juliet-017

[juliet-017]

Block me if you support any of the above please and thank you!

fuck israel, fuck donald trump, fuck elon musk, fuck ICE and everyone who supports it.

[juliet-017]

Rapacious - T.R. + A.M.

Minors DNI

Tom Riddle x Abraxas Malfoy x Reader

Warnings: Threesome (Tom ‘directs’ it somewhat), Coercion, Anal, Double penetration, Unprotected p in v, creampie, slight impact play, brief degradation, let me know if I missed anything!

Synopsis: After

a/n: Hii!! Sorry for going MIA I've officially started med school and it's.. work! I'll write when able but no promises on dead lines 💔 thank you @nottslove for giving me this idea and @viperify for thirsting over these men with me whilst writing.. it turned out better than I expected.

Part 1!!

wc: 1.9k

To put it lightly, the Slytherin boys' dorm was tense. Abraxas and Arcturus constantly got into fights, which left Tom to subdue them. This constantly destroyed the group's dynamic, cutting short meetings or ruining tasks Tom had requested when the two couldn't get along for more than two minutes.

It started simple, a Hogsmeade trip where Tom had requested to speak to Abraxas alone.

“So you really did it? Stole his girlfriend then?” Tom asks, taking a drag of his cigarette.

“No. Not really.” Abraxas responds smoothly, smug as ever, acting as if Tom couldn't sense the nerves radiating off of him from halfway across England.

“Don't lie to me, you cut our conversation short just to see her. I'd have to be an idiot to think you'd just chat with her."

Abraxas thanked Merlin for the abandoned alleyway by the Hogs Head for once. “What? Jealous?” He hums, an arrogant smirk taking over his face as he swipes the cigarette from Tom to take his own drag.

“I'm not falling fool for another one of your juvenile tricks."

“Just means I'm right.”

“No, it does not.”

“Whatever you say, my lord.” The words sardonic on Abraxas’ tongue.

Silence ensues, Abraxas furrows his brows as he looks back up at Tom. Despising the latter's ability to mask his emotions so easily. “What?”

“Nothing.” He hums, taking the cigarette back and dropping it on the cobblestone ground. “I'm just wondering if shagging a Gryffindor is really worth tearing our group, and possibly our whole message into shambles.”

Abraxas stalls, trying to decipher any possible different meanings. “She knew what to do, I've had worse.” He shrugs. “Probably one of my best, quite a few tricks up her sleeve.” He grins as the memories come back.

Tom pushes off the wall. “Come.” He instructs simply, causing Abraxas to sharply jump and follow him.

“Where are we going?” He asks, despite blindly following Tom.

“Well if two people I trust enough to be in my group have seen the same girl, I have to see what all the fuss is about. She may be valuable, after all, a quarter isn't some minuscule amount.”

Abraxas nods, following Tom throughout the paths of Hogsmead.

**

All you were planning was a simple outing with your mates, buying too many sweets at Honeydukes, perhaps a new book alongside some more school supplies.

Upon leaving Times and Scrolls, arms full from your stops so far in the day, laughing at a joke. The laughter in your group diminished when Abraxas approaches the lot of you.

“May I have a word?” He asks, the words painfully familiar as you nod, departing from your friends and telling them to go to the next shop without you.

He takes your hand, maneuvering you through the bustling crowds to a semi-abandoned pathway. “Coming back for seconds already?” You tease, looking up at him.

“Oh please, like you weren't dreaming of this moment.” He purrs, looking down at you and running his eyes over your figure. “But it's not for me per se.”

“And what's that supposed to mean?”

“Well one of my friends made a proposition, he may have heard how.. open you are.”

You furrow your brows before shaking your head. “What? No, I'm- I'm not open I just..” you stammer over your words trying to form an argument. “And for you to go on and spread what we did? You're vile.”

“I think that our shared time in a professor's office, let alone your head of house’s office, speaks over that, darling.” He argues, causing you to scoff.

“Who is it?”

As if on cue, you watch Tom Riddle simply walk round the corner, as if the two had plotted such a dramatic entrance.

You almost laugh at the absurdity of it all. “You can't be serious? I mean I thought you hated Gryffindors, Riddle.”

“Curiosity killed the cat.” He replies simply, looking down at you with his ever-so-dead eyes.

You hate how you want to cave. “You two are imbeciles, honestly why did I think you actually had something of importance to tell me Malfoy?” You scoff, forcing yourself to turn on your heels to walk away.

You stumble, feeling a sharp pull on your hair, and exclaiming when you're pulled back, your eyes meeting Tom’s.

“So you're going to pass up the opportunity? Don't you see how half the birds in this school drool over me? Not to mention Abraxas.. I think half of them would serve a lifetime sentence in Azkaban to be in your shoes. You're so lucky and you don't even know it.”

You open your mouth to argue, eyes flitting between the two before fixing in. “I- okay yeah.. but we're going back to Hogwarts for this.. right?” You ask, half regretting your choice, your nerves on end.. but Tom’s right. It's a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, even if it's - defiling it'll give you bragging rights.

“Of course, love.” Tom purrs. The two taking your books and bags from you to free up your hands on the journey back.

**

Luckily, nobody interrupted you three on the trek back. And, there were no pesky first years in the Slytherin common room.

It doesn't quite hit you again till you're standing slightly awkward in the corner, the dorm room you recognized from the times Arcturus had snuck you in.

Tom simply shrugs his coat off, hanging it up as Malfoy did the same then helps you with your own.

The, the three of you standing in awkward silence with bated breath.

Abraxas moved first, looking down at you, tilting your chin to force you to make eye contact. “Are you sure you're okay with this?” He asks quietly.

You hum in thought. “I mean.. as long as neither of you go about telling the whole school-”

“We won't.” Tom speaks up from behind you.

You nod. “Okay then.. I suppose so.”

Abraxas grins like a niffler who has just found a room full of gold. “Now let's get a bit more comfortable, shall we?” He asks, picking you up and slinging you over his shoulder. You can barely process before your back hits a bed and Abraxas is on top of you like a starved animal, kissing you ferociously.

He pulls apart, only to messily begin to strip himself, you start to do the same.. not getting very far till you're pinned back down again by the blonde’s weight, his sloppy open-mouthed kisses alongside your neck.

He kisses down your sternum, ridding you of your bra, only stopping right about the band of your panties.

He stops, lifting his head to look over at Tom. “You want a turn?” He asks, eyes lit in amusement and pleasure as you squirm under him.

He shakes his head, dress shirt barely even undone. “No, no.. not yet.” A beat passes before he continues. “I want her to ride you first.”

He chuckles, his gaze flitting between the two of you. “Seriously, Riddle?”

Tom nods. Your nerves only rise, but you swallow thickly, nodding your head. “C’mon Brax, let's just do it, yeah?” You hum, he obliges by helping you get your panties off and quickly stripping his boxers before unexpectedly rolling so you're atop him.

A small squeal escapes you as you come back to your senses, straddling his waist. You adjust, moving backwards slightly only to find him rock hard.

You rock up onto your knees just slightly, holding yourself up as you align his cock, running it through your folds some before sinking down. He reaches out to assist, albeit too late, but it's enough to make adjusting easier.

“Breathe, Ma poupée..” Abraxas hums, letting you relax and adjust to him. He’s bigger than you remember. You attribute it to the position.

His hands on your hips helping guide you, your hands taking purchase on his chest as you ride him, small moans already escaping you as you tilt your head back in pleasure.

Abraxas mutters out a few curses, groaning as his own eyes flutter shut. You almost forget that Tom is even there, too lost in the movements and ecstasy.. till you hear a gagging noise.

Your eyes flit open to find Abraxas sucking Tom off, heat starting to grow inyour stomach at the sight.

As if he has a sixth sense for it, Tom's gaze finds yours, smirking as he guides Abraxas’ head, his fingers intertwined in the frosty locks. “What.. are you jealous? Don't worry, you'll get your turn soon enough.” Tom chides, clicking his tongue.

A pathetic whine escapes you as you continue to sloppily ride Abraxas, your legs already getting tired as he ruts up into you on occasion, only causing you to moan louder.

You slouch slightly, just in time. Tom grasps your hair, freeing himself from Abraxas’ mouth and bringing his tip to your lips, prompting you to open.

You comply, taking his length in your mouth. You can taste the cum on his tip.. Merlin, he must've been quiet. In no time, you feel him thrust deep, hitting the back of your throat as Abraxas returns his full attention to guiding your hips and fondling your breasts where he can.

The heat in your abdomen still grows at a steady pace, building and multiplying as Tom’s thrusts become a bit sloppier, pulling your face flush against his abdomen before releasing deep into your throat. You swallow after he pulls out, moving to clean him up, but he moves too quickly, bringing your face back up to Abraxas’.

Too fucked out to think properly, you bring your lips to his. The kiss distracts you from where Tom has moved to, barely registering the wetness of saliva at your hole, a light movement over it as if testing the waters.

You barely have the time to look over your shoulder to see what's happening till you feel twice as full, your chest falling a bit more flush against Abraxas’ as you feel Tom slowly begin to move, taking over your hips and moving you so you move equally on their cocks. “Such a slut, taking us both so well,” Tom grunts from behind you.

Abraxas now uses his free hands to play with your tits, eventually slipping one down to toy with your clit. “Fuck your clenching around me so tight.” He groans, tilting his head back as he floats in the feeling.

