Come Back Changed
𝜗ৎ chapter two 1.7k words (read the prologue here and chapter one here, and the final chapter here)
Lucius Malfoy x afab!reader
𝜗ৎ Summary: Since Lucius returned, The Dark Lord has taken over your home and your safety, but you won't let him drive a wedge between you and Lucius, no matter how hard he tries. Unfortunately for Lucius, his body has other ideas.
𝜗ৎ Author's notes: The events of this chapter were the spark that started the whole fic, so I hope it isn't as disappointing as Lucius thinks he is in bed these days. There is just one more chapter to go after this one - shall we let Lucius have the happy ending he doesn't deserve?
𝜗ৎ Content/warnings: nsfw, erectile dysfunction, making out, Lucius is sad and pathetic (just how we like him)
‘He took my wand.’
The voice was dim, but enough that your head shot up as Lucius staggered into the room, dazed. The silver snake that was once attached to his wand clattered to the floor.
You leapt up to close the door, warding it against any noise escaping as had become customary since the Manor had been crawling with Death Eaters within only hours of Lucius’s return.
‘He took my wand!’ Lucius howled, the final word punctuated by his fist slamming to the wall, followed by a soft little whimper; it hurt. He sobbed against it, trembling fingers stroking where he’d just punched the wall like some sort of feeble attempt at an apology.
His shirt wasn’t fastened all the way up, his hair was unbrushed and there was light stubble dusting his jaw. You’d seen him like before; the morning after one of your ever successful Malfoy Manor parties, and far more favourably, late at night when you’d been making out a little too hard in whichever room you found yourselves alone in after dinner before you’d drag him up to bed and strip the remainder of his clothes off.
The familiar warmth of your arms wrapping around his middle brought him back to you, his vision turning blurry for a moment as he adjusted to the safety your embrace provided. You’d picked it up, his decorative snake, and caressed it with as much care as you were holding him.
He’d needed you all this time but hadn’t known how to ask, not with everything he’d put you through, instead accepting that he’d ruined everything. There was no way out, but at least he wasn’t forced to drag you down with him.
He melted against you and tried to find his breath while your palm soothed slow circles over his back. With a final gasp, he pulled himself away only to collapse face down on the bed instead, one ankle dangling sadly over the edge, shoulders shaking as he sobbed.
You sat on the mattress beside him, standing the snake on your side table, its emerald eye glinting in the candlelight. You debated how to soothe him. There was one way you knew how but now wasn’t the time.
‘My wand!’ he wailed again, muffled into the pillow this time, groaning and gripping the edges tight before turning his head to breathe. ‘I’m nothing. Look at me.’
Biting back your own tears, you gently swept the hair away from his face, smoothing it over his shoulder. ‘Lucius,’ you whispered carefully, ‘Lucius, come back to me.’
Weakly, he rolled onto his back and you placed your hands to his chest. With a sigh, his slender fingers circled your wrists, keeping your hands there over his heart.
His eyes scrunched shut and forehead creased as he tried to think clearly. How had it come to this? All he’d ever hoped for was that he would do something that one person would be proud of. It would never have been his father, he learned that at a young age. What was breaking his heart now was it would never be you, either — or his beloved son for whom he tried to provide the world the only way he knew how.
He had wanted to be your safety after finding his own with you. Now, thanks to his own mistakes, it was nowhere to be seen for either of you.
‘I got it all wrong, didn’t I,’ he rasped, shaking his head. His fingers tightened around your wrists, ‘the whole time I thought I was protecting you, protecting Draco, and- mmnh!’
You’d crushed your lips to his, not needing to hear another word. His hands dropped away and back up to the pillow in surrender while you pushed yours up to tangle in his hair.
You pulled back, breathless, and his eyes locked on yours.
‘Listen to me, Lucius Malfoy. You are everything.’
‘B-but I’ve let you down- I’ve ruined-’
‘You’ve done no such thing. You were protecting us; you were doing what you thought was right, and you might have got that wrong in the end, anyone could — but you were doing it for us.’
Lucius blinked his gaze away, nodding resignedly.
‘You can’t control the Dark Lord,’ you went on, ‘he will crush anyone in his path, but he won’t crush you. Not if I have anything to do with it.’
Lucius stared up at you as though you’d just brought him back from the brink of death. After a beat he parted his lips, paused, and then spoke evenly for the first time in weeks. ‘Come,’ he said, patting the space beside him on the bed, ‘stay with me?’
Bottom lip trembling, you cupped his damp cheek and nodded. You’d slept alone most nights while Lucius was off being forced to do Merlin-knows-what for the Dark Lord, or simply sleeping in any other room of the Manor rather than face what he’d put you through.
‘I’ve been a coward, weak-’
‘No, Luci-’
‘-I’ve let the Dark Lord take many things, but I will not let him come between us.’
You sat up, dragging in a slow breath before hopping off the bed to strip down to your underwear under his nervous gaze. Now was the time.
A final tear slipped from the corner of one eye, and he let it fall. ‘My love, how I’ve needed you,’ he sighed, his gaze following you around the bed. Oh, you were beautiful.
‘I’m sorry it hasn’t been the same since you returned,’ you breathed as you slipped beneath the sheets and settled into his side, ‘let me help you find yourself again, hm?’
Lucius was wide eyed like it was the first time as you trailed wet kisses down his neck, your fingers quickly unfastening each button of his shirt, giving your eager lips access to his pale chest.
His heart beat faster, his flesh tingled and there was a simmering in his gut that told him to grab you and pin you down, ravage you until you were shaking, the way he should have done the moment he returned from Azkaban. The other half of him craved that feeling you were always so good at igniting while he lay begging and whimpering beneath you, in awe of the way you could unravel him so fast.
But this time something was stopping him. He didn’t feel quite right, somehow. He knew things had changed, knew this might feel a little bit different with all that he’d been through recently, but he could still do it, couldn’t he?
Trying not to break the mood, he adjusted onto his side to get a proper look at you, passionately sucking and lapping at every inch of him as your hands explored his broad shoulders, his strong arms. He tried to focus on the shape of your body, tracing your contours with a single, careful finger.
Nothing.
You slid down the bed, your mouth now somewhere between his bellybutton and the fastening of his trousers, lavishing him with gentle affections that would have had him whining and leaking into his underwear not so long ago — but if you moved just an inch lower, you’d know. He would never be able to look you in the eye again, would he?
‘Hold on,’ he said, pulling you back up to face him.
‘What’s wrong, Luci,’ you smirked, licking your lips in a way designed to make him throb, ‘worried you’ll cum in your pants without me even touching you?’
Lucius swallowed hard. He didn’t think he could be any more of a disappointment, and now this.
‘Don’t worry,’ you smirked, pressing your palm to high thigh and slowly trailing up, ‘you know I love it when you c- oh…’
Lucius sucked in a breath watching the dawn of realisation bloom on your features as the colour drained from your cheeks.
He really had fucked up once and for all.
‘Do you, um… do you need me to-’ you tried, gently rubbing his incredibly soft cock through his trousers.
‘I’m sorry,’ he breathed, ‘I don’t know what I need.’
‘But you always know-’
‘I think I’m broken.’
‘Maybe if I-’
‘Please,’ he spoke under his breath, ‘it’s not going to work. Stop?’
You nodded with a forced smile, flopping onto your pillow. You weren’t going to insult Lucius by asking if it was you. You knew him better than that – this was simply what the Dark Lord wanted. He wanted Lucius broken and helpless, to use him however and whenever he wanted. He’d taken his safety, his home, his wand and now this.
Lucius’s hand found its way to your knee, tracing a shaky path up your thigh. His eyes flicked up to meet yours as he slid his fingers against your core. You absolutely ached for him, and couldn’t deny the thrill his fingers sent through you, or the impulse to push your hips up for more friction, but you grabbed his wrist and snapped your hips away instead, gripping his shoulders and kissing him again with fervour.
‘No,’ you said gently against his lips, ‘you don’t have to do anything, Luci. Not tonight.’
‘I’m so sorry-’ he sputtered. Knowing he was pathetic was quite different to feeling it. He really felt it now.
‘When you’re ready, I’ll be right here and you can have me however you want, just like before.’
‘I don’t know if it’ll ever be like before again.’
‘It doesn’t matter, but you’re not broken. You’re exhausted. Come on, get some rest. With me. He would hate that.’
‘He would?’ Lucius said with the faintest hint of a smile, settling against your chest, the way he used to pull you to his.
‘He wants you alone and broken, but here with me? You’re loved and whole. You don’t need to make me come to prove that.’
‘But I’ve never struggled to- to- well, this has never been a problem for me,’ he huffed. ‘You know it’s not your fault, don’t you? You know you drive me utterly wild? Please don’t think-’
‘I know,’ you soothed, stroking his hair, coaxing his head back down, ‘I know, and it’s alright. You’re more to me than that, Lucius.’
Reluctant to accept your understanding but reassured all the same, he nuzzled into your shoulder, humming softly and slowly slipped into a heavy slumber in your arms, where you held him there until morning.
𝜗ৎ Summary: Lucius is back. Kind of. He can get it up now at least!
𝜗ৎ Author's notes: This chapter is in present tense as I thought it worked better so I hope it isn’t too jarring after the previous past tense. You can probably read this as a stand-alone fic if preferred!
Lucius slept in your arms every night from the end of the battle to the date of his trial. You knew that when he was ready, he would come to you, and come to you, he did. The night his fate was determined by the Wizengamot (a light sentence all things considered – a temporary ban on magic outside of simple charms in the home and no further time to be served in Azkaban), you’d fallen into bed together exhausted, and slept through the night in one another's arms. And here we arrive at the following evening…
𝜗ৎ
Shadows flicker dramatically up the walls as you cross the drawing room. Lucius is before you, lounging with a dog at his feet, one leg bent at the knee and the other stretched toward the fireplace. It’s the only light in the room and it makes the chasm of a space feel cosy; something you’d been trying to introduce to the manor, bit by bit.
His steady hands clutch the Prophet folded in front of him, a quill floating easily within his reach. You sigh, smiling at the slow rise and fall of his chest as he considers the puzzle page. Then your eyes fall on the glint of silver by his side — his cane, resting perfectly against the arm of his chair, and your lips curl into a sly smile.
You step closer, the dog at Lucius’s feet lifting his head and trotting over to greet you. You smile down at him, fussing him for a moment until you feel Lucius’s gaze searing into you with more heat than the flames behind the hearth. Your smile falters as his lips pull up at one side.
‘Bed, Prince’ he hisses commandingly yet somehow playfully, and the dog happily scampers out of the room. ‘And you,’ he says darkly, eyes sparkling, ‘do you care to join me?’
‘I do,’ you smirk, and step around to drop onto his lap, your legs between his as you lean into his chest and cast your gaze over the puzzle he’s been mulling over. ‘It’s wrackspurt.’
Lucius raises an eyebrow. ‘What is?’
You point at the empty column yet to be filled by his quill. ‘Invisible brain confuser, ten letters. Here. You already have the a. It fits, see?’
Lucius draws a slow breath and summons his quill, offering it to you with a gracious tilt of his head. ‘And what, dare I ask, is a wrackspurt?’
‘Invisible brain confuser pretty much sums it up,’ you snark.
His fingers grip your chin lightly, turning your face to his. ‘Is that so?’
Merlin. Those eyes really would be the death of you. You squirm a little on his lap.
‘I read about them,’ you said, muffled where his grip was pushing your lips in that delicious way you hoped would lead to more. ‘In the Quibbler.’
‘Ah.’ He drops his hand, satisfied enough; he doesn’t bother telling you what he thinks to your magazine of choice but it certainly explains why he couldn’t solve the last clue. ‘Well done,’ he says instead.
‘You might consider it drivel, but it’s finished your wizardword off nicely.’
‘I said nothing,’ he says, holding his hands up in mock surrender.
‘Hmm.’ You hand the quill back to him and he sends it floating off back to the writing desk in the corner where it lives.
When his eyes flit back to you, his brow knits in question for a moment before his gaze is drawn down to where your finger is lightly circling the tip of his cane.
‘What-’ he begins, voice a mere whisper, but he stops as you push your gentle touch down the silver, every finger closing around it to caress the shiny snake tip, and back up, and down again before you wrap your hand entirely around it and squeeze.
‘Ohh-’
The quiet little moan was involuntary, and he clears his throat in a fruitless attempt to cover it up, but it doesn’t work.
‘Everything alright, Luci?’ you purr, pumping your hand obscenely slowly around the studded neck.
He nods quickly.
‘Only, you seem a little… on edge?’
You speed up your hand, trying not to chuckle at the way his eyes flick between the movement and your face as he tries to work out exactly how to play this. But it’s not his game, and he knows it.
‘Is something bothering you?’ You tilt your head mock-innocently.
He shakes his head, shifting beneath you in the seat and- ‘Ah!’ Oh, that one was loud. Unrestrained and obvious.
Your thumb swipes over the snake’s head and he’s vaguely aware of your free hand taking one of his, bringing it to your parted lips, taking it into your mouth to suck, moaning around it.
The warmth and the motion is familiar, and with the view of what your hand is doing to his cane, he groans, finally giving in. His chest heaves as he feels you, watches you, touching and sucking so precisely, just the way he likes it but not where he needs it.
His finger leaves your mouth with a pop, trailing down to press between your thighs and you cry out, the cane clattering to the marble floor as you climb up to straddle him instead, trying to regain control.
‘See something you liked?’ you tease, and he smirks up at you.
You trail your hand between your bodies and find his length, hard and throbbing in his trousers. You know he will see relief cross your face, but it doesn’t matter; you can feel it radiating from him, too.
Eager, you rub him over the fabric once, twice – and that’s all it takes. He unravels, bucking his hips up into the friction of your palm as his head drops back, features contorted in pleasure long overdue as it ripples through him, wave after wave of delicious relief.
He doesn’t hesitate to slip his fingers beneath your layers, finding his way into your underwear to rub quick, tight circles until you’re shaking. He plunges the finger you’d sucked inside, pumping fast as you come undone above him, riding his hand like his touch is your lifeline.
𝜗ৎ
The next morning, when your eyes blink open, Lucius is at the dressing table, perfectly poised in his silk dressing gown, pulling his hair back and tying a neat little black bow to keep it in place.
