,” you say, throat sandpaper dry. A rush of urgency floods your system. Now. It needs to be now, before you lose your courage.
(A gash on the cheek, a row of dark-purplish bruises and welts, a swollen eye, whippings and burns, scars from chains, all so frightened, but brave still.)
“If you agree to grant my students your protection,” your voice falters. “I will give… Myself to you.”
The silence that follows is agonising. His expression is indecipherable; taut and stiff. You’re beginning to think that maybe you weren’t transparent enough.
Your trembling hands drift towards your top buttons, and you start to undo them bit by bit.
“Stop,” Snape orders.
At this, you freeze. Your heart plummets starkly into your intestines. Oh. You hadn’t even considered that he would - or could - reject your offer. You fear you may have tipped the bubbling cauldron over and left it melting through the carpet. As you linger numbly, Snape’s tongue darts between his lips. Light flashes behind his stern black eyes.
Perhaps he’s considering it, perhaps…
“Come here,” he says sharply. You obey.
Shuddering in the winter chill, you watch the slow bob of his Adam’s apple, the twitch of his lids as his gaze dips steadily downward… Snape’s forefinger comes to brush the fabric from your shoulder, his knuckle grazing your collarbone, and your pulse quickens anew.
“I’ll do anything,” you plead. “Please, Severus.”
“You will refer to me as ‘Headmaster,’” he corrects.
“Headmaster…”
You suck in a shaky breath. Standing this close to him, you can make out the lilac rims of his sunken eyes and the worry lines on his forehead.
He’s tired… The thought springs to mind, unbidden.
The hand that tends to the rest of your buttons is not rough, but the coldness of his touch makes you flinch. Snape pulls down your outer robes in one swift motion, and you can’t help but gasp. Your nipples perk from the chill, skin prickled with goosebumps. Underwear was unnecessary, and though you knew that from the start, you are stripped so quickly it still leaves you cringing. He moves to fondle your breasts, and your breathing shallows. You stare desperately towards the floor, towards some old, faded tea stain.
“Fall on your knees, ___,” he tells you.
You kneel quickly in front of him, and he moves to cup the nape of your neck. You don’t need to be instructed; you do your best to steady your hands and unfasten the button over his crotch. You nudge out his dick, and see that he’s already half-hard.
Before he changes his mind, you spit into your palm and use it as lubricant as you get to work jerking him off. You can feel him watching you, silent and still. This situation is completely wrong, all wrong, but the awkwardness of it is almost juvenile.
“___,” he calls above you. You stiffen. You know that cautionary tone. “If you have enough cheek to wag your tongue at me, you can also use it for this.”
You nod faintly, licking your lips. Of course, you should have prepared for this, too, but you have barely even steeled your nerves. Hesitant, you lean forward and run your tongue along the shaft, tracing a vein. Your movements are practically mechanical; dispensing small, kitten licks over the tip, continuing to stroke him. This is now a kind of out-of-body experience for you, the sort of bizarre circumstance you can only encounter in a very strange dream.
But then, Snape decides your next course of action for you, clutching your jaw and muffling your whimpers as he sinks into your mouth.
A teardrop falls softly onto your chest, and it only occurs to you now that you’re crying. You gag out a sob as the tip of Snape’s cock hits the back of your throat, unable to prevent loose spit from dribbling down your chin. Above you, his breath hitches.
“Open your eyes,” he demands.
You didn’t know you had closed them; squeezed them tightly shut. You peek up at his pale face.
His pupils are blown wide, almost entirely black. Snape forbids you to keep eye-contact with a firm grip over your head, and you gag again as he rocks his hips. You clutch his thighs for purchase while he fucks your face, tears streaming down your cheeks. For distraction, you try to focus on him, and his pleasure-stricken expression lulls you in like hypnosis; the tightness of his lips, his dark brows slightly furrowed, the minute twitches in his jaw.
Snape’s thrusts begin to stutter, but he tightens his hold on you and forces you to take all of him. He drags in a sharp intake of breath, and warm, slightly bitter cum pools onto your tongue.
“Swallow it. All of it.”
You gasp for air, gulping it down hastily.
“You'll be getting used to the taste of me. Stand.”
Snape urges you up and steers you over to his table. Before you can blink, you’re whirled around and caged against his desk. The edge of it cuts harshly into your naked thighs, and you yelp. You can feel his long black hair sweep over your neck, a sensation that is almost ticklish. Snape yanks down your robes and they fall limply around your boots. Now, you are truly exposed, shivering and naked. The only source of warmth is his body heat pressed into your back, the starched, dark fabric of his clothing.
His cool hand dips around and feels down your stomach, and your breath hitches as Snape unexpectedly plunges several fingers into your pussy. You shock yourself with how slick you are, mortified at the way he tsks behind you:
“Little slut. Is this what you’ve always wanted?” Snape hisses into your ear, spreading the pads of his fingertips over your labia, teasing your clit.
“Yes!” You choke out.
“Yes, Headmaster,” he pinches your clit warningly and it feels like an electric shock.
“Yes, yes Headmast- ah…!”
He starts to rub in rough, merciless circles, and you immediately try to stifle a cry against your wrist. Snape rips it impatiently from you.
“Don’t even try to deny it. I can feel how wet you are.”
It’s surely not the truth. Surely, you tell yourself...
One long, deft forefinger slips into your slit and pumps steadily in and out. You let out a soft moan, unable to resist the quivering thrill that coils in your abdomen. You didn’t realise he would even try to prep you, and, against your will, you feel some of your fear dissipate.
“You think I didn’t notice, did you?” He scoffs. “Always so desperate for my attention, always clamouring for a better grade.”
Memories of your seventh year at Hogwarts resurface and spiral dizzily in your head. The newest, youngest professor, but strict and competent, and—
Dark, sweeping cloak, black hair, black eyes…
I even once wished I could brush away the strands…
Then he retracts his fingers, slowly, torturously, You hate how you yearn for his touch in its absence, how you crave the buzz to smother your discomfort.
Snape bends you cleanly over the polished table, your still damp breasts pressing into the hardwood. He traces a long, thin finger down your back, tracing languidly across your spine; you could almost believe his touch is tender. Almost. Instinctively, you try to turn your head to face him, but he denies you with a firm hand gripping the base of your neck. You whimper as he lathers cold precum on your thighs, positioning his straining dick over your entrance:
“…Or was it praise you were hoping for?” His voice is low and subdued. Snape’s breath fans over you, and for a moment you falter.
No, of course you don’t expect—
No, not from Professor Snape. Only your best was acceptable. To elicit a nod of approval, or even a commending glance, you couldn’t possibly hope—
“Headmaster, I— I only ever wanted you to…”
“Beg for it,” his tone sharpens again.
Snape slips the tip of his cock inside your folds. But then, he stops, and does not move. You are trapped between his desk and him, left pitiful and squirming.
“Headmaster,” you say weakly. “Please.”
“Please what, ___?”
You grit your teeth, still bristling at the indignity of it all. But you know that, whether he’s enjoying himself or not, Snape has the patience to wait this out.
“Please, fuck me!” you plead.
You gasp as he grips your thighs and slides himself in further with a lewd, wet sound. Your walls stretch around him as you adjust to his length. He groans softly and rolls his hips, sinking deeper into your cunt, until you’re utterly full of him.
Despite it all, it feels sinfully good, but his movements are so sluggish that you can’t help but whine pathetically into the wooden table.
“And what exactly is it that you’ve always wanted?”
What I always wanted, when I was in Potions class…
“For you to p-praise me, Headmaster.”
In an instant, you realise this is true. Deep down, you have always hoped for his sole attention… And now he’s invading that dark, primordial world in between, spurring on those secret and forbidden desires you should never have conceived.
Snape slowly pulls out, dragging every inch of his cock, and then snaps his hips back in, briefly hitting that sweet, sensitive spot that has you seeing stars.
“Please!” You add, letting out a shrill moan.
“And do you? Do you want this…?”
He mutters so quietly, it almost sounds like he’s begging you. Snape’s pace is set now, rocking powerfully into you as you fill the air with loud, desperate whimpers.
“I do!” You breathe, mind-numbingly uncertain.
But it doesn’t matter anymore if you want it or not; the sensation is so overbearing and so ruthless, unforgiving and unfair, just like him. You’re barely cognizant of the arms that curl around your naked waist, almost embracing you, until they provide cushioning against the sharp desk.
“You take me so well,” he murmurs, “So well.”
Your head spins, threatening to give up on you completely. You could never have predicted such a drastic change in demeanour. The way he’s treating you now is so different from his earlier cruelty; his affectionate caresses might be almost loving.
“So tight, so good for me…” He groans again, heavily, and the vibrations thrill up your spine as he spears you on his dick. “You’re doing perfectly.”
He kneads the soft flesh of your thighs, sighing blissfully. You can feel the spiking thrum of Snape’s heartbeat, the soft touch of his lips on your neck, kissing reverently over your shoulder blade. You wish you could just see the expression on his face, if you could only see Severus for one moment…
“Headmaster,” you pant, craning your head.
“Don’t,” he says hurriedly. “Don’t look at me.”
Snape doesn’t relent, forcing you firmly in place with a hard squeeze on your shoulder. There’s something thick and vulnerable in his voice that you can’t place, but all you can respond with is a needy cry as he speeds up, angling his thrusts just right. You can feel the familiar shock of pleasure coiling up in your belly now, surging from how deep he reaches.
“I’m the only one who can fuck you like this, aren’t I?” He snaps without warning, bursting with emotion again. You can only nod frantically in response.
“Yes, yes, Headmaster!” You sob, your eyes stinging with tears again.
Snape’s movements only grow stronger, his breathing heavier and huskier. His fingernails are digging small, half-moon indents into your skin. You don’t try to stifle the wanton moans that spill from your lips anymore, clawing for purchase at the wood.
“___… When you cum, you cum for me.”
Uncontrollably, you arch into the table. Your leg is cramping up from the exertion, muscles pulled taut, and you’re going to, you’re going to—
Your orgasm drowns the rest of your thoughts in static, white, hot bliss that smothers you. Snape shudders and moans as he buries himself to the hilt, pumping you full of his seed. His black cloak sweeps over you as he pulls out, far too soon, leaving you quivering and dripping with his cum.
The last, mangled strands of lucidity swim hazily in your mind. It takes a moment for you to remember why you were here at all.
After a few seconds, he releases you from the confines of his desk without a word. You bend down and hoist the ring of fabric up past your hips again, though your skin is sticky and damp. After a deep, shaky breath, you dare to glance at Snape.
There’s a thin sheet of sweat beading his forehead. Snape helps you pull your robes over your shoulders. He silently fastens your buttons back up again for you, and his touch is surprisingly gentle. You don’t rebuff him. Your hands are trembling enough as it is.
“Promise me that you’ll…” You halt.
Your vision is still blurry, but you could swear he looks like the old Severus. Not the figurehead or the professor, but the man. The Severus you once knew.
There’s a strange look in his eyes that you don’t understand, and maybe you never will.
You’re so dead tired you can barely drag your feet back to the staff’s living quarters. You wake Minerva— or, no, she is already occupied by her usual routine of restless pacing, tugging at her tartan dressing-gown. While she does interrogate you a bit crossly, you can tell she empathises with your ‘insomnia.’
After that you gulp down a contraceptive and stumble into bed, boneless and weary. You don’t cry at all, though you feel that you probably should.
In a way, you’re glad that Minerva doesn’t appear concerned or worried for you. That means she hasn’t found out. There was a persistent paranoia in the back of your mind that she had, that Minerva had seen or heard or sensed it somehow.
You wonder if she’d feel disgusted, or if she would simply pity you. Maybe that would be worse.
You flick your wand and flush out the light.
No. No one needs to know what you’ve done.
A month passes. The grip of winter releases its hold, and spring emerges in its wake, fresh and pure. It’s as if you can finally breathe again.
You hope that you do not imagine the way your student’s faces regain some semblance of warmth. You hope you do not imagine the unmarred bodies, mercifully free from wounds. You also hope that it is not their own schemes or plans that embolden them.
They should leave those matters to you.
Somehow, it feels like the nightmare is almost over. But not yet. Not yet. You still await your orders, and nurse lofty dreams of freedom in your heart.
When night falls, you strip off your underclothes and climb the spiral staircase once more. It is not excitement that tightens your chest, but it is also not dread. Perhaps something else you also do not understand, and cannot afford to think of now.
Headmaster Snape is standing by his desk. You realise he’s been waiting for you. He has that strange, mystifying look in his eyes again.
He offers you a hand.
“Come here,” he says.
#I made this suggestion in the discord and fully intended on following through#the title is from a song by The Shyness of Strangers#that made me think of him#my longest smut fic so far lets go lets go#harry potter#harry potter fanfiction#harry potter and the deathly hollows#severus snape#snape x reader#dark snape#headmaster snape#snape fanfiction#snape smut#severus snape x you#severus snape x reader#smut#angst#afab reader#tw dub con#tw degradation
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Pairing: dark! Sirius Black x fem! Reader
Warnings: NSFW, dry-humping, yandere themes, non-consensual touching, obsessive and toxic behavior, drugging, don’t read if you’re not comfortable with those things!!!
A/n: this is part 2 to my dark!Sirius drabble, just like promised. Better read it first before starting with this work. Turned out not exactly how I wanted it to be, but it’s better than nothing ig
Sirius has always been handsy, trying to touch you in any possible way at all times. And you almost got used to that, really, but now that you two were officially “dating” his touchiness increased tenfold - it felt like every minute of every day consisted of you swatting away Sirius’ prying hands and him trying even harder to lay them upon your body.
You’d look pleadingly at his friends, eyes watering and bottom lip trembling - Sirius’ behavior was obviously not normal. Remus seemed to understand that too, but still - he did nothing. He’d give you an apologetic look, eyebrows knitted together and corners of his mouth pulled downward in disapprobation, yet still he never intervened. James, as you got to know him better a bit further in your forced relationships with Sirius, was just as sick in his head. Not as dangerous as his best friend was, but certainly just as twisted. You saw how he was with Evans - following her everywhere like a lost puppy (or ravenous beast), suffocating her and everyone around with his heavy presence, attached to her like a chewing gum stuck in her pretty red hair.
So here you were, pressed against the stone wall in empty classroom of a huge castle, where Sirius made sure no one could interrupt you. Sirius’ lips were greedy, devouring you with such longing that made your knees buckle, and if it wasn’t for his thigh delved in between your legs - you’d be on a floor long time ago. Your tried to push at his shoulders, trying to get a boy off of you, but fruitless.
You’ve noticed a few weeks ago that something was off with you - your body became weaker by the day, as if all strength was seeping out of your pores hourly, leaving you a powerless rag barely able to keep up with all your classes. It didn’t take a genius to understand what was happening - Sirius was putting something in your food. You’ve stopped eating in front of him, only having an occasional toast or apple to not attract his attention too much; all the numerous sweets Black has ever given you as a gift ended up straight in trash - you didn’t risk consuming definitely drugged dainties. Madam Pomfrey blamed it all on your nerves and upcoming N.E.W.T.s, ignoring your numerous complains and advising to sleep and eat more. Yet still, continual trembling of your hands and weakness of your legs told that Sirius somehow managed to feed - whatever this shit was - to you, and pretty successfully.
Sirius’ hands snaked their way down your body, resting on your ass unashamedly. You squealed in protest, hitting his upper arms with shaky fists, but to no avail - Sirius just chuckled at your ‘shyness’ into your kiss, giving your butt a loving squeeze.
He forced your hips forward so that your bodies were pressed flush against each other. Sirius exhaled shakily at the feeling of his bulge rubbing against your stomach; he rutted his pelvis a few more times, moaning into your mouth sweetly at the feeling of his throbbing cock humping you through numerous layers of clothing.
- Fuck, I want you so bad, - he murmured softly against your lips, his hot breath hit your face, making you shiver unpleasantly. You gripped his upper arms, feeling his muscles flex under your touch.
- Sirius, please I-
- Shhh, I know, my dearest, I know. But not here. Not like that, - Sirius interrupted you with soft voice, red lips made their way along your jawline and down to your neck, scattering sloppy wet kisses on your skin, making sure to leave marks in all most obvious places.
- You deserve to be lavished, worshipped among finest silks like a princess that you are, not some quick shag on the desk.
You felt his hands moving up you back, caressing your body with tender touches - wide palms glided over your buttocks and up your lower back. One heavy hand came to wrap around your waist, giving it a firm squeeze; the other one followed the path of your spine, softly rubbing in-between your shoulder blades before cupping your nape, craning your head backwards for easier access. Soft wet lips slotted onto yours with such yearning, greedy tongue pushed assertively into your mouth; Sirius moaned as your taste engulfed him once more, he breathed hard and deep through his nose, hand on the back of your head pushed you even further into him.