You only whine in response, too fucked out to even think. A sharp slap on your arse causes you to clench from a mix of surprise and arousal.

You can only focus on your pleasure anymore, the heat only growing as you feel Tom and Abraxas’ cocks moving at a similar pace, rubbing together save for the thin muscles separating the two.

Their words run together as you feel yourself come up on a teetering edge, barely any wait before you tumble over, cumming louder than you ever remember.

Your body relaxes, allowing the two to fuck you through your high, along with reaching their own. Tom simply casts a charm or two to clean the three of you up, the room thick with sweat and sex as labored breathing fills the air.

It takes a while for you to even be able to register what happened, or be able to push yourself up and glance around the room.. only to realize this angle of it looks familiar.

“Is this Arcturus’ bed…?” You ask slowly, as if to make sure you haven't gone mental.

It's only when Abraxas grins that you know for sure. “Had to get back at the prat one last time somehow.”

[juliet-017]

hi cutie just dropping in to say ilyyy !!!

Hi lovely !! Thank you thank you :>> I love u too 🫶🏻

[juliet-017]

TAYLOR GOT HER MASTERS BACK IM FREKAING OUT

Also hi! Sorry for being mia I'm officially in med school and this is killing me but OH MY GOD

[juliet-017]

I don't know how I missed this post but CONGRATULATIONS MARLS LOVE YOU DESERVE THIS SO SO MUCH AHH

When I first started writing, I never imagined there would be a day where over 1.000 people would want to keep up with my work. Like, I remember having two or three ideas which I ended up writing and posting. Then, getting my first sweet comments, requests and obviously becoming friends with people who share the same interests as me have made the past seven months here on Tumblr even more special. Everyone has been so so supportive, always. People have been nothing but sweet to me, and I really don’t take this for granted—especially with all the negativity lately.

Thank you to everyone who’s stuck around, read my works, and even became friends with me. I love every single one of you so much. <3

1k celebration coming on Friday, I am super excited to show yall what I have come up with!! :3

[juliet-017]

the debut theme EATS so hard

AHHH thank you lovely mwahhhh

[juliet-017]

theme theme themeeeeeee

Yesyyes!! Thank you Soph bb!! Mwah mwah mwwwwah

[juliet-017]

aaahhhhh the new theme 😍😍😍!

Eeeee thank you Ari!!! Ily 😽😽🫶🏻

[juliet-017]

MMMM new theme so prettyyyyy omg🥹💖

wanna eat it

EEEEE thank you lovely mwah mwah mwah

only if I can eat u

[juliet-017]

I so badly want to go back to my folklore theme.. guys do I do it? I kinda miss her :(

Edit: I might actually do debut next, esp if this gets voted no

[juliet-017]

me n u when???

Right now 🙏🏻🙏🏻 come over bb

[juliet-017]

OMG This was so manacled coded it killed I need to marry you rn Marls and if yall don't already follow her pls do RNNNN

“I hate you,” he whispered, and then, just a second later—his lips crashed on yours. And it was even better than what you had imagined all these nights in the library—how your lips moved in sync with his, how eager he was to feel more of you, hands slipping under your blouse, leaving goosebumps in their wake. How you leaned into his touch as though this wasn’t the son of the most feared wizard of Great Britain, probably the entire world.

Mmm this was js hot and cutsie idk I love hate fucks

“I hate you too.” You replied, a grin tugging at the corner of your lips.

Hehe this was so cute and silly he can throat fuck me until i can't talk

How, in free periods, he’d always come to find you. Push you into the nearest classroom, lock the door behind you. Lips on yours before you could even complain. Ripping your blouse open because he was too damn impatient to unbutton it—and you’d scold him for it every single time—and he would just do it again next time.

YESYESYES I NEEEEED 💳💥💳💥 please me next

“There is a simple spell to repair it. There is no spell to spend more time making you feel good, sweetheart.”

Mmm I love it when he's cocky

Tom was always careful with you.

Except if you outscored him on an exam. Then, he wasn’t as careful.

You didn’t mind that, though.

Rough sex for outscoring him while he praises you're beautiful brain

Okay time jump

“Fucking hell.” He mutters under his breath and doesn’t waste another second thinking. He draws his wand and turns around. Spells fly in all directions, and you duck—the room lighting up in green, red, buzzing with electricity.

YESYESYES I'd suck him right then and there

He finally looks at you. Not like he did back at Hogwarts. He looks different now. Sharper features, older, more mature, with a scar right above his left eyebrow. You want to ask what happened, want to trace it with your finger, want to kiss it.

:(( angst

“You told me you wouldn’t take any unnecessary risks. That you would be careful.” He raises his voice, and it almost breaks. “Merlin, you fucking promised me.”

THIS IS KILLING ME MARLS OMG

“They took you from me. They let you get these ingredients when they knew how dangerous it was. You almost died at my hands. Because of them. You left me for them. I offered you a safe house, far away from here. Yet, they convinced you to stay. If you believe even for a second that I would shy away from killing them— think again.”

YESSSSSS I love this sm the whole "I'd burn the world down for you" AUGH

Old habits.

DIE SCREAMINGGGGGG 💔(I'm sorry I had to)

“No. You don’t get to run from me anymore. You’ll stay right here and take it. Take it like the good girl I know you are.”

It's all over the screen omgomgomg

“Am I hurting you?” he asks, concern visible in his eyes as they search yours. “I am sorry. I shouldn’t have— I will stop.”

You hold onto his arm when he begins to pull away, shaking your head no.

“No. Please don’t. Please don’t stop.” You plead as his eyes scan your face. “Just don’t— I haven’t— you know.”

AHHHHH I can't do anything but scream and kick my feet and giggle

“Come for me, pretty girl. Let it all out.” He tells you, and that’s all it takes to push you over the edge. You whimper-moan as the knot in your lower abdomen snaps, eyes rolling to the back of your head as your walls pulse, clamping down tight, drawing a low groan from him.

"Pretty girl"... :floor_please:

“Fuck— so long— been waiting so long for this— “ he drawls, and with one more rough thrust, he spills inside of you—deep, painting your walls white with his release.

MMMMMMM

“Cruciatus Curse? Have treated many people with the same symptoms.” You say softly, thumb easing along his index finger.

:(( more angst? Rlly Marls? Going to have to divorce you /silly

“I promise.”

Crying good tears now omgggg

oneshots | ᴀꜱꜱᴀꜱꜱɪɴ!ᴛᴏᴍ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

⚔︎ You Promised.

Short Summary: he is ruthless when he kills, doesn’t show an ounce of mercy. Cold and quick with it—if you are lucky. Because for most captured Order members, he likes to drag it out. Not because they are the only remaining resistance against his father. He’s stopped caring about that a long time ago. No. They took something from him. The only person he has truly ever cared about. You.

Warnings: 18+ only! mentions of death, violence, murder. Tom is Voldemort’s son. dub con if you squint? brief rough sex, praise, unprotected piv, creampie

A/N: I think I bent the meaning of assassin a tiny bit. Anyway, this is my participation for week three of @acourtofchaos’ Festival of AUs!

wordcount: 3,1k

You were aware going out to hunt that one rare potion ingredient that night was a mistake. Yes, it was only available during full moons and then only for two to three hours—but you knew for a fact that you wouldn’t be the only one looking for it. And running into Snatchers really wasn’t something you wanted to risk.

But when Harry himself came asking whether you could look for them that night, you knew how urgent it was. The Order was so close to running out of healing potions, and if you denied—

You sighed and agreed.

Later that night, you and three others made your way to the Forbidden Forest, the only place nearby where you could find the rare flowers you were looking for. Not too deep into the forest, you find what you were looking for—blooming in bright purple, surrounded by fireflies. The forest was eerily quiet at that time, except for the crunch of branches each time you took a step and the occasional screeches of birds nearby. Though, when you heard the distinctive sound of apparition somewhere not too far away, you stilled, froze. You tried to convince the others to leave, as you’d surely have enough for the month to come—yet nobody wanted to listen, there were more—just a few more—just a little further into the forest—

Until you were surrounded by the very people you warned them about before you left.

Outnumbered by at least five.

There was nothing you could do—your wand was taken faster than you could react. And without a wand—you were helpless.

—

Hours later, and you all find yourselves lined up in a basement—knees scraping against the cold, rough ground beneath you. Hands tied behind your back, scratchy cotton material secured over your head, blocking your vision.

This is it. You are going to die today.

Back when rumours spread that most killings are done by one single person, you didn’t believe them. Surely no human could muster up the strength to kill day in, day out.

Right?

Except—

No.

Tom wouldn’t.

Couldn’t have—

However, the longer you are left waiting, the more time you have to think about it all—you haven’t seen him since you left Hogwarts, since the war started. It’s been more than a year, and a lot has happened since. A lot has changed. He might have changed.

Then, your thoughts slip to just Tom.

How people, including yourself, would be afraid to even look at him—Voldemort’s son.

How he’d always be top of the class—except for that one time you were.

And the next time too.

How it would turn into a rivalry, a bitter fight over who would score higher on the next exam.

How most of your nights were spent in the library from that point on.

Tom would be there too. Never leave before you did.

How he would steal glances at you from the other side of the library.

How glances would turn into stares, stares that you noticed, that made your cheeks grow hot, that made you question whether you actually hated him as much as you told yourself you did.