‘Going somewhere, handsome?’ you ask with a yawn.
He flashes that mischievous smirk – the one that pulls at his lips whenever he’s had an idea that means you’re in for a good time.
‘Lucius Malfoy, what are you planning?’ you smirk back, but he doesn’t answer.
He crosses the space between you slowly, unfastening his robe and letting it slip from his body until it’s pooled around his feet. A pearly bead of precum pumps from his tip, and god, you needed to touch him again, taste him – properly this time, but he doesn’t give you what you crave. Not exactly, anyway. Not yet.
Pushing the duvet aside, he perches by your legs, careful – and freshly moisturised – hands caressing your thighs. Just as you sigh into the motion, he pushes them apart, settling comfortably between them.
‘Darling, I have left you wanting for far too long, haven’t I?’ he groans as his eyes drink you in. ‘Last night was a meagre offering for the length you’ve waited.’
He drops forward to lap gently at your folds and your fingers slip into his hair, pulling at his perfect ponytail while he moans into you like a starved man. Heat licks through your body with every precise swipe of his tongue until your first orgasm shudders through your body.
It does nothing to deter him. His tongue is unrelenting and his fingers join to coax that spot inside that complements the attention of his tongue so deliciously your fingers tear at the sheet beneath you until his tongue tips you over the edge of bliss once again.
Placing the softest kiss to your core, Lucius hums delightedly and sucks his fingers clean as he crawls over you, one hand grabbing your hip and then trailing lower until his elegant fingers curl around your thigh, lifting it around his waist and with a low grunt he guides himself inside.
Finally feeling you wrapped around his length again he stills, eyes sliding shut, forehead pressing to yours. He’s determined to last longer than he managed last night, but he feels like a virgin again after what’s felt like a lifetime without.
Rolling his hips slowly, he groans as your walls clench around him, warm and soft. Your fingers reach to pull at the bow in his hair, loosening it enough for his platinum locks to cascade around his shoulders.
He kisses you slowly as he rocks into you, gripping the headboard. Then his pace switches entirely and he’s slamming into you, hips slapping against the backs of your thighs as the bed creaks beneath you and once again your vision bursts white with stars.
Lucius’s mouth drops open in a silent cry and he spills, hot, inside you, rocking with you slowly again now as he comes down from the high with your legs wrapped around his middle.
He collapses onto you, peppering kisses around your face with heavy breaths as you trace lines up and down his back with gentle fingertips. He moans quietly with every twitch of his cock softening inside you.
You cup his cheek, his tired eyes hot on yours.
‘You fixed me,’ he breathes, the hint of a satisfied laugh lacing his words.
‘You fixed yourself,’ you smile, pulling him down for another lingering kiss.
Come Back Changed
𝜗ৎ chapter one 4k words (read the prologue here)
Lucius Malfoy x afab!reader
𝜗ৎ Summary: Lucius has been in Azkaban for a year, tonight he returns to you.
𝜗ৎ Author's notes: getting some good old fashioned hurt/comfort into this before the real angst sets in!
𝜗ৎ Content/warnings: nsfw, fingering, penetrative sex, pining, Azkaban related trauma depictions, injury minions, hurt/comfort, alcohol, afab!reader referred to as 'Mistress Malfoy' - no other gendered terms.
It had started to hurt physically, wondering if you’d ever see him again. Your stomach churned with guilt, knowing Lucius must have been a thousand times more scared than you, yet still you were fearful. Your heart ached for how it used to be. Your eyes stung with images of him tortured and mistreated flashing through your mind again and again while you tossed and turned in the cold, empty bed that once was a safe haven for both of you.
You’d be with him at any opportunity if you could, even just to hold his hand. But Azkaban was far from visitor friendly, so in the early days you’d worked tirelessly on fruitless ideas and plans to help him escape unnoticed and tried to figure out ways to reason with the Dark Lord to leverage some help, but nothing seemed to make enough sense to work and everything you heard about the Death Eaters current movements made it clear that Voldemort wanted Lucius to suffer. So eventually you simply waited instead, soothing yourself that Lucius would know what to do. He always knew what to do.
When the sun began to set on an early June evening, you’d grown tired of the change of scenery the Malfoy Manor library had to offer. The books you’d loved to read before lay sad and unopened around you; the only thing occupying your mind being the looming one year anniversary of Lucius’s incarceration. How could it have been a whole year already? Before you let the twilight get to you, thoughts tuning darker with the setting sun, you retreated back to your bedroom to prepare for another fitful attempt at sleep without him beside you, his favorite robe draped over your tired body like a blanket, as though it could be the man himself.
You moved through the house almost ethereally; floating from one room to the next until you reached your room. You knew the house elf watched you, feeling his eyes follow you around the place, but he talked too much for your liking and you really didn’t want to talk about anything at all – let alone Lucius – so you pretended not to notice.
Climbing the stairs and pushing the bedroom door open with a heavy sigh, your lungs ceased entirely when you glanced across the room. Your body shivered, joy spilling through it like the summer sun illuminating a previously cold room.
There he stood. Lucius Malfoy, shaking and muttering in the middle of the room, sleek platinum hair matted into a dirty mess with the equally dirty dusting of a beard covering his jaw. He was hunched in front of the fire, dripping wet from the storm in his filthy prison scrubs.
Your legs almost gave out as you ran to him, stopping yourself from the embrace you’d longed for because you’d no idea what it might do to him. Did he even know you were here?
‘Luci, darling, it’s me. What do you need? How long do we have?’
‘I- I don’t-’ he began, voice cracking with disuse. ‘I need you,’ he croaked.
You reached out, carefully placing a palm to his cheek. He felt icy. ‘What have they done to you?’
Slowly, he lifted his head. A stab of pain shot through your gut to see that his beautiful grey eyes were now timid and dull and rimmed with dark circles where they once sparkled with pride.
Weakly, he leaned into your touch.
‘It’s alright,’ you whispered, ‘I’ve got you. You’re safe now.’
You had to get him warm, and judging by the way his cheekbones pressed into your palm, you needed to get him fed too.
You guided him to a chair by the fire, told him you’d take care of everything and drew him a hot bath, candles illuminating every corner of the room while his favorite scents mixed silkily into the steaming water. You hoped to help him feel at home here again, but you knew it might take more than his favorite bubbles.
Calling him through, you left a fluffy towel by the side of the steaming tub and dipped your fingers into the water to make sure the temperature was just right. You turned to see him standing by the door, as though he was a guest in the manor that had been passed down through his family for thousands of years.
You didn’t get into the tub with Lucius as had once been customary, because when you reached for the hem of his stained scrubs, Lucius cowered, backing away and shutting his eyes.
He didn’t want you to see him like this, battered, bruised and bony. You’d never seen him like this before, instead used to his strong arms, his soft stomach, his lightly toned chest, pale skin like the finest milk. The chances of you wanting him back after all of this were slim to begin with, but seeing him like this? Weak and scared with the injuries to show it? No, he couldn’t have that. You deserved better and he deserved nothing.
‘I’ll leave you to it, then,’ you smiled weakly, voice wavering. ‘Call for me if you need anything.’
You swept past him before he could pick up on the tears you were holding back. You kept them at bay as he soaked in the tub by busying yourself in the bedroom, securing the door and windows with every charm you could remember, drawing the curtains closed, and finally stepping out of the room to summon the house elf and ask that a plate of food, a glass of brandy and a jug of water be sent up for you.
‘Got your appetite back, Mistress?’ he said with big, hopeful eyes.
Your gut clenched as you lied, ‘Yes. That’s it. Thank you, Slinky. Just leave the tray outside the room, would you? I’ll collect it myself when I’m ready.’
‘Has there been news of Master Malfoy?’
You shook your head, avoiding his eyes. The guilt you felt for lying to the poor little thing was overshadowed entirely by your loyalty to Lucius. You wouldn’t let a short conversation with the house elf sabotage what you’d waited a year for. No one must know Lucius was here. Not tonight, anyway.
You watched Slinky disappear off to the kitchen, shaking his head in sympathy, and sealed yourself back in the bedroom, falling against the door and trying to stop your head spinning. You had to get your thoughts in order if you were going to help him.
Lucius is alone in the bathroom. Go to Lucius.
Grabbing something soft and comfortable from the dressing room on the way, you did just that.
‘All okay in there?’ You listened carefully to catch Lucius’s breathy confirmation, and then followed up with, ‘May I come in?’
‘Please,’ he rasped.
Lucius pushed himself up from under the bubbles, where he’d been completely submerged up to his nose and the first thing you saw was his hair – white again, and then that he was littered with bruises along his shoulders and ribs.
You dropped the clothes you’d picked out with a pair of thick socks on the chair opposite the bath and knelt beside the tub, tilting his head toward you with a gentle finger at his chin.
‘Lets get you cleaned up?’
You took the sponge floating by his feet, dabbing gently at his body.
He groaned a little as you stroked over his bruises, soothing his aches with the warm water. His eyes slipped closed and he hummed, low and quiet. Such comforts were a distant and broken memory, but this was overwhelmingly real. He could barely remember if you really loved him by the time he was broken out of that awful place – but you must, mustn’t you? Why else would you do this for him?
He sighed as you pushed his hair over his shoulder; a touch he’d started to remember, but as you pressed the sponge to the lighter bruises at his neck, Lucius jolted back and pushed your hand away.
‘Did I hurt you? I’m sorry-’
‘No,’ he groaned, ‘no you didn’t do anything wrong. I’m sorry.’
‘Your neck- the bruises-’
‘Broken,’ he stated simply. ‘Fractured in the battle.’
‘Battle?’
‘Department of Mysteries.’
You’d heard about it of course. You knew why Lucius had been sent to Azkaban and you knew why the Dark Lord wanted him to stay there, but this was surreal. You’d no idea exactly what injuries he’d sustained, if any, during the battle you’d otherwise heard so much about. You knew who was there, you knew the outcome, you knew what Lucius had done, but you had no idea he’d been so beaten up from it.
‘Has it mended? Do you need me to find you a healer?’ You tried to sound calm and reassuring, but it was coming off concerned no matter how you tried to adjust your tone.
He gestured to his neck with a wave of his hand. ‘Mended. Just sore.’
You nodded. You’d asked too many questions.
You grabbed his favourite shampoo — or at least, used to be his favourite. The contents had reduced significantly while he’d been away. You’d used it a lot in his absence, imagining he was there with you in the bath or shower, and then relished in the scent of jasmine emanating from your hair as a meagre comfort when you laid your head down at night.
Moving around to the back of the tub, you worked a dollop of it into his hair, massaging with a delicate pressure, which you knew you’d got right because, albeit quietly, he moaned and gasped under his breath. You took your time with this, giving him a chance to grow accustomed to your touch again with this familiar ritual, and he hummed, almost the way he used to, when you rinsed the soap out of his hair.
Oh how you wanted to touch him, really touch him, graze your fingers down his bruised torso, reach beneath the water to offer some real relief from all this pain-
Lucius shuddered then, skin prickling with shivers while he was sitting up out of the water, so you left the conditioner for now. A little bit at a time, you told yourself.
Standing with your back to him as though he’d be disgusted by your thoughts, you spoke quietly, drying off your wet hands.
‘I’ve had food sent up for you – you must be starving? I don’t know what they feed you in there – if they fed you at all, but I can’t imagine it was... Sorry, I shouldn’t- anyway, get dressed when you’re ready, there are clothes on the chair. I’ll be waiting outside. We can eat together, and then… well, if you want me to leave you to get some rest, I don’t mind, of course. You’ve been alone for a year, you might need- oh-’
You’d been so busy tripping over your words, you hadn’t noticed the sloshing of the water as he had raised himself out of the bath. He wrapped himself around you, breathing you in just the way he’d done that morning.
Your stomach exploded with butterflies, your eyes slipped shut and you gasped. For a split second he’d never been gone at all and the past year was nothing but a fever dream – until you felt the damp spread of water soaking into your clothes and you were brought hurtling back to the very real present.
‘I’m so, so sorry,’ he whispered, turning you to face him – you’d seen him now, and not rejected him, after all. ‘I left you here for – how long has it been? Months? Years?’
‘Just short of a year. But you didn’t leave me, Lucius, it wasn’t a choice you made-’
‘Every choice I made led up to that day. All that time I thought I was protecting you. So stupid. For the last year I have been thinking of nothing but how I’ve let you down.’
‘No, Luci-’
He shushed you gently, guiding your head to his chest, where it was made to rest. ‘I have a lifetime of atonement yet to begin, but, just for tonight, please, let me show you how hopelessly sorry I am for leaving you alone. Let us have tonight before- well, before whatever comes next.’
‘We can have tonight and every night, if you’ll just let me take care of things.’
His head dropped to yours. How hopeful you were, how strong, whilst he knew there was only one way his return home could go. But you didn’t know that yet. Didn’t know how weak and useless he truly was. So if you only had tonight together, he was determined to make it count.
You gently broke away for the towel, pulling it up and around his shoulders.
‘I didn’t know you could grow a beard,’ you smiled, an attempt to lighten the mood.
‘I haven’t seen it,’ he said simply, something of your old banter igniting in him. ‘Is it… becoming?’
‘So becoming I fear we can’t let you out with it. Witches and wizards will throw themselves at you. You won’t be able to go anywhere without a screaming crowd around you at all times.’
He smirked, and then, ‘I don’t want to go anywhere ever again.’ He spoke sincerely, a little more sobered and suddenly dying to kiss you.
‘Then don’t,’ you soothed, guiding him over to the mirror where you cleared the condensation with your sleeve.
You saw horror blooming in his eyes as he took in his appearance. The gaunt cheeks, the grey complexion. It was all so very far away from what he remembered of himself, which was very little after a year with dementors praying on his every thought, but it was slowly falling back into place and this reflection did not fit.
‘I need to get rid of it,’ he said, eyes wide. ‘Please, I-’
‘Okay, it’s alright, we can do that,’ you reassured. ‘Do you trust me?’
Lucius did trust you. With everything in his heart and what was left of his mind, the one thing he was absolutely sure of was that he trusted you completely. He nodded, perching on the edge of the tub, waiting diligently.