You couldn’t help a little squeal tearing through your throat at the pressure. A few tears rolled down your cheeks - you were scared to near death; you still couldn’t understand Sirius’ emotional pattern, he was as unpredictable as weather, which only made him more dangerous. You knew he wasn’t all that scared of hurting you. And you were sure he would certainly do so if he deemed your attitude towards him unacceptable. You were scared to try getting him off yourself, especially since he had completely free access to your neck.
- But please, indulge me just this once. You’re driving me absolutely fucking mad, Y/n, I’ve never wanted anyone so bad, - Sirius blabbered, his hips humping against your stomach, strong arms keeping you firmly in place, not giving a single opportunity to inch away.
Sirius grunted and whimpered into your neck, you were sure that it was completely covered in bright hickeys and bite-marks at this point. Black moaned out your name quietly, his hips rutting against you erratically - he was nearing his high.
- I love you, I love you, I love you, fuck… ‘m so fucking close, - he mumbled mindlessly, hot lips pressed aimlessly agains your temple, hands gripping your shaking form as tightly as ever.
With a low growl and final jerk of his hips Sirius stilled; his tense body was trembling slightly, breathing uneven and shallow. He slumped against your smaller frame after a few moments, letting out an airy giggle. He buried his nose deeper into the hair on the side of your head, inhaling lungfuls of your scent.
- Sorry, shit. That was insane. I can use my fingers to make you-
- No, Siri, that’s okay. We’re gonna be late to class, - you interjected, gripping desperately on every opportunity to end all this as soon as possible.
Black-haired only huffed in reply, ducking down to lock your lips in a strong wet kiss. He broke away from you, unraveling his arms from around your body; Sirius did leave one hand on the small of your back though, rubbing your tense muscles with soft touches. His other hand came to fix your hair and askew collar of white uniform shirt, satisfied with the fact that it couldn’t cover all the dark marks he has left on your neck.
After quickly fixing each other’s clothes you hurried out of the classroom and through endless corridors of the castle, finally reaching your destination. Luckily, you came a few minutes before the start of the lesson, so you didn’t have to explain professor the reason of your yet another belatedness. Sirius sat you at the desk at the end of the row, saving himself a seat next to you by dropping his belongings there. He tilted your head up by your chin using his thumb and index finger, placing a what might be seen as loving kiss on the center of your forehead.
- ‘m gonna go clean myself up a bit. I’ll be back in no time, don’t have too much fun without me, ‘kay? - Sirius winked and placed yet another kiss on your forehead. ‘Quite a confidence he has for a guy with pants full of cum’ flashed in your head, but you quickly dismissed this thought.
You noted how Sirius gave a short nod in James’ direction, which, you figured, meant ‘watch over her while I’m gone’. Potter nodded back curtly and with that your “boyfriend” retreated.
You threw a short look around, catching your best friend’s - well, now ex-best friend’s - worried eyes, her eyebrows knitted together in worry as she noted your wet eyes and reddened face. You barely mouthed word ‘don’t’, knowing all too well how vicious Sirius would become if he happened to know about this short interaction between you two. If there was a person Black despised more than Severus, it probably was her - all because she could see right through his bullshit, trying to get you out of that hellhole despite all his numerous threats and blackmail. Her frown only deepened, but she turned away from you nevertheless; you relaxed a bit seeing that James didn’t notice anything.
For now, you were safe. Sirius’ needs were satisfied and he was practically purring with joy, hip pushed into yours as he sat next to you through the rest of your classes and at the great hall, babbling his usual Sirius nonsense. You forced a tight smile on your lips and nodded to his gibberish, your mind relentlessly giving ideas of all the possible nightmares tomorrow’s day may bring.
Likes, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated, they inspire me on creating even more content for you💖
#sirius black#dark!sirius black#sirius black x y/n#sirius black x you#sirius black x reader#yandere sirius black#sirius black smut#sirius black x y/n smut#sirius black x you smut#sirius black x reader smut#smut#harry potter#harry potter writing#harry potter x reader#harry potter x you#harry potter x y/n#harry potter smut#marauders#marauders x reader#marauders era#marauders smut#yandere harry potter#harry potter fanfiction#yandere#yandere x reader#dark!harry potter#dark!marauders
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Some spicy Theodore Nott headcanons˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚
Notes: this was like driving: I don't have a driver license. Seriously like, you absolutely hyped me up for writing this and now I feel like I need to go touch some grass and drink some holy water.
Btw we shouldn't feel ashamed, like the first people ever to write in a language that is more similar to ours, literally wrote about about two nun fuck1ng him 108 times (yes that's what he says) in a week bc they thought he was mute. Like women in the 700 were DYING bc of novels, bc they couldn't never have enough of it and the majority developed a masturbat1on add1ction. We can't be worse, that's just humanity at its core: we are h0rny creatures.
⚠️: The blue parts are from a poem, from the author Giacomo da Lentini and it's called "Meravigliosamente" (| put a translation at the end, because it's ancient Italian and you can't translate it with a normal translator). It's one of my favorites poems ever, it's one the best incarnation of what love feels like. Yeah now the poets are cursing at me from above.
Warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! 18+!!Breeding k1nk, p in v, ora1 f receiving, pregnant! reader description, nak3d people in general (idk what to put, BUT YOU HAVE BEEN ADVISED). English is not my first language, therefore you could find some mistakes, please report them to me!
With all being said: enjoy<3
—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—
Theodore Nott, your Italian Slytherin guy:
Theo loves to love as we already established.
He loves to give, he would let his blood dry for you.
Therefore he likes to take care of his dear ones, especially you, il suo tesoro.
I also already told you about how he will think about your future together, how he would love to have a proper family with you.
He just wants to have what his family wasn't capable of giving him.
So when the seventh year it's over, it also means that his only obstacle, the one that used to keep him away from his dream, is also over.
Something changes inside of him, un istinto primario prende il sopravvento. He knows that now it is actually possible.
«Meravigliosamente
un amor mi distringe
e soven ad ogn'ora.»
Maybe the first few months it wouldn't be so evident, he would probably keep it for himself.
He wouldn't like to put pressure on you, he couldn't.
But every time you get intimate, tutte le volte che fate l'amore, he can't help but think what it will feel like letting himself go completely.
Letting it happen.
Letting himself have a proper release.
Letting himself paint your inside white.
His warm finding the embrace of your core.
Planting a life, creating it with il suo tesoro, la sua diletta.
That's the ultimate dream e cazzo quanto lo vorrebbe.
«Com'omo che ten mente
in altro exemplo pinge
la simile pintura,
cosi, bella, facc'eo,
che’nfra lo core meo
porto la tua figura.»
But for now he still has to curse within himself, "cazzo, cazzo, cazzo.", imprisoning that release, that dream.
Simply wishing he could stay inside, saving every drop for you.
It's so hard for him to distract himself from the heavy daydreaming.
His mind as pregnant with thoughts as he wish you were.
You would just look so gorgeous round with his child.
And he would easily do everything under the sight of your new silhouette.
(As he wasn't already totally lost in this love, this passion per la sua bella)
This particular scene keeps repeating in his cursed mind:
You, full and completely bare before him sitting on your shared bed, nonchalantly putting cream on every inch of your skin after a shower.
He might be at the doorstep looking from afar or already on the bed
But it always ends with him interrupting you, taking your hands with devotion, already giving you passions with just his eyes, just for him to say: "dimmi quello che desideri e sarà tuo"
And he would literally do anything.
«Al cor m'ard'una doglia,
com'om che te lo foco
a lo suo seno ascoso,
e quanto più lo'nvoglia,
tanto arde più loco
e non po star incluso»
He would let you exploit his tongue in favor of your pleasure, savoring every drop coming from down there.
Growling just at your moist sight
And he would taste you like a starved man.
Over and over again.
On the bed,
On the Couch,
At the dinner table.
Sempre e ovunque.
Holding you still with one of his firm hands on your now round stomach.
Non è mai stato così facile inginocchiarsi e predicare da quando la sua religione, la sua donna angelo, sei diventata tu.
You look like a miracle to him.
And he would absolutely get lost in this strong trance filled with amore, passione e lussuria.
He would delicately lay your figure on the bed, like the most precious Greek statue of a goddess.
But the softness of your skin will make him realize that you are not a vision, but his blessed reality.
Your fullness getting in the way would quickly become the most delicious sight ever in his eyes.
His dead stare penetrating your soul along with his physical body.
He would tell you that his eyes look gone because he is convinced to be already dead and already in Paradise.
So lost in the haze, so convinced of the woman under him to be an angel.
And now, he is making her la madre dei suoi figli, sua moglie, la sua fiamma, da qui all'eternità.
Your legs, now afar from each other, looking like the most rare prophecy.
The softness of your skin feeling like the salvation from every sin.
Your swollen breast moving along his movements in you, rhythmically, like a fine melody.
And if by chance a single tear of your product falls from them, his eyes would shine like the sun during August.
He won't esitate to collect it with his mouth, tasting yet another one of your miracles. He wouldn't hold back the raw attitude taking over his mind, he simply couldn't.
«Assai v'aggio laudato,
madonna, in tutte parti
di bellezze ch'avete.»
When you two got together he thought he couldn't love you more, the same on your wedding day, but now he would simply let this love tear him apart he would still and always pray in your name.
In the morning he would wake you up gently, caressing you cheeks, watching as the eyes that caught his soul slowly open.
He would prepare breakfast for you, taking it directly in bed.
And every day will only be about you and you only.
Need a bath? Already prepped and warm amore.
You have swollen feet? A massage from him is mandatory.
Need to put the nursery together? Consider it done.
And don't get me started on the amount of stuff that he would buy for your unborn child.
He just wants to make sure everything will be ready for the big day.
But that's just a dream, playing tricks with his mind.
«Canzonetta novella,
va canta nova cosa;
lèvati da maitino
davanti a la più bella,
fiore d'ogn'amorosa,
bionda più ch'auro fino»
"Theo, darling, are you still here?" you ask him after two solid minutes of him staring at you, to the point that you were starting to feel suffocated by his gaze.
His pupils blown, and as his breathing increase, he finally snaps back from daydreaming.
But now, now it's been months of this agony, della sua mente completamente offuscata dal desiderio.
He just can't help himself anymore, he is a direct and honest person, he can't continue to keep this away from you.
And with the most serious expression known to mankind and his eyes firmly buried into yours, he doesn't hesitate anymore:
"Facciamo un figlio amore, facciamolo adesso, non ne posso più d'aspettare, non posso più nemmeno aspettare che er mondo faccia n'altro giro" he would tell you in one breath.
You kiss him delicately, "Allora non esitare, non aspettare che la luna fugga Mr.Nott"
"Ai suoi ordini Signora Nott"
"Ti amo tantissimo" the last thing he would tell you before finally letting himself completely go, completamente perso in questo amore, si che possa ammirare te, te sospirare e te amare, te soltanto.
—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—
Okay so here's the translation of the poem, the canzonetta, which as I said it's called "Meravigliosamente", in English “Wonderfully":
My ask box is open!✨🥂
<- part II
-> part III?
#theodore nott headcanons#my headcanons#my gif#Theodore nott x reader#theodore nott x you#theodore nott x y/n#Slytherin#Harry Potter fandom#theo nott x reader#Theo nott x you#theo nott x y/n#breeding k1nk#theodore nott smut#theodore nott scenarios#preggo kink#Theodore nott x pregnant!reader#slytherin boys#slytherin boys x reader#harry potter headcanon#fem reader#slytherin friend group#smut#italian literature#poetry#slytherin boys x you#theodore nott#pregnancy k1nk#Theodore nott aesthetic#new Roman Empire unlocked#dark academia
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Taunting.
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!! 18+
TW: adopted-cest, CNC, Vaginal sex, oral (f) receiving, breeding, degrading, and tw definitely not canon Draco.
Draco Malfoy x Fem! Reader SMUT
How could he possibly ignore her when she was practically begging to be looked at? Draco's thoughts plagued him, his family surrounded the table as they all listened to the Dark Lord spew his thoughts & rants though Draco never listened.
His eyes remained on the pretty Y/N, his little ‘sister’ Though she was adopted years ago, they still insisted that she was his sister. Draco didn't mind, he didn't mind at all that he got to watch the girl prance around their home in scald clothing. Almost teasing Draco, asking how much self-control did he have. He could barely focus then, now that she was dressed in that pretty little dress that showed off her perfect little waist, Merlin couldn't help him now.
Draco stare bored holes into Y/N’s head, she turned her eyes from Voldermort to her brother, who just smirked at her, giving her a small wink. Y/N smiled slightly at him, and Draco knew he needed to get that dress off of her. The thought of her staring at him with those pretty little eyes made him strain against his black pants, he quietly got up. Excusing himself, he looked at Y/N almost signaling her, and what a smart girl she was. She quickly stood and gracefully excused herself as well.
Draco quickly rushed upstairs, followed by Y/N. The two made it upstairs, the corridors were cold and dark. As Y/N was about to inquire about what was wrong, Draco pushed her up against the wall, breathing her in.
Y/N let out a meek noise, trapped between the wall and Draco’s body. He smelt like an expensive cologne, he looked down at her as she didn't dare make eye contact with him.
“What… are you doing?” She asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Draco’s hand went to her hip, pressing himself onto her lower stomach.
Draco chuckled darkly, “Are you really shocked, darling?” His voice seemed more strained than normal, “Walking around in that, you're practically begging for it.” He raised his hand to her chin, forcing her to look at him. “I’m talking to you, Y/N, look at me when I do.” His voice was low, almost venomous.
“How rude.” Y/N softly muttered, her hands on his chest, slightly pushing him off. “You dare speak to me like that? You’re my brother for Merlin sake.”
Draco’s hand that lay on her thigh slowly went up, ignoring her complaints. His icy eyes filled with lust, his mouth slightly agape as he touched her panties.
“Merlin, Y/N, how could you be mad at me when you're dripping? Such a pervert.” Draco laughed, Y/N blushed trying to push him off.
Y/N used her strength to completely get him off. “I’ll scream for Father, get away from me!” She whispered-yelled, quickly walking back down the stairs before she took the second step down, Draco grabbed her wrist roughly.
He quickly pushed her down to the floor, holding her mouth, straddling her. “You’ll enjoy this, trust me.” Draco left his pale hand on her mouth, the other hand fumbling with his suit pants. Though, Y/N was a force to be reckoned with. Biting his hand roughly. Draco gasped, pulling his hand away quickly, Y/N didn't scream though, as he examined his hands. “Little bitch!” He slapped her, not hard but not exactly light. Y/N quickly teared up, her cheek a bit red.
“I hate you!” Y/N attempted to wiggle from under him. Draco rolled his eyes, his sly hand going under her dress. Ripping her underwear off, Y/N gasped at that and her face turned red with anger. “I swear to Merlin, I’ll scream!”
“Yet you haven't.” Pulling his throbbing cock out, “I was willing to go to my bedroom, make this a bit more comfortable for you.” Draco pumped himself a few times; looking down at her body. Y/N eyes widened at the view she had, clenching her thighs shut. “But, you don't deserve that, fuckin’ bitch.” With that, in one fluid motion, Draco thrusted deeply into her.
Y/N cried out, Draco quickly hushed her with a harsh slap. The warmth of her pussy made him melt and the tightness of it was basically milking him. Draco couldn't help but moan, grabbing her hair as his eyes closed. He couldn't help but give it another thrust, and another until the sound of slapping was filing the corridor.
Y/N didn't want to give in, didn't want to admit defeat but a hefty whine left her lips as he rubbed her clit. Draco felt proud of himself, “Slut, enjoying your brother's cock, yeah?”
Y/N didn't answer as she used her legs to push him deep inside of her, “Want me to fill you up, huh?” Draco leaned to her ear, rubbing her clit steadily as he harshly snapped his hips into her. Y/N nodded helplessly, unable to deny her needs any longer. “Say it.” He softly bit her ear lobe.
Her moans came before her voice as she groaned, “Dr… Please!” It came out louder than she intended, “Please.” She could finally get out.
“Mmm…” Draco felt his stomach tighten, “I’ll take that, only because you're being so good to me. Not screaming or anything.” He praised, quickly kissing her lips. Y/N bit his bottom lip, hard, though Draco loved it.
Blood was Y/N could taste as she sucked his bottom lip, almost soothing her. Draco moaned and pulled away, grabbing her neck as his hips stuttered. He couldn't help it, her cunt begged for it.
“Let me get you pregnant, God, let me cum inside that pretty pussy, yeah?” Draco begged; his thoughts only of her swollen and filled, carrying his heir. Y/N only let out a whimper in response.
Draco bucked his hips inside of her, leaning down to kiss her, sweat dripping from his hair as he came deep inside of her. His muscles locked up, and his entire body shook in response. Moaning and groans came from the blonde boy. Y/N gave one final whimper, as he pulled out.