And how that hatred turned into something completely different when you outscored him on a Defence Against the Dark Arts paper. His subject. The one nobody had ever even come close to him. When you smirked at him as soon as you realised, and he had this unreadable expression etched on his face.

How, as soon as that class ended and everyone had left, he pushed you against the cold stone wall of the corridor. Accused you of cheating. Accused you of Merlin knows what.

“I hate you,” he whispered, and then, just a second later—his lips crashed on yours. And it was even better than what you had imagined all these nights in the library—how your lips moved in sync with his, how eager he was to feel more of you, hands slipping under your blouse, leaving goosebumps in their wake. How you leaned into his touch as though this wasn’t the son of the most feared wizard of Great Britain, probably the entire world.

Fuck, you wanted this more than anything else.

And when you broke apart—both of you gasping for air—he would breathe a soft “Merlin, I hate you so much.”

“I hate you too.” You replied, a grin tugging at the corner of your lips.

And you’d kiss again.

How from that point on, you’d study together. You were just trying to help each other—that’s what you told anyone asking. Tom would always tell you how nobody could know.

Students started giving you strange looks. Because how could you possibly spend time with someone who seemed to care about no one and nothing except himself and his studies?

They didn’t know. It was better that way, you told yourself.

How, in free periods, he’d always come to find you. Push you into the nearest classroom, lock the door behind you. Lips on yours before you could even complain. Ripping your blouse open because he was too damn impatient to unbutton it—and you’d scold him for it every single time—and he would just do it again next time.

“There is a simple spell to repair it. There is no spell to spend more time making you feel good, sweetheart.”

And with his lips trailing kisses down your neck, sucking marks into your skin, right at the spot he knew would have your knees grow weak—any rational thought left your brain in an instant.

He’d kiss down the valley between your breasts, fingers slowly making their way underneath the lace of your panties, preparing you for him.

He treated you like you were made of glass—which even surprised you sometimes. The quiet, nerdy boy who’d have witty answers to all questions. Who’d only have to look in the direction of students nearby to silence them, make them leave.

Tom was always careful with you.

Except if you outscored him on an exam. Then, he wasn’t as careful.

You didn’t mind that, though.

It all had to stay a secret, he liked to remind you of it. That nobody could know, not even your best friend, who would pester you with questions if you came back past curfew from one of your “study sessions”. You couldn’t tell her. Nobody. Not even your parents, who didn’t know anything about the wizarding world. You wondered if it was because of that. Judging by the way the corner of his mouth twitched whenever you mentioned your muggle parents, you had your answer.

Your love was forbidden—but so, so delicious.

—

You hear the door to the basement creak open, and what you guess to be five Death Eaters approach you with heavy footsteps.

You don’t know if you are lucky or unlucky when they pass you, instead start on the other side of the line.

Make you witness the death of some of your closest friends.

Their blood-curdling screams and unheard pleas as they are left bleeding to death on the cold, wet stone floor.

Because—whoever does the killings—and you are pretty certain it is only one of them—doesn’t use their wand, but a knife.

Too many killing curses are known to have long-term effects, after all.

But with each victim more—you feel as though they do it with pleasure.

And Merlin, you weren’t ready to die that way.

You don’t have much time left to think about it before a firm hand tugs at the material over your head, tilting your head backwards.

“Last one.” An unfamiliar voice remarks somewhere to the left of you, and not even a second later, you feel the cold, unyielding metal of a knife press against your throat.

You don’t want to give whoever it is the satisfaction of any reaction—but when the sharp blade scrapes against your skin, drawing the first drops of blood—you can’t help the soft, pained whimper escaping your lips.

As if stunned, the hand holding the knife stills, and they let go of your head.

Instead, the material covering your face is cut, and you blink a few times as your eyes adjust to the different lighting—and when they focus, your heart skips a beat.

You are met with a pair of dark brown eyes you would recognize under thousands of others—his.

Tom’s.

“Fucking hell.” He mutters under his breath and doesn’t waste another second thinking. He draws his wand and turns around. Spells fly in all directions, and you duck—the room lighting up in green, red, buzzing with electricity.

Then—silence.

For just a moment.

He takes your hand in his, and the next second you apparate away, finding yourself in a small, cozy place hidden somewhere in the woods. The wound on your skin burns, but he doesn’t let you touch it.

“Let me do this.” He insists, and with just two or three spells muttered, it stops bleeding and the pain fades.

You study him for a moment. It’s really him.

“Tom.” You whisper. Silent, careful.

He finally looks at you. Not like he did back at Hogwarts. He looks different now. Sharper features, older, more mature, with a scar right above his left eyebrow. You want to ask what happened, want to trace it with your finger, want to kiss it.

Kiss him.

His eyes are cloudy now, and he’s lost the spark he used to have whenever it was just you two. And—he has become what he promised you he wouldn’t.

Just like his father.

Maybe they were right, after all.

His grip on your shoulder tightens, and you wince softly as the rough wood bites into your back.

“You told me you wouldn’t take any unnecessary risks. That you would be careful.” He raises his voice, and it almost breaks. “Merlin, you fucking promised me.”

He sounds more disappointed than angry when he says it.

He’s right. You did promise him. Right before the war, you promised each other two things. One, you’d be careful, wouldn’t take any risky tasks, would do anything to stay alive. Two, he would come back for you. Would find you after the war. Although he was aware that the chance of both of you surviving was rather slim.

You shake your head softly.

“It was always supposed to be like this, Tom. Us. Enemies. We fight for two very different things.”

He scoffs softly at that.

“You think I still care about any of this? He’s ill. He’s dying. Barely gets up nowadays.” Tom takes a step back, and you swallow. “He has been using me for— this for months. And if you think—“ his hands clench into fists as the muscles in his fingers twitch at the mere thought, and he pauses briefly. “If you think I get any better treatment than others when they don’t act according to his instructions, you are mistaken.”

You sob.

“You killed them. All of them.”

He takes your face into his hands.

“They took you from me. They let you get these ingredients when they knew how dangerous it was. You almost died at my hands. Because of them. You left me for them. I offered you a safe house, far away from here. Yet, they convinced you to stay. If you believe even for a second that I would shy away from killing them— think again.”

Tears are streaming down your face by the time he is done.

“I chose this, Tom. Nobody forced me.” You hiccup. “This was my choice, and my choice alone.”

One of his hands slips to your neck. They are cold. Not warm like they used to be when they roamed over your bare skin. You miss the warmth.

He pulls you closer again, eyes narrowing at your words.

“And fuck— a part of me wants to hurt you for this. Punish you. But I— I can’t.”

His gaze drops for a second, and his voice softens.

“I missed you. I thought of you every day, wondered whether you were doing alright. Wondered whether you were thinking of me too.”

You exhale a shaky breath, trying to find the right words. Of course you did too.

“Tom, I—“

The corner of his mouth twitches.

“You have moved on, haven’t you? Found someone else.”

Your heart aches at his words.

“No!” You gasp, shaking your head. “I didn’t. I wouldn’t—“

Then, without letting you finish your sentence, he pulls you closer to kiss you. Soft at first—giving you space to draw back—but when you don’t, he holds you close, kisses you like it’s the first time all over again.

When you separate, there is this all-too-familiar fire behind his eyes—the one he used to have. And as much as you wanted to—

“We have a lot to talk about.” You try, but he merely shakes his head.

“That can wait. Let us have this.”

Before you get to object, his lips are on yours once more, and he guides you towards the bed in the centre of the room without once breaking the kiss.

Shirt torn open, button of your pants clinking as it drops to the floor.

Old habits.

“I hate you,” you murmur against his lips, and his mouth lifts into a smirk. “I hate you so much.”

It all happens quickly after that. Moments later, you are on the bed and he’s on top of you, trailing kisses down your neck—just like he used to do.

Then, you feel him pressing against you—already hard, tip swollen and leaking. You gasp when he swipes through your folds and instinctively squirm at the contact—but Tom is quick to reposition you, pinning your hands above your head with ease.

“No. You don’t get to run from me anymore. You’ll stay right here and take it. Take it like the good girl I know you are.”

He doesn’t wait much longer. He’s been waiting too long for this, and now that he’s finally got you back—he is going to utilize every single second he would get to spend with you before he’d have to leave again.

He pushes inside with one singular thrust. Doesn’t give you time to adjust.

And God—it’s been a while. You forgot how big he is—the burn of the stretch so overwhelming that your nails dig into his back and your breath catches in your throat.

He doesn’t feel you tensing beneath him. Doesn’t spot the strained look on your face. Instead, he has already set a rhythm. Hips slamming against yours so harshly, the headboard hits the wall with each thrust.

You don’t want him to stop. You really don’t. But when he shifts his angle to reach even deeper—a strained whimper slips from your lips, and you squeeze your eyes shut.

The moment Tom hears the soft sound spilling over your lips, he lifts his head and stills inside of you.

“Am I hurting you?” he asks, concern visible in his eyes as they search yours. “I am sorry. I shouldn’t have— I will stop.”

You hold onto his arm when he begins to pull away, shaking your head no.

“No. Please don’t. Please don’t stop.” You plead as his eyes scan your face. “Just don’t— I haven’t— you know.”

Tom gives you a tight nod, taking it slower with you after that. Carefully giving you inch after inch, kissing along your jaw. Praising you for how well you are doing for him.