‘I promise I’ll be gentle,’ you soothed, rummaging for what you’d need in the cabinet and setting it out beside him.
Lucius relaxed a little as you smoothed shaving foam over his face, his eyes trained on yours. You paused when you tilted your head to spread some foam under his jaw, and caught a glimpse of the other side of his neck.
Not just bruises, but a series of symbols and numbers stared back at you in permanent ink, branding him a resident of Azkaban Prison. You tried not to show a reaction — you weren’t even sure if Lucius knew about it.
His hand came up to yours and he guided your fingers to it.
‘I know, and I’m sorry,’ he sniffled, voice cracking. ‘I’m nothing but a convict. I wouldn’t blame you if- if you wanted to leave me for-’
Tears tricked down his cheeks, making deep rivulets in the foam you’d applied.
‘Never,’ you whispered, covering the mark in shaving foam, and steadying yourself, you picked up the razor. ‘Hold really still.’
You carefully skimmed the blade over his jaw, one slow, smooth swipe at a time.
Lucius felt his heart rate increase as you worked, holding off from touching you. It was painful to have you so close like this again and not be able to carry you to the bed and have his way – and your way, more than once – with you.
‘There,’ you smiled, wiping the remaining foam off his chin with a towel as you finished up. ‘Just like new.’
Lucius blinked his gaze away. He’d never felt so self conscious, so uncomfortable under your gaze, because he didn’t deserve it. He didn’t deserve your attention, your care, your love. He didn’t deserve to touch you, but Merlin did he want to.
You tilted his chin up, bending to brush his lips with yours.
A sense of security flooded through him, the discomfort slipping away, because despite it all you wanted him — really wanted him, whether he deserved it or not, and although dizzyingly weak, he pushed up until he was standing, towel left behind on the edge of the tub and arms around you again. He hummed against your mouth, but just as he parted his lips to deepen the kiss, you pulled back.
Ah. Of course. Stupid of him, really.
‘Get dressed, Lucius,’ you whispered, stroking his face, but the simple affection did nothing to calm the storm in his mind that you were just being kind and wanted him nowhere near you; not like that anyway.
He stared at you silently as you cleared away the razor and towels and drained the bath.
‘I’ll be right outside.’
Lucius’s lips quivered. It felt almost final. Get dressed. I don’t want to look at you anymore. That kiss was pity – I don’t actually want to touch you, who would ever want you now?
He took a slow, deep breath. How different life would be from now on. There was a time you couldn’t keep your hands off one another and now you were leaving him naked and mid-kiss, telling him to dress, where once you’d have torn his clothes off to have him like this even for a quickie.
He couldn’t blame you, but that didn’t mean it didn’t sting.
His hair was beginning to dry, tussled and untamed, and he felt different, and he couldn’t tell if that was good or bad, but he didn’t have the energy to decide so he left it and looked at the clothes you’d left for him. His eyebrows raised.
He didn’t usually go in for loungewear, as you called it. It was either bespoke robes in expensive fabrics or nothing, and you’d got the best of both worlds.
The sweatshirt and joggers were surprisingly soft, though, and he liked that. He slipped them on, wiggling his toes into the thick socks and feeling sort of… warm? Comfortable? This was a luxury he’d never tried and he wondered why he’d avoided it.
You saw the look of disdain cross his features when he emerged from the bathroom. You could almost hear him. ‘Muggle clothes?’ he would have sneered not so long ago, and you bit your lips together to keep from laughing at that.
He looked so soft and cosy, though, perhaps the softest you’d ever seen him, and you wanted to snuggle into him like this.
He took a seat by the fire in the armchair opposite yours and you slid from your spot to kneel at his feet, carefully gathering some cheese from the plate you’d had sent up and holding it by his lips.
He winced when he bit into it. It was like he’d forgotten how food tasted, but his eyes rolled back when the flavours began to spread over his tongue and familiar tastes flooded back to him.
You held the glass of brandy to his lips next. He was accustomed to a glass of wine with his meals, but tonight definitely called for something stronger, something warming to steady his nerves, and so he took that too, snatching the glass from you mid-sip to down the whole thing in one and catching his breath before his next bite of food.
‘You don’t have to do this,’ he uttered after his second cracker with cheese.
‘I know,’ you said simply, ‘I want to.’
A sharp breath and another tear trickling onto his cheek.
You handed him the glass of water. It sloshed a little in the glass as his grip steadied and when you were sure he had it, you laid your head in his lap as he sipped, carefully and slowly this time.
‘The fire feels… incredible,’ he breathed eventually, stretching out his legs and placing a hand in your hair. Just like he would have before. He placed the glass down and closed his eyes for just a moment, feeling content for the first time in months. After what felt to him like only a few seconds, you were gently nudging him awake.
He wasn’t sure where he was at first, bolting up with a shout, expecting pain, torture, anguish, but your face came into focus and he whimpered, relaxing again.
‘Lucius,’ you whispered, ‘let’s go to bed. You need rest.’
He smiled sadly at you, and you took his arm, guiding him to the old four poster.
Plumping his pillows, you made sure his neck was supported, and sweeping his hair away you covered him with the duvet, pressing your lips lightly to his forehead.
You looked away to ask, ‘Do you want me to-’
‘Stay,’ he said, voice simmering with need, and to his delight, you climbed in beside him and stripped down to your underwear. ‘If you need some space, it’s okay,’ you said, leaning over and pecking his cheek.
Muscle memory must have taken over, that or sheer impassioned necessity, because Lucius turned to you, taking you at your word and capturing your lips with his own, one hand tangling in your hair and the other slipping beneath the duvet to grip your thigh and guide your leg over his waist. He moaned loudly at the way your bodies fit together like this; he hadn’t imagined it. It had all been real.
‘Lucius- are you sure you’re ready? I didn’t expect- you need to get your strength back-’
‘You’re my strength,’ he groaned, pulling you completely flush to him and sliding a hand between.
His fingers were no less skilled for a year away, slipping into you with an achingly perfect rhythm. Your back arched as he grazed over that delicate spot inside, and he chuckled to himself, dragging his fingers out and up to massage your clit with such delicate precision you began to shake; and all this between slow, languid kisses that you were simply drowning in.
He was taking his time with you, fucking you on his fingers slowly to relish in every second of your long awaited pleasure. He’d dreamed of this, when he could. Snippets far and few between the mental torture, he’d pictured your satisfied face, the way you melt at his touch. He’d never failed to please you, and in those moments it felt like the only thing he’d ever got right, the only time he hadn’t been a let down to the Malfoy name – your pleasure was his ultimate success.
He felt you tighten around his finger, your thigh tensing around his waist, and your sweet moan of ecstasy peaking before coming to a drawn out end. Only then did he withdraw, leaving you panting and blissed out against his chest, his weak arms wrapped around you.
He knew he wouldn’t be up to much, he could feel himself leaking into his clothes at the fiction each time you moved, but he needed you wrapped around his length so badly, he felt he’d simply perish without.
He pushed the waistband of these godawful but delightfully comfortable joggers down, moved your underwear aside and guided his length to your entrance, pushing carefully inside.
His face melted into bliss – it was the most like him he had looked all night – and the loudest strangled cry he’d ever let out escaped his throat and you were glad you’d placed silencing charms around the room, or he would have woken the neighbours two miles over.
He buried his face into your shoulder, rolling his hips into yours, slow and soft, once, twice, and then with a low groan, rutted a little faster for a few thrusts before emptying into you with a guttural, needy moan, fighting not to sob through his release.
He curled up against you, breathless. When his trembling came to a stop and you thought he’d fallen into a peaceful slumber, you breathed, ‘I finally have you again.’
Lucius stirred, though, and his low voice rumbled through your chest. ‘I haven’t even told you how I got out.’
‘There’s time for that yet,’ you said, hushed.
‘I owe you so much,’ he sniffled and you tightened your arms around him, stroking a hand though his soft, wavy hair.
Summary: Post-war Lucius is a different man, embarking on a new adventure; finding himself for the first time. With you, he learns to reframe the marks left on his body from the mistakes of his past.
Authors notes: This is an adapted chapter from my Snape fic Prince's Cosmetics which you can read from the start here. In that fic, Lucius is paired with Morgan who is sharp witted, good humoured, smart, stubborn and sometimes snobbish. In this version he is paired with the reader. I often think of Lucius's part in that chapter and thought it would be nice for those not wanting a fic with OCs to enjoy my version of post-war Lucius. It's all in fun, and I've had to take quite a few liberties, but hopefully it can be enjoyed as a standalone! My Lucius was created by Jason Isaacs; I don't support j k r in any way, and take pride in the fact that she would hate this!
Warnings and content: NSFW, sex, hand job, blow job, premature ejaculation, Lucius is insatiable and once he gets hard he stays hard (it's been a while, ok?), Snape has a bad date experience, post-war Lucius redemption, hinted Snucius, dark mark kink? kinda, fluff and smut!
Snape tore after his date. You were still with Lucius, however, and you did not intend to let the night slip away simply because it hadn’t gone well for your friends.
After an appropriate length of silence in the wake of the awkward conversation you’d cringed through, you tucked Lucius’s shiny platinum hair behind his ear. He hummed; half in agreement, half in an attempt not to whimper at your soft touch. It had been a while since anyone had touched him like that, and he wished he could ask for more, wished he had the courage to tilt his head into your palm and keep you there. A shiver licked up your spine when you heard the neediness in the sound he made.
‘Well, that was a great excuse for us to leave too, don’t you think?’ you whispered, fingertips still combing through Lucius’s locks.
Lucius gasped at the butterflies soaring around his stomach. It was an odd feeling, one he didn't miss from the days he had pined for Snape whilst promised and later betrothed to Narcissa, but now he was free to experience attraction, desire, and perhaps even love in whatever way he wished. He felt unfathomably free.
‘You place or mine?’ you asked, and the hand at Lucius’s hair dropped to inch up his thigh.
‘Are you sure you want-’ he breathed, his voice turning into a whine before he could finish the sentence. Me, he thought. Are you sure you want me?
‘I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,’ you growled, biting your lip to stop from pressing your mouth to Lucius’s in front of the whole restaurant. You feared that if you began kissing him, you wouldn’t be able to stop.
Lucius delved into a pocket of his trousers and shakily produced a pile of galleons – far more than would have been necessary – which he dropped onto the table. His voice darkened deliciously when he leaned in to whisper, ‘Hold on to me.’
You did not need to be asked twice, winking at the waiter who was just about to place your main course down on the table as you both vanished.
You appeared together mere seconds later, in exactly the same position; your ankles tangled around his, one hand resting on his thigh as the other snaked around his waist, faces barely an inch apart, but you were now perched on the edge of Lucius’s soft bed.
He may have been humbled through his recent experiences but his sheets were of the finest linen and there were numerous tasteful, decorative cushions placed perfectly along the extravagantly plush pillows.
Your palm teased at travelling further up Lucius’s leg, but just before he began to tremble with an overwhelming swell of anticipation, you pulled it away to stroke slowly down his cheek instead, stopping a moment for your fingertips to admire his sharp cheekbones.
‘You’ve probably heard this a thousand times before, but you’re so handsome I can barely stand it.’ Your voice was low and seductive, like honey dripping into his ear.
‘If you can’t stand it, then why is your gaze so intense?’ he smirked, always having been one to relish in a compliment.
‘Because you’re captivating,’ you cooed, ‘and I want you. I want you in more ways than I can count.’
‘Then you should start a list,’ Lucius drawled, ‘and perhaps we can cross a few things off it tonight.’ He cocked an eyebrow. The motion came naturally to him, but this interaction was unlike any he’d experienced before.
Your lips finally collided with his and you shifted your position to straddle Lucius and push him down onto the pile of soft cushions. He dropped back easily, melting at your touch like putty in your hands, and his platinum hair fell beautifully over the dark green velvet in a stark but pretty contrast.
You could feel Lucius’s arousal pressing against the inside of your thigh already. You rolled your hips to drag your core over his length, huffing a gentle laugh at the tingle of pleasure licking up through your body and the satisfaction of how much he wanted you, too.
‘Fuck, you’re so hard for me already, Luci?’ you panted as you kissed up his jaw.
Lucius gave a quick nod. He lacked the breath to find his voice while you were pressing your heat against his aching cock like that, plus, the weight of you on top of him rendered his mind so clouded that he doubted he could form a single word in any event.
This wasn’t the norm. He had always been the one in control, almost always the dominant partner in intimate activities, and he could last for hours. He prided himself on his prowess as a lover. Yet tonight, he found himself begging and panting and wondering whether he would actually manage to get undressed before cumming.
Somehow he eventually managed a strangled, ‘Please.’
‘Don’t worry, I know it’s been a while,’ you cooed, and Lucius simply whined in reply. ‘I’ll give you what you need… you do need to cum, don’t you, Luci?’
A whimpered, ‘Yes,’ slipped from between his parted lips before you slid your tongue into his mouth.
You pushed a hand between your clothed bodies and rubbed firmly at his length over the fabric, swallowing the moans that tumbled into your mouth until his hands appeared at your shoulders, pushing you up.
‘Luci, what’s wrong?’
‘I- I’m going to-’
‘It’s alright, I want you to cum for me… fuck look at you,’ you bit your lip again in sheer lust this time.
A needy blush crept over his cheeks, his grey eyes grew heavy and his broad chest heaved. You could barely wait a second longer to see his handsome face display the pleasure of his release.
He groaned impatiently as he reached down to fumble with his trousers, but you took over, palming him over his underwear momentarily before springing his length free. You couldn’t help but gasp in delight at his size.
‘That’s better,’ you sighed, wrapping your fingers around his thick cock. You pumped hard and fast until Lucius’s hips were bucking up to meet your ministrations while his eyes screwed shut in utter bliss.
A long, drawn out, ‘Fuuuck,’ left his swollen lips as a hot rope of cum shot over his expensive jacket. He didn't care about that, though. He’d forgotten how good it felt to cum from someone else’s touch, and how exciting it was for them to learn his body and all the ways it liked to be touched.
In his haze of bliss, Lucius didn’t particularly pay much notice to you sliding down his body, but soon jolted up when he felt a mildly familiar heat washing over him.