He breathed heavily, his eyes like a predator looking at prey. He smirked down at her as his chest went up & down rapidly. His muscular hands landed on her bare thighs, leaning down toward her cunt.
“Don’t think I was gonna make you cum, huh? Think I'm that bad in bed; you’d love that, wouldn't you?” He taunted, then licked her cunt from bottom to top, a long and taunting lick.
“F-uck you!” She breathed out as he sucked her clit, abusing the bundle of nerves.
Draco lightly grazed his teeth, her hands went to his blonde hair and pulled it slightly; he groaned. He saw his cum dripping out of her, he brought his hand towards her mouth. Y/N didn't need directions as she sucked his fingers. Draco took his fingers and trusted them into her, pushing all his cum back inside of her. His tongue quickly went back to her clit, Kitty licking.
It didn't take long for Y/N's eyes to roll into the back of her skull. Letting out a pornstar moan, her pussy clenching around Draco’s fingers. He continued to lick and thrust his fingers inside her until her orgasm was over.
Draco sucked his fingers, the salty and sweet taste of her & his cum filled his mouth, bringing a smile to his face. He sat next to her, putting his cock back inside his pants, his hair soaked and mouth puffy and wet. Y/N looked over at him, with cloudy eyes.
“You were asking for it.” He muttered, smirking. Y/N curled up to him, he rubbed her hair. “I’m sorry for hitting you, baby.” His voice was loving, as he stroked her tear-stained cheek.
“…It’s okay.” Her voice croaked, as she looked up at him. Draco gave a real smile, his canines showing.
“Good Girl.”
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This is my first smut I've written on here, it's not GREAT. Hopefully, you enjoyed it, if I made any mistakes or anything, let me know! Thank you.
- it’s Leo!
#draco malfoy#draco malfoy x reader#smut#draco malfoy smut#hogwarts fanfiction#hogwarts au#lucius malfoy#narcissa malfoy#dark lord#inncorrect quotes#harry potter#the marauders#golden trio era#idk lmao#cnc k!nk#degrading k1nk
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Day 2: Remus Lupin with Porn video
Ask: dark mob!Remus Lupin x pornstar!fem!reader with somnophilia and breeding kink please
Warnings: somnophilia, degradation, breeding kink, filming it, crying.
Taglist: @expelliarmusmyass
Sleep had overtaken you so quickly that night, you had barely spoken to Remus. Throughout that evening, he had worked himself up from watching you film for work. Truthfully, he had papers to fill out but with the thought of claiming you as his filling his head, he couldn’t do anything.
He turns to stare at your sleeping body and he can’t help himself but to lean down and pushing your underwear to the side to see you completely soaked. This sets him off and within seconds, he is fucking into you.
You awake to find him, very frustrated and on top of you. “Fuck, you like this don’t you? You like me using your pretty little body as I wish, tell me whore. Tell me just how much you want me to fill you up” he growls into your ear with a smirk.
“Please, rem, please, it hurts” you beg as he continues thrusting into you at an unloving pace. “I’m only stopping when you are completely filled with me” he snaps, pushing his hand against your soon to be bruised neck.
“No, don’t wanna, please” you cry out, his brutal words hurting nearly as much as his grip on your neck. This makes him snap, “you’ve gotta want me, you’re taking me so well, whore”.
His thrusts set your climax off and you can no longer hear coherently. The look of you coming because of degradation, causes Remus to completely hit his high as you cry from all the overwhelming feelings.
He slows down and you sigh thinking he’s done when he leans over to grab something. Remus grips you cheeks and makes you face the camera that had been playing this entire time as a trophy for him.
“Smile for the camera, whore” he smirks down at you as you attempt to push away from him. “No use trying, we aren’t done until I say we are done”.
#kinktober#kinktober 2023#marauders kinktober#remus lupin smut#remus lupin x reader#dark!remus lupin smut#harry potter kinktober
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Hi! Can you write something about how Mattheo or Theo would react to someone yelling and being really mean to y/n? It can be fluff or smut I will leave it to you❤️
what i was made for - m.s
pairings: mattheo riddle x reader
summary: mattheo comforting reader as she breaks down
warning(s): violence, comfort, mentions of killing curse, cursing, very sad ending (prepare yourself)
a/n: so originally, i was doing the request. but i ended up getting carried away with ideas.. and so if anybody wants me to make this a series i can !!
not proofread
it's been a really bad week.
everyone found out about my dad being a death eater, causing me to loose friends and people just viewing me differently
i get dirty look walking to class, whispering all around me, people gossiping and spreading lies.
it's hell
thankfully, i still have my friendgroup in slytherin, because at least they'll hear me out.
i also have my boyfriend mattheo
he's been nothing but sweet while everything has been chaos
he's helped me a lot, more then he'll ever know,
although, recently i've been more distant.
thing's have been getting harder, and i can't help but feel weak.
i don't want mattheo fighting all my battles for me, and also, it's just overall embarrassing
as i walk to potions, a group of girls stop in front of me.
i sigh, recognizing them instantly
they've been tormenting me this whole week
"what now" i say with a groan
"well, we just wanted to say we're sorry about what we said" one of the girls says and i keep my annoyed expression
"no you're not" i laugh
they all scoff and walk away, except one.
"go on now" i say, voice slightly raised.
"no, because you see.. they don't like you because of your dad, me on the other hand? i just don't like you." she says
i can't help but admit, her words caught me by surprise a bit.
"okay... why?" i say and she grins
"you don't remember me do you?"
i examine her face, trying to find the familiarity.
and then it hits me
"jasmine.." i mumble and she nods
jasmine was a girl in my class third year, she ended up leaving the school because of her ex.
"the look on your face? priceless. honestly, it was one of my reasons to come back" she says and i scoff
i see her tie her hair up
"you- you wanna fight me?!" i shout and she grins
"cmon, one way to settle this, you win? i'm gone, for good this time" she says nodding
next thing i know, jasmine is on the floor with a black eye and a broken nose.
i run back to the common room, getting stopped before i get there.
cormac.
"what happened? you finally get what you deserved?" he says, all his friends laughing
"fuck off" i say, trying to walk away
he grabs my wrist and i try to break out of his grasp but fail.
"let go of me!!" i shout, still trying to break free.
he abruptly lets go, making me fall.
him and his friends laugh and i stand up, tears filling my eyes.
i push him up against a wall, pointing my wand to his throat.
"you fucking mess with me again i'll avada kedavra your ass you understand?" i yell and he doesn't say anything, eyes widening
"do you understand??" i yell louder this time and he nods in fear
i loosen my grip, my wand now not being so pushed up against him, looking around i see all his friends looking at me terrified, looking the other direction i see mattheo.
i put my wand away, walking to my dorm, looking down the whole time.
closing my door, i break down completely.
i threatened someone with the killing curse
it hits me then suddenly,
i'm becoming just like my father.
i hear a knock on my door, not bothering to answer.
the door opens anyway, making me wipe my tears and any possible blood on my face
i'm met with mattheos soft gaze, the concern and worry in his eyes.
"get out!" i yell
"no" he says, walking closer to me
"mattheo.. GET OUT!!!" i shout
he's now inches away.
"get out, get out, get out." i say repeatedly, hitting his chest.
"let it out, it's okay" he mumbles softly
i eventually give up, just falling to my knees sobbing
he pulls me into a hug, stroking my hair.
after what feels like forever, but what was probably only a minute, i wipe my tears and sigh.
"sorry, i'm okay" i say sniffling
"stop telling me you're okay, you're not." he says and i look down in defeat.
"cmon" he says, grabbing my hand and dragging me to the bathroom
he grabs q-tips and hydrogen peroxide, cleaning the cuts on my face
the stinging doesn't phase me at this point, being too numb to really care.
"i'm becoming my father" i mumble and he stops his actions
"what? no you're not" he says and i scoff
"i threatened cormac with the killing curse mattheo, thats not something someone says in a civil conversation. i'd be surprised if i dont get expelled" i express
"i'll talk to mcgonagall about it okay?" he mumbles and i nod
after cleaning my wounds, we head into bed.
he wraps his arms around me, feeling overwhelmed by his warmth, i fall asleep.
i wake up in the middle of the night, gathering a sweater and my shoes.
i tiptoe out of my dorm to the astronomy tower.
i think about everything thats happened this past week
people finding out about my father, people hating me, threatning cormac.
it's that moment that a flip inside of me flips
a moment of clarity, realization.
i hear footsteps behind me, turning around and seeing the exact person i called for
"i'm ready" i say to him, walking closer.
in the end, all of this, it's all apart of the journey. because i am my father, and i couldn't come to terms with it before, but i am now, i can't deny destiny.
"you will be great, just as your father is." he says and i nod
"thank you, my lord" i say, looking at my wrist seeing the deatheater mark.
looking down at it, i smile, i feel complete.
i liked the power i had over cormac, the rush, the adrenaline. i liked fighting jasmine, that feeling of control.
about jasmine by the way, forgot to mention.. she was my ex. and she left because of me, she found out about my father and i told her to leave, and if she ever came back i'd have him kill her.
that was the start, where everything started going wrong.
i hear footsteps coming up the stairs, seeing mattheo.
"baby why'd you-" he starts speaking, but i notice his gaze shifting to my wrist
his eyes widen and fill with tears
"no... you didn't" he says in disbelief
"th-thats not fair.. i did what i was supposed to do..!" he shouts
i look at him in confusion
"i tried so hard, so hard. to make sure you never got the mark, i did everything, begged him not to" he explains
"mattheo, i did this, it was me."
the look on his face changes, changes to digust and shame.
"you wanted this?!?!" he shouts, tears falling down his face
"who.. who are you?" he cries, looking me up in down with that disgusted expression.
"mattheo.. think of how great we could be, we could be a team. do this together-" i start
"together? together?!?!" he yells
"you want me to- how long? how long have you been planning this?" he asks
"you don't want me to answer that mattheo." i say in honesty
"i hurt people mattheo, it's all i'm good at. i'm sorry you were the one to love me, when i told you not to, you should have listened" i added
"you were right, you are your father." he says in horror and i smile
"takes one to know one" i say, adding on a final goodbye,
"goodbye mattheo"
a/n: could make this into a potential series if anyone would want that, lmk!!
TAGLIST:
@strniolo @stargirlv0id @annaisabookworm
#mattheo riddle#mattheo riddle x reader#mattheo riddle imagine#slytherin boys#draco malfoy#harry potter#hogwarts#mattheo riddle smut#mattheo riddle fluff#theodore nott x reader#theodore nott imagine#voldemort#lord voldemort#angst#sad ending#death eaters#dark mark#betrayal#madispeaks!
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Oh hello, I just wanted to tell you that what you wrote is amazing! I read it over and over and couldn't stop reading. You are soooo amazing! *((Ugly crying😭❤️))*
And umm.. I would like to share about the imagination in my head about Dark Harry Potter. He joins the Lord Voldemort and betrayed all his friends. When the war ended, the Lord's side Voldemort wins. Everything is in chaos but Harry ignores it all because he only cares about the reader, his old girlfriend. (Harry still loves the reader even though the reader hates Harry.) He might have requested that the Lord Voldemort gave the reader as a reward to him after the war. Something like that, and ummm, a drama that is both bitter and sad and angry at the same time full of longing for each other? A rough and sad lovemaking? 🥺
hi! thank you so much for requesting! i hope you enjoy!
pairing: dark!harry james potter x fem!reader AU (18+)
summary: harry's all-consuming anger successfully tempts him to join voldemort in the war, sending you, his girlfriend, away in an attempt to keep you safe. years later he asks for your return, and is met with bitterness and rage as you struggle to navigate your feelings for each other in a post-war world.
c/w: smut!!! angst!! slow burn! mentions/threats of weapons, violence, abuse, and death/murder. smut is all the way at the end (grinding, oral, penetration, submissive!harry & dominant!reader) lightly edited, not book/movie/canon accurate
word count: 12.6k
a/n: this is giving me manacled x star wars and i love it lol, so so so much fun to write. i tried to make the reader more angst-y and dominant than normal, so if you like this please let me know! sorry if the plot doesn't make much sense. i also started school this week so please be patient with me! going to try and start posting shorter blurbs/headcanons between requests <3
harry was standing at a window in the lord's manor, watching the street below him as people sulked aimlessly by. it was a typical, gloomy day, the clouds gathering heavily above. it had been raining for weeks, maybe even months at this point, and it was beginning to cast a permanent gray shadow across the city. not even the weather could escape the tragedies of the war.
though harry chose to not dwell on the war, he felt its lingering effects. even from his lofty spot in the comfort of the lord's castle, which he barely left anymore. its walls had become harry's second skin. so long as he had everything delivered to him whenever he desired, it was disgusting to him to even think of stepping outside.
yet still, harry could see the abandoned and damaged shops just outside the lord's gates lining the courtyard along the cobblestone streets. the burnt remains of what once was. the sunken-in faces of the remaining people in the city. the lack of light, the lack of life, the lack of magic.
there's a part of harry, a weak cry from deep inside his repressed past, that feels bad. he was once a young wizard with bright eyes walking the streets of these same shops. he once enjoyed the sounds of shared happiness, and found solace in the fact that despite his lack of, there would always be joy in the world around him.
however, as harry grew older, and the circumstances around him shifted, he found himself getting angrier more often. not just on a weekly basis over small interactions or mistakes, but all the time, from the moment he was awoken by his nightmares to the moment he fell back into them. harry simply had no room inside of him left for anything else. it was just anger. pure, unbridled anger that only caused annoyance at first, then small outbursts of irritation after a while, and, eventually, he couldn't look at anyone or anything without wanting to physically destroy it for no reason other than he was just angry.
harry was angry at the world for having magic in it in the first place. he hated the divide it caused between muggles and non-muggles, pure bloods and half bloods. he was angry that divide is what took his parents from him before he could even properly know them. he was angry he had to grow up in abuse and neglect under the guise of 'safety'. he was angry he never received an apology, an admittance of guilt, not even a hint of closure for the past that was still controlling his present.
the boy who used to risk his life to save hogwarts and the students inside of it would eventually be the same one to let them fall.
when voldemort came back, and harry's anger was at its worst, he knew there was a connection. he didn't know about horcruxes yet and he certainly didn't know he was one. and yet he knew, somewhere deep inside him again, that it wasn't a coincidence. there was a reason his anger was consuming him, and the reason was voldemort.
after cedric's death, harry had begun to spiral. the nightmares were worse than before, he felt deathly paranoid constantly, and couldn't escape the intruding memories of the graveyard. though harry had managed well enough afterwards, still suppressing his rage, he couldn't hide the change in his personality from those closest to him. ron and hermione were the first to bring it up, but, of course, harry had snapped and told them to mind the business that pays them. despite his resistance, they tried until the very end to help their best friend see through his anger, to remember what was right and wrong.
however, once sirius was dead, it was all over.
harry had simply lost any hope that was left within him. watching sirius fall through the veil, his eyes lifeless and cold, was like watching harry himself die. he didn't think he could get any lower, and then he watched the only family he had left be cursed just within his reach.
harry was never the same after that. when he sat in bed late at night staring at the marauders map in his lap, he thought about how much he hated this life that's been made for him. the boy who lived, the scape goat, the hero, our only hope. it was crushing. harry was just a boy. he wanted to live a normal life.
but he knew he never could. not after tom riddle, not after cedric, not after sirius. even if everything went away tomorrow and harry could just attend his classes and be with his friends, nothing would change. he would still be alone, he would still be angry, and he would still suffer from his traumas. what was the point in fighting for good or living to see the end when you would always end up alone?
except, harry wasn't alone, really. he had you.
if there was one thing in this lifetime, one thing throughout this entire war that could have saved harry, it was you.
you and harry had been classmates for a year or so before really getting to know each other, and started dating not long after. when you were around, harry knew there was something worth fighting for. though he may feel angry and everything and everyone and everything everyone said, harry could never truly be mad with you. it's like when you looked at him the anger was muted, numb, deep inside him, and as soon as someone would interrupt it was bubbling at the surface again.
you were worried about harry, of course, and saw the effects his anger had on his relationships with everyone else around him. besides you.
he remembers you clearly, still to this day, and just how upset you were anytime he lashed out. if he'd felt anything other than anger at that time, it would've been guilt. guilt for hurting you, for scaring you. guilt, but not guilty enough to stop.
the anger was stronger.
even when you asked him, begged him, please, harry, please stop letting your anger win, and even when he promised, swore on his own grave, that he would try harder to stop for you, he never did.
harry was beyond angry. he was spiteful. all he had ever been was kind, a pushover who gave everyone the respect he was never graced with. he's saved strangers who wouldn't spit on him if he was on fire. he's lost his family in their sacrifice for the greater good that now rested upon harry's 16 year old shoulders.
he was beginning to think the fight wasn't worth it.
not only did the fight for good no longer seem worthy to harry, the fight against it only seemed to become more enticing. why should harry continue to risk his life and sanity when there would always be fights of blood purity? why should he be the hero everyone else has always wanted him to be?
for a long time, the answer was you. you were reason enough for harry to keep fighting, to keep his anger under control. when he looked at you things made sense for just a moment, his suffering was worth it to see you alive and well. until it wasn't.
everyone has a breaking point, and harry felt like he had finally reached his. as the war had geared up to a point of no return, harry had to make a decision. he had always assumed his decision was already made for him since birth, but he soon realized he never actually had to follow this path set for him in the first place. he was free to do as he pleased. he wasn't dumbledore, he wasn't his parents, he wasn't even the hero everyone thought he was. he was angry. he was spiteful.
worse than that, harry was vengeful.
so, when he met voldemort in the woods during the battle of hogwarts to accept his death, harry instead offered him a proposal the dark lord simply couldn't refuse. harry potter, his living horcrux, would become his successor upon his death. harry would fight with and for voldemort, training to become the most powerful dark wizard in history, and to finally let tom riddle rest well knowing the world was in just as dark, evil hands as his own.
though voldemort was skeptical at first, naturally, as harry expected him to be, he could eventually see the darkness within harry nearly consuming him whole. he was as serious as death itself. he no longer had the desire within him to continue fighting for, what he saw as, a lost cause. voldemort was rather pleased with this news, though never expected harry to come around like he did. he hadn't even considered it, really. but who was he to deny his own successor?
upon harry's return to hogwarts with voldemort and his death eaters in tow, every single person who watched was stunned into silence. even mcgonagall, who had been instructing and encouraging the students all night in their fight, had become speechless and teary eyed at the sight. ron had to catch hermione, who nearly fell to the floor.
but nobody was as upset as you were.
you had already been sobbing watching harry walk off into the woods towards his own death thinking you would never see him alive again. only to watch him emerge from the same treeline with the enemy by his side. it's like you got kicked in the gut. you would've almost rather never seen harry again.