“Forgot how amazing you feel wrapped around me like this,” he mutters, pressing a kiss to your shoulder as his hips stay flush against yours for a second—before he continues his slow and steady thrusts.

His hand slips between the both of you when he feels your walls flutter around him, rubbing your clit in tight circles—just how he knows you like it.

“Tom— Tom, please—“ you moan against his lips, and he rests your legs on his shoulders, allowing him deeper, brushing against that one sweet spot that has you see stars with every single thrust of his hips.

“Come for me, pretty girl. Let it all out.” He tells you, and that’s all it takes to push you over the edge. You whimper-moan as the knot in your lower abdomen snaps, eyes rolling to the back of your head as your walls pulse, clamping down tight, drawing a low groan from him.

He helps you through it, prolongs your pleasure for as long as possible—then, gently, shifts your legs to either side of him, allowing him to lean in close once more. And when he’s close, cock twitching inside of you—

“Where— where can I—“ he rasps, hot breath against your neck, and your legs lock around his waist, keeping him pressed against you.

“Inside. Inside, please.”

“Fuck— so long— been waiting so long for this— “ he drawls, and with one more rough thrust, he spills inside of you—deep, painting your walls white with his release.

His body rests on top of yours after, catching his breath. None of you talk, not until he rolls off to lie beside you, and he takes your hand in his.

You look at him when you feel the muscles in his fingers spasm.

“Cruciatus Curse? Have treated many people with the same symptoms.” You say softly, thumb easing along his index finger.

“I told you. It doesn’t matter to him.” He retorts, voice calm as though it were the most normal thing in the world.

“Oh, Tom. I am so sorry.” You whisper, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. You rest your head on his chest, feeling his heartbeat beneath you—eyelids slowly fluttering closed as his fingers brush through your hair.

It’s not long until he wakes you, though.

“I am being called,” he tells you, sitting up after placing your head on the pillow next to you, and your gaze drops to the mark on his arm. “Means they found the bodies.”

You too sit up, taking his wrist in your hand as you look up at him. “Please don’t go. I don’t want them to hurt you because of me.”

“If I don’t, they’ll be here within the next five minutes. Neither you nor I would want that. You will stay here.”

Your hand grips his tighter.

“You’ll be back?”

He gives you a nod. “Yes.”

“Promise?”

He smiles softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“I promise.”

thank you for reading! feel free to reblog and leave feedback <3 — masterlist. | oneshots.

©2025 viperify. please do not copy, translate or claim my work as your own.

[juliet-017]

OH MY GOD MARLSSSSSSS !!!!! I saw the slight misogyny and KNEW the would be soso good

Still very visible, and not something you could cover up—no matter what you tried, nothing worked. They’d always shine through, even if you put five layers of makeup.

The marking kink in me loves this soso much

As you do, a flash of red in the distance. So small, you barely even register it.

Oh hell yeah

You shriek awake, drenched in sweat. Looking around you, you are met with nothing except for darkness and silence.

Implied somno my love

There are massive bags under your eyes, cheeks sunken in, eyes glassy. You look horrible—so sick you have no business going outside, let alone working.

I shouldnt find this hot but js the idea of him lwky do tiling you by doing this..

“I knew you would come if I called for you.” He drawls, stalking towards you.

You scoff. “Did I have a choice?”

A grin tugs at the corner of his lips. “Of course not.”

It's all over the screen omgomgomg

Tom has done research in the meantime. Gone to several healers he knew he could trust—mostly those closely related to the Malfoys and Rosiers—where he assumed the secret of his return would be safe.

Okay I'm this isnt supposed to be suggestive at all but I need an orgy with them rn.

His death broke the curse of the Love Potion his mother had used to seduce his father. And suddenly, when he chose to return as a vampire, all these pent-up feelings he was never able to experience broke free.

🤨😈

So it has turned into obsession instead.

It's so wet omggg

“One day, I am going to turn you,” he murmurs. “Make you mine, forever.”

PLEASE DO PLEASEEEE

AU | ᴅᴀʀᴋ ᴠᴀᴍᴘɪʀᴇ!ᴛᴏᴍ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

₊˚.☾⋆ Mine, forever.

Short Summary: Strange dreams and memories plague your sleep. You would do nothing rather than to forget about everything that has happened—but Tom has other plans for your shared future.

Warnings: obsessive!Tom, biting, blood drinking, Tom doesn’t know what to make of his feelings, slight misogyny, kidnapping I suppose? Also manipulation through the effect of a vampire’s bite.

A/N: This is my participation for week 2 of @acourtofchaos’ Festival of AUs! Just had to take part with my beloved vampire Tommy. <3 — Repost bc I had to make some slight adjustments. Sorry!!

wordcount: 2,5k

also, this is part two of In His Fangs!

Bruised.

Marked.

Branded.

That’s how you left the forest that night.

But not only that.

Tom Riddle was alive—and it would be a burden for you to carry alone.

—

You expect him to come back—almost wait for it. The first few nights, you don’t get to rest. Tossing and turning, trying methods from old books in your attic. It’s all no help. The memory of him, his scarlet eyes, his sharp fangs dragging over your neck, cold hands roaming over your bare skin—keeps you wide awake for most of the night.

Days and weeks pass. Still, no sign of him. People have stopped talking about Voldemort’s return. Just a rumour. Nonsense someone made up back when all these dead sheep were found.

Just rumours, you repeat to yourself, shaking your head slightly. Right.

That evening, after your shower, you take a look in the mirror, eyes drifting to the letters he’s carved just below your collarbone. They have reduced to scars, small imperfections on your skin. Still very visible, and not something you could cover up—no matter what you tried, nothing worked. They’d always shine through, even if you put five layers of makeup.

You have decided to stick to high-neck shirts from now on.

However, today, when you reach to trace them with your finger, you feel a slight burn—not much, barely there—yet, your hand jerks back at the sensation.

It’s almost been four weeks since you last saw him—which means the next full moon should be right around the corner.

You swallow hard at the realisation.

That same night, when you close the curtains to your bedroom window, you take a look at the moon. It’s an almost perfect circle, shining brighter than usual. So bright, you pull the curtains shut, as to protect yourself from it.

As you do, a flash of red in the distance. So small, you barely even register it.

You look again.

Nothing.

You are tired, drained. Sleep catches up faster than you’d want it to, and mere minutes later you are asleep. One of the deepest sleeps you have had in a while.

For a reason.

You don’t often dream, certainly not lately, as you have hardly slept anyway. Though today, you can’t seem to catch a break. Dreams of your years at Hogwarts, of classes and free periods, of your late-night study sessions in the library. They all have something in common—such a small detail, it’s easily missed if not pointed out.

Tom is in every little scene. Sometimes staring at you from across the courtyard, other times reading a book in the library, just an aisle further.

You never noticed, but now it seems so straightforward.

The quiet, nerdy boy with no family to go home to during holidays, the young, handsome prefect with the prettiest eyes and softest hair had been observing you back in school.

As soon as you connect the dots, still half asleep, these little memories fade into a blur—and the scenery changes.

Darkness.

Creaking wood.

The soft, vanilla scent of lit candles.

Freezing cold hands roaming over your exposed skin—having you shiver.

A sudden, sharp pain on your neck—

You shriek awake, drenched in sweat. Looking around you, you are met with nothing except for darkness and silence.

Just a dream.

He won’t come back.

Never.

Right?

Though you have slept for at least eight hours that night, you feel more exhausted than before you went to bed when you wake up in the morning.

Getting out of bed is hard, your neck stiff and sore. But work is waiting, and these days you can’t allow yourself to call in sick. They’ll replace you on the spot if you even only attempt to. You sigh. It’s messed up, but that’s how it is. And you need this job and the money if you don’t want to end up without a roof over your head—urgently.

You carry yourself over to your bathroom, applying toothpaste to your toothbrush before you start cleaning in circular motions. When you look up at your reflection in the mirror, you gasp—toothbrush falling into the marble sink.

There are massive bags under your eyes, cheeks sunken in, eyes glassy. You look horrible—so sick you have no business going outside, let alone working.

But weirdly enough, you don’t feel how you look.

You are just fine—yes, your neck could be better, and you are just a tiny bit dizzy—but that could as well be the result of your recent sleep deprivation—or the fact you are constantly worrying about everything.

Heading to your workplace, you notice people staring, whispering to each other as you pass. You try to ignore them as best as you can, releasing a deep sigh as soon as the entrance door to the little coffee shop you work at closes behind you, the one just around the corner from the Three Broomsticks with barely any customers.

You prepare for your shift, and as expected, it’s slow. Barely served two customers before lunch. Just as you are about to close the shop for break, a man enters. Tall, dressed in all black, face almost unrecognizable as it’s hidden behind a hat, scarf and coat.

Weird, it’s summer.

“We are about to close,” you apologize with a soft smile.

He gets seated nonetheless.

Internally, you want to tell him to leave. Drag him out by his hair if you have to. You are tired, exhausted—but also not in the mood to argue with someone who might just quickly drink a coffee and then leave. Especially when you need every customer you can get anyway.

So you serve him his order.

He doesn’t talk much, yet you feel his gaze burning through you, almost uncomfortably so. You think you know his eyes from somewhere—but you can’t exactly recall from where.

“You look sick. Are you doing quite alright, sweetheart?” He asks, stirring his coffee. Eyes meeting yours as you don’t immediately find an answer.

The voice.