You had taken his softening cock into your mouth, tonguing at the sensitive flesh as if to clean away his all-too-recent orgasm.
Lucius groaned and fell back against the cushions again, throwing his arms up above his head in surrender to the pleasure.
You absolutely worshipped his cock with your mouth, keeping him hard, and he hoped he’d eventually have the stamina to show you his skill in return, but right now he was close again. Your tongue was swirling around his tip while your hand lazily massaged the base, and, oversensitive, he simply couldn’t continue thinking. He couldn’t make sense of anything except, ‘Fuck- mmh…’
You hummed at the generous sounds of pleasure that tumbled from his lips, fighting the urge to slip your free hand between your legs and relieve the build up of pressure there. You wanted to save that for him, let him feel how wet you were for him.
Lucius dared to slide a hand into your hair, and feeling the movement of your affections swiftly brought about his second peak, shooting thick and fast into the back of your throat.
You were by his side only seconds later, smug as you swallowed his seed and watched him catch his breath.
Lucius groaned your name weakly, unable to fully open his eyes just yet. In truth, he could sleep for days after that release. ‘Whatever did I do to deserve that?’
‘You mean aside from being absolutely stunning, and me needing to see your orgasm face?’
A devilish grin took over from the twitching at the corners of his lips. ‘I must be truly irresistible.’
‘Hmm. Enemies to lovers, I believe it’s called.’
‘Enemies to lovers? Merlin. Have you been reading Sev’s old romance novels?’ Lucius chuckled.
‘Sev reads romance?’ you exclaimed, curiosity distracting you for a moment.
‘Oh yes. I often found books folded to his favourite pages under his pillow when he would stay with me for the summer… anyhow,’ – Lucius’s expression turned from mildly dreamy to curious – ‘stop changing the subject. I hardly think I deserved to cum twice in such close succession when I still haven’t touched you.’
‘Oh, I think so.’
‘What makes you so sure?’
You thought for a moment. ‘I’ve heard about you. My friends were telling me what they’d learned about Sev, post-war, and I… I asked about you, much to their delight; they seem to think we’d be a match made in heaven.’
‘And are we not?’
‘I didn’t think so at first, but after we met that soon changed. Hence, enemies to lovers.’
‘A little dramatic, perhaps.’
You felt his fingers travelling between your legs, and allowed it but whispered, ‘You can rest if you need to, Luci. You were so good for me.’
Lucius felt his limp cock twitch at the praise, unsure whether he could manage another round, but, to his delight, he felt the familiar pull of another erection and pressed his fingers harder against your core. You hissed at the sweet relief it provided.
‘What I need,’ Lucius growled, his eyes dragging over your pleasure-softened features, ‘is to make you cum. Several times, if you’ll oblige.’
He removed his hand to reach for his wand, and you groaned at the sudden lack of contact.
He magicked you nude with a lazy wave, humming in satisfaction as he drank in every inch of you.
‘Can we remove these?’ you begged, pulling at his clothes and with another flick of his wand his trousers vanished.
‘That’s better, but what about the rest?’ you pleaded.
Lucius’s lustful expression faltered. He felt weak, and disgusted with himself for letting you pleasure him, and so eagerly, too, when you didn’t know the full truth about him. ‘What exactly did your friends tell you about me?’
‘They told me how brave you are,’ – you leaned forward to peck softly at Lucius’s lips – ‘how you helped Sev after it all died down. Like a knight in shining armour,’ – you trailed a hand up to the top button of his shirt – ‘how you’ve been separated for a while and…’
Lucius winced. He felt so exposed, so vulnerable, that he was almost nauseous with the weight of it all.
‘I’m sorry-’ you started, sobering from your haze of desire, ‘I didn’t mean to-’
‘No, it’s not that,’ he sighed, averting his eyes in shame. ‘How much do you know about… my past?’
‘Well, I know you were a Death Eater if that’s what you’re getting at,’ you said plainly. Lucius’s stomach churned. ‘And that you went to Azkaban.’ Lucius cringed at hearing those words, too. ‘But I didn’t think you’d want me to bring that up while I’m trying to get you off for a third time… wait, is that why you don’t want to take your clothes off?’
Lucius blushed, somehow more ashamed than ever. If only the floor could swallow him whole.
‘Oh, Luci, I’m sorry. I didn’t think.’
Lucius’s eyes snapped back to meet yours. ‘There is not a thing for you to be sorry for. I, on the other hand, have approximately one thousand years worth of atoning yet to begin. If you regret your- our- what we just did, I’ll understand. I won’t tell a soul.’
‘Regret?’ you snorted. ‘You’re joking right? I already knew, Lucius. I knew before we met, before you asked me out tonight, before I said yes, before I cancelled a date the other night because I couldn’t stop thinking about you-’
‘You did what?’ Lucius breathed.
‘Cancelled a date,’ you shrugged. ‘It wouldn’t have been fair for me to lead him on knowing that I would only end the night telling him it wouldn’t ever work.’
‘Because of me?’ Lucius appeared mildly horrified, but there was a twinge of pride there, too. Pride that would grow.
‘Entirely because of you.’
Lucius blinked through a barrage of thoughts that began fighting their way to the forefront of his mind, settling on a simple question he wasn’t sure he could face the answer to. ‘Doesn’t it bother you?’
‘That I cancelled a date with someone I’d never met, and frankly, who I thought would most likely stand me up anyway?’ you laughed, stroking Lucius’s cheek.
‘No, not that – that I’m a convict… that I’m a – I was a Death Eater?’ It was painful to spit the words out. His eyes turned watery as they gazed longingly into yours.
‘A little,’ you mused, ‘I mean, it’d be pretty weird if it didn’t bother me at all, right? But I trust my friends, Luci. I’ve been told you’re a good man now, and I am certain you’ll show me as much.’
‘Kiss me,’ Lucius uttered, and so followed a languid, slow and tender kiss that seemed to last a lifetime as you melted together.
In the midst of the conversation, Lucius had lost his third arousal, but it didn’t matter. It wasn’t about that anymore.
As much as he wanted you, and wanted to satisfy you, he had never before realised that what he craved the most was understanding, and perhaps validation. With Sev, he had found comfort and peace, and with Narcissa, he had found power and glory, and here with you, he was finally finding the truth of who he really was. And if you were right, perhaps he would learn to like himself, too, after all?
Amidst the kiss, your fingers toyed lazily with the buttons at his chest. He didn’t shy away this time.
‘We don’t need to – if you need some time to adjust, I mean-’ he said quietly during a pause to catch his breath, while your lips still brushed against his.
You chuckled. ‘You came twice in half an hour, Luci. I’m definitely not the one who might need time.’ You reached down as if to prove a point but was met with yet another raging erection, precum already leaking from the tip. ‘Fuck. Well, I might need time to adjust to your size.’
You pushed him onto his back and climbed on top of him, noticed his satisfied smirk, and continued to undress him, straddling his hips just close enough that if you were to move your own, the heat between your legs would meet with his – without the barrier of fabric this time.
‘Are you sure you’re ready for me to see?’ Your fingers slipping open Lucius’s buttons ceased their work for a moment.
Lucius silently reached for his wand again, pressing the tip to his chest and dragging it slowly down past his stomach until the fabric covering his torso had disintegrated in a smoky haze.
He raised his left forearm, watching your eyes closely to gauge your reaction. He wasn’t sure exactly what he wanted to see in them, but he needed to know the truth of whatever would appear in their sparkling depths.
You took his arm tenderly in your hands, inspecting the dark mark that still branded his pale flesh.
‘It’s rather more faded than I expected,’ you said simply. ‘Does it ever hurt?’
‘No,’ Lucius said, pleasantly surprised that your question was far more pragmatic than emotional. ‘It only ever hurt when he called on us. And… a little when we received them.’
‘Good hurt?’ you said, not taking your eyes off the mark, but raising an eyebrow.
Lucius almost choked. How could he explain it? ‘Well… in a way, I suppose-’
‘So let’s say you were getting intimate with someone and the mark started hurting…’
Your eyes were dark and filled with a curiosity that set desire aflame within Lucius. He’d never been asked about this before. Never discussed it. Narcissa, who never had the mark burned into her own skin, had never spoken to him much about his own.
He knew the answer to your question, of course. Just like he knew how it would have felt when Sev received his own dark mark, and Lucius had hoped Sev thought of him whilst the ritual took place.
‘That would have felt…’ he began, but you interrupted by sliding your tongue over the flesh where the mark barely remained, and he faltered. ‘Fucking incredible…’ he moaned.
You shifted her hips forward then, and your warm slick finally coated his length. His eyes rolled back and a loud groan erupted from his throat, followed by a hiss as you scraped your teeth over his sensitive forearm, sending sparks of pleasure between his core and the site of his mark.
‘Do you want to find out how it might have felt?’
‘Fuck yes,’ he whined, and you lifted your hips to sink down onto him slowly, a little at a time, as you adjusted to his size just as you predicted you might have to.
His earlier pleasure had been somewhat hurried; he simply needed you to make him cum, and you knew it. Your hand had worked fast and your mouth had worked faster, but this time you were taking it slow, rocking your hips in a motion that had Lucius completely hypnotised.
With each precise roll, he felt his third release growing ever closer, and wondered whether he had a fourth in him, too. Perhaps he could fuck you, hard and fast like he had been accustomed to – but this felt far too good to worry about what the next time might be like. This felt new, like nothing else he had felt before, and he wanted to savour every moment.
He watched you licking and nibbling at his faded mark, the mark he’d been terrified to look at since it had all come to an end, and he found it harder and harder to hold back.
You moaned, bringing Lucius back to reality for a moment, ‘Fuck, I need you to cum inside me…’
Seeing how he came undone so easily, you wouldn’t last much longer yourself. You sped up, biting down on his forearm hard enough to leave a mark of your own making over the old one.
‘Fuck – cum for me, Luci-’
Your teeth sunk hard into his tender flesh once more, sending a jolt of pleasure-pain through his body.
This, along with your needy request was all he needed to tip him over the edge into another orgasm, filling you to the brim with his seed as you clenched around him through your own intense release.
You laid together for a while, you alternating between stroking at Lucius’s mark and combing your fingers through his hair as he rested against your chest.
‘You really don’t mind my mark?’ Lucius whispered, nuzzling into your neck with a gentle sigh.
‘Of course not. It’s done, you can’t erase it. But you can reframe it. And now when you look at it, you’ll see me riding you instead of your regrets,’ you said with a sly twist of your lips.
‘There’s no doubt about that,’ Lucius chuckled, impressed with your reasoning.
He lifted his arm to consider the faded twisting snake.
‘Well?’ you prompted.
‘Yes, it works alright. What about this one?’ His fingers traced the prisoner number branded into his neck; ᛟᚫ537.
Your fingers brushed his aside to caress the ink, and he sighed. ‘We still have time to work on that one,’ you whispered into his hair.
‘There’s only one problem with all this, though.’
‘Oh?’
‘Every time I look at my mark, and I see you, what am I going to do about the inevitable arousal it’ll cause me? I’ll get hard every time I take my clothes off.’
‘There’s a point. I suppose you’ll just have to come and find me, then, won’t you? Naked and hard, just how I like you,’ you laughed.
‘You- you want to see me again?’ Lucius stuttered.
‘I’m already desperate to, and I haven't even left yet.’ It was a jovial but sincere admission, and Lucius’s heart skipped a beat to hear it. ‘Speaking of which, I should probably-’
‘Stay,’ he said simply.
You placed tender kisses over Lucius’s soft hair until he shifted up to playfully graze your nose with his, and his lips ghosted against yours, sweet and chaste.
Colonel William Tavington x fem!reader - 500 words
✦ Summary: Tavington is used to taking what he wants. Perhaps you can give him what he needs.
✦ Author's notes: I watched The Patriot with some friends for the first time and the Jason content was so tasty I woke up the next day and immediately wrote this. I feel like there's definitely scope for more, so I might write a second part? We'll see!
✦ Warnings/content: nsfw, creampie, rough sex, Tavington is a selfish lover (for now), no plot/gets straight to the smut, reader is described as a woman & has breasts
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
The Colonel reached up to tuck a loose curl behind your ear, eyes burning into yours as he slowly trailed a finger down from your ear to your collarbone, humming delightedly at the shiver you gave in response. As you steeled yourself against his gaze, his finger continued to move down, stopping just above the soft contour of your corseted breasts.
‘Yes?’ he asked, almost lazily.
‘You’re asking for my permission? And here I was thinking you simply took what you wanted without concern.’
‘I might get what I want, but I prefer my women to be willing,’ he sneered. ‘And if you’re not, I can assure you there will be ten others who are.’
Ah, you noted, he needs to feel wanted.
‘Colonel Tavington,’ you said, watching his jaw twitch at the way you used his title so casually, ‘you may do with me whatever you wish.’
You saw the way the breath left his body, and the next thing you knew you’d been thrown to the bed, Tavington above you, your face gripped in one hand while his other frantically pulled up your skirts.
He made quick work of unfastening and moving aside enough layers to slide himself inside you. His eyes closed at how soft and wet you felt around him, but not for long before snapping his hips, rough and fast, allowing no time for you to adjust to his size.
The burn of his cock stretching and filling you was so delicious that you moaned loudly despite yourself, and his eyes sparkled at the sound. His lips crashed to yours, but it wasn’t a kiss, not really. He was simply claiming your lips like he was claiming the rest of you. He probably thought he was being soft and vulnerable, but in reality this was the point where he took what he wanted without concern, unrelentingly so. And oh, it was so incredibly hot.
You didn’t imagine he’d be the type to pay much mind to your pleasure as he slammed into you hard over and over, chasing his own release as the bed creaked and banged harshly against the wall. But there was a coil tightening in your core with the burn of each sharp thrust.
You wrapped your legs tight around his waist, heels digging into his lower back, and when he began to grunt and moan along with the rapid rocking of his hips, that coil sprang free, sending waves of pleasure coursing overwhelmingly through your body.
Your eyes snapped shut while every muscle in your body tensed and relaxed, nails clawing at his uniform and your walls clenching around his thickness. When your eyes blinked open you saw an incredulous expression pulling at his brow, curiosity shining in his too-blue eyes.