"harry!" you had screamed in a broken voice as he crossed the bridge, voldemort's snake slithering at his feet. you were running to him, breaking through the multiple arms that tried to hold you back.
voldemort tried to raise his wand to you, but harry had stopped him, telling him to let him handle it. he was suspicious at first, still not fully trusting harry's intentions just yet, but was reassured by the sinister look in his eyes.
harry looked at you. he remembers feeling a twinge of that same guilt from before, the tiniest spark of hope deep within his rage. he really did love you, at least at some point he did. you would've made all of this worth it, you would've been the reason to keep going. but not even you were reason enough anymore. for so long he had been ready to take his revenge on the world that failed him.
"harry, what are you doing?" you had asked him, voice shaking. you were almost whispering, your eyes nervously glancing towards voldemort every other second in fear for your safety. harry grabbed your hands but you pulled them back, a look of disgust coming across your face.
"come with me." harry had told you. your look of disgusted transformed into shock, anger, confusion, and guilt. there were mumblings coming from the crowd of students behind you. "what?" you had asked, nearly breathless at this point, your eyes searching him for answers.
"come with me, [y/n]. i want you by my side as i become the most powerful dark lord in the world." harry explained, taking steps towards you with an excited grin on his face, his eyes still dark with corruption. you were still in shock when he grabbed for your hands. he kissed your knuckles softly with a quiet, "i love you,"
he had meant it, but not like he used to.
it took a few moments of silence and some tense eye contact before you pulled your hands away, letting the tears fall again as you attempted to gather your words. "you can't do this, harry. i will never join the dark lord. you know this isn't right, why are you doing this? why? why?" you're practically begging for an answer as harry looked away, an irritated expression on his face, clenching his jaw together. your hands reached for his shirt and jacket, trying to shake some sense into him as you grasped them tightly and pulled him closer.
"don't you love me?" you had asked him in the most heartbreaking, soul crushing voice. your words were weak, but your sentiment was palpable. you were bloody, dirty, covered in scars from fighting, holding harry close to you as you begged him with wide eyes. not too much earlier in the year he would've folded immediately looking at you, so innocent and desperate, his last bit of hope in the world.
but it was already far too late.
"take her to azkaban," harry had announced, angling his head back to the deatheaters behind him, keeping his eyes locked with yours. your grip on his clothes loosened and shocked gasps came from the crowd. harry looked at voldemort, who was a bit puzzled by the situation, but backed up harry's real nonetheless. "you heard the boy," he snapped towards the men behind him.
the deatheaters walked towards you as you stepped away from harry. "no, no, no, stop!" you were screaming, trying to back away from them, but they had grabbed your arms aggressively and began dragging you towards the bridge. "[y/n]!" a few students had shouted, running towards you before their attempts were blocked by a wave of voldemort's wand. the students fell to the ground, watching helplessly as you continued to fight your way out of the deatheaters' grasps. harry stood still, emotionless, completely stoic as he heard your desperate wails and calls for his name disappear into the woods behind him.
the rest of that night or day or whatever it was has since been completely blocked out of harry's mind, forever. his rage had reached a level he didn't know was possible. all he could recall anymore is the blood, the screaming, the running, and the light of his wand in his hand. many students and professors died during that battle at his hand, along with voldemort's and the deatheaters'. the castle was then burned to the ground, signifying the end of the battle. hogwarts had never stood a chance.
and, now, harry stands in the dark lord's manor, staring at the abandoned buildings lining his street, and he's thinking of you.
he often wondered how life would have been if you had joined him that day. though his years since have been packed with death, fights, destruction, and chaos, there were moments alone or in peril where you crossed his mind like a gentle breeze. a simpler part of his past, a light in his darkness. your soft, kind eyes, wide with shock as you back away from him, fixated on the deatheaters coming to collect you. your sweet, melodic voice screaming and breaking as you were dragged away, fighting for your freedom. harry could remember the moment perfectly despite everything else in his life being a blur.
he wonders how you would have filled the role as his partner in crime after choosing him. two dark lords unstoppable against the forces of the wizarding world, fighting 'good' and spreading evil just as he had been this whole time. would you have succumbed easily to the temptation? would you be as dark as harry was? could you maybe even be darker?
but harry knew it was a fruitless endeavor from the beginning. he had wanted to ask you anyways, to at least give you a chance to make the decision to be with him, even if he already knew what your response would be. harry was a bit let down at first, hoping maybe there was enough love between you to push morals aside, but he knew he would never be that lucky. part of why he fell in love with you way before his anger began was your commitment and dedication to what you believed was right. that same trait would be the driving force behind his decision to lock you away.
harry knew you. and he knew you wouldn't stop fighting until your body gave out, and maybe even after that. he may have lost you by sending you to azkaban for the foreseeable future of the war, but he'd rather know you were safe somewhere solitary than spend his years wondering where your dead body had been rotting into the dirt all this time. though azkaban was desolate, dark, isolated, and torturous, it allowed harry to sleep at night thinking of your still-beating heart resting safely behind those impenetrable walls.
lately his nights had become more restless, though, as the thought of you still residing in azkaban began to sit with him. he didn't feel guilt, really, he knew it was what was ultimately best for you. but he did miss you.
after the war had died down and voldemort took his place as the rightful dark lord of the world, harry's anger began to subside for the first time in years. rather than rage fueling his insatiable desire to destroy, he felt incredibly numb and disengaged with everything around him. the desolate streets and grim sky and abandoned city outside the windows began to fit his mental state more and more. for the first time since he was a teenager, harry could see past the anger.
and all he wanted was you.
so, harry had reached out to the dark lord, who spent most of his time at his new ministry castle across the country from the old manor he let harry watch over. they communicated every so often, checking in on business and social matters, but otherwise never had to meet in person.
harry sent him a letter asking for your release and direct delivery to his household, barring from reason. he felt after the war he had lead with and for voldemort, he owed harry a singular favor all these years later.
it only took 2 days for a confirmation letter to be sent back to harry, signed by voldemort himself, dating your arrival for the next day.
harry had his house elf, jinx, make up your room, asking her to be sure it was comfortable and clean before your delivery tomorrow afternoon, and to also provide plenty of options for dinner.
harry spent all night thinking about you, wondering what you'd look like after all this time. how similar or different you would be from what he remembers. how you'd react to seeing him. he knew you well enough to know you wouldn't react well, likely needing an extended period of alone time to adjust being here before he'd ever get a civil moment with you. but he was up for the challenge, otherwise he'd never ask for your return in the first place. he was releasing his anger, and instead building his patience, if not just to hold you one more time.
there was a delicious smell filling the mansion as the clock drew nearer to your arrival. harry was dressed better than he had been in years, and had jinx make the usually desolate looking building feel warm and inviting. fireplaces roaring, warm lamps flooding the hallways, and the grand dining table set to perfection for 2 particular guests.
harry didn't want to make it too obvious, but it was hard for him to hide how excited he was to see you again. even if you were different, even if you hated him, all he wanted was to see you in person, his eyes locking with yours for the first time since the day you were dragged away at his command.
once the hour was upon him, harry could hear footsteps and voices on the second floor. his heart leaped, setting down his glass of wine before heading for the stairs.
"let go of me, let go of me," a strained voice was crying down the hall, the sounds of a struggle coming from harry's left. he saw two house elves, rather squat and bulky, holding onto the arms of a frail body covered in a simple striped prison dress.
one elf turned to harry and gave him a devilish grin, "ah, there's the man himself!" he growled, his partner turning as well. "sorry we were late, mr. potter, someone here wasn't too keen on leaving azkaban, for some reason," he apologizes, pulling at the arm he's holding.
you slowly turn your head and stop struggling, your eyes wide with fear and mouth dropped open. "harry?" you whispered to yourself, your knees nearly giving out beneath you before the elves aggressively pulled you back up.
the first elf groans, rolling his eyes at you. "where can we put her, huh?" he asks, his tone impatient. harry pulls a few gold coins out of his pocket and hands them over to both of the elves. "right here is just fine. thank you, boys," he tells them.
the elves happily accept the tips and drop you to the ground, quickly disappearing in a flash.
you're left heavily breathing on the floor of the hall, sniffling and groaning in pain before diverting your attention to harry. your eyes were still wide, your eyebrows creased in confusion as you tried to move yourself further away from him on your hands and knees.
harry gave you your space, but watched intently as you nervously increased the distance between both of you. your hair was long, tangled, greasy, and falling around you like a curtain. you were smaller than he remembered, your eyes sunken in and cheeks more hollowed than before. you were pale, and visibly dirty. the soles of your feet were nearly black.
harry felt a pain in his stomach, his blood pressure rising imagining how you lived inside the walls of the prison. he couldn't identify the feeling. it was different from anger, but it wasn't far off.
as you continued to back up, your eyes shifted to a widow on your right. you slowly gained the energy to lift yourself and reach for the window, throwing it open before attempting to stick your hand out.
your hand hit the open window like you had never moved the glass barrier. you continued trying to stick your hand and head out, hitting at the invisible barrier with all your strength, making frustrated sounds.
"there's a spell on the house, love. you can't leave, just for now, until we can work things out," harry tried to explain gently as you continued trying to escape. he took a step towards you and you stepped away, leaning on the wall for support as you began to cry harder.
"get away from me, get away, what the fuck, what the fuck is happening," you tried to shout at him, your faced turned away and other arm putting distance between you and harry. you were gasping for air, your voice stressed and broken, shaking your head as you tried to continue backing up into the wall.
harry still attempted to give you your space. he hated to see you like this. you were so defensive and scared of everything going on around you. he wanted to give you time to calm down, but felt you needed to know what was going on.
"[y/n]," harry said, causing your head to snap towards him with curious eyes. your arm lowered slightly, your knees still weak beneath you. "listen to me, okay? just for a second," harry tried to ask kindly. he hadn't realized just how long it had been since he talked to someone this gently.
you continued to stand defensively, your eyes scanning harry up and down nervously as your breathing slowly started to still.
harry sighed, taking a moment to collect his thoughts before turning his attention to you again. "i know this is a lot, and i know it's confusing," he starts, his voice unexpectedly shaky. "but i asked voldemort, and i had you released from azkaban. i figured you may like a warm place to stay, so i had you brought here,"
you still looked confused for a moment before you narrowed your eyes, your arm coming up once again to defend yourself. "what are you talking about? where are we?" you asked harry suspiciously, still scanning him from head to toe.
"my manor. well, the lord's manor, but, essentially mine," harry says a bit awkwardly. you gave him a look of disgust, leaning further into the wall for support. "why would i want to be here? with you?" you practically spat at him with hatred in your eyes. harry was unaffected.
"i know you don't. but there's nowhere else to go. i promise." harry tells you solemnly. your eyes widen a bit again, a flash of fear coming across your face, but the anger quickly returns.
"i'd rather live in rubble than prop my feet up in the dark lord's manor," you say sharply, taking a step towards him in attempt to intimidate him. though you weren't much shorter than harry, you were weak, and tired, and he wasn't necessarily afraid of your threats.
he took a step back anyways, giving you more space. "look," he says, his eyes turning to the floor before he can steady his breathing and reply. "it's just for now. if you really don't want to stay, i won't make you." he says softly before returning his eyes to yours. they're not as bright as he remembers them in his dreams about you.
"but," he says, causing your jaw to clench. "you will stay until you're well again. and it's not up for debate." harry tells you firmly, his tone not as gentle as before.
you swallow harshly, your stomach growling audibly as the smell of the food downstairs begins to settle into your senses.
harry notices this and smirks to himself before quickly returning to a neutral state. "now," he announces, straightening out his blazer. "until the food is ready, there's a room made up for you just down this hall and to your left. it has a bathroom, and clothes. take all the time you need." he says before promptly turning on his heels and heading downstairs, his heart still racing from his encounter with you.
sitting in the living room watching the fireplace in front of him, harry eventually hears the door of your new bedroom click open and swiftly close. not long after he can hear the plumbing rumble as you take your first shower. he smiles at the fact that you're finally in his life once more, even if the circumstances were completely unusual.
harry's nearly concerned and wanting to send jinx to check on you after 2 hours of running water before it stops, the sound of the bathroom fan taking its place. harry's relieved.
"jinx, could tell our guest the foods ready," harry tells the elf as she brings the last tray from the kitchen to the dining room. she nods to herself, shuffling up the stairs sluggishly.
harry's pouring another glass of wine in the kitchen and decides to pour you one as well. on his way into the dining room, he sees you standing in the entryway. you're dressed in a large jumper, oversized pajamas bottoms, and your hair is still rather wet plopped into a bun on top of your head. your skin is rubbed raw, your cheeks still flushed pink as you analyze the table full of food in front of you.
harry smiles at your shocked gaze, your stomach growling again as he tries to hand you your glass of wine. you turn your nose at him, taking a step back. he smiles curtly and heads to his seat, setting your glass with his.
"figured you might be hungry," harry says as he sits down, his plate made for him already. he looks at you, arms still crossed, nose turned away, but eyes peeking at the endless food at your disposal. he can tell you're trying to keep your guard up, but your stomach hasn't stopped rumbling since you came downstairs.
he gestures to your chair just across from him, a plate made for you as well. you look at him, your eyes curious but expression still tight. you carefully take a step closer to the table, but you're still weary.
harry gives you a sympathetic smile. "after tonight you can have any meal you want in your solitude. i just thought i'd be nice and host my guest for the first night," he tells you, catching your gaze.
your curious look quickly turns to one of anger. "i'm not your guest. i'm practically a prisoner again." you hiss, your eyes boring into his with contempt. harry can sense the rage building inside of you. he's familiar with the feeling.
though you were different in so many ways, your dull eyes and lifeless voice, you were also similar in your determined attitude. you had always been the type to stand up and take charge, which harry completely admired and was impressed by. he found your beauty to be most potent in your strong will and cunning mind.
he admired you for just a moment, looking down at him with enough hatred to send shivers over his body. you looked so young, your skin supple and smooth under the light of the candles and fireplace, your hair falling loosely to frame your furrowed brow. you were just as pretty as he remembered, even if your expression always contained a hint of sadness and fear around him.
harry simply smiles softly, sitting back in his chair. "i prefer guest," he says teasingly. you suddenly snap at him, grabbing for his steak knife and pushing your arm to his neck against the back of the chair, holding the point of the knife to the side of his neck.
if looks could kill, the knife would've been unnecessary. your eyes were nearly black as you shakily push against harry's throat. "let me out of here now or i swear, harry," your voice cracks saying his name. "i swear i'll fucking kill you," you spit, leaning further into your grasp him on, your jaw clenched tightly.
harry, to your surprise, just chuckles to himself, not even struggling to breathe as he looks up at you deviously. your eyes widen just before you feel your arms start to move for you, as well as your legs. your neck is strained as well, an invisible force pushing you away from harry as the knife drops from your hand.
you're suddenly released from the mysterious grasp, and you choke out a breath, looking back at harry. he's smirking, but trying not to let you see as his pointed hand lowers from you. he fixes his shirt and chair, gesturing again to your seat across from him. "as thrilling as that was, love, not yet. i'd like you to stay here for at least a month before i consider placing you elsewhere." harry states, picking his knife back up to place on the table.
you stare at harry incredulously. "a month?" you ask, your face turning red again. you take another step towards him but you falter in fear of him using the same force as before to stop you. you stumble as your mind races to gather your thoughts. "how…you…i'm not staying here for a month! this is insanity! how could you send me away like that and just bring me back like it was nothing? a shower and a plate of food and suddenly those 5 years in azkaban never happened?"
you're now shouting at harry with a broken voice, your emotions on high as the tears threaten to fall again. harry watches you, just watches, and simply gestures to your chair again. "just join me," he insists.
you go to yell again, but harry sternly interrupts. "we can discuss this another time. please. sit down." he commands from you.
your mask drops for a moment, a look of fear crossing your face before diverting your eyes away completely to your chair. your stomach growls again, your hand covering it to hide the sound.
it takes a few moments until you slowly make your way to sit down, glancing at harry before taking your seat. harry begins eating silently, and, not long after, you're digging into your first real plate of food in years.
harry can't help but smile to himself subtly watching you indulge yourself for a moment, the mask slipping again as you gratefully shovel spoonfuls of food into your mouth with a sigh of relief. he was glad you were eating, even if he had to put up a bit of a fight to convince you.
as harry finishes up, you're still making your way through your second plate. he stands, grabbing your attention and making you curl back into your seat. "jinx," he calls out before sipping the last of his wine. jinx comes to the table and grabs harry's glass and plate, turning to take them to the kitchen.