You could swear—

His hand briefly brushes against yours as you clean spilled water from the table, and you flinch at the sensation. They are freezing cold.

“I am— fine.” You reassure, though startled.

He doesn’t speak again after that, and five minutes later, he’s gone. Left a tip, though.

With a note.

“Looking forward to seeing you again.”

You throw it away when you get home.

That night, it’s the same ordeal. Scars burning more than the day before, moon completing a full circle. Dreams of your past, each of them featuring Tom, as though you can’t escape him. Then, memories of that one night in the hut. Clearer this time. How he touched you, where he touched you. How he marked and branded you as his.

Again, you manage to tear yourself from the dream, waking up. Hair stuck to your damp forehead as you turn on the light, checking if there is anyone.

Nobody.

Just as you are about to go back to sleep, you spot a note on your bedside table.

“Come and find me, sweet girl.

Tomorrow, 20:00. I will be there.

If you don’t—as you see, I know where to find you.

And remember, I don’t appreciate disobedience.”

You quickly scrunch the paper, throwing it across the room. You wish he’d just finished the job last time. Like he did with the animals.

Why didn’t he?

—

It’s not that you want to go back, no. But you would rather have it happen in the forest than in your own sacred four walls. Again, you ask yourself—why you? Why not someone else?

Tom is already waiting when you enter the wooden cabin, deep in the heart of the Forbidden Forest.

“I knew you would come if I called for you.” He drawls, stalking towards you.

You scoff. “Did I have a choice?”

A grin tugs at the corner of his lips. “Of course not.”

His eyes scan your body as though he wants to imprint every detail in his mind.

Even more beautiful than last time he saw you, Tom thinks. So pretty when you are scared, shivering. When your heart rate is twice as high as normal—pumping his favourite blood through your veins.

That’s what he’s been waiting for ever since you left.

Tom has done research in the meantime. Gone to several healers he knew he could trust—mostly those closely related to the Malfoys and Rosiers—where he assumed the secret of his return would be safe.

They told him what he had already suspected.

His death broke the curse of the Love Potion his mother had used to seduce his father. And suddenly, when he chose to return as a vampire, all these pent-up feelings he was never able to experience broke free.

He’d always seen you as someone special. An intelligent girl back at Hogwarts, someone that could challenge him—it intrigued him. He observed you, without you ever noticing. But Tom never knew what to make of this strange pull he had towards you.

Until he saw you wandering the street, smelled the scent of you and your blood from a mile away. All these emotions came crashing down onto him, and he realised what it was that interested him about you.

But even now, that he is able to feel—he doesn’t yet know how to love.

So it has turned into obsession instead.

An unknown feeling spread in his chest whenever he saw you from afar. Something that made him crave you, your touch, your affection. He didn’t like it. It made him vulnerable. You made him feel like that. And Merlin, he wanted to punish you for it.

So he lured you into the forest that night. Took everything from you.

He needed you to want him back. But it didn’t happen. So, instead, he made sure you would be his either way.

His initials carved into your skin a constant reminder of who you really belonged to.

“You did that, didn’t you?” You ask, trying to keep your voice as steady as possible. “The dreams, the note. The man at my work. It was all you.”

He nods, face mere inches from yours.

“Why?” You ask again, more silently this time. Voice barely above a whisper.

His hand tilts your head upwards so you are forced to look into his eyes, his thumb wiping over your trembling lips.

“You are so beautiful.” He whispers after what feels like an eternity. Completely disregarding your question. Your heart sinks.

You shake your head. “Answer me.”

His hand trails down your neck, barely touching, slipping beneath the fabric of your sweater—pausing briefly as he feels his initials on your skin.

“You are mine. I usually keep my eyes on my belongings.”

The next sentence slips faster from your lips than what you would have wanted it to.

“You shouldn’t walk around in Hogsmeade. What if— people recognize you?”

His eyes, once focused on where his hand rests beneath your top, snap up to meet yours, a subtle grin forming on his lips.

“Since when do you care? It was you who got me killed, after all.”

You’d expect him to be angry with you—but it’s the opposite, really. His head dips, placing a single, feather-light kiss to your jaw.

“I am sure you’d do nothing rather than go running to your pathetic Aurors at the Ministry and report the rumours are true, no?”

Tom doesn’t wait for a response—instead, he starts trailing kisses down your neck, directly along your vein.

A shiver runs down your spine. You shake your head.

“No— no, I don’t.”

“Mmmh,” he mumbles, his fangs scraping against the sensitive skin of your neck. “Not convinced.”

“Please, I—“

“Shh.” He shushes you, tilting your head to grant him better access to your neck. “Just be still, and I won’t hurt you.”

You nod slowly, a single tear falling down your cheek. You just want this to be over.

Before you even get to process his next move, his teeth sink deep into your flesh, drawing the first drops of blood, pinning you against the wooden panels of the wall. It burns at first—until a warm, pleasurable sensation spreads throughout your body. Your breathing and heart rate slow, and you relax against the wall.

It’s quick, less painful than last time. You try to endure. Not fight back.

It’s hard.

Each time he praises you, or even makes the tiniest sound as he feeds from your neck, you have to hold back a sob.

By the time he’s done, you are more than dizzy. A headache forming. Blood staining your neck, your sweater. Legs trembling.

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hands before he presses a kiss to your lips.

“Taste that? How delicious you are? And you really think I would ever let you go.”

You barely register his words as your knees give in, and you sink down on the floor, vision blurring, ears ringing.

The next thing you remember is waking up the morning after. Not in your own bed. The mattress is harder, pillow thicker than your own. Your neck hurts—and not just because of the pillow.

You try sitting up, lift your head—and immediately lie back down. It hurt too badly.

“There she is. Good girl.” An all-too-familiar voice drawls from beside you, and as you turn your head, you see him, for the first time since he came back in daylight.

He is still as handsome as he was back at Hogwarts—though even paler, if that was possible. Still the same beautiful brown eyes. Sharp jawline. Pointy cheekbones. Broad shoulders. A dream, if he wasn’t what he is. If he didn’t do to you what he did.

“Let me go, please. I promise I won’t tell anyone. I can come back, I will—“ you sob. “I will give you anything you want. I promise.”

He merely laughs.

“Seems as though you still haven’t understood. You are mine. From the second I touched you, you have been mine. No man will want you now that I have had you.” Tom says, as if it were the most normal thing in the world, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Instead, you will be with me.”

You try to find your voice to object, to tell him to forget it. He is the last man you would—

He kisses you instead. Softly. Slowly. And for whatever reason, you don’t protest—let him kiss you—even part your lips to grant him entrance.

Tom turns to look back at you when he gets up to leave—grinning. He is so close to getting you where he wants you. Just a few bites more and he would have you following his orders, make you like him back. And then, at some point, in a few years, maybe—

“One day, I am going to turn you,” he murmurs. “Make you mine, forever.”

thank you for reading! feel free to reblog and leave feedback <3 — masterlist. | AUs.

©2025 viperify. please do not copy, translate or claim my work as your own.

[juliet-017]

I want to work on Kisemes p4 but idk what to do for the most part :((

Like I know the main plot point I want but idk how to start it or even the other themeing I want 💔

[juliet-017]

Hehehe thank you for the repost =0

Im glad you enjoyed 🙏🏻🙏🏻

Reprisal - A.M.

Abraxas Malfoy x Fem!Gryffindor!reader

Minors DNI!

Warnings: cheating!! both parties, slight misogyny, semi-public sex, risk of being caught, Abraxas is like super arrogant (Draco on steroids), marking, choking, implied size kink, oral (both ways), unprotected p in v, creampie (+contraceptive charm)

Synopsis: After your boyfriend, Arcturus Black, cheats on you more times than the hairs you have on your head you decide that you're finally done with him. And what better way to signify that than sleeping with his best friend?

a/n: I needed a fic for the loml Abraxas Malfoy so bad guys so here we are. Thank you @viperify and @neptunemma for helping fuel my Abraxas addiction and for the Malfoy family in general. Anyways I hope you guys enjoy bc if you do I'll write for him more in the future !!

wc: 2.4k

Arcturus Black has pissed you off for the last time. Sure, he’s rich, his family well known but you can't bring yourself to put up with his bullshit anymore after seeing him kissing a girl whilst fully sober for the… what time is it?

It doesn't matter, she's just some no-name a year younger than the both of you, probably just some stage where he'd get bored and come running back to you. Or were you the stage? A middle finger to his family? A rebellious phase? You weren't thinking black and white on this fine evening, deciding to find a way to get under his skin, finally get back at him after being so submissive to him for so long.

Abraxas Septimus Malfoy. One of the only boys who could even try to match up with any of the Blacks, and the best option too. After all, you heard him run his mouth about all the Gryffindor pussy he's gotten countless times, and whether it was talk or not, it intrigued you enough to force a pursuit.

It doesn't take long to find him in the library, conversing with Riddle. Hovering around a bookshelf you peer at them, trying to find the right timing. Biting the inside of your cheek you retract, tidying your appearance before rounding the corner with a clearing of your throat.

They both silence themselves quickly, Riddle glaring while Abraxas holds a curious gaze. “Abraxas, may I have a word?” You ask, being sure to hold a certain level of poise.

The two look between each other, some sort of silent communication before Tom seemingly dismisses Abraxas, a smug expression on the latters face as he approaches you. He looms over you, causing you to look up at him. “Need something that your little prince can't provide?” He drawls mockingly.