To your surprise he slowed his pace, groaning as your walls twitched with aftershocks around him, and with a final, gentle roll of his hips he stilled, emptying inside you as his head dropped to yours.
Chest heaving, he took a pause to collect himself and when he could see clearly again he pulled out and climbed off the bed, turning his back to you as he tucked his softening cock into his trousers and smoothed a loose strand of hair back into place.
You watched him patiently, something like uneasiness growing tangibly in the air between you as you waited to watch him walk away. But you were biting your lip, and decided you might as well speak up if he was going to leave anyway.
‘Never made a woman come before?’ you dared to ask, breaking the silence.
He whipped his head around, that familiar sneer pulling at his lips, brow furrowed, and voice dropping dangerously low. ‘How dare you sugges-’
‘Want to do it again?’
With a steadying breath he considered your proposal carefully, eyes roaming your face and body, his jaw tensing.
‘Perhaps it... could be arranged.’ He tried to sound sure of himself but it came off needy and he huffed.
‘Same time tomorrow?’
‘Fine.’
He stole out of the room visibly flustered and you relaxed back onto the bed, satisfied. You could teach him a thing or two.
𝜗ৎ Summary: Everything is about to change for Lucius, and a year later, you'll be there to pick up the pieces. Starting shortly before the battle at the Department of Mysteries, the story will end up set in the aftermath of Lucius's subsequent stay in Azkaban.
𝜗ৎ Author's notes: I wanted to write a longer fic based around this for Lucius, so here's the first part - a short prologue to the main part of the story. It's probably self indulgent, but it's fun and I'm gonna put him through it a little bit (then make it better). He will be pathetic. No disrespect to Narcissa, I love you but I want your husband so bad I needed to make this a reader fic. See, I told you - self indulgent. Title inspired by Meet Me in the Woods by Lord Huron.
𝜗ৎ Content/warnings: nsfw/not overly explicit, not entirely canon compliant (due to Lucius being paired with reader), more warnings to be added in later parts.
Endless summer nights or cold, dark winter evenings, soft silk sheets on wanting skin, delicate touches simmering with desire; Lucius Malfoy would never waste a single night where you were concerned.
As a man who lived the most decadent lifestyle money and status could afford; the finest robes, a palatial manor, a collection of beloved forbidden artefacts, good food and even better wine, this of course included those other pleasures of the flesh he could scarcely fall asleep without.
But sleep was the last thing on Lucius’s mind when he climbed into bed with you each evening – or, fell into the sheets with you kissing him madly, or carried you into the master bedroom to place you lovingly on the fourposter and undress you with the most elegant fingers you’d ever feel.
Then there were the nights you tore your clothes from one another, hungry and desperate as though it was the first time. It was natural that on those occasions you wouldn’t actually make it to the bed, so caught up in one another you’d simply drop to the floor and end up tangled on the bearskin before the blazing fireplace, skin glowing warmly in the crackling firelight.
Only the most exquisite pleasure would do for Lucius, you see, and so there never was a less than satisfactory night, because despite what many thought of him (and you’d heard plenty), more than anything he enjoyed sharing the finer things in life with you. His body, and what he could do to yours, being the finest.
It would never be enough, of course; he’d always strive for more no matter how satisfied he knew you were, some nights, over and over until your legs were shaking too much to stand and eventually he would carry you to the bath, where he would relish in holding you against his chest. Soaking with you in the warm, silky water, the delicate hands that had caressed you in bliss now tenderly massaged your sensitive flesh with a careful, soothing pressure, until you were ready to fall into a well-deserved sleep nestled against his chest in bed, with the soft scent of jasmine fresh on his skin.
And why should tonight be any different?
Tomorrow, Lucius would fail at retrieving the prophecy from the Department of Mysteries, but for now at least it would be just the two of you basking in the familiar heaven the other had to offer.
You’d brushed his hair in the morning, smoothed down his robes and listened to his gentle hum as your hands ran slowly over his clothed body.
He wrapped his arms securely around you and pressed his lips to your hair, inhaling your scent as though it might be the last time.
‘Now, now,’ he smirked, playfully admonishing you in that silky, simmering voice of his, ‘you’ll have me later.’
the freckles in our eyes are mirror images (and when we kiss they're perfectly aligned)
Dr. Hunter Aloysius ‘Hap’ Percy x Prairie Johnson - 2.3k words - part 1/2
✶ Summary: Prairie has been curious about Hap, and he’s been extremely curious about her. When he opens the door to let her get a taste of the outside world, she follows her instinct. Or, the scene where Prairie makes a sandwich but done a little differently.
✶ Author's notes: Been sitting on this one for a while and decided to post. Basically I love them both, no notes! Title inspiration from here.
✶ Warnings/content: NSFW, handjob, creampie, premature ejaculation, Prairie doesn't get to cum (yet), pathetic Hap, if you're reading this you probably know Hap is keeping Prairie captive to experiment on her so all the usual don't do this sort of freak at home type warnings I guess!
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
Hap was hesitant. Prairie could sense his skittishness from a mile off, of course, but there was his sincerity, too. He really wanted her to have this, for her to experience the sun on her skin and the air flowing fresh into her lungs and over her face, just like she’d asked for. She deserved it, he thought.
He trusted Prairie. Half way at least. There was something special about her – she wouldn’t be here if there wasn’t, but something different too. She wasn’t like the others.
There had been some nights since she arrived that Hap had neglected to take his sleeping pills, thinking about her to fall asleep instead. He’d done it too often, perhaps, but it was soothing. He thought about her soft, interested expression when he’d explained his research, the way her hand felt under his when he’d guided it to the fries, the way she’d smiled, awed at the invention he shared with her.
He knew the dangers of allowing thoughts like these to take over but he couldn't seem to deny himself. He’d never felt quite so alive since she walked into his life and straight into his trap, so willingly, so gracefully.
He tore his gaze away from her expectant face and slipped the key into the lock.
Prairie heard the click of the key turning and the latch moving in and out of place. Of course she had the thought Now’s my chance — who wouldn’t in her position? and then, He needs to trust me first. Wait.
The hinges creaked and a sting of fresh air tingled against Prairie’s skin, rippling through her hair while the glow of weak sun wrapped around her like a blanket warming the cool of the breeze and she sighed.
Hap watched her eyebrows raised, her shoulders drop, her jaw turning just a little slack, awed at the way she melted into the simple feeling. He had taken these things for granted every day — could he feel like this too? Could she teach him?
Prairie hesitated now. The rush had subsided and she was able to think completely clearly for the first time since she was brought here. Her stomach clenched and she realised she was hungry — for real food, anyway, and she knew Hap had it within reaching distance. She could smell the warmth of freshly sliced bread in this very room.
Then there was that other, more nagging thought.
She took a small, careful step forward and Hap shifted uncomfortably. She wasn’t close enough to touch him yet, but close enough that she could try to run if she wanted to. She supposed it was only natural it might make him a little skittish.
Hap watched her, eyes wide. For a moment he had to actually keep her from getting out, overcome instead with wanting to reach out to her, pull her to him, hold her there… fuck this was precisely why he shouldn’t indulge in fantasies about his captive subjects, but it felt so good just to imagine. He deserved that, didn’t he? He’d been good to her, so far at least — she hadn’t given him a reason not to be yet.
Prairie took a final step right into the doorway, fresh air all the fresher from here, but to Hap it felt like all the air had been sucked from his lungs. She was so close he could almost taste her.
Prairie reached forward, fingers finding Hap’s outstretched arm holding the door open for her. Pressing her palm down, she slid her hand up slowly until it was at his bicep, then turned to face him. She squeezed lightly. His arms were muscular and she supposed they would have to be, at least a little, if he needed to exert any force to get the others here.
Her fingers lingered there for a moment too long and he sucked in a sharp breath. Carefully, they travelled further up and traced his jaw, his cheek, his brow, his nose. He was just as handsome as she’d imagined by the sound of his voice. He’d been comforting to listen to, low and calm, and if she was completely honest with herself, kind of sexy, too. Velvety and a little… desperate? It made her wonder how long he’d been living alone here.
Feeling daring with the thrill of the outside world only millimetres away, she pushed her fingers up into his hair and he gasped, immediately snapping his eyes shut in embarrassment. But god it had been a while since anyone had touched him at all, let alone so intimately — or so passionately. And this wasn’t just anyone, this was Prairie. He’d wanted this since he swept her hair back as she listened to his heartbeat on the day they’d met. He wondered if she’d noticed it was beating a little fast then, like it was now.
Sliding her touch back down to his face, she pressed two fingertips to his lips. He parted them without a thought, but she didn’t push them inside the way he anticipated. Instead she traced the outline, lingering on his bottom lip while Hap, breathless, watched her satisfied expression. Did he look the way she’d imagined? Did she like it?
Prairie dropped her hand, and Hap but his lip to keep from whining at the lack of contact. His heart soared, though, when she lifted into her tiptoes, steadied herself with two hands on his strong shoulders, and slowly pressed forward and replaced fingers with lips.
Hap hummed, eyes sliding shut, immediately submitting to her lead. He had always allowed her to lead when he thought about it, and he liked that she had that natural ability, even when he was the one in control. It made him feel safe.
He knew it was technically ethically wrong to kiss the subject of one’s experiment. It was also wrong to allow them to fall in love with you, if love’s what this was, but how could he say no? All she’d done was lightly squeeze his arm, slide her fingers through his hair, trace his lips and look pleased with herself, and he was putty.
This was already better than his fantasies of her. It might be a dangerous game, but it was real, and now she was pressing her body to his, soft and inviting, then drawing her tongue along his bottom lip, and oh shit, he needed to respond, needed to move before she thought he didn’t want this and the moment would vanish forever.
Hap pushed forward, snaking both arms around her waist as they crashed backwards and into the door, and parting his lips again, let her in.
It surprised Hap that Prairie was such a good kisser. He had wondered how experienced she might be and how much he might be able to teach her, but he clearly didn’t need to teach her how to do this. She kissed like she’d known his body’s needs better than he did.
He felt his legs turning weak and held himself up against the door, arms either side of Prairie’s head, freedom all around her while she was trapped right here with him. He smirked against her lips feeling a twitch between his thighs.
He wondered what she’d think of his skill, having kept himself cooped up in the world of his experiment for so long he’d forgotten what it felt like to really want to kiss someone. There’d been one night stands here and there when the opportunity presented, of course; he was only human, but those times had felt nothing like this and had never been at his home or with someone who knew him the way Prairie seemed to.
There was a small glimmer of doubt in his mind. Was she toying with him, weakening him by giving a little incentive so she could get away with more and more until gradually he would let her leave without a fight? He needed to get her inside. Just to be safe. If anyone saw them — if Sheriff Markham of all people made an appearance, Hap would have a lot of explaining to do. And a lot of lying.
But Prairie was tugging his shirt out of his pants and his cock was throbbing for her, and whatever she wanted right now he would give to her without question.
‘Hap,’ she breathed into his mouth, fingers poised at the button of his slacks.
He pressed his forehead to hers and nodded, taking a moment to really appreciate the air against his flesh the way he’d seen Prairie do it. It would never feel the same again after this.
‘We, uh, we need to go inside first,’ he muttered, but she dipped her head and continued that kiss she’d perfected to hungry yet languid, and when her fingers plunged beneath the waistband of his underwear and grazed the slick tip of his cock, he gave in.
‘We need to-oh, oh god-’
‘No,’ she whispered back, ‘here. I need to feel alive.’
Her touch was so delicate, so tender, it drove him wild. His head dropped to hers again and he groaned so prettily that Prairie moaned too as she wrapped her fingers around his length, quickly finding her rhythm.
Oh it was perfect, like she’d been here before, bringing him off so easily, soft and slow just how he liked it, but he’s been imagining this moment for so long he grew impatient, fast.
He rocked his hips, fucking into her fist and losing himself for a moment, but with a reluctant whine he stilled.
The familiar strength of one of Hap’s hands wrapped around Prairie’s wrist, holding her still. She pushed forward to kiss him again, but he turned his head to avoid it and she caught his cheek instead.
‘Prairie, stop- just-’
Prairie tilted her head. Hap was still hard – god, he was leaking, he’d moaned for her, rolled his hips into her touch. What made him stop now? Some threat? She listened intently, but there was nothing new, nothing external anyway.
Hap carefully pulled Prairie’s hand out of his pants, involuntarily grunting at the friction, and gently placed her arm at her side, stumbling back against the doorframe. He took a steadying few breaths and when he opened his eyes, he saw the way her brow had furrowed, the way her eyes and darkened. He mentally scrambled for something to say, anything other than If you keep touching me like that even for a second more it’ll all be over but I want so much more with you.
‘It’s been a while,’ Prairie said thoughtfully, startling him. It was a statement, not a question.
Hap’s cheeks flushed. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I- I just needed a minute. That’s all.’
‘So what I was doing… it wasn’t bad?’
Hap reached out and gripped her arms. ‘No. God, Prairie no, it was good. It was really, really fucking good, that’s why I- oh, fuck it-’
Hap pinned Prairie to the door again, kissing her with such heat that she moaned into it, hurriedly hitching her dress up and hooking a leg around Hap’s waist.
He fumbled with his pants, dropping them to his ankles before his clumsy fingers pushed her underwear aside. Taking a moment to relish, with a low hum, how wet she was for him, he slid his length inside. Hap’s eyes rolled back as Prairie sank down, adjusting to his size. It felt to Hap like she was made for him.
Prairie felt his shaky breath against her ear the way she’d felt the fresh air on her face, new and thrilling; he hadn’t even moved yet and he sounded like he was on the brink of orgasm. Prairies core clenched at the thought.
She pushed a hand into his hair again, soothing and safe. ‘Hap, it’s okay, you can- uhgh!’
While she spoke he slowly pulled half way out then slammed back in, hard. Once, twice, a third time. She held onto him tight as he trembled against her, his fingertips driving into her thigh and waist hard enough to bruise, and with a fourth quick snap of his hips, he bit down on the crook of her neck to disguise his cries of relief as his body convulsed and he spilled into her.
Prairie’s own aching core was left empty when he pulled out, heaving for breath against her shoulder. His shaky hands loosened their grip and Prairies leg dropped down. She could feel his seed dripping out onto her thigh and his tears dampening her chest where he’d sobbed against her.