"[y/n], this is jinx," harry motions to the elf, who gives you a warm smile. you return the smile, but it doesn't reach your eyes. "if you ever need anything, anything at all, don't be afraid to ask her. she lives to serve," harry tells you proudly, earning a slight look of disgust from you before returning a smile at jinx.
"this was a lovely dinner, ms. jinx, thank you so much, truly," you thank her honestly. she bows to you slightly before continuing her way through the doors to the kitchen.
you shoot harry a glare. "the harry i knew would've never kept a house elf," you say, your words dripping with disdain. harry ignores your statement, turning to the stairs before ascending them.
he leaves you alone at the dining table, closing himself off in the master bedroom for the night. just as he's finishing up brushing his teeth, he hears your door click shut. that night he fell asleep feeling more reassured than he had in years knowing the pretty girl he couldn't keep his mind off of was asleep just down the hall from him.
it had been a few weeks since harry moved you in, and he rarely ended up seeing you in the mansion. you were often locked away in your room, or taking showers, and harry only ever saw you when you were finishing up a meal with jinx.
you had become quite close with her, it seems, which harry found sweet. he was worried at first that you may be using jinx as a way to find an escape from the house, but after a while without incident, harry realized how silly the idea was. you truly could connect with anyone.
one of the only other times he saw you, though, was when he passed by the open library one night. harry had been restless, thinking about his past in depth, feeling emotions he couldn't place, and decided to watch the sunrise to clear his head. he took a quick glance through the doors before spotting you curled up on one of the couches, a book in hand, fast asleep beside a warm lamp.
harry stopped, taking a moment to admire you from afar. you had gained some weight back being here, which harry loved to see. your cheeks were full and rounded, your hands not as frail, and the color was coming back to your skin. your hair looked impossibly soft under the light, sprawled everywhere around your angelic, sleeping face. harry couldn't help the cheesy smile that overcame his face. he was just happy that you were okay.
outside of that, harry spent most of his time alone, thinking about you. you hadn't reached out to him yet, which he expected, but was surprised when a month came and went and you still didn't confront him. he hadn't made his decision just yet, so he didn't have an answer for you even if you had asked him. he saw you were doing better, but still wasn't confident in letting you go. not just for selfish reasons, of course, but he wanted to be sure you were equipped enough to live on your own.
but, harry had to admit, his heart raced when he heard your soft footsteps pass his door to the stairs. his mind went blank seeing your figure standing in the dining room with jinx, chatting over a plate of snacks together. his blood ran cold when he heard your soft giggle from somewhere in the mansion. like a beautiful ghost haunting his past.
harry knew even before he sent his letter to voldemort that his feelings for you had never truly gone away. deep under his rage, his unforgiving heart, his cold blooded nature, his love for you had always remained. but he was learning to accept your departure if you chose to do so. a final goodbye to the most beautiful part of his unsightly life. harry wasn't sure he could handle the idea.
he was struggling with his thoughts, the constant back and forth he was feeling about you. at first harry was sleeping better with you there knowing you were safe, but now he stayed up late worrying himself sick over the decisions he had to make now that you were actually there.
sitting in bed, staring at the rising sun through his window, harry's mind was exhausting him. he hadn't slept all night and could feel the effects setting in. slowly, he stood from the bed and slipped on his house shoes along with his robe. he quietly leaves his room to not disturb you so early just down the hall.
he walks to the opposite end of the hall towards the balcony, and takes his usual seat facing the sunrise.
harry contemplates here most mornings, but never comes to any radical conclusions. he doesn't know what to do, he doesn't know what's best for you anymore. he knows he selfishly wants you all to himself still, but also knows you deserve to live the life you want no matter what his opinion is. it's the same conversation with himself every time, and it leaves him confused and upset for keeping you here like he is. even if his heart is in the right place.
his thoughts are interrupted by jinx, who offers harry a cup of tea. he thanks her, but quickly calls her back to ask a question. "jinx, um…[y/n], how is she doing?" he asks.
jinx, a quiet house elf, gives harry a smile, and pats his shoulder. her smile is warm and reassuring, as well as her hand. as she walks off, harry smiles to himself a bit. he's not completely satisfied with the answer, but he takes what he can get.
finishing his cup of tea with the sun shining over the horizon, harry turns to head inside before being met with the sight of you standing at the open doorway of the balcony.
you're dressed in a simple long sleeve pajama shirt along with comfortable pants, your arms crossed as the morning chill sets into the air. harry's a bit startled at first, but gives you a polite smile, diverting his eyes and walking around you to leave you be.
"harry," you said softly, turning to him.
harry's heart dropped, but turned to you promptly with eager eyes. the way you said his name, your soft voice, he was already so captivated by you.
"can we talk?"
now harry was worried. this is what he's been afraid of since you got here. he's not ready to answer you. he doesn't know what he's going to say when you desperately ask him to leave and never come back.
"of course," he says calmly, gesturing to the balcony so you could sit together.
once you've joined him in watching the sun, you two fall into a somewhat comfortable silence as the soft wind whistles past.
"i never thanked you," you said quietly after a while, almost a whisper in the wind. harry looked at you, looking at the sunrise. your face was radiant. you were brilliant in the light of the sun, your hair still impossibly soft and beautiful, falling around you, following the flow of the air. harry was overwhelmed with the beauty your presence held in this moment. "you never had to."
you glanced at harry, studying his expression, before turning back to the sun. "it's also been a month." you state coldly. harry's gaze drops, sighing. "57 days, technically," he mumbles.
a few moments of silence pass again, leaving harry an anxious mess in his seat. he tried to think of a gentle way to let you know he still needed time to decide what to do. a way to tell you without putting his life at risk to your anger.
"well, as much as i hate to say this, you were right," you say, still watching the sunrise in deep thought. harry was shocked by your words, immediately sitting up in his seat to get a better look at your face.
you were stoic, your eyes fixated on the scene out beyond your reach. "what?" harry asked, not believing his own ears. a small smile crept to your lips, the first one he's managed to see himself since you've been here. his heart aches at just the hint of seeing it again.
"don't make me say it again, potter," you try to say threateningly with that small smile, your eyes falling to your lap.
harry is stunned into silence, watching you with careful eyes. "but, you were right. i needed time to be healthy again." you said to him, your back still turned. harry stayed quiet, allowing you to continue. "i was angry with you. i still am. i don't think it'll ever stop," you inform him, the coldness returning to your voice. "but," he was preparing himself for the rejection, the questions, the begging.
"i'd like to stay, if you'll have me," you offer in a slightly embarrassed tone, your face turned the other way.
to say harry was shocked at your request is an understatement. he was expecting you to have a plan to take him out if he had rejected your request to leave yet. he never considered the idea that you might actually want to stay with him.
"i'll have you forever, if you let me," harry responds, a small smile on his face as well. you shoot him a warning look. "not forever. just until i feel well again." you tell him, your voice cold once more. you turn back to the sun, now completely over the horizon. "figured you owe me that much," you say in an accusatory voice.
harry just smirks to himself. you could never be soft for long when he was around. but he appreciated that you felt you could ask him to stay, though you never had to in the first place. harry really would have had you forever, if you'd let him.
"stay as long as you need to." he says.
you glance back at him again, your eyes softer this time. you're analyzing him for a moment before turning to him a bit. "it took me a long time to understand why you sent me to azkaban," you tell him, your voice steady and emotionless. harry just watches you, admiring the light surrounding you.
"you would've never stood a chance in destroying the world had i been free," you state, your eyes still examining him. harry offers you another small smile, but it doesn't reach his eyes the same way. "you knew you were weak," you say.
harry's now analyzing your expression, your words swimming around in his mind. "i did," he admitted to you. "it was just easier if i knew where you were all this time," he says breathlessly.
your eyes narrow at him once more, the anger returning to your body language. "easier for you. i would've never done the same if the roles were reversed." you snapped at him harshly. harry believed you. he thought about it a lot in his nightly battles with his own mind.
"you're right," harry stated, still admiring you in your anger. you were upset, but gave harry a questioning look. your eyes softened only a bit. "i think about it all the time," he admits to you gently.
you're a bit puzzled by his admittance of guilt, but don't let it stop you. "i hope it haunts you at night the way it haunts me," you say sharply, your eyes dark.
"always has," harry says to himself, only making you more angry. "you poor thing. must've been so tough relaxing in this mansion knowing i was rotting away in solitary confinement." your voice is strong, powerful, a contrast to the broken words you gave harry your first day here.
"it was," harry says simply, sensing your rising impatience with him. you stood from your seat, towering over him as he continued watching you in wonder. "you evil little rat. you're just lucky my magic is restricted by this spell. i would've killed you in your sleep that first night." you threaten him, gesturing to the protection spell around the castle and balcony.
harry wants to stop himself, but can't keep the smirk off his face. this only angers you more, pulling your arm back and slapping harry square across his face.
he doesn't react, instead allowing himself to stay facing away from you. "i hate you," you state weakly, your hands balled at your side. harry looks at you, the smirk still playing on his lips. "i know," he says softly.
you frustratedly sit back down, turning to look back at the sunrise once more.
a long silence settles over you two, listening to the sounds of the city as it awakens around you. eventually, you stand, turning to leave harry alone on the balcony. you pause before you leave.
"i still never thanked you, harry." you speak softly, your back turned to him. he looks over at you, your curves glowing in the morning light. "you never had to," he replies, and you're off down the dark hallway.
for the next few months, you and harry live together amicably. he sees you around more often as you start to leave the confines of your room. of course the library was a place of solace for you, but he started to see you more in the living room, on the balcony, or in the dining room enjoying jinx's company. for a while you two exchanged polite greetings, simple glances and acknowledgements, before asking about each other's days, or commenting on the weather. it was agonizingly slow for harry, but he was breaking through your walls one way or another.
one day not long after you'd slapped him on the balcony, you sat in the living room with harry, across from his seat on the couch. he was surprised by your presence, but gave you a small smile over his book anyway. "jinx tells me you've been acting different," you'd stated bluntly, watching his face for a reaction.
harry put down the book he was reading, giving you his attention. "have i?" he asks. you were always examining him, your eyes critical but curious at the same time. "she says your anger used to be terrible. even worse than i remember." you lead him on.
harry bit his lip thinking about the years where his rage was at its worst. he tried not to dwell on them, and instead tried to focus on the newfound emotions consuming his life. but he couldn't deny the path of destruction he'd left while seeing red.
harry eventually nodded, his eyes distant. "it was," he admits, his voice just as lost in thought. you shifted in your seat. "you let it ruin everything, harry." you said softly, leaving him looking at the floor in disappointment. "i know," he admitted.
the silence between you was palpable. harry felt the weight of it on his shoulders before you spoke again. "i would hear about the things you did while in azkaban. the guard would tell me even after i asked him to stop." you inform him. harry can still feel your eyes shooting daggers at him.
"for so long i fantasized about being the one to kill you, to finally put an end to voldemort." you said wistfully. harry glanced at you, seeing a longing look on your face. "how brave of [y/n] to put her love aside to kill the dark lord's apprentice." you said in a mocking tone, leaning back in your seat.
harry watched you, imagining you in azkaban, dreaming of putting an end to his life, while he dreamed of freeing you. it was a fair trade, he thought, and not one he would argue against at this point. and it didn't go unnoticed that you mentioned your love for him, either.
"you still can," harry says, causing you to snap your eyes back at him. "excuse me?" you ask with a sneer. harry puts his book to the side and sits up, his feet planted on the ground. "kill me, that is. it's not impossible." he tells you with intrigue.
you're staring at him incredulously, your eyes always searching him. "you're…you're kidding, right? i mean, you took my magic while yours seems to be highly skilled. you really think i'd stand a chance?" you ask with a sarcastic laugh.
harry stands from his seat, taking achingly slow steps around the coffee table towards you. "yes, while your magic is weak, you are not, [y/n]. i've gone out of my way to keep the knives, fire pokers, swords, and hundreds of books on potions and charms out for your use, at any time, have i not?" harry questions you, getting closer now. though you would normally pull back from him, you stay seated, trying to process his words.
standing just before you, harry admires the curves of your face against the light of the fire. "with your nimble step and cunning wit," harry lifts his hand to gently put his fingers to your chin. the first physical contact he's had with you. unless you count the time you held that knife to his throat. "you could gut me like a pig before i even have the chance to squeal," harry's voice is soft but dark, your breathing caught in your throat at the contact.
as he backed away, harry could see the physical effect he had on you. your nervous blinking, your jaw tightening, hands trembling; he found it sweet he could still do that to you, even if you claimed to hate him.
after that day, harry felt less tension between you two. maybe being vulnerable around you made you realize he was never a threat to begin with. he didn't want anything from you, and he didn't care if you never wanted anything from him. as long as you were safe, that was all he cared about. he hoped you were starting to understand that.
though conversations between you were still tense and cryptic, there was a sense of unspoken comradery that felt nostalgic to you both. your serious, brooding angst matched with harry's calm, collected coldness made for an interesting match. it was never the same as before, you were both fairly aware it wasn't ever going to be, but there was an undoubted chemistry that still lingered from your teenage years together.
however, something else that always lingered during your interactions is your distaste for harry's actions. at any chance you can, you poke and prod at his past, partly to understand, he assumes, but also to test his limits. you were always cautious and suspicious of his submissive behavior when it came to this kind of confrontation; how could someone who was, at least at one point, so evil, so cruel and heartless, become so nonchalant about their past? who wipes out entire cities just to 'not dwell on it'?
this was always a point of contention between you, even if everything else until that point had been somewhat playful. it never so much upset harry as it riled you up, bringing strong emotions to the forefront, causing you to lash out at him. though he always stayed calm, he also always seemed to listen. he never disagreed with your feelings or sentiments, if anything he agreed with your hatred for himself. it's like that day in the living room when he tempted you with his death, and yet you never took the bait.
harry rather enjoyed watching you work yourself up, and admired how quick you were to defend yourself. he never wanted to upset you, of course, but sometimes he couldn't help his cheeky responses knowing it would get a look out of you that made his heart jump. it might not be the most gentlemanly thing he does, but something about your anger excited him. it was nothing like his vengeful rage from the past, but it had its own potency that ran a chill down his spine. harry was so used to everyone cowering away from him in fear of his power that he relished your open aggression towards him. it was thrilling, and it was exactly what he needed.
harry tried to remain respectful of his guest, but having such a beautiful mind and body occupy his space with him was hard to ignore sometimes. his eyes would wander, as well as his thoughts, and he had caught himself fantasizing about you a few too many times to admit. you were stunning, of course, you always had been, but there was something about you now that elevated your beauty in harry's eyes. maybe it was the dark, unforgiving coldness of your eyes, or the strong scowl that your expression rested in, or the underlying anger that was ready to bubble over at any point, but harry was completely infatuated with who you had become.