“Fuck off.” You hiss, crossing your arms to pout.

He shakes his head, leaning up against the bookcase with his hands in his pockets. “Careful, sweetheart, don't you know about playing nice?” He purrs, reaching out with a hand to play with a strand of your hair.

You huff, glancing around before speaking up. “I'm done with Black.” The words come suddenly, even shocking yourself. “I've put up with far too much from him.”

He nods, appraising you. “Soo, what does that have to do with me?”

Running your tongue over your teeth, you plan your next word. Mirroring him slightly you tilt your head to the side. “I want to give him a taste of his own medicine.”

“Oh? And by that you mean?” Abraxas asks, his tone haughty as he raises a brow.

“Don't act like you haven't been begging to get into my knickers for months now.” You snap. “Talking about all the Gryffindor girls you bed and how adventurous they are. I'm not stupid.”

“So you aren't as dumb as I thought.”

You open your mouth, agape and about to retort before he cracks one of his rare grins. “I'm only having some fun.”

“Well, I don't appreciate being the butt of a joke. I mean I knew you were an arrogant twat but Merlin-.” Abraxas moves quickly, putting a hand against your neck and running a thumb over your carotid artery.

“Your heart is racing, love.” He states bluntly before reaching down to take your forearm into his grip. “Let's get somewhere a bit more private, hm?” He starts to guide you before you rip your arm free.

“Rumors will be bad enough if I get seen simply walking grounds with you, I'm not letting you guide me around like some pet.” You spat, taking walking beside him.

“You sure you wouldn't like that? You look rather like a meek little kitten on Black’s arm.” He taunts, his signature smirk taking over his face. “Rather pretty when you don't run your mouth.”

“Bastard.” You retort, slowing to a stop.

“At least I know what I'm doing with my cock.” He muses. “You looked ever so disappointed whenever leaving Arcturus’ dorm, was a bloody shame I couldn't have ravished you after every single time.” Crowding you, Abraxas traps you up against a corridor wall. “Your boyfriend on the other hand only has money and his name, nothing that'll make his future wife too fascinated.”

Before you can respond you lurch, feeling yourself be yanked and pulled into the closet room. You gather your surroundings in a bewildered state before Abraxas locks the door, finding yourself in an office.. Dumbledore's office. “What the hell, Malfoy?” You ask abruptly, stumbling back from him.

“You said yourself that you didn't want to be seen with me so I had to think of something quick.” Abraxas responds, taking a hand and running it through your hair. “Gryffindor idiocy will never fail to amuse me.” He hums before closing the small distance. “Now let's put that mouth to better use, huh?”

His other hand cups your jaw, running a thumb over your lips before prompting with his thumb. You comply, letting him slip his thumb into your mouth as you swirl your tongue around it teasingly, looking up at him doe-eyed.

He hums, allowing you to continue before backing you up against the closest wall, his knee finding a place between your thighs. The friction makes you moan, Abraxas takes the opportunity to withdraw his thumb, a small string of saliva connecting the two.

He starts working on your neck, leaving light pecks and nips as he unclasps your cloak before moving to undo your tie.

You roll your hips, lost in the simple sensation of his knee against your clit, falling prey to his simple actions.

He works on the buttons of your blouse whilst continuing the assault on your neck, his hands moving to work on your skirt next, heavy breaths intertwining.

Abraxas undoes the small clasp with ease before helping you out of it, guiding you to kneel without second thought. You comply, sitting back on your heels whilst still in your Mary Jane's alongside your undergarments. Abraxas undoes his belt, letting it hit the floor followed by his trousers.

You can already see him through his boxers, your eyes only growing a tad bit wider as he frees himself, already semi-hard. His hand appears in your face, “Spit.”, he commands firmly. You do so, watching him stroke his length as he continues to harden.

He taps his tip against your throat, having you open your mouth as he slowly pushes himself down your throat. “C’mon, you can take more than that, just relax.” He purrs as he practically pets you, pulling your hair into a makeshift pony as he pulls you back, allowing you to breathe before pushing his length back down your throat.

Being more prepared this time, you're able to relax your jaw alongside your throat and let him practically bottom out. He drags himself in and out of your mouth, using your hair as a guide whilst making you match him, his other hand bracing himself against the wall as he looks down and watches.

You moan around him, gagging slightly as you try to take him deeper even with your lack of control in the situation.

“Merlin, it's like you were made to suck cock.” He moans, stuttering a bit in his thrusts as you run your tongue over his cock the best you can. Buried deep inside you he stills, twitching and grinding slightly before he explodes.

Abraxas pulls out slightly, enough so you can swallow, looking up at him with watery eyes as you cough and catch your breath.

Next thing you know he takes your hands, helping you up, enjoying the sight as you rush to finish stripping. Abraxas follows suit, laying himself bare before commanding you to jump, supporting you with your legs and arms wrapped around him.

He pushes you against the wall for starts, working on marking up the other side of your neck, humming. “How about Dumble’s desk? Most action old man's probably going to get, huh?”

Barely waiting for your nod, Abraxas carries you over to the desk, his muscles from Quidditch on full display. And you find yourself unable to tear your eyes away, trying to ignore how the sight alone makes you even more wet. He sets you on the edge of the Deputy headmaster's desk, just enough for some extra support.

Digging your nails into his bare shoulder blades, trusting him and Dumbledore’s desk to hold you up whilst your legs are wrapped around his waist as he teases your drenched cunt. Running himself between your folds a few times, he pushes in slowly, taking his time as if he had waited for this for ages.

“I wish I could've taken you in my dorm.” He pants, almost animalistic as he pounds into you. “Imagine all the things I could've done to you there.”

He wraps a hand around your throat, squeezing enough to make you already feel hazy. “Can't believe Arc gave you up,” he growls into your ear. “Best pussy I've had in ages.”

You let out a moan, your back arching in pleasure as your eyes flutter in pleasure. “Really? That's pathetic.” You spat out, clinging onto any fight you have despite being fucked out of your mind.

“Still running that mouth, are you?” Abraxas retorts the rhetorical question, taking his free hand to draw circles on your clit. “I guess I didn't fuck it hard enough.” He growls, thrusting harder as if to emphasize his point.

You make a guttural sound, scratching at his back as if searching for something to anchor yourself on. “There ya go, that's a good slut.” He groans into your ear, lashes fluttering in pleasure.

You rock your hips, trying to match his pace, silent moans leaving you as you feel your climax approaching.

“Fuck, I'm so close-” You whimper, digging your nails in even deeper.

“Come on, just let go.” He mutters, thrusting into you faster.

You wrap your legs around him further, biting into his shoulder to silence your moans as you fall apart, eyes rolling back slightly as you let go. You slump against him after letting out a loud moan, your forehead falling against his shoulder.

You feel him fuck you through your orgasm, overstimulating you slightly before he stills, spilling inside of you. The two of you stay semi-intertwined for a few minutes, catching breaths and cooling down. Part of you wants to chastise him for cumming inside of you, watching him slowly pull out.

Abraxas gathers the pile of clothing the two of you discarded, setting it right next to you before he pulls out his boxers in order to start dressing. In the midst of it, he picks up his wand, murmuring a contraceptive charm.

You stay sat on the desk, a bit surprised at his actions but hiding it as you start to dress yourself, clasping your bra and starting to button up your blouse, Abraxas working on his own dressing.

“Can't wait to tell everyone how I stole Black’s bitch.”

You let out a laugh, pausing in your rush to get dressed to look over at him. “You did not just say that.”

“What? It's true.” He replies, his words laced with arrogance.

“No, it's not you pussywhipped twat. I pursued you after I was done with his shit.”

“You still picked up on the clues.” He continues to taunt.

You raise your hand to slap him but he catches your wrist. “See this is why I tolerate Gryffindors.. so feisty.” He hums, allowing you to free your wrist. “Now you see I might actually be tempted to fuck you again, unlike half your housemates.. they're not so up to par.”

“Oh really?”

“Mhmmm, and trust me, I don't do charity.”

“Oh fuck you.”

“Just did.” He replies cockily.

“Let's put that mouth to better use, yeah?” You retort mocking his earlier words with a roll of your eyes as you grab his half-done tie, pulling him down as far as he allows.

He smirks, ripping your blouse open before kneeling at the edge of the desk. He pushes you to lean back on your elbows, hooking your knees over his shoulder as he leaves small kisses and nips up your inner thigh.

He teases you, stopping right before where you need him most, letting out slow and labored breaths as you whine in desperation.

Starting with one lick between your folds, Abraxas buried his face, lapping at your pussy like a starved man.

You quickly dig a hand into his scalp, pulling at his hair as you moan loudly. You didn't actually expect him to do this, from what you were told no ‘respectable man’ would ever be willing to do this. Your thoughts were cut off when he hummed around your clit.

He went back to licking, rutting his nose against your clit before deciding to alternate between the two, making the experience drag on in the most pleasurable way.

“You taste divine.” Abraxas mutters against your soaked folds. You groan, trying to rut against his nose slightly as you feel heat cook in the bottom of your stomach once more. Reaching a hand under your bra; Abraxas fiddles with a nipple, squeezing your tit before pinching your nipple.

He does the same with the other, taking his free hand now to fiddle with your clit. You pull at his hair once more before your loud moan echoes around the office, causing you to slack on the desk as you catch your breath.