Prairie watched Hap stumble into the kitchen and sink to the floor in a heap. She straightened herself out; underwear slipped back into place however uncomfortably cool and damp, dress smoothed out, hair flattened back. She could still feel the burn where his size had stretched her, but no one else would know that.
Hap sobbed. He wouldn’t blame her for running now while she had the chance. Who wouldn’t leave after that pathetic display? He swallowed hard, mustering the strength to look up, and when he lifted his head, she was gone. Not outside though. The door to the outside creaked shut, and he turned to see Prairie waiting patiently by the door to the cellar.
The code. She didn’t have the code.
Hap dragged himself up, facing away for whatever paltry shred of dignity it might offer, to hastily pull up his pants. He didn’t bother to smooth his hair or tuck in his ruffled shirt. As soon as he took Prairie downstairs, he planned to come back up here and collapse onto his bed anyway. It didn’t matter if the others saw him like this. Prairie wouldn’t tell them anything.
Forcing his breath slow, he punched in the code and reached for the door handle. Prairie’s hand slipped softly over his, squeezing lightly. She leant in to kiss him on the lips just long enough to make him lightheaded.
She pulled open the door and led the way downstairs. Hap followed.
Chapters: One - Two - Three - Four - Five - Six - Eight
On AO3 here
(Edit - noticed a couple of typos and fixed them on the AO3 version!)
Summary: Snape and Tammy give in to a little fantasy, and Lucius battles with his past - and his future. Snape and Lucius solve the small problem of the mystery item that has the potential to bring Voldemort back.
Notes: As usual, it's been a while. I've been taking much more of a break than I usually allow myself, and I'm feeling better for it. I hope that's reflected in my writing, although as usual I've agonised over this chapter so if I don't post it now I fear I never will. We're so close to the end, and I'm so excited to get there. Also, this fic won third place in the Favourite Snape x OC Fic category of the @snapedomawards 2022. It was an honour to be part of the awards, but to be nominated and voted for - and for this fic, which I adore, was truly wonderful. Thank you, readers, my beloveds.
Warnings: mentions of snucius (Snape x Lucius), NSFW - teacher/student role play (Snape x Tammy - who was never really Snape's student), thigh riding, dom!Snape (during role play), spanking, mentions of: food, eating, hospital pregnancy
‘Tammy! Barbie’s here!’
A chipper voice rang through from the shop to where Tammy was hurrying down the stairs to get started. Morgan, her slightly older, and, so Morgan claimed, wiser sister, had always been somewhat of an early riser and was well ahead, already busy preparing the afternoon treats.
Lucius had cocked an eyebrow at Morgan's comment with a typical Malfoy sneer and continued perusing the fresh morning bakes in the display cabinet, pretending he hadn’t heard her.
‘Morgan! Must you call him Barbie?’ Tammy quietly scolded, pulling on her apron.
‘When he stops turning his nose up at my cakes and insulting my pie crusts, I’ll stop calling him names,’ Morgan whispered with a supercilious smirk and a sly glance back at Lucius. ‘Besides,’ she added, ‘there is worse I could call him.’
One corner of Tammy’s mouth twitched. ‘You know what I think?’ She scooped her hair up into a loose bun while Morgan shot her a withering look. ‘I think you fancy him.’
Morgan rounded on Tammy, wiper-shouting through gritted teeth, ‘I do not-’ but Tammy leapt away, chuckling.
The sudden change in tone alerted Lucius to the sisters' little confab. Morgan felt his gaze on her and turned away with burning cheeks, busying herself with a lump of unrolled pastry.
Lucius’s eyes lingered briefly and thoughtfully over Morgan’s blonde locks before he shifted his gaze to Tammy where it softened considerably.
Tammy made her way immediately over to him as she smoothed down her apron and pushed up her sleeves, wrapping her arms around his slight waist in a tight embrace.
‘How is he?’ Lucius asked as they pulled apart from one another.
‘He’s well,’ Tammy sighed relievedly. ‘I’ve told him he should rest today, but he insists he’s got to visit an old friend. I’m cooking him a welcome home dinner tonight.’
There was a silence between them then, as they each considered the other. Lucius was wishing he had someone as caring as Tammy in his life. Someone who might care for him the way she cared for Snape. Someone he could care for, too. Tammy was wondering whether this particular version of Lucius would always be around. She hoped he would.
‘Thank you, Luci.’ Tammy rubbed comfortingly at his arm.
‘You’ve nothing to thank me for,’ he replied, his hand eclipsing hers to squeeze it lovingly.
‘I do, actually. You’ve been a true friend to both of us.’
Lucius replied with a singular nod. He didn’t need to say anything for Tammy to understand that in that moment, he was thankful for her words – and for her presence in his life.
‘Now,’ Tammy continued, ‘I’ll be baking the pies again tomorrow and I’ll save one just for you. But, in the meantime, how about you join Sev and I for dinner tonight?’
‘Tammy, I couldn’t possibly-’
‘Of course you could – after all you've done for us, a meal is the least I can offer. Dinner will be here at seven. And I think I can speak for Sev when I say that we would both love you to join us.’
Lucius’s gaze flicked over to Morgan, and Tammy could have sworn she saw a glimmer of hope flash across his eyes.
‘Will Morgan be joining us this evening?’
‘Afraid not.’ Tammy leaned close to Lucius, who stooped to hear her whispered words. ‘She’s going on a date.’
‘Ah.’ Lucius snapped his eyes away from Morgan’s golden hair, not failing to notice the glints of light dancing in it as she moved. ‘I’ll be off then. I’m very much looking forward to this evening.’
They hugged again, lingering a little longer this time before pulling away.
‘Good day, Morgan,’ Lucius called without turning around, ‘don't help Tammy with the pies tomorrow, I would rather like to buy one.’
Morgan turned, ready to fire back at Lucius with a snarky comment, but he was already gone, the bell above the door dinging gently in his wake, so she simply stuck her tongue out in his general direction instead. She stared after him though, all of her thoughts frozen for a moment until she caught Tammy smirking in the corner of her vision. As if she could read Tammy’s thoughts, Morgan scalded, ‘Don't even think about-’
But it was too late. Tammy began singing exactly the song Morgan had predicted.
‘Morgan and Luci, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G! First comes-’
‘Yes, thank you Tammy,’ Morgan shouted over the din of the old playground song.
‘Morgan Malfoy has a certain ring to it, don't you think?’ Tammy teased.
‘What I think is that you're being very disrespectful to my date this evening,’ Morgan sneered, and Tammy chuckled. ‘And stop being so smug!’
‘Sorry, Morgan.’ Tammy sobered. ‘I do really think he likes you, though.’
‘No he doesn't,’ Morgan protested, ‘we're mortal enemies! And it will stay that way as long as he displays contempt for my pie crusts.’
‘Ever heard of enemies to lovers? It's a perfect setup; he hates your baking, you think he's obnoxiously handsome…’
‘Ever heard of minding your own business?’ Morgan fired back playfully, throwing a lump of pastry over to Tammy, who caught it with ease and began kneading it instinctively. ‘Anyway, who said anything about me finding him handsome?’
‘Oh, no one,’ Tammy shrugged, ‘no one at all.’ She joined her sister at the counter, where they worked together, bickering and laughing well into the afternoon.
*****
‘What do you think to this one?’ Tammy pulled a second outfit option from her wardrobe and held it up in front of the first.
‘So, you’re asking me to choose between jeans and a blouse, and jeans and a blouse,’ Snape drawled playfully, his fingers smoothing over the outfit he planned to wear for their little dinner party.
Tammy smiled, waiting for the inevitable Snape style punch line.
‘You look stunning in both of them. And,’ – his voice dropped lower as his attention switched entirely to Tammy he stepped toward her – ‘whichever you choose, I promise to fuck you equally as hard in it.’
‘It’s funny you should mention that,’ Tammy said casually, her eyes turning darker as she went on, ‘because I was thinking… I could just wear this...’ She threw both of the blouses aside, revealing a silky green lingerie set that clung to her curves beautifully.
Snape’s lips parted to let out a shaky breath before gathering himself enough to speak. ‘I wouldn't recommend it in civilised company, however, if you’re planning to have Lucius and I both drooling at your feet all evening, then yes, you should wear exactly that.'
‘Or… you could fuck me now and save poor Lucius the bother if drooling at all.’ A sly smile spread over Tammy's painted lips.
Snape pushed Tammy back against the wardrobe, his breath hot against her cheek as he mumbled, ‘How about I fuck you now and later?’ he growled. ‘And you keep this slutty little ensemble on, stained with my cum, under your clothes all evening?’
‘I think I can agree to that,’ Tammy breathed, panting already at Snape's hungry words.
Their lips were inches apart but Snape didn’t close the gap. Not yet.
‘Out of curiosity,’ he said, tracing a finger over the soft silk of Tammy's bralette, ‘what made you opt for this particular shade of green?' His knuckle grazed Tammy's nipple through the fabric, causing her to shudder.
She didn’t answer. Instead, she turned away to rifle through the wardrobe, leaving Snape to admire her silk ass, which he squeezed roughly. Tammy hummed in delight and Snape filed her response away for later.
‘Here!’ she exclaimed, muffled from within the wardrobe. She emerged holding up another coat hanger, this time displaying a set of immaculate Slytherin school robes.
‘You were in Slytherin?’ Snape exclaimed.
‘I was. As were you,’ Tammy smirked. ‘But you went on to become Head of Slytherin House.’
‘I did,’ Snape agreed in a low tone that Tammy strongly suspected was his teacher voice.
‘And if memory serves me correctly, not just any head of house. The youngest head of house Hogwarts has ever seen,’ Tammy gushed.
‘Indeed.’
Tammy bit her lip. ‘Professor Snape,’ she breathed, dragging a hand down his chest. ‘Headmaster Snape. Strong, powerful… brilliant.’
Snape swallowed hard. It felt strangely good to hear his titles being used by Tammy, particularly when she was being so completely seductive and complimentary. It made a refreshing change from wishing he could forget those days entirely, and despite the vague reminder, he certainly didn't want her to stop.
‘Does Professor Snape still have his teacher’s robes?’ Tammy cooed, reaching down further to feel the erection already tenting Snape’s trousers.
‘Yes,’ he said, breath catching in his throat.
‘Then how about you put them on? And when you return, I’ll be waiting for you… your naughtiest student awaiting detention with her favourite professor…’
Snape’s lips pressed to Tammy’s firmly, biting at her bottom lip as he pulled away.
His last view of her before he disapparated was simply gorgeous; her hair was messy from rummaging through her clothes and she was leaning back against the wardrobe with a heaving chest as she licked her smirking lips.
His feet hit the wooden floor of his bedroom less than a second later, and he hastily threw open his own wardrobe doors, searching through every item of clothing he owned until he found his old teachers’ robes buried behind shirts and undershirts, and outfits that had been gifts from Lucius in years gone by.
He pulled the robes out to inspect them; they were as pristine as ever, if not a little faded from over-wear, and he could only see the stains from the spilled and exploding disastrous concoctions of his dunderheaded students if he looked extremely closely. They'd do. Especially if Tammy wanted the authentic Professor Snape in her bedroom, at least.
Reminding himself that Tammy was not looking for perfection, and rather, wanted him to fuck her, he frantically grabbed his wand to magic the old robes on, indulging in a little groan as the fabric grazed over his hardening length.
He had never been so eager to don them, used to buttoning up the frock coat manually, simply as a way to torture himself with the length of time it took to dress every morning. And undress every evening. Some nights, he slept in them, too exhausted to so much as pick up his wand and magic them off, but this felt very different.
As soon as the old robes were on, cape and all, he checked his reflection in the long mirror he rarely looked at. He felt strangely powerful to be back in these old clothes. He hurriedly preened his hair and disapparated back to Tammy’s bedroom where he spun around to see her perched on the dressing table chair, legs spread just enough so he could glimpse the silk knickers beneath her old school skirt.
Her shirt and jumper were much too tight over her chest, the jumper pulled low and the shirt unbuttoned enough so that the green bralette beneath was partly visible, with a green and silver tie hanging loosely around her shirt collar.
‘Professor,’ she groaned, and the sound sent a jolt of excitement straight to Snape’s cock, but he kept his stern glare. ‘I know I’ve been bad, daydreaming in class but… is there any way you could forgive me? Anything I can do to make up for it?’
Tammy dragged a finger slowly from her knee to the hem of her skirt, which she hitched up further over her thigh.
‘Miss Tiffey,’ Snape drawled, finding it surprisingly easy to slip back into teacher mode, ‘there are a few punishments that may be fitting for your transgression, but clearly, we need to work on your focus, so I suggest we start there.’
Tammy was already trembling at the sound of his lusciously deep yet silky voice. Snape had never taught her, but she knew that if she had been any younger and he had been her professor, she would have been daydreaming through his lessons without a doubt.
‘Yes, Professor,’ she agreed breathily, ‘what would you like me to do? I know you must be so lonely down here in the dungeons all the time… I'll do anything.’
‘Stand,’ he commanded, and she rose without question. ‘Ah. So you are able to follow simple instructions after all.’
Snape took a seat in the chair Tammy had vacated and beckoned her over to him with a slow finger. ‘Over my knee.’
Tammy made herself comfortable laid across Snape’s spread thighs while he dragged the palm of his hand up the back of her legs, flipping her skirt up to expose her silk covered ass.
‘Hm. Do you always wear such luxurious underwear for detention with your professors, Miss Tiffey?’ he drawled, administering massaging squeezes to her plump behind.
‘No, sir, I wore these just for you… I hoped you'd notice.’
‘I see. And the wet patch between your legs?’ He pressed a finger to her core, rubbing over the wet spot for a brief moment before resuming the kneading of her buttocks. ‘Is that just for me, too?’
‘Yes, Professor,’ Tammy whined, writhing for more of his touch.
‘In that case, you must have continued your interminable daydreaming since our class this morning?’
‘Sir?’
‘That’s right, Miss Tiffey, I know what you were thinking about.’ His voice had become colder, harsher, and it was making Tammy squirm.