he knew how hypocritical it was for him to admire the parts of you that were forced out in your desperation to survive the decision he made for you all those years ago. though you seldom mentioned your years in azkaban, harry could see and feel the effects it continued to have on you. they weighed on him heavily, and though harry wasn't one to regret what's happened in the past, he wished he could've figured out another way to protect you at the time. a way that didn't dim the light inside of you the way that it has been.
but still, that light was there. when you smiled to yourself at your own quips, when you admired the food jinx prepares you, when you lost yourself in your books, harry could physically feel the light radiating within you. it was familiar, like an old hug from a friend, and was unmistakably beautiful.
sometimes he felt like a teenager again, discovering the parts of you that made him fall in love in the first place. your natural charm, your captivating eyes, the innate draw he felt to you simply by being in your presence. it was unlike anything he's felt for another person, before or since meeting you. but rather than two teenagers flirting over study dates, you were now two closed off adults with a complicated history and 'break up', if you could even call it that. it was nothing like the past, yet it was entirely too similar.
you and harry had been sitting in silence together in the living room, reading your respective books, enjoying each other's company. it was one of harry's favorite things to do with you now, and one of the only ways you two could be together without it ending in tension. neither of you talked, neither of you made noise outside of the occasional chuckle or gasp at your readings; it was a peaceful excuse for harry to be near you, and sometimes admire you from over the pages.
this night, however, you broke the traditional silence by asking harry a question you'd been keeping to yourself. "harry," you started. he loved the sound of his name in your voice, it was invigorating to listen to.
harry turned his head to you, his book still in his lap, noticing you've long since placed yours on the table beside you. "[y/n]," he responded with his typical smirk, returning his eyes to his book.
you cleared your throat a bit, your ankles crossing in front of you. "how often did you think of me," it was more of a statement than a question, your tone not as cold and questioning as it typically was.
harry knew what you meant, of course, and waited a moment before answering you. "i'd never stopped," he said simply. it was true, and it still is.
you turned to look at the fireplace, your knees bouncing out of the corner of harry's eye as he pretends to continue reading. "but you never came back for me," you stated. harry's eyebrows furrowed, glancing at you again before looking away to leave you with your words. "you left me there to die," you said, that familiar coldness returning to your tone.
harry let out a sharp breath. "that was never my intention, and you know that." he says without a reaction. you become visibly irritated, your jaw clenching with your fists. "you never thought about me," you insisted, your words heavy with contempt.
harry shut his book and threw it beside him, leaning towards you. you turned to glare at him, your nostrils flared. "i was lucky to sleep one full night in the last 5 years without a singular dream of you." he tells you, his voice as steady as his eye contact. "you haunt me like a ghost, [y/n]. you always will."
you're looking at him questionably as you stand from your seat across from him, now making your way towards him. "good. i hope you never forget about what you did to me. i won't." you hiss at him, your cheeks turning red. harry's mind races with you towering over him, leaning back in his seat to fully enjoy the view.
"how could i forget about you?" he quips, that same damn smirk making you grit your teeth. you take another, heavier step towards him, your fists trembling at your sides. "stop fucking doing that," you spit threateningly.
harry cocks his head to the side, looking you up and down. he likes seeing you like this, even if it scares him a bit. "what?" he asks, pushing you even further.
you step between his legs and lean into his face, only leaving a few inches between you. "that, you fucking creep. is this funny to you?" your voice is raised now, the anger finally starting to boil over again. "not at all," harry says, still smirking at your reaction.
"then wipe the smirk off your face and stop doing this to me, harry." you instruct him, leaning back to cross your arms in front of you. harry's biting his lip, not able to resist the lustful thoughts he's having of you in this situation. "doing what, exactly?" he asks, curious what you mean.
"this, all of this, harry. you look at me like a starving animal. you watch me around the house like a stalker. you say you think of me all the time and yet you've only so much as touched my chin." you rattle off, clearly frustrated with these thoughts you've kept inside. "you bring me back here and have me live like a princess when there's people outside who live like animals because of you and what you've done," you continue to raise your voice at him, now getting yourself completely worked up.
harry just watches you, like always, not disagreeing with any of your sentiments. as he normally doesn't, he knows you're a smart girl.
"and you're still fucking looking at me like that," you growl, your arm coming across his neck once more, like the first night you were here, holding him against the cushions of the couch.
harry doesn't stop you, as he never does, and instead enjoys the feeling of you kneeling between his legs in an attempt to further choke him. "i swear on my own life i'll still kill you, potter. what the fuck do you want from me?" you interrogate him, your dark eyes searching him for answers.
the smirk on harry's face only grows, causing you to push further into his throat. it's ironic how much he wants from you right now that would only further put his life at risk in your hands.
"i…never wanted…anything…" harry chokes out. he knows he's stronger than you and could easily escape your grasp, but he enjoys the feeling of letting you have control over the moment, and over him.
"that's a fucking lie," you say through gritted teeth, getting nose to nose with harry. "tell me what you want." you insist.
harry's heart is racing, his mind going blank from the lack of oxygen, and an inconvenient erection growing through his trousers. he could tell you so many things he wants, how many nights he's spent imagining you on top of him like this once again. he knows it would only anger you more, and he was almost tempted by that thought alone.
after a few moments of harry struggling to keep his eyes focused on you, you could feel something against your thigh that caught your attention. glancing down, your weight on harry's throat lessened enough for him to breathe slightly. you looked back up at his eyes with a look of confusion and shock before quickly returning to anger.
"seriously? are you fucking turned on right now as i'm threatening your life?" you ask him with disgust, slightly pulling away. harry's cheeks flush as he tries to catch his breath, your arm still resting across this collarbone. he stays quiet, his eyes glancing between you and his lap.
you scoff at him. "you're so pathetic, potter. how you were ever a leader of anything is a mystery to me." you ridicule him, an amused smirk coming across your own face.
your condescending attitude only fuels harry's excitement more, trying not to let his expression expose how much he's enjoying this.
"it's almost like you want me to kill you," your voice is quiet but dangerously cold, giving harry goosebumps as your breath falls across his blushing face. he tries to stop it but his body can't resist a low whine being forced from his throat.
your eyes fall to his lips for just a moment before you lean into them, surprising harry with a hungry kiss as you relax your weight onto his body. more moans escape harry's mouth as you roughly force your tongue past his lips. his hand naturally finds your waist, but you slap it away harshly with your free hand. "no touching." you warn him, your lips brushing against his.
"yes ma'am," harry responds.
you give him a look, your other leg kneeling beside his as you straddle his thigh, your skirt falling perfectly over his knee. "i still hate you," you growl, choking him against the couch once more. "i know," harry says breathlessly, staring at you like a helpless puppy.
forcing him into a suffocating kiss, you eventually let harry breathe as your lips find his neck, your teeth sinking into his skin and hands grasping his shoulders tightly. he groans at the pain, earning a slight roll of your hips on his leg. harry wants nothing more than to touch you right now, guiding your hips into his body, pleasuring you like he's wanted to for so long. but for now, he's just glad you're kissing him, and enjoys the feeling of your breath against his bruised skin.
"shirt off." you command, sitting back to observe the puddle harry's become in your grasp. he wastes no time taking off his sweater, throwing it behind him as your eyes trace over his scarred torso. your cold gaze softens at the sight, your fingers tracing the healed wounds carefully.
for a moment, when you glance at harry through your eyelashes, he feels that same love you shared as kids. the soft, innocent admiration that came with inexperience. for just one moment, nothing was complicated, and there was no history. you were discovering harry all over again, like he had been with you.
the moment didn't last for long as your gaze hardened once more looking at him. you stood from your straddling position, much to his disappointment. he was ready for you to end the moment and leave, but you didn't.
"on your knees." you instructed him. again, harry wasted no time as he sunk to his knees in front of the couch, eye level with the hem of your skirt. he looked up at you eagerly, hardly believing the privilege he had to see you above him like this.
harry's heart was racing as you lifted your skirt to expose your panties to him. his eyes never left yours, his breathing hitching at the beauty just in front of his face. his hands were patiently folded in his lap, aching to grab every part of you.
you slowly lifted one thigh onto harry's shoulder, reaching down to take the glasses off his face for him, setting them to the side. "now," you told him, your voice seductive as you lean your weight into him once more. harry holds his shoulders steady, his mouth close enough to your soaked pantines to nearly taste you already.
"let me ride your face," you coo, your hands finding their way to his cheeks as he continues staring at you with hungry eyes. "it's the least you can do for me," you smirk, your voice still chillingly cold and cryptic.
harry lets out a sigh of relief and desperation, eyes glancing at your panties before returning to your gaze. you slowly push his open mouth onto you, not able to hold back a sound of relief yourself.
harry's eyes flutter shut as your hips roll onto his face, losing himself in your smell and taste. your fingers tangle into his hair to keep him in place, soft, breathy gasps falling from your lips as you watch from above.
after a minute you become too desperate and pull your panties aside, instructing harry to hold them as you force his mouth onto your dripping pussy. harry listens like a good boy and holds the fabric, his hand also taking the chance to grip your inner thigh. a deep moan escapes your throat at the feeling.
harry's tongue quickly works its way across your arousal, enjoying every part of you as he pushes himself further into your pussy. your hands try to pull his hair back to relieve some of the overwhelming feeling, but harry doesn't let you control him for once. he's desperate to please you, his hunger growing the more of you he's allowed to have.
harry's other hand grabs for your skirt to hold it above his head, opening his eyes to meet your gaze. your face is twisted in pleasure, lips bitten, eyes glazed over as you watch harry disappear between your legs.
harry moans at the sight of you, sending shivers across your skin. you moan, biting your lips closed, your hips stuttering against his mouth. "fuck," you mumble, earning another moan from harry as his tongue circles your sensitive clit.
a hand rushed to your mouth as you attempt to hide your filthy noises, the feeling making your eyes roll back. you're trying to mask your pleasure, but harry can see right through you.
you finally successfully pull his mouth off of you, lips swollen and wet as his head rests in your grip. "good," you say breathlessly. your voice falters a bit. you take your thigh off harry's shoulder, again, much to his disappointment.
"sit," you tell him, gesturing to the couch once more. harry complies, returning to his spot on the couch behind him. you reach forward and unbutton his pants, pulling them down a bit with his assistance. you can see his erection through his briefs, causing you to smirk a bit before returning to your neutral expression.
"no touching," you remind harry as you position yourself to straddle his hips, your arms wrapping around his shoulders. harry's sure you can hear his heartbeat racing under your control.
you start grinding your soaking wet panties against harry's clothed cock, your mouth falling open with his at the sensation. the light of the fire behind you leaves harry with the beautiful sight of you glowing in his lap, your warm skin pressed against his as your breathy moans fall into his neck.
harry can hardly take the teasing any longer, his moans becoming needier the harder he gets under you. "fuck, [y/n]," his voice is deep with desire, his head rolling back once your roll your hips into him harshly. you moan at the sound of your own name, your hands returning to his shoulders as your nails dig deep into his skin.
"that's right, say my name," you smirk, grinding into harry at a faster pace. "so pathetic," you remind him.
harry continuously lets your name fall from his lips as you watch him, a helpless, desperate mess beneath you. he loves the feeling of letting you use him any way you want to.
soon you can't wait much longer, and you pull out harry's cock from his briefs. the feeling of your hand grasping his shift makes harry's hips buck up involuntarily, silently asking for more.
you can't help but chuckle at just how eager he is. you're more than enjoying the control and effect you have over him.
"now," you say again, causing harry to look back at you with needy eyes. "you're gonna let me use you until i cum," you tell him, teasing yourself with the feeling of him against your wet pussy. harry's eyes nearly roll back again as he nods for you, his lips parted with uneven breaths.
you slide harry inside of you, adjusting to the feeling as harry's head falls back once again in pleasure. "so fucking wet," harry sighs softly, nearly whining. once your hips lower completely onto his length, you start to ride harry slowly, still adjusting to him. he's a full blown whining mess beneath you, his chest flushed and heaving as your pussy tightens around him.
you take in the sight of him, your eyes exploring every sweaty part of his body as you continue riding at a slow pace. you unwrap your arms from his shoulders, leaning back into your hips. "take my shirt off," you tell harry.
his eyes open again, looking at you eagerly. his hands nervously begin lifting your shirt, holding the fabric carefully between his fingers, and savors the sight and feeling of pulling it off of you, his eyes glancing at your chest before locking with yours again.
"so beautiful," he tells you, your skin looking deliciously soft in the warm lowlight. "i know, now be quiet," you shut him up, picking up the pace of your hips.
harry's eyes narrow at you, the intoxicating feeling of you wrapped around his cock only making him hungrier for your pleasure. the sight of you bouncing in his lap, your breasts just in front of his face as you lean your hands next to his head on the back of the couch.
"open," you tell harry.
he doesn't have to be told twice before his lips part, his tongue eagerly waiting for you. you guide your nipple into his mouth, your hips rolling onto harry's cock in circles. his teeth and tongue tease the sensitive skin, your pussy gripping harry even more and earning a low growl from his chest. his hands remained at his sides, but he wanted nothing more than to feel you everywhere on top of him.
you start riding harry once more, his teeth still gripping your nipple making you whine at the feeling. "fuck," you let the word slip out, your own teeth sinking into your bottom lip. harry's more than aroused at your reaction to him, his cock aching inside of you to release.
you pull harry's head back by his hair, forcing him to look up at you. you reach for his glasses that you sat down earlier, returning them to his face delicately. harry appreciates the gesture and can better see the pleasure in your eyes, a soft smile falling across his lips.
"so pretty," he whispers. he can see the blush you try to hide, looking away from his eyes and down at your hips.
you start groaning in frustration, your grip on his hair tightening, causing harry to wince. "you're gonna make me cum," you tell him through broken moans, your thrusts becoming uneven. harry can feel you tightening around him again. he groans at the feeling, your name slipping from his mouth again and again. this only makes you fall apart more, high pitched whimpers coming from you as you chase your high.
you soon sink into harry's neck, your cries of pain and pleasure falling across his skin as your legs start to shake. you can't even form words as your body feels the waves of intense pleasure from each thrust onto harry's cock. your hands move to his shoulders again, holding onto him for stability as you continue to ride out your climax.
harry grows impatient at the feeling of your orgasm and watching you break down into him. he finally grabs for you, moving your hips to the couch beside him, staying inside you while you gasp at his movement. he kicks off his pants and adjusts himself between your legs.
"harry," you try to protest, your voice weak and shaky. "just let me do this, darling," he growls, his hips becoming flush against yours as he pushes his cock completely inside of you. you let out a gasp, your hand slapping over your lips once more.
harry hungrily digs his cock deeper inside of you with each slow thrust, his hands holding himself up above you as he watches his cock easily slide in and out of your soaking wet pussy. he folds your legs back as he sinks even deeper into you.
"holy fuck," he groans, his breathing heavy, hands gripping the back of your thighs to keep himself steady. "so beautiful, [y/n]," harry tells you again, his droopy eyes focused on your face twisted in pleasure.
you look at him, your eyes full of lust, but still cold as ice. "i…hate you," you remind him through strained breaths, struggling to take his entire length, still glaring at him.
this pushes harry over the edge, his hips quickening until he feels himself start to unravel. he pulls out of your warm pussy and cums on your stomach, groaning at the sight of you below him.
you gasp at the feeling, looking at harry with shock. "did you just cum from me saying i hate you?" you ask, your tone mocking his desperation. harry nods, still stroking his cock slowly, his other hand remaining on your thigh as his moans quiet down.
"you're disgusting," you tell him coldly, but harry can see the smirk on your face and the lust in your eyes. he watches you below him, smirking in return.
"and you love it."
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Burning like embers (falling tender)
Pairing: Regulus Black • Black!Reader
Summary: Regulus kidnaps the bride. (Wc:5k)
Warning: Dubcon, Kidnapping, Semi Unrequited Love, Attempted Non-Con, Pseudo-incest, Pureblood Politics, Regulus Embracing His Flaws (Yt and British)
Beta: @darksideofthecocoamoon !!! This would've been way worse without her.
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Regulus Black was not a good man.
Good men existed in folk tales, in between the thick yellow pages of his childhood books. Where nobility and honor was permeated in ink and their righteousness was outlined in bold roman font, the letters too tiny for baby regulus to read. It was hard to be a good man, he learned. And by the age of twenty four, he was barely a man at all.
Rather melodramatic. His mother had said.
Mother also said he should feel lucky.
It was luck after all wasn't it? His mother said. A gift to have all of his boyhood crushed out and replaced with a substance that no good man ever possessed. Voldemort knew how to show his favor. He should've been grateful.
And Regulus was. Grateful that is. He was grateful in the way ravens were grateful for a murder, fire to wood and a cowardly man to…well to him. Regulus. Who had no problem bringing all of these things to fruition. Better than him than the others. His colleagues that liked to add to the fire and wood first, turn a flicker flame to a conflagration.