“I think the scores are pretty even now, don't you, darling?” He taunts as he pulls back, catching his breath as well before he gets up to his feet, helping you stand and sluggishly getting dressed.

He helps you off the desk once both of you are dressed, utterly spent as you two make it to the office door. Abraxas peers around the edges before slipping out and pulling you behind him by the hand.

“That was..” You start, a small giggle escaping you.

“Outstanding? Mind-blowing? Earth-shattering?” Abraxas replies, arrogance already back on his tongue.

“Well, I was going to say nice. It was.. good.” You decide with a small nod.

“Well if you ever need a nice time again, you know where to find me.” He replies, bringing your hand to his lips and leaving a light peck on your knuckles before going his own way.

[juliet-017]

Reprisal - A.M.

Abraxas Malfoy x Fem!Gryffindor!reader

Minors DNI!

Warnings: cheating!! both parties, slight misogyny, semi-public sex, risk of being caught, Abraxas is like super arrogant (Draco on steroids), marking, choking, implied size kink, oral (both ways), unprotected p in v, creampie (+contraceptive charm)

Synopsis: After your boyfriend, Arcturus Black, cheats on you more times than the hairs you have on your head you decide that you're finally done with him. And what better way to signify that than sleeping with his best friend?

a/n: I needed a fic for the loml Abraxas Malfoy so bad guys so here we are. Thank you @viperify and @neptunemma for helping fuel my Abraxas addiction and for the Malfoy family in general. Anyways I hope you guys enjoy bc if you do I'll write for him more in the future !!

Part 2!!

wc: 2.4k

Arcturus Black has pissed you off for the last time. Sure, he’s rich, his family well known but you can't bring yourself to put up with his bullshit anymore after seeing him kissing a girl whilst fully sober for the… what time is it?

It doesn't matter, she's just some no-name a year younger than the both of you, probably just some stage where he'd get bored and come running back to you. Or were you the stage? A middle finger to his family? A rebellious phase? You weren't thinking black and white on this fine evening, deciding to find a way to get under his skin, finally get back at him after being so submissive to him for so long.

Abraxas Septimus Malfoy. One of the only boys who could even try to match up with any of the Blacks, and the best option too. After all, you heard him run his mouth about all the Gryffindor pussy he's gotten countless times, and whether it was talk or not, it intrigued you enough to force a pursuit.

It doesn't take long to find him in the library, conversing with Riddle. Hovering around a bookshelf you peer at them, trying to find the right timing. Biting the inside of your cheek you retract, tidying your appearance before rounding the corner with a clearing of your throat.

They both silence themselves quickly, Riddle glaring while Abraxas holds a curious gaze. “Abraxas, may I have a word?” You ask, being sure to hold a certain level of poise.

The two look between each other, some sort of silent communication before Tom seemingly dismisses Abraxas, a smug expression on the latters face as he approaches you. He looms over you, causing you to look up at him. “Need something that your little prince can't provide?” He drawls mockingly.

“Fuck off.” You hiss, crossing your arms to pout.

He shakes his head, leaning up against the bookcase with his hands in his pockets. “Careful, sweetheart, don't you know about playing nice?” He purrs, reaching out with a hand to play with a strand of your hair.

You huff, glancing around before speaking up. “I'm done with Black.” The words come suddenly, even shocking yourself. “I've put up with far too much from him.”

He nods, appraising you. “Soo, what does that have to do with me?”

Running your tongue over your teeth, you plan your next word. Mirroring him slightly you tilt your head to the side. “I want to give him a taste of his own medicine.”

“Oh? And by that you mean?” Abraxas asks, his tone haughty as he raises a brow.

“Don't act like you haven't been begging to get into my knickers for months now.” You snap. “Talking about all the Gryffindor girls you bed and how adventurous they are. I'm not stupid.”

“So you aren't as dumb as I thought.”

You open your mouth, agape and about to retort before he cracks one of his rare grins. “I'm only having some fun.”

“Well, I don't appreciate being the butt of a joke. I mean I knew you were an arrogant twat but Merlin-.” Abraxas moves quickly, putting a hand against your neck and running a thumb over your carotid artery.

“Your heart is racing, love.” He states bluntly before reaching down to take your forearm into his grip. “Let's get somewhere a bit more private, hm?” He starts to guide you before you rip your arm free.

“Rumors will be bad enough if I get seen simply walking grounds with you, I'm not letting you guide me around like some pet.” You spat, taking walking beside him.

“You sure you wouldn't like that? You look rather like a meek little kitten on Black’s arm.” He taunts, his signature smirk taking over his face. “Rather pretty when you don't run your mouth.”

“Bastard.” You retort, slowing to a stop.

“At least I know what I'm doing with my cock.” He muses. “You looked ever so disappointed whenever leaving Arcturus’ dorm, was a bloody shame I couldn't have ravished you after every single time.” Crowding you, Abraxas traps you up against a corridor wall. “Your boyfriend on the other hand only has money and his name, nothing that'll make his future wife too fascinated.”

Before you can respond you lurch, feeling yourself be yanked and pulled into the closet room. You gather your surroundings in a bewildered state before Abraxas locks the door, finding yourself in an office.. Dumbledore's office. “What the hell, Malfoy?” You ask abruptly, stumbling back from him.

“You said yourself that you didn't want to be seen with me so I had to think of something quick.” Abraxas responds, taking a hand and running it through your hair. “Gryffindor idiocy will never fail to amuse me.” He hums before closing the small distance. “Now let's put that mouth to better use, huh?”

His other hand cups your jaw, running a thumb over your lips before prompting with his thumb. You comply, letting him slip his thumb into your mouth as you swirl your tongue around it teasingly, looking up at him doe-eyed.

He hums, allowing you to continue before backing you up against the closest wall, his knee finding a place between your thighs. The friction makes you moan, Abraxas takes the opportunity to withdraw his thumb, a small string of saliva connecting the two.

He starts working on your neck, leaving light pecks and nips as he unclasps your cloak before moving to undo your tie.

You roll your hips, lost in the simple sensation of his knee against your clit, falling prey to his simple actions.

He works on the buttons of your blouse whilst continuing the assault on your neck, his hands moving to work on your skirt next, heavy breaths intertwining.

Abraxas undoes the small clasp with ease before helping you out of it, guiding you to kneel without second thought. You comply, sitting back on your heels whilst still in your Mary Jane's alongside your undergarments. Abraxas undoes his belt, letting it hit the floor followed by his trousers.

You can already see him through his boxers, your eyes only growing a tad bit wider as he frees himself, already semi-hard. His hand appears in your face, “Spit.”, he commands firmly. You do so, watching him stroke his length as he continues to harden.

He taps his tip against your throat, having you open your mouth as he slowly pushes himself down your throat. “C’mon, you can take more than that, just relax.” He purrs as he practically pets you, pulling your hair into a makeshift pony as he pulls you back, allowing you to breathe before pushing his length back down your throat.

Being more prepared this time, you're able to relax your jaw alongside your throat and let him practically bottom out. He drags himself in and out of your mouth, using your hair as a guide whilst making you match him, his other hand bracing himself against the wall as he looks down and watches.

You moan around him, gagging slightly as you try to take him deeper even with your lack of control in the situation.

“Merlin, it's like you were made to suck cock.” He moans, stuttering a bit in his thrusts as you run your tongue over his cock the best you can. Buried deep inside you he stills, twitching and grinding slightly before he explodes.

Abraxas pulls out slightly, enough so you can swallow, looking up at him with watery eyes as you cough and catch your breath.

Next thing you know he takes your hands, helping you up, enjoying the sight as you rush to finish stripping. Abraxas follows suit, laying himself bare before commanding you to jump, supporting you with your legs and arms wrapped around him.

He pushes you against the wall for starts, working on marking up the other side of your neck, humming. “How about Dumble’s desk? Most action old man's probably going to get, huh?”

Barely waiting for your nod, Abraxas carries you over to the desk, his muscles from Quidditch on full display. And you find yourself unable to tear your eyes away, trying to ignore how the sight alone makes you even more wet. He sets you on the edge of the Deputy headmaster's desk, just enough for some extra support.

Digging your nails into his bare shoulder blades, trusting him and Dumbledore’s desk to hold you up whilst your legs are wrapped around his waist as he teases your drenched cunt. Running himself between your folds a few times, he pushes in slowly, taking his time as if he had waited for this for ages.

“I wish I could've taken you in my dorm.” He pants, almost animalistic as he pounds into you. “Imagine all the things I could've done to you there.”

He wraps a hand around your throat, squeezing enough to make you already feel hazy. “Can't believe Arc gave you up,” he growls into your ear. “Best pussy I've had in ages.”

You let out a moan, your back arching in pleasure as your eyes flutter in pleasure. “Really? That's pathetic.” You spat out, clinging onto any fight you have despite being fucked out of your mind.

“Still running that mouth, are you?” Abraxas retorts the rhetorical question, taking his free hand to draw circles on your clit. “I guess I didn't fuck it hard enough.” He growls, thrusting harder as if to emphasize his point.

You make a guttural sound, scratching at his back as if searching for something to anchor yourself on. “There ya go, that's a good slut.” He groans into your ear, lashes fluttering in pleasure.

You rock your hips, trying to match his pace, silent moans leaving you as you feel your climax approaching.

“Fuck, I'm so close-” You whimper, digging your nails in even deeper.

“Come on, just let go.” He mutters, thrusting into you faster.