‘Professor, please-’
‘Don’t lie to me. I am a legilimens, Tiffey. I know,’ he sneered.
‘Then I suppose, sir, you must also know what I would have been doing tonight? Before you summoned me to detention and spoiled my fun, of course.’ Tammy said smugly.
‘Oh yes,’ Snape drawled, picking up one of Tammy’s hands in his. ‘You intended to fuck yourself on these pretty fingers, imagining – no, wishing – they were mine. Yes, I am very well aware, you naughty girl.’
He dropped Tammy’s hand to rest his own lightly against her ass once more, feeling her whole body shaking with anticipation.
‘Let’s start working on that focus shall we?’ Snape raised his hand and brought it down hard against her cheeks, the sharp slap piercing the air until Tammy’s desperate moan broke the ringing. Snape relished the sound.
‘Professor, please, how can I focus when you’re only making me wetter,’ she begged. ‘I need-’
‘It’s simple,’ Snape cut her off. ‘There’ll be ten strikes. Count them - out loud. If you lose count, you start from the beginning. Understand?’
‘Yes, sir,’ she whined, pushing her behind up eagerly in preparation.
‘Good. Then we shall begin.’
With each number that Tammy counted, Snape rewarded her with another sharp slap – at least, it would be a reward if it wasn’t so hard to concentrate while her mind was clouded with such wanton lust that only grew with every sweet, painful smack of his palm against her tender skin.
Increasingly desperate moans laced the numbers she called. Each was weaker and much more needy than the last.
At seven, Tammy began to waver. Her core was throbbing. She tried to squeeze her thighs together to ease some of the pressure, but the position she was in made it almost impossible, and any time Snape picked up on her trying to rut against him or reach between her legs, he shifted his own to make it harder.
‘Sir, p-please, if I c-could only-’ she stuttered, so desperate for his touch that she didn’t care how much she would have to beg for it.
But Professor Snape was not nearly so yielding.
‘Losing count, Tiffey?’ Snape spat mockingly. ‘Unsurprising. You still can’t get my thick cock off your mind, can you?’
‘No, but- I think- I… I think I’m up to seven?’
‘Lucky guess,’ Snape drawled, his palm stinging her buttocks once again.
‘Mmh! Eight.’
When she finally made it to ten, Snape leant back in the chair massaging the red mark he’d left on her flesh, peeking out from under the green silk.
‘I think that ought to do it, Tiffey. Have you learnt your lesson?’ Snape said casually as though he hadn't a care in the world, least of all Miss Tiffey's desires.
‘Yes, Professor, I promise I’ll be more focussed next lesson,’ she whimpered.
‘No more daydreaming?’ he asked with a raised eyebrow, his hand now smoothing over the curve of her back, exploring the contours of her body.
‘Sir, I can't promise that. But I can keep it to my own time… I’ll still daydream about you when I'm alone,’ she said suggestively. ‘Only it’s not so much a daydream as it is a burning fantasy, Professor. Do you ever have nights like those? When you can’t get someone off your mind and your body is crying out for them?’
‘I believe I am familiar with the sensation you’re describing. Get up,’ Snape instructed coolly, trying with all his might to ignore the copious amount of precum currently leaking into his underwear, his cock twitching at the suggestion of her pleasuring herself to the thought of him.
Tammy stood on shaky legs to see Snape patting his thigh, which she dropped down upon immediately. The feeling of something, anything, between her legs was such a relief that she couldn’t help but groan.
Snape’s fingers dug roughly into Tammy’s thighs. ‘Tell me, Miss Tiffey, do you always think of me when you touch yourself?’ he asked, a sly smile twisting his lips.
‘Always,’ she whispered against the gentle waves of his long black hair. ‘Every night.’
She rolled her hips, biting her lip at the delicious friction against her clit as Snape’s hands travelled up to grip tight at her hips beneath her skirt.
‘I think of you, too,’ he growled in her ear, leaning in to trail his tongue over the pulse point of her neck.
His hands began to control the speed of Tammy’s movements and she collapsed forward against his chest, sighing and moaning into his shoulder as the soft silk slid deliciously against her folds.
‘Do you need to cum, Tiffey?’ Snape teased. ‘Perhaps we need to get this little fantasy of me out of your system next? Or give you something real to fantasise about, at least.’
‘Oh fuck, Professor, yes-’
‘Ride my thigh until you cum. And five points from Slytherin for using foul language.’
Shivers licked up Tammy’s spine every time Snape spoke to her like that. She had never had a crush on a teacher, but the thought of her Sev with this power over her made her shudder.
Snape’s hands slipped up to cup her breasts over her uniform as Tammy pulled at her skirt and slipped the green silk of her underwear aside, allowing her slick to coat his black trousers.
He watched her eyes screw shut and her mouth fall open as her legs tensed and her back arched against the palm he’d slipped around to support her. He quickly slid his other hand between her legs and pushed a finger inside, feeling her walls clench around it.
‘Fuck- Professor!’ Tammy cried as she collapsed against him once more.
‘Now that we’ve worked on focus and resolved your little… problem,’ (he slipped his finger out and through her folds to her clit, causing Tammy to shudder) ‘perhaps you could help me with a little problem of my own?’
‘Anything, Professor,’ she panted, grabbing onto the shoulders of his robes as he rubbed firm, slow circles over her swollen nub.
Despite the shocks of over-sensitivity after her orgasm, Tammy groaned at the lack of stimulation when Snape abruptly withdrew his fingers. ‘On the bed,’ he growled.
Tammy rose slowly and staggered to the bed, flopping down onto it with her arms raised above her head in a signal that her body was entirely his.
Snape stood over her, staring down with a cold glare as his eyes dragged over her curves. ‘You’ve done an atrocious job of adhering to the school dress code, Tiffey. I’m not usually a stickler for such irrelevant nonsense as the precise length of a skirt, but I really think we must address the fact that your chest is practically bursting from that jumper. Remove it.’
Tammy pulled it off eagerly, her hands shaking with the anticipation that had begun to build within her core again already.
‘Spread your legs. Let me see you,’ Snape commanded.
Tammy reached down to slide her underwear aside again, revealing her glistening cunt.
‘Needy little thing, aren’t you?’ Snape cocked an eyebrow, absentmindedly licking his lips at the sight of her dripping, all for him. ‘How many times can you cum?’
‘I’ve lost count when you’ve been on my mind, Sir. Please, I need to feel you…’
Snape’s eyes remained trained on Tammy’s core as he unfastened his trousers with haste and palmed his cock with a long, smooth stroke, biting back the guttural grunt that tried to escape his throat when he finally felt fiction against his aching cock.
‘Lift your hips,’ he finally instructed, his voice thick with lust. He knelt between Tammy’s legs, slipping his hand around to hold her in place.
Tammy hissed, her bum still delightfully sore after her earlier punishment. She hoped it would mark her skin for days as a reminder of this evening.
Snape wasted no time lining his leaking cock up at her entrance and sliding into her. The sound that left Tammy’s throat as her walls stretched around his cock made him gasp. He didn’t want to cum yet. He wanted to continue with their little game for as long as it took to ensure Tammy was thoroughly satisfied, but he was so close already that each of her cries of pleasure were more dangerous to his ears than the last.
He rolled his hips with measured speed until he was buried, building up to a rougher, harder fuck, lowering them down until the bed moved with each thrust.
‘I knew you liked me, sir,’ Tammy mewled, ‘I saw the- mmh- the heat in your eyes when you asked me to meet you for detention.’
‘And I knew you were trying to seduce me with your- ugh!- filthy thoughts, Tiffey. Tell me, did you know I could see what you were thinking?’
‘Yes, Professor,’ her fingers tangled in his hair and his eyes fell closed at the tenderness of her touch, ‘I knew and - oh - I wanted you to see them.’
Tammy felt Snape’s cool fingers at her clit again, flicking mercilessly over her nub, and the burn of his cock stretching her and dragging over her sweet spot with rapid succession had her next release so close she could practically taste it.
Tammy wrapped her legs around Snape’s waist. ‘Professor – I’m gonna-’
The snapping of Snape’s hips had become desperate and uneven, and just as Tammy attempted to announce her orgasm to her favourite professor, his own hit.
Unintelligible swears fell from both their lips as their simultaneous release flooded their bodies and they collapsed together in a messy, sweaty, writhing heap on Tammy’s bed.
Chest heaving, Snape slowly withdrew his softening cock and slid Tammy's knickers back into place.
‘You're to keep those on all evening, remember, Tiffey?’ he drawled with a smirk, pressing the fabric flush her core and holding it there to ensure every last drop of his seed would be kept safe.
‘How could I forget,’ Tammy sighed, squeezing her thighs together over his hand. ‘Mmh.’
‘You truly are insatiable, Tiffey. Tell me, did the real Professor Snape experience live up to your little fantasy?’ Snape drawled.
‘Oh yes. Real Professor Snape is far better than Fantasy Professor Snape,’ Tammy sighed, ‘you’re so much bigger than my fingers.’
‘Hmm… remind me to teach you a little charm for that,’ Snape growled into her ear, ‘so you can feel my cock inside you any time you desire. So long as it’s not during my lessons, of course.’
Tammy moaned, slipping out of the fantasy. ‘I hope that’s not just part of our little game, Sev, because I’d really like to learn that charm.’
Snape blushed. ‘I’m sure I can come up with something.’
‘Fuck. I should surprise you with sexy underwear more often if this is the treatment I get,’ she teased, looking like the cat that had got the cream. ‘Have you really ever-’
Panic flashed across Snape's eyes. ‘Fancied a student? Merlin, no! I-’
‘No, Sev!’ Tammy slapped at his arm playfully, ‘I’m glad to hear it, but I was going to ask if you'd really, you know, thought about me when you've been… alone.’ She bit her lip whilst awaiting his response, hoping he would admit that he fancied her enough to include her in his fantasies.
‘Believe it or not, I’ve had barely a moment to so much as think of pleasuring myself since the moment I met you, Tammy. But if you must know, then…’ Snape averted his gaze, cheeks burning. ‘Yes. Once. The night we met.’
He hoped she wouldn't ask to see the memory of him desperately rutting into his hand and moaning her name only shortly after they had parted ways that night. But thinking back to it now, he could still feel the rush of excitement he had felt when he allowed himself that pleasure, when he allowed his mind to wander wherever it wanted to for a change, and it was entirely stuck on her.
‘Oh shit, really?’ Her eyes widened excitedly as she pushed herself up on her elbows. ‘You really fancy me!’
‘Tammy…’ Snape breathed a disbelieving sigh. ‘Look at you. Look at me. Of course I fancy you. You're beautiful.’
Tammy's warm smile turned into a mischievous grin. ‘More than you fancy Lucius?’
‘I’d say a little bit more, yes,’ Snape muttered sardonically.
‘Do you not realise how much I fancy you, Sev? And before you ask, yes, it is more than I fancy Lucius.’
He stared back at her blankly and she knew she would need to spell it out for him.
‘I thought you'd have had witches queuing up to get a piece of you for years. Well, perhaps you did without knowing it, but you really don't see it do you?’
‘See what? I'm well aware of my physical flaws, there's no point trying to-’
‘Flaws!’ Tammy exclaimed. ‘Merlin, Sev! You're so handsome that I almost orgasmed on the spot the moment I saw you!’
Snape’s eyebrows raised a little in disbelief that Tammy could find him so immediately desirable.
‘Well, perhaps not quite,’ she added, sobering slightly, ‘but I did think about you that night. If only I’d known you were doing the exact same. I’d have been back at yours like a shot.’
‘Who else would I ever dream of,’ Snape said softly, stroking Tammy’s cheek with the back of his elegant fingers. ‘You’re it, Tammy.’
‘As are you, Sev,’ Tammy smiled, although an unpleasant reminder of the girl in the photograph unsettled something deep inside Tammy. She pushed the feeling and any associated thoughts away in favour of changing the subject, wanting tonight to just be about celebrating. ‘We’d better get ready.’
‘Must we? I’d much sooner stay in bed with you all night and hear about how much you fancy me.’
‘We must, I'm afraid, unless you want to invite Lucius up here to join us, because he’s due to be here in…’ – Tammy paused to check the clock on the bedside table – ‘five minutes.’
Snape narrowed his eyes. ‘You’ve been thinking about me and him, haven’t you?’ The twitch pulling at his lips belied his serious tone.
Tammy thought for a moment. ‘If I told you I’d made out with my hot best friend, who you happen to have a soft spot for, are you telling me the thought of it wouldn’t cross your mind at all?’
‘Touché. So long as you only dream of me, I suppose I can live with that,’ Snape said, amused.
‘I promise that my filthiest thoughts and most carnal desires are all reserved exclusively for you, Severus Snape.’
‘Now, now, Tammy. We’ve not even discussed the idea of marriage yet and here you are revealing your wedding vows to me so brazenly,’ Snape said dryly.
‘Oh that barely scratches the surface of what I’d say to you in my wedding vows. And besides, you still think Lucius is hot too, Sev, I’ve seen the way you look at him!’
Snape took a breath, about to protest, but gave up in favour of flopping down against the pillow he was hugging, settling for a subtle eye roll instead.
Tammy giggled. ‘If it makes up for it, maybe one day I’ll tell you about the girlfriend I had for a short while in seventh year.’
A small noise of protest left Snape’s throat as Tammy suddenly rose from the bed to remove the remaining items of her Hogwarts uniform, pull on a pair of jeans and one of the blouses she’d been considering, brush through her hair, and head for the bedroom door. She paused in the doorway to look back at Snape, who was still sprawled over her bed in his teacher's robes, watching her longingly.
Tammy rested a hand at her stomach, which was not quite yet showing the signs of her pregnancy. ‘I’m glad we’re asking him, Sev. I trust you, so I trust him.’
****
The chatter over dinner had died down and the plates were clean save for a few crumbs. Lucius sighed happily, looking around at the comfort he had found himself in. He was lucky, he thought, to have two friends who liked him for whoever he was, even if he wasn’t entirely sure.
‘Tammy, you know I swear by your baking,’ he praised, one hand rubbing lazily at his full stomach, ‘but that really was one of the best meals I’ve tasted.’
Tammy beamed at the compliment. ‘Has Morgan’s baking really not lived up to your standards, Luci?’