It was good that he had all of that goodness ripped out of him, the remnants stuck between Voldemort's teeth.
Because good men became drunks; drunk on alcohol, indulgent on cheap thrills and even cheaper whores. Complacent. Regulus thought.
Vermin. His father corrected. Dogs that pretended to be wolves before they latched back on their leashes and trotted home; clean shaven and pristine.
Regulus knew good men well afterall.
He's killed many.
A poison there. A dog bone here. Family cemeteries made entirely in his name.
So when he said he wasn't a good man, it wasn't an attempt to be humble or modest or bashful or coy or any other fanciful saying. Regulus Black was not a good person.
The mark proved it.
The murders cemented it.
And your body chained to his bed, screamed it.
Or maybe that was simply a gross overstatement?
The word 'chained' naturally made one think of those muggle devices. A crude contraption with metallic locks and easily hexed metals. (An insult to human ingenuity, really.) No, your chains were of the metaphysical kind: sophisticated, invisible, snug. It was the nicest thing he's ever done for an opposer to his Lord.
Unfortunately, you were not raised by Mother. So you didn’t understand to be grateful. Which was a shame. Even a bird admired their cages eventually. It was the least you could do.
But of course Regulus' life was unfairly hard and his options null. So instead of admiration and dutiful respect, you laid with your back turned and her body curled against the dark corner of your bed. Small and pitiful— a bit wet too.
Funny.
Maybe he should've called you a fish instead. You wouldn't laugh but it would be funny. After all the white gown that clung to your body was completely translucent, the edges covered in soap suds. (Nastily, Regulus Black curled his bruised lips; a caged bird indeed.)
He closed the door behind him.
His own clothes drenched and his fingers bloody with scratches before he dumped the wand in his hand to the ground. It clattered unceremoniously.
"My bird," he began, voice smooth, annoyed.
"I hope you're incredibly happy with yourself," he slipped his loafers off and untwisted his family rings.
"There's a dead wizard at our doorstep because of you," parts of him anyway.
The rest of him was about a few yards out. With chunks of flesh too burned and scarred to be identified as human spewed across the acres of land. (Dog meat, his father would say. Hopefully the animals thought the same.)
The whole ordeal was unnecessarily messy you see? Uncivilized even as he looked at the 'dog' blood splattered against his light robes. Angered, he unbuttoned that too.
"It was an avoidable death, don't you think?"
"A complete waste of my time, even?" He cocked his head, his voice heavy with something that made your back tense.
Yet of course, you refused to turn around, to look back…
A recent nasty habit of yours as he threw his robes on a nearby chair. The excess blood dripping from hand woven cloth onto the concrete floor. A familiar sight.
Slowly, his eyes dragged to the wand on the ground, so small and twiggy. It reminded him of the toy wands he saw poor half-bloods play with when no one was looking. A scrap of trash. No different than what you'd throw for a animal to catch.
Yet, it took death for the wizard to let it go. (A dog and its bone.)
He frowned, then snapped it beneath his heel.
Magic spurted out and when he looked up your head swirled back towards the wall. He frowned again.
"You could at least cry," he said, voice hoarse.
“He died for you after all,”
Besides your frame, a lamp flickered and its shadow danced across your back. He licked his lips, hmm. “They all died for you, actually,”
"Should I tell them to stop?" He murmured. But you only curled further into yourself. Like a victim, like someone that's done nothing wrong. He gritted his teeth. "No that won't work, you'll just keep sending them," Regulus kicked the wand across the room.
"Maybe if he had served his purpose…." The air crackled. “..But alas,” Then he crossed the small room and plopped himself on the bed. His head cushioned against the duvet.
"What did you tell them anyway?" he whispered, before something cracked and your cuffs pulsed. He smiled.
"Did you say you were captured? That I was holding you prisoner? Did you lie, birdy?" He whispered, before slowly you sat up and turned your head. Your pupils were fat, your breath still.
"Shut up,"
"B-" he started before all air left his lungs, your hands wrapped around his throat.
"Tu putain de salope—" your knees dug into his waist. “—just stop talking," Spit flew with each word and it took everything in him not to lick it away. He could only smile and make it worse.
Your eyes widened, a fury of emotion flickering in and out and Regulus only with luck missed the conjured dagger that dug into the place where his head once was.
"Baise gluante-" Then with a flick of his wrist the chains tightened, your positions switched and Regulus was on top once more. His bony fingers pressed into a neck that creaked beneath his weight.
“That was an admirable trick,”
“You almost got me there.” He spoke too soon.
The knife appeared again, this time pressed too close to his third rib. Huh. What was that muggle saying about kicked dogs again?
"Don’t make me repeat myself," You demanded again between clenched teeth and his skin that was beginning to unravel under the metal. Something in him warmed at that. He killed a man like this the day before. But that was more brutal, cruel even. This was not that. This violence was intimate, affectionate.
So much so that the moment you spat your words back at him, this time he did lick it off.
"Sweet," He murmured to himself, like burnt cranberries and raw strawberries, something natural that bursted on his tongue. He licked it again. “A little sour too,” Beneath him you laid frozen, your own eyes widened until your grip on the knife loosened. "Just like me,"
"You're sick," you said it like you were just noticing. "How could you just-"
Quickly, you took a deep breath.
In.
Out.
“I'm nothing like you,"
"Nothing?”
With a grunt you attempted to get up but he kept you down with nails that dug into your wrist. An devilish embrace. "You killed him and you didn't have to, you didn't even need to touch him, you could've let him go, kept him out of it," you insisted, each word said with hard eyes and fat tears on your cheeks. "We're nothing alike,"
Regulus shrugged his shoulders.
"Then leave,"
"…."
Outside your ‘dogs’ flesh had begun to be pecked off by the ravens and the bones by the flies. Inside, you licked your lips but you did not move an inch. “Here, I’ll even help you,” he confessed before with a whispered incantation, your chain vanished. “Go,”
A symphony of emotions flickered across your face. They all burned hot and they all made Regulus shift above your thigh. Before your knife clattered to smoke and your face twisted into something like hatred.
His little bird drew back into her cage.
"Yes," he sighed, his voice not at all shallow and not at all starved for air while he rubbed at the wound that would soon scar by morning,
"That's what I thought,"
—
When he first met you, his first thought was: 'This isn't going to work,' and his second thought was 'She's too good for Sirius,'
In hindsight, both statements were correct.
You were a bold thing really. A beauty covered in rare gems and an aura that spoke of higher breeding. Mother boasted about you highly. The jewel of the west she called you. Someone, born and bred within the confines of a highly respected Afro-Caribbean pure blood family. It was a surprise that Mother even knew you but he guessed that was the point. She wanted someone not as connected in British society after all. Someone who only visited when they had to.
In other words, the likelihood of Sirius already having fucked you was low and the likelihood that you knew him was even lower.
For his mother, ignorance truly was bliss.
If not for Sirius than also for the fact that no non-British family paid attention to Voldemort.
Voldemort's tyranny was simply an English problem. The bloke didn’t seem to care about the muggles from other countries, much less ones from the Caribbeans. Still, people have heard whispers of him. Only a dip in the pond about a crazed muggleborn that had a bone to pick with British society.
Nothing special because in hindsight, who didn't?
So, it was unsurprising that your parents agreed to a marriage of convenience with the one family that was in His pockets. What was surprising was how well you took to it.
According to Sirius, arranged marriages were archaic and boorish. Not because of any logical reasons like loss of autonomy but because ‘Only a pauper let's their parents pick where his cock goes'. Of course he paid Sirius no mind.
Yet, solemnly he wondered if you felt the same. As a boy he would've scoffed at the idea of someone not wanting to marry into the powerful House Of Black but he hasn't been a boy for a long time now. The scales had long fallen from his eyes. In the privacy of his mind, he could not say that it was truly an honor to marry into the Black Family.
Not with the Potters and Misli’s right there. Not with witches like Bellatrix in the family. On the contrary, it's most likely that you were in for a shock. And you'd probably run for the hills while Sirius laughed into his fifth bottle of ale and mother seethed in the shadows.
It was the logical conclusion, he knew it and father knew it. But sometimes wolves liked to just watch their prey die. And who were they to go against Mothers will? Father the patriarch and him the–good son. The dog. So he even prepared for it. What a waste of time that was.
He told Kreacher to prepare for a crying wailing woman. He didn’t prepare for the force that walked through the door instead. It was raining when you visited but you didn't seem to notice. Instead your face was held high as you met mother, your grip firm when you met father and you smiled at him. Very toothy and almost childish but it fit you well.
Father and Mother were nervous that Sirius wouldn't take to you. That they'd have to find another poor woman for their plans but Regulus remembered the sparkle behind his brother's eyes, the twitch of his fingers when you matched fire with oil. You gave him boorish jokes with a classy smile and a mouth no different than a muggle sailor. You were everything dirty about Sirius, wrapped and repackaged into someone pretty, someone that could take it, take him.
Regulus wasn't impressed of course. It took anyone with a halved brain cell to get along with Sirius. You were really no different than James in his mind. Someone that could code switch between two worlds without making either party uncomfortable. A chameleon with nothing inside. It was good that you only had one job really. One simple, impossible to fail job: 'Bring my son back to me,' He heard mother whisper, both of your bodies hidden in the shadows of the back rooms. ‘Bring Sirius back into the fold’
‘Bring him back with a mark,’ She really meant to say and then the conversation was over.
And of course you failed.
____
"Do not touch me with blood still on your hands," you barked as Regulus dipped your head into the water. The soap suds in your head mingling with the crusted blood on his fingers until the water became a dull, faint pink.
He hummed. "You demand a lot of me," but his hands do hover away from your hair and to the lip of the porcelain tub. You'd smell so much better without the after-smell of spilt blood anyway.
Without thinking he rinsed his hands in the water bowl by his side. His pink reflection looking at him before he went back to your puffed- no braided hair. It wasn't like that before. Did you do that while he was upstairs? With your bare hands at that? No, you must've used a spell. Strangled together the few bouts of magic his bindings granted you and did what he offered to do freely. Impressive.
He should take it all apart. 'Just to spite you,' he thought before with a hum he squeezed more shampoo in your hair. Suds dropped to the wooden floor, and seeped between the cracks. The scent of juniper berry erupted in the air. Your hands gripped the lip of the tub tighter.
“Sirius used to wash my hair like this.” you murmured, your teeth dug deep into your lip. “Eventually, he’d join me and we’d stay in the tub for hours,”
He paused, his fingertips wrinkled in your hair before you took a long and hard inhale. In. Out.
“Is that so?” he murmured, something tough in his throat. It was only because of the hand of Merlin that he was able to sound nonchalant.
From his position, he could not see your features. But he could look at the mirror that faced the both of you. It stood at the opposite side of the room; decorated in golds and engraved with faces that he had no interest in knowing. Your own face was the only one that captured his attention. And at this moment, it was closed off. Your lips twisted sardonically and your eyes cut to the side.
“Yes, there was more that was happening of course, but—that would be inappropriate to tell, " you snickered as if you were the leader on all things dealing with propriety. He took a moment and breathed in.
“Was this before or after you betrayed him,” Regulus asked. You went silent.
Coward.
“Or do you even remember,”
“-shut up,”
“Is that a no then?”
"Are you deaf?" you cut your eyes towards the mirror. "I told you to shut up,"
His own lips curled, "You are still wet," The suds in your hair have now dried. Leaving behind dollops of water that now pooled at his feet. The excess had begun to drip to the floor, the rest down your neck, to your back.
"Did that also remind you of your time with Sirius?" Then you shot up, the water falling from your shoulders.
"Do you constantly think about what gets your brother hard?" What a dirty mouth.
His lips twisted. "You should get back in,"
"No,"
"You'll get a cold,"
You rolled your eyes. "Then you shall tell my family I died of hyperthermia, they'll believe that,"
His eyes fell flat but Regulus didn't say a word. Just kept his touch gentle, his movements soft. As if you were a lover, a friend and not—
The knife only nicked his shoulder this time.
"I said-" you shuddered violently,. "-To stop it,"
In the mirror, Regulus watched as you shot him a look. Weeks ago there was a fiery rage in there, dragon eyes in human form. Now it was just tired, bored even. Then you looked back down, silent.
He narrowed his eyes. "Ask me,"
Your grimace only deepened, but now there was humor laced in the edges. "Ask?" your lips twisted into a nasty tired smile;
"Demander?" You giggled. "Did you forget what's in our blood?" You questioned with all that humor quickly gone and replaced with a tone ancient and old.
"We do not ask," you sneered, then rolled your shoulders.
"Even Sirius knew that,"
_____
You didn't even know Sirius.
That was the worst part. You giggled in hidden corners and you kissed his hand to make the elders gasp in horror and Sirius like a fool ate it up and you didn't even know him.
Sometimes,the depths of his brother's stupidity astounded him. Did he really think that a woman like you would just fall in his lap? You were already out of his league. A barmaid would be a better fit.
It was foolish, idiotic, ridiculous but it worked. Because without knowing Sirius was getting closer to taking the mark. He no longer grimaced when Regulus arrived home smelling of iron. Or when he got caught with scratches on his arm and blood on his collar. Mother's plan was working and he only felt pity.
It was one thing to pretend, it was another to have to dumb yourself down for a bonafide pauper. If Mother had picked him, there would be no farce. Not like he wanted that. He didn't want anything.
He was fine with watching from the shadows. His entire presence ignored while you and Sirius pretended you were the only ones in England. It was simply the way things were, he realized with clenched knuckles and a tight smile.
But did it have to be?
__
No, it didn't.
—-
Six months later, Regulus understands why Sirius gets so addicted. A drunk like him, so prone to tasting what was bitter, his tongue rotten with ale. You were an overturn. Something annoyingly new. Regulus had never tasted something so sweet. Poppy pomegranate and sunburst cherries. He swore that he’d get a cavity as he dug his fingers into your hair.
Twisting you into position, tight, proper, the way you gripped the stem of any fruit. Of anything that you wanted to get a better taste of. You were too stunned to fight back then. The bitter after taste of champagne you were prone to drinking sticky on your tongue. Your glass already shattered on the floor.
In the next room, your husband argued with portraits. And when it's done, and when you slap him. Regulus received a thought. An awful hypothesis.
What else could he get away with when enclosed by walls? The rest of the world locked away?
An awful thought indeed.
—--
It's only a week later that it happened. Sirius waking up to an empty bed and Regulus miles away on a mission, in the middle of nowhere, in a quaint little cottage.
It was almost too easy.
—
You didn’t leave of course. Not at first.
Because leaving met acknowledging that you were wrong. That there was nothing to gain at keeping his attention. Leaving meant having to look Sirius in the eye and tell him you lied.
Of course you had questions. Regulus of course didn’t answer.
You didn't need to know how distraught Sirius had become. A pathetic puppy that moped around the manor destroying everything in sight. Regulus didn’t even need to plant ideas in the brutes head. No, all the seeds were already there. Sown in from years of idiocy and your failed meddling.
'It was Dumbledore, I just know.’
‘That stupid old git is trying to punish me,' he whined to Regulus. 'He took her, I know he did Reggie, you need to help me'
'Prongs and-" he'd gnaw at his cracked lips. 'they don't believe me, they think I'm mad, they think I'm—Regulus'
Sirius was mad for you. Unnaturally obsessed. A fool with his alcohol taken away. A dog that's lost his chew toy. He didn't know any better. He couldn't have. But Regulus did, Regulus knew you. He understood your games and twist. Poor Sirius.
If Regulus had to be the bad guy then so be it. He could be the executioner and the judge, he just needed to play his cards right.
Murder would create a martyr but someone missing? Someone that Sirius could say left him high and dry. It was what you were planning to do anyway. And if Regulus quickened the process that didn't make him anymore of a bad person than the murder and countrywide slaughter ever did.
—
You were surprisingly clumsy by your lonesome.
Random scars and cuts littered your body when he wasn’t looking. Ghost of attempts at escape most likely. Which was fine. Regulus could play doctor. Even if it included a bath. A mutual need, probably. The blood on his hands had begun to make his nose burn.
He watched you flinch, took relevance in the way your eyes settled: tired, bitter. It was the same look worn by others. It reminded him of himself, of mother. Abrasive. Challenging him.
After all these weeks, you seemed to still be under the impression that Regulus was anything like Sirius. That they shared the same rotten brain cell that Sirius had split amongst his new brothers, his new family.
He unclenched his fist. Let his anger burn and flick in the atmosphere before with a turn of his head he looked at the hair moisturizer on the counter top.
"Your hairs going to be tangled tomorrow. You should let me rebraid it," You scuffed at that.
"Touch me and you die." You said the same thing to Sirius once. He heard it through the walls during your consummation night. Between the sounds of ruffled sheets and curses. And surprisingly, Sirius listened.