You wrap your legs around him further, biting into his shoulder to silence your moans as you fall apart, eyes rolling back slightly as you let go. You slump against him after letting out a loud moan, your forehead falling against his shoulder.

You feel him fuck you through your orgasm, overstimulating you slightly before he stills, spilling inside of you. The two of you stay semi-intertwined for a few minutes, catching breaths and cooling down. Part of you wants to chastise him for cumming inside of you, watching him slowly pull out.

Abraxas gathers the pile of clothing the two of you discarded, setting it right next to you before he pulls out his boxers in order to start dressing. In the midst of it, he picks up his wand, murmuring a contraceptive charm.

You stay sat on the desk, a bit surprised at his actions but hiding it as you start to dress yourself, clasping your bra and starting to button up your blouse, Abraxas working on his own dressing.

“Can't wait to tell everyone how I stole Black’s bitch.”

You let out a laugh, pausing in your rush to get dressed to look over at him. “You did not just say that.”

“What? It's true.” He replies, his words laced with arrogance.

“No, it's not you pussywhipped twat. I pursued you after I was done with his shit.”

“You still picked up on the clues.” He continues to taunt.

You raise your hand to slap him but he catches your wrist. “See this is why I tolerate Gryffindors.. so feisty.” He hums, allowing you to free your wrist. “Now you see I might actually be tempted to fuck you again, unlike half your housemates.. they're not so up to par.”

“Oh really?”

“Mhmmm, and trust me, I don't do charity.”

“Oh fuck you.”

“Just did.” He replies cockily.

“Let's put that mouth to better use, yeah?” You retort mocking his earlier words with a roll of your eyes as you grab his half-done tie, pulling him down as far as he allows.

He smirks, ripping your blouse open before kneeling at the edge of the desk. He pushes you to lean back on your elbows, hooking your knees over his shoulder as he leaves small kisses and nips up your inner thigh.

He teases you, stopping right before where you need him most, letting out slow and labored breaths as you whine in desperation.

Starting with one lick between your folds, Abraxas buried his face, lapping at your pussy like a starved man.

You quickly dig a hand into his scalp, pulling at his hair as you moan loudly. You didn't actually expect him to do this, from what you were told no ‘respectable man’ would ever be willing to do this. Your thoughts were cut off when he hummed around your clit.

He went back to licking, rutting his nose against your clit before deciding to alternate between the two, making the experience drag on in the most pleasurable way.

“You taste divine.” Abraxas mutters against your soaked folds. You groan, trying to rut against his nose slightly as you feel heat cook in the bottom of your stomach once more. Reaching a hand under your bra; Abraxas fiddles with a nipple, squeezing your tit before pinching your nipple.

He does the same with the other, taking his free hand now to fiddle with your clit. You pull at his hair once more before your loud moan echoes around the office, causing you to slack on the desk as you catch your breath.

“I think the scores are pretty even now, don't you, darling?” He taunts as he pulls back, catching his breath as well before he gets up to his feet, helping you stand and sluggishly getting dressed.

He helps you off the desk once both of you are dressed, utterly spent as you two make it to the office door. Abraxas peers around the edges before slipping out and pulling you behind him by the hand.

“That was..” You start, a small giggle escaping you.

“Outstanding? Mind-blowing? Earth-shattering?” Abraxas replies, arrogance already back on his tongue.

“Well, I was going to say nice. It was.. good.” You decide with a small nod.

“Well if you ever need a nice time again, you know where to find me.” He replies, bringing your hand to his lips and leaving a light peck on your knuckles before going his own way.

[juliet-017]

Oh ilysm marls 🩷🩷🩷

I'm glad you enjoyed 😩 I'm Mattheo-ifying you aren't I?

Liberation - M.R.

Mattheo Riddle x fem!reader

Minors DNI !!

Warnings: references to emotional cheating if you squint, unprotected p in v, creampie, squirting, size kink, lmk if I missed anything!

Synopsis: After getting out of one of your longer relationships you can't help but run back to a previous short term relationship, slipping back into his arms with ease, the sex even better than you remembered.

a/n: This is in no way an intentional reflection on Taylor Swift's relationship with Joe Alwyn or Matty Healey. She can date who she wants to date, it's her life (#Taywarrior). I started this back when FOTS was tending and just HAD to write it, enjoy! 🩷

Wc: ~1k

Life was desolate, boring, and as lonely as it could get despite having a boyfriend who would rarely bat an eye at you.

Cormac McLaggen wasn't the worst boyfriend you could ask for, he was still kind, and cared for you. Yet it felt like a prison, how he prefers to stay out of the public eye, your relationship feeling secret. ‘Romance is not dead if you keep it just yours’ was something you spoke of often whilst you were in his arms.

Till your relationship ran cold.

You never felt understood, feeling stuck in this relationship, it felt like a bloody prison, stuck in the confines of what McLaggen felt was best, the secretive nature driving you crazy at this point.

Your friends knew you were unhappy, trying to tell you to break up with him, to be free and happy. You wouldn't listen, going back under the wraps just to enjoy his warmth and joy.

After fucking years of dealing with him, with this. The escape from your gilded cage, the short-lived outings before being locked away once more like some songbird, falling into the arms of the one that always lingered in the back of your mind.

Mattheo fucking Riddle.

He wasn't soft by any means, but he still was a thick blanket, something that made you feel lively. It felt freeing, someone that you had been on and off with for ages, someone who knew you better than the back of your own hand, that you constantly snuck glances to for months on end even when in your past relationship.

**

The mourning period of your relationship was long gone when you at Mattheo and yourself decided to go for a stroll around Hogsmeade, just the two of you. It was a nice change of pace compared to those constant weekends in, Mattheo often letting you guide the way, watching you with adoring eyes.

The stares came easy, and judgments passed. He was Mattheo Riddle after all, infamous around the school for the constant spats he got into. But you didn't care, he was a breath of fresh air.

In all honesty, the attention you two gained was admirable, allowing people to stare and whisper, ignoring anyone who tried to tell you that Mattheo wasn't good enough for you.

Blocking them out came easy, especially after your last relationship, ending up smitten by the end of your Hogsmeade trip.

Curling up against his chest nightly, walking under the bright sun or the stars without a worry. The late-night trysts of freedom were a stark contrast to your life prior, it felt like flying. The deep connection that had you two constantly bound together.

***

It's how you ended up in his dorm, your panties torn and discarded, writing underneath him as he toyed with you. On your back, eyes admiring the top of the canopy bed.

“Fuck, Matty.” You whimper out, trying to roll your hips, desperate for him. His weight pinning you down as he works you up, only making you wetter.

He nibbles at your neck, sucking and biting, working his way to your shoulder then your tits. His mouth surrounded one of your nipples, teasing it with his teeth.

One of your hands curled in his hair, pulling slightly at Mattheo’s hair as he practically worshiped your body. “Gonna make you all pretty and marked up, baby.” He hums, squeezing your tits together and momentarily burying his face before pulling back to look over your vulnerable form.

You whined, desperate for him as you try to pull him closer. “Patience, doll.” He murmurs, bringing his lips to yours in a slow and purposeful kiss whilst his hands squeeze your waist in a possessive manner. “So gorgeous.. all mine.” He mutters into the kiss.

Before you know it he was aligning himself with your folds, collecting some slick on his head before pushing into you. He filled you fuller than you remembered, stretching you full of him with a slight burn as you dug your nails into his back pathetically.

Mattheo lets out a scoff, a deep chuckle. “What? Was McLaggen so tiny that you forgot what a good dick felt like?” He asks condescendingly, allowing you to adjust before slowly starting to move inside of you. “So damn tight.” He mutters, one hand still on your waist while the other cups your cheek. “Relax some, love.”

You nod, taking a few deep breaths, to relax around him. “There's my good girl.” He praises as he starts to move a bit faster, butting your cervix.

“Shit- Matty-” You moan, trying to pull him closer to you. “Feels so good.”

“Hmm, I'm the only one that can fuck you like this aren't I?” He hums, grabbing your jaw and smooshing your cheeks together.

You nod the bit you can, letting him paw at you like some feral animal as you arch your back so he can get deeper, readjusting to his large size with no complaints besides the occasional grimace.

He complies, grabbing your ass and helping you lift your hips slightly as he hammers into you with a bruising grip, the assault on your cervix so violent you already know you’ll be incoherent once finished.

He moves a hand to you with your clit, rubbing deep circles whilst listening to your vocalizations get louder. Continuing to praise you through your oncoming orgasm, clenching him. “So tight, bloody hell.” He groans, his hips snapping back and forth even harder as your moans and sweat mingle.

You don't even register it when you come, falling slack right after and feeling Mattheo stall. “What? Don't you wanna-”

He looks between your face and your pussy. “Holy shit, baby that was hot.” He mutters before slowly picking the pace back up. “Squirted all over my cock, I forgot how hot it was.”

You moan again, feeling him twitch inside of you. “Almost forgot I could do that.” You reply, voice light and airy.

“I was just joking earlier but turns out McLaggen really didn't fuck you good, huh?” He mutters, fucking you rougher before painting your walls white, collapsing on top of you, rolling the both of you over.

He pulls out of you while you both catch your breath, playing with your hair. “Gonna have to fuck you again once you catch your breath aren't I?” He asks, breath ragged and voice rough.

“Couldn't complain about that.” You giggle, nuzzling closer against his chest.