Lucius blinked in reluctance at his own thoughts. ‘They were perfectly fine, actually.’
Tammy pressed her lips together, trying to suppress a satisfied smile that said I know you like her.
‘She seemed to take an instant dislike to me and it rubbed me up the wrong way. I could hardly insult anything else about her she’s- well- anyway, she keeps calling me “Barbie”… who is this Barbie, anyway?’
Tammy chuckled and Snape’s mouth gave way into an amused smile.
‘She’s a very pretty doll,’ Tammy said playfully, watching Lucius’s furrowed brow turn nonplussed. ‘I’ll get cleared away. I think we might need a break before dessert.’
‘Here, here,’ Lucius agreed, patting his stomach again. ‘Let me help, Tammy?’
‘Absolutely not,’ Tammy protested. Snape rose and began to collect the dirty plates. ‘Neither of you,’ Tammy scolded, tapping Snape’s hand away. ‘You two go and have a drink together. I’ll be through soon.’
Snape and Lucius looked at one another, shrugged and headed for the living room.
‘How have you been feeling since you came home, Sev?’ Lucius asked as he made his way to sit in front of the blazing fire.
Snape poured two glasses of red wine from an open bottle he’d started with Tammy earlier. Handing one to Lucius, he hesitantly replied, ‘Happy,’ as if suspicious of his own emotions. He was very much still learning to navigate the overwhelmingly pleasant peace that had suddenly entered his life. Despite the nonstop events that had occurred since he met Tammy and was reunited with Lucius, being around them felt incredibly comforting. ‘I don’t know where I’d be without the two of you,’ he said earnestly.
‘I rather feel the same about you and Tammy,’ Lucius agreed, ‘and I have a feeling that she would say the same about you and I. We make a good little family, the three of us, don’t we?’
‘Yes. Yes we do.’ Snape felt almost sick with a strange sense of joy. He had friends and he had family – a growing family.
He was overcome with an urge to reminisce, but knowing that this wasn’t exactly possible, he pulled the photograph out of his pocket and handed it to Lucius, high on feeling like he once had, back when Lucius was the only one who understood him. But now, everyone around Snape understood him perfectly, and for a split second that thought stopped him thinking clearly.
‘Look at us, Malf. We’ve always made a good team, you and I. I wish you could remember those days.’
Lucius took the crumpled photograph and instantly froze. He suddenly felt as though all the air had been sucked from the room and the walls were slowly closing in.
‘Malf?’ Snape called out, barely piercing the thick cloud of confusion that had formed in Lucius’s mind.
Lucius could hear Snape’s voice faintly, as though he was underwater and Snape was shouting down at him from above the surface.
‘Malf, are you alright?’ Came another seemingly garbled call.
And then, as quickly as it had begun, Lucius felt as though he had been dragged up from beneath the surface of the lake he was drowning in. His senses became sharp again; the sound of pots clinking in the kitchen was clear, he could breathe deeply, he could feel the warmth of the flames in the fireplace against his cheeks.
‘Y-yes- sorry, I- I’m alright,’ he stuttered, flicking his gaze up from the photograph to lock onto Snape’s eyes, ‘I felt… something. Something strange. Just for a moment… but it’s passed. Sorry, old friend, I didn't mean to startle you.’
Snape’s eyes widened as he watched Lucius staring blankly back at the photograph. Shit, Snape thought, shit, shit, shit, he’s remembering something! What have I done?
‘Let’s get some fresh air, Malf. It’ll do us good,’ Snape suggested, standing abruptly. He hoped that a change of pace would distract Lucius before he accidentally unravelled something more than whatever had just happened.
‘Tammy, we’re going outside for a moment, we’ll be back for dessert,’ he called through to the kitchen.
‘Alright, be careful you two!’ Tammy called back from the sink, where she was now magicing the plates and cutlery dry.
Snape led Lucius to step out into the fresh evening air, and although the sting of the cold breeze sobered Lucius slightly, there was something stirring in his mind, something he couldn’t calm.
‘So what are you thinking for names?’ he asked, attempting to keep himself firmly in the present.
‘Harry asked me that, too… if you’re going to suggest Lucius-’
‘Who’s Harry?’ Lucius interjected.
‘Harry Potter,’ Snape said with some hesitation, watching Lucius closely to gauge his reaction.
‘You know Harry Potter?’ Lucius questioned, his grey eyes sparkling in awe.
Relief flooded Snape. If Lucius couldn't remember Snape's link to Harry, the photo couldn’t have brought much of his memory back, if any.
‘Yes, I know Harry Potter,’ Snape muttered impatiently, as the relief wore off. The mild irritation he had always felt when people were fascinated by the Boy Who Lived was still very much apparent, but at least now Snape knew that Harry wasn't so fond of that fascination either. It turned out they had more in common than he had ever previously realised.
‘You’re very well-connected aren't you, Sev. Anyway, do go on.’
‘Yes, thank you, Malf.’ Snape sounded very much like a teacher tackling a room full of dunderheaded students, but, he supposed, Lucius wouldn’t remember the days he would observe Snape’s classes as a school governor. ‘No we haven't discussed it yet.’
‘I've always been rather fond of Latin names,’ Lucius drawled, carefree, ‘not that I have a child to name, of course. But if I did, I always fancied Silas, Cassian, Draco… something like that.’
A shot of guilt stung through Snape's gut. Lucius had his Draco, and he had loved him dearly – more perhaps than Lucius ever had the guts to tell his son. Did Draco know Lucius had been obliviated, or did he simply believe his father had abandoned all hope at reconciliation and given up on him?
‘Would you like to have children of your own?’ Snape asked tentatively, sucking in a slow, deep breath as he awaited Lucius’s reply.
‘Merlin, yes, I've always wanted children. Lots of them. My home filled with their games and laughter… imagine the joy,’ Lucius sighed dreamily. ‘Still, perhaps it's not to be.’
‘You never know, Malf,’ Snape said, swallowing hard and deciding it might be best to change the direction of this conversation for now. ‘How about we check out that old box in my shop? I'm sure I saw some baby things in there, they might have some use after all.’
‘Excellent idea, old friend! Lead the way.’
Upon recalling the box of baby things, a few connections had begun to form in Snape’s mind.
‘What’s bothering you, Sev?’
Snape hesitated, holding his keys tight in his fist. ‘Harry told me that his remaining belongings were boxed up and given to a second hand shop after he survived the killing curse. This used to be-’
‘Mr Pocket’s Second Hand Artefacts!’ exclaimed Lucius, looking up at the front of the shop. ‘Of course!’
‘Exactly!’ Snape said excitedly.
‘I remember that perfectly. It’s strange how some things have stuck with me,’ Lucius mused, ‘but if his things were here-’
‘And something was left behind-’
‘The box of baby things,’ Lucius nodded.
‘Yes, the baby things – maybe that’s what they’re after.’
Snape unlocked the door hurriedly and they both pushed inside, rushing to the back room where the box sat under an occasional table in the corner.
‘What if they believe Harry’s belongings have the power to raise the Dark Lord again…’ Snape whispered darkly.
‘Surely they wouldn’t?’ Lucius scoffed.
‘I would hope not,’ Snape said with horror lacing his words, ‘but if the events of the war taught us anything, nothing is impossible. The Dark Lord took measures even we could not fully comprehend at the time.’
Lucius swallowed hard. He didn’t remember what the war had taught him, or why Snape had said “even we” as though Lucius would be privy to something that allowed him to comprehend Voldemort’s movements, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to remember.
‘Let’s see what we’ve got, then.’ Snape slid the box out from under the table, lifted the lid and peered inside. Lucius leaned over his shoulder for a clear view.
Inside the box was a small assortment of items that didn’t all appear to quite match up. There was a silver salver engraved with snakes, and at the bottom with S. Slytherin, a pale pink blanket that, although dusty, looked as though it had been extremely well made in its day, a small but very well-looked after teddy bear, and a shiny baby rattle. Like the salver, it was silver and engraved; this time with a simple HJP.
Snape and Lucius turned to look at one other then back to the rattle.
‘Do you think-’ Snape whispered.
‘I most certainly do think,’ Lucius agreed. ‘What should we do?’
Snape shot up and paced the room. ‘It would seem to me that old Mr Pocket kept a collection of things he didn’t wish to sell for one reason or another. I have no idea about the blanket and the teddy bear, they seem innocent enough; perhaps sentimental or intended to be given as gifts one day. The tray is obvious – Mr Pocket was a Slytherin in his day and must have come across this item of Salazar’s at some point in his career, but the rattle-’
‘What’s Harry’s middle name?’ Lucius asked plainly.
Snape hesitated. The name, although ready on the tip of his tongue, was difficult to spit out nonetheless. ‘James,’ he uttered, quiet disgust pulling at the corners of his mouth.
‘So that would make his initials H-J-P,’ Lucius gasped.
‘H-J-P,’ Snape agreed with a fresh spark of excitement igniting his black eyes.
In the corner of their vision, a garish green glow filled the inside of the box and illuminated the corner of the room it inhabited.
‘Merlin, how could I not have realised!’ Lucius exclaimed. ‘I've seen that box glowing once before! I thought I was imagining it at the time, but it must have meant something-’
‘Malf, do you know about the Horcruxes?’ Snape bit his lip after speaking, worried that spilling too much and overwhelming Lucius with information would only muddy the waters further.
Lucius shook his head, so Snape provided a brief and watered down explanation of Voldemort's soul having been split into seven pieces, Harry himself having been one of them.
‘So if he was holding this rattle at the time he survived the killing curse…’ Lucius said slowly, coming to the same crushing conclusion as Snape.
As Lucius's words trailed off, Snape’s eyes dragged to the mantelpiece where a glint of silver reflected the green glow back onto his face. Lucius's eyes followed and they approached it together.
‘Is that…’ Lucius breathed, awestricken.
‘Minerva gave it to me. When I was recovering from Nagini's bite-’ he stopped when he realised that Lucius probably wouldn't have a clue who Nagini was, or that Snape had almost died the night of the battle after Lucius had been the one to summon him on the Dark Lord’s orders. ‘When I was recovering after the war,’ he corrected himself, ‘Minerva visited me in the hospital. She said I was the bravest man she’d ever known, and she placed it down beside me.’
A single tear slipped down Snape's cheek as he spoke these words out loud, never before realising how overtly that moment had affected him. Being called a coward played on his mind more often than he would care to admit, and it was usually always in McGonagall's voice that he heard it. That was the one that had stung the most.
Lucius hesitantly brought a hand up to rub at Snape’s back. He wasn't sure what the tear was for, and for all he knew, it could be because of him. But Snape smiled at the touch, and flicked his eyes back to the mantle. They were staring down at the Sword of Gryffindor, lying unceremoniously above Snape’s fireplace.
They knew without the need for words that they both were having the exact same thought. Together, they reached for the sword, swung around with it firmly in their joint grasp and brought it down upon the box. The force of the strike crushed the box, slicing open part of the teddy bear in the process, as well as breaking clean through the rattle, which smoked and hissed, and gradually disintegrated into floating ashes that disappeared before their eyes. The green glow ceased and the sword clattered to the ground.
Snape, shocked and relieved and feeling all manner of emotions coursing through him, was about to turn to Lucius and hug him, but he was suddenly thrust back against the wall. Lucius's plump, wet lips pressed firmly to Snape’s and his hands dragged down from Snape's shoulders to slide around his waist.
Snape gasped, and Lucius took the parted lips as an invitation to slip his tongue inside, sliding against Snape’s with fervent passion.
Snape moaned weakly, which in turn made Lucius growl and deepen the kiss, pushing a hand up into Snape’s hair and causing a further whimper, but despite the encouraging noises he was eliciting from him friend, Lucius suddenly felt the force of being pushed back.
‘Malf, what the fuck-’ Snape started, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and catching his breath, but as he had prized himself out of the fierce embrace, he saw that Lucius’s eyes didn't look the same somehow. They appeared sharper, much more like the old Lucius.
‘Sev, I'm sorry, I-’ Lucius dropped onto the sofa and his head immediately fell into his hands as his shoulders trembled. ‘Fuck,’ he repeated, muffled this time by his palms.
‘Malf… did you…’ Snape started awkwardly, slowly moving closer to take a seat beside Lucius. ‘We don’t… do that anymore. You- you got married and we-’
‘I know,’ Lucius said plainly, lifting his head to look directly at Snape. His eyes were blank as he tried to process the thousands of memories that had suddenly flooded his consciousness. ‘I know. But for a moment it was 1978 again. Just for a moment, and I saw you beside me, and it all made sense. It was one of the few things that made sense and we- we were-’
‘It’s alright,’ Snape soothed, snaking an arm around his friend’s shoulders and pulling him to rest against the comfort of his chest. Lucius’s arms wrapped around Snape again, but this time it was a relieved grasp rather than a hungry, lustful one.
‘I'm so sorry,’ Lucius cried, almost shrieking through his sobs as he gripped at Snape’s robes. ‘I remember. I remember it all! Fuck!’
Snape closed his eyes and inhaled slowly, trying with all his might to remain composed and not think about how Lucius still smelt the same as he remembered. He brought a hand up to stroke through Lucius’s soft, platinum hair, the action calming him just as much as it calmed Lucius.
‘It's alright,’ Snape said quietly, fumbling awkwardly within Lucius's grip to find a small flask in his pocket with his free hand. ‘Here, drink this.’
Lucius took the flask without question, downing the contents in one swift swig. Gradually, he stopped shaking, his tears dried up, and he no longer howled like an animal in pain when he spoke. He let go of Snape and flopped back against the sofa cushions, taking a series of deliberately slow, deep breaths.
‘Malf,’ Snape said quietly, ‘you're safe with me. Tell me what you can remember.’
‘I can remember it all, Sev. Every last detail. I’m a fucking war criminal, I’m a monster, I’m- fucking hell, Sev, I should be locked up in Azkaban. I need to turn myself in-’
‘Lucius,’ Snape said firmly, ‘you were pardoned. Do you remember that? You defected before the Dark Lord was defeated. And if you want my honest opinion, you would have done it sooner if you weren't terrified for the lives of your family.’
‘It doesn't matter, I did enough!’ he despaired. A blinding realisation