Regulus didn't have the same control. He grabbed for a braid, a knife appeared once again at his rib. He sighed. “You’re being stubborn,”
“I will rebraid my own hair,”
“..With what autonomy?”
You rolled your eyes. "Want to find out?”
He snorted, hands gripping your strands. "Sometimes, it astounds me how well you lie."
"Don't you realize that I already know you're guilty?"
You sighed. Tired, as if this was a conversation you two have had a million times before. It was.
You looked away. "I'm not," he yanked your head. "But you are." Then when with a snap of his wand you were dried and dressed. Your body plopped on your bed without care. He rolled his eyes.
"You fed my brother lies and lured him away f when your job was so simple. to bring him back," Get him to take the mark, be the whisper in his ears, that was what Mother told you. All that deceit just so that the family could have a proper Heir. A better head outside of him the runt and Bellatrix the mad woman.
Regulus pinched the bridge of his nose. “You lured him away and then-” he gripped his fist into the sheets. “-and then you attempted to run with another,”
“You were going to betray him,” it was funny really. Outside of the curses and the hexes and threats that was the one that got you to pay attention. That indifference melting away with ease.
"You are a liar and you should be happy that I even-":
"Look at me?" You rolled your head to the side. "Cause you look at me alot Black, even when you think I'm not looking back," you said this with shadowed eyes and a laziness to your movements. Like you had all the time in the world to revel in the fact that Regulus watched you back. That he wasn’t as suave as he thought you were.
Regulus flickered his eyes down to the crotch of your dress. Theres a wet spot there that never fully dried. Regulus shot to his feet.
"You're angry,"
"Regulus,"
"I get it, truly" he found himself at the edge of your bed. A wand less spell on his lips that warmed the fabric.
"I've been nothing but terrible to you, completely awful. That's no way to treat a sister-in-law, now is it?" he sat at your side, his hands on your thigh. Fabric brushed against your bare skin. Under his words, you shook. "But if you bring up his name again, I'll-"
"What?" You sneered, that hatred bleeding back in. "Let me go?"
"Tell Sirius what I did?" With a blink your eyes began to sheen. "I do not care,"
Then your face twisted. "Not anymore"
He gripped your face, his own features suddenly inhumane. "Your boy toy has made you cocky,"
"Do you think I won't do it? Are you prepared to make that gamble?" There was a frenzied tone to his voice as he said this. For a moment he wondered if it was the weather. An effect of being so sick of your behavior. He must've been worse than he thought but you were looking at him with defiance. He wanted to find control but there was a smolder to your eyes, a spark and suddenly Regulus lost all control. You were serious.
And then you screamed as he gripped your shoulders and shoved you into the mattress. It bounced beneath the weight. "No," he whispered.
Your slip entangled in his fingers. You were slipping between his fingers. The harsh tear of fabric brought him back to the present as the top of your slip laid torn in his hand.
You laughed. It too sounded frayed while your fingers trembled. "No?"
But outside of that you said nothing, just stared at him the way you stared at potion books and Sirius odd muggle gimmicks. Something dangerous, that you were simply waiting to explode and somehow that was worse than screaming. Worse than you cursing at him while his fingers dug into your ripped dress.
"You do not know him,"
But youre stupid so you only grunted back, "Don't I?,"
He laughed "My own brother? You really think you know him better than I?"
"No—"
"No?"
"I don't know what Sirius was like as a child but I do know that the boy you call your brother is dead"
You gripped his arms now, like an anchor. "I know that he only exist in your memories, and I mourn your loss"
"But the man is different and I know him and I know that he would never give into Voldemort—not even for you,"
Don't say his name, rested heavy on his tongue. But he crushed it. In that moment something in him died and something else was born. A substance unknown to good men or even Voldemort.
So, he smiled. Soft hands coming up to pick at the soft white gown. The fabric was practically translucent up close.
"Those are harsh accusations," he plopped on the bed and felt himself jump a bit before his hands relaxed against your knee and then your thigh and then- paused with a look.
Your body trembled beneath his fingers.
"Fratricide, sororicide? You really can't think of anything worse?" He whispered, his words painting a portrait that only you could see.
Still, he watched your eyes widen and felt your breath stutter. A fine drip of water that didn't come from your hair, slid down your forehead. Before a hummingbirds heart fluttered beneath your skin. And all he could do was stare, his hand pressed firmly against your cunts entrance.
"I can.." he said, still covered in blood, still burning with the mark, before his fingers slipped between your thighs. Plushy and warm then suddenly damp, drenching his fingers.
"..I can think of something worse for Sirius to find."
"He'd only have to look at my hands"
You jumped back and thrashed but it was worthless, his fingers were already against your cunt.
The sounds only got louder, your thrashing more manic but the spell he put on your hands and feet kept you plastered to the bed. He grounded into you further, chest against chest before his head nuzzled against your own.
'Frankincense and juniper berry' he thought with a whiff. Like the familiar books he read as a child and the aroma of the Black home after night had fallen. Divine and familiar.
His own little goddess.
The revelation forced him to kiss your cheek. His own lips pressed firmly against your skin. He could taste the shea butter. Could still smell the fruity body wash as your screams turned into whimpers and then morphed into ugly moans. The sounds of pleasure ripped out of you through clenched teeth and bitten lips.
He brought his free hand up, clenched your neck. Felt the arteries jump and your jugular twitch. He killed a man like this earlier today. A long and dirty muggle way of murder.
Still, he took interest in the way the man's eyes slowly turned glossy and the way his hands clenched helplessly at Regulus' clothed arms. As if this would rip him away from Regulus. Force him to not carry out his duty. Beneath him, you did the same. Your soft hands grasping helplessly at his clothes. Pulling him in, pushing him back. Delirious.
"Tu vas le regretter, Black,"
"You gain nothing-"
"C'mon you can beg longer than that, give me a tale for Sirius.” He sneered. “Let me tell him that you put up a fight," he bent down.
"Let me tell him that his wife fought hard for me not to fuck her," you spat on him, he kissed you.
Then you knee him in the face. He jerked back, blood spurted in his hand. He smeared it against your knee.
"You palefaced-" you punched him this time, his teeth rattled. the bed met his back. The force ricocheting till the bed frame cracked and your chains went loose and Regulus was back on you like a feral dog.
You would not leave this place.
But youre quick, a snap of wind that pushes him to his back, elbow in his throat. Above, him you look like a God. Vengeful. And ready to destroy the only person who exists just for you. “You can't stop me, “
And Regulus is weak. A small pathetic thing just like Bellatrix said he was because his eyes burn. The edges wet with admonishment. The edges of his lips quiver. And suddenly all that anger bleeds away. He gripped your wrist. Sharps nail dug into your skin with something worse.
“He doesn't deserve you,” He pierced, throat burning. Above him, your eyes melted. The look indescribable.
“I know.”
“You will get bored of him, and I'll still be here waiting, watching,” he pulled you closer, nose to nose. You filled his vision. “Do you like making me your dog?”
You opened your mouth but no–
He persisted, tears fat. “Can't I just have you,”
“Can't you just want me? Is that too much to ask? Is it too much to want?” Regulus wanted so much already. He rarely ever had it in his grasp. The back of his mind filled with ideologies of freedom, and family and lonely nights in nowhere cities where no one would know his name. All of that was too far away though, intangible. But this–
He crawled into your space, gripped your skin.
–This was so close.
He shuddered. Lips red and his face damp with anticipation. Below him, you looked ethereal. The edges of your eyes burning soft.
“Is this really all you want from me? Sex? After everything?”
No. What Regulus wanted was much darker than that. More debased and immoral and such an awful sticky thing that he could not even admit it to himself. But for now, if that's what you needed to believe. If only a physical communion was what you thought he wanted of you. Then so be it.
He opened his mouth, ready to lie.
Yes.
It's right on his tongue.
Yes. He was not greedy. Yes. He did not want anything more.
Yes. The oath of one easily satisfied.
But nothing came out. His voice stolen as you looked up at him. Eyes wide. All seeing. Knowing of everything.
Regulus shook his head.
“No.” the word bled out in spurts.
Weak. Bellatrix whispered in his ear. So fucking weak. Maybe he was no better than Sirius.
Because you were only going to deny him. You were going to say no. Laughing at his face because that's what people did in the face of fools. Regulus grip loosened. Beneath him you sighed.
“Merde.”
“You're a piece of work, do you understand–” your lips twisted, eyes narrowed. “This is not my home and yet you keep me here, this is not my country and yet you keep me here, don't you think I've given up enough to simply be in your presence? Can't this be enough?”
You say that but Regulus sees the molten desire in your eyes. The way you flickered across his face, unable to stay in one spot but lingering all the same as you crowded in him too.
Suddenly the air was dry. Regulus forgetting how to breath as you leaned back. Exposing your neck, dematerializing the knife.
He gets closer. “Speak plainly.”
You looked away. Outside the dog was barely bones. Rotten in the earth. You seemed to contemplate something, eyes distant before you're brought back to reality.
“...I'll allow it.”
Oh.
‘We’ can have this. Not just him, not just you. This had to be a gift. Before your grip turned tight, your face feral. A certain kind of wildness found only in martyrs and heroes and righteous fools littered your eyes before you smiled, teeth bloody. “Ask any more of me and i'll leave you here,”
“Alone, and then you’ll have to kill me to get me to stay.”
"I will haunt you till you are dust and bones and-" he kissed you, his own blood smeared with yours before he pressed his forehead against your own. "Yes," he whispered, and it couldn't help but notice that it sounded like a prayer. Like holiness,a type of reverence found only at the foot of gods and priest.
He said it again. You froze.
"Just don't go where I can't find you."
He smiled.
Then he kissed you again, on your nose this time, then your eyelids. Then sweetly, softly the space between your lips and your nose. He sighed and then he took you.
He puts his mouth on you. Slipped his head beneath your layers of clothing.
Unbuckled and unzipped and pulled apart each single one before your bareness glistened in his face. Until he could see the disbelief at his urgency flood your features. The confusion at his delicacy. Regulus understood.
There was something horrific but about taking someone's defenses apart with a sensitivity. With the precision of a monster that did not have to rip you to shreds to make you feel fear. And when he got to your core Regulus wasted no time.
....You tasted like pussy.
Musky and sweet, and in your skin he smelt the juniper berry and in your lower hairs drenched with the smell of arousal.
Above him you flinched and you shivered. It reminded him of a siren.
The unseelie ones that would flinch and cry as he electrocuted their water. Taking their oxygen away, fucking up the chemical imbalance, till their nails cracked the glass,
All while his fingers brushed against your own. Your ring finger still entrapped by a silver snake ring. Regulus was not a good man. He was flawed with impatience, entitlement, narcissism, the list went on. But it was his entitlement that got you in his bunker. It was his impatience that made him act, his familial nature that got you here on your back. Body drained and his head placed timidly on your belly.
He listened to your heart beat through skin and bones. Through vertebrae and arteries. Because everything was louder there, your blood even sang for him. A frenzied beat that made your skin hot to the touch.
He collapsed further into you. Nuzzling his nose into the crux of your neck.
An unleashed dog indeed.
.
.
.
.
#regulus black x reader#regulus x reader#harry potter x black reader#regulus black x y/n smut#marauders era smut#regulus black smut#regulus black fic#regulus black x y/n#regulus black x you#regulus black x black reader#regulus black#tw: dark content#marauders x reader#marauders x y/n#tw: dubcon#tw: noncon#killer writings <3
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¡ 18+ only ! ¡ minors do not interact !
content: dubcon, stepbrother!regulus, fem!reader, exhibitionism, unprotected sex, alludes to a noncon gangbang, featuring barty and evan because do what i want
¡ marauders masterlist !
regulus' hand moves from your throat to your chin, shaking your head until you blink, pushing out a clear droplet from the corner of your eye. your mouth is parted and saliva pools within it, threatening to spill before regulus turns your head towards him, placing an open-mouthed kiss on your lips. the kiss is wet and loud, louder than the slapping of skin on skin and the squelching of your cunt as it was filled with your stepbrothers cock.
your chest concaves as he angles his hips just right, sending a shock up your spine and pushing the air from your lungs and into his mouth. his hips stutter but he doesn't stop, holding you up as your knees begin to shake.
"look," he grumbles, using the grip on your chin to make you face the boys in front of you.
the blue eyes of evan rosier stare back at you, even more intimidating with the lust swimming in his irises. his pink lips darken where his teeth gnaw on the flesh.
barty palm himself shamelessly, gripping the bulge that became more and more prominent with every strangled noise that force itself out of you. his own eyes look as crazed as ever, each depraved thought involving you, you are sure of it.
the way they watch you is degrading, gazes drinking you in and hands aching to relieve themselves. you think you even saw barty's hand slide beneath evan's waistband at one point.
but you could hardly focus on the sight in front of you with the waves of pleasure that ripple through your body. regulus' warmth pulses inside you, the throb of his hot cock soothing the jerks of his aggressive ruts.
his face is drenched and burning almost as badly as yours. the grunts and groans hold an undertone that tell you he is enjoying the extra eyes.
"regulus," evan murmurs, posh hand sliding across his own thigh.
regulus' hips stutter at his friends voice, the hand on your throat tightening enough that you dug your nails into the flesh involuntarily. he huffs in your ear, sloppily kissing your cheek as a wordless apology. you turn your head, catching his swollen lips before he can move away.
this wasn't what you had expected. when regulus' voice sung your name, you had rushed over like a loyal puppy, eyes bright and heart thumping. nerves and hesitance lingered behind the excitement as you remembered that his dearest friends were paying him a visit this week. you hadn't liked the way they looked at you as they introduced themselves, suggestive comments leaving their lips that left you thinking they knew a little too much of your relationship with your stepbrother.
you had protested, shoving regulus off as much as you could manage before his lips enveloped yours, ridding you of the thoughts of ever letting him go until he bid you away. your begging whispers in his ear had gone ignored, mumbles telling you to "just ignore them," growing more firm as he thrusted into you.
"mmm," regulus hums, mouth vibrating yours.
"you gonna let us have a go anytime soon?"
#tw stepcest#tw dubcon#tw implied noncon#bUt TheYrE DeAtH EaTerS#okay 🤨#they eat my pussy too so#regulus (belle’s version)#stepbrother!regulus#regulus black x reader#regulus black x you#regulus black x y/n#regulus black smut#dark!regulus black#dark!regulus#dark regulus black#regulus black drabble#yandere regulus black#yandere harry potter#barty crouch jr x reader#evan rosier x reader#dark marauders#marauders era slytherins#marauders era#marauders era smut#hp marauders#harry potter marauders#barty crouch jr#evan rosier#marauders#regulus black
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😰i get my inspo alr
smut and yandere themes under cut.
thinking about stepdad!sirius black when he finds out about your nsfw twitter account. his cock gets hard just by listening to your teary whimpers while you ride on the plastic dildo underneath your stretched cunt. he groans as he palms himself through his trousers.
those videos and pictures are even better than those he clicks when you are asleep, he chuckles to himself, wiping his sweaty brow. with a curse under his breath his hand shakes as he groans when he sees you falling apart on the plastic cock under you. your cum coats the dildo and he imagines how you'd taste on his tongue. he stares at your heaving chest as you gasp for breaths. there's a pink tinge of perhaps shame or lust on your cheeks as your lips spread while you massage your sensitive clit.
his nsfw twitter account just looked like a fan page for you now....
turn this into a series/fic? 😰
#sirius black#sirius black smut#the marauders#sirius x reader#sirius black x reader#harry potter fanfiction#harry potter#marauders#dark sirius black x reader#yandere sirius black#yandere#THE GODDAMN BUTTERFLIES I HAD WHILE WRITING THIS#AJNSHHIUNS#FIC??#step daddy? 💀
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harry would simply refuse to pull out. the first time you said harry didn't need to put a condom on while having sex he was in heaven. you just feel so good around him, so wet and warm, he could stay inside you all day. this is one of the reasons why he wouldn't pull out.
the main reason being though that filling you with his cum gets him hard again almost immediately. he loves watching his cum spill out of your body before he pushes it back in with his fingers, bringing you to another orgasm as he mercilessly plunges his fingers back inside you. he loves knowing that he could knock you up, creating a family with you. he's considered swapping your birth control pills with sugar pills but doesn't want to risk you finding out, he knows eventually it will happen. it will stick. until then every night he'll cum deep inside you.
#harry potter x reader#harry james potter x reader#harry potter#harry james potter#hp x reader#hp x reader blurb#hp x reader smut#harry james potter smut#don’t let the muggles get queue down#harry potter smut#hp headcanon#hp smut#♡ mine / writing#♡ harry#harry potter headcanon#harry james potter x reader smut#harry james potter headcanon#cw : dark#harry potter x reader smut#dark!harry potter#dark!harry#dark harry potter#golden trio x reader#golden era x reader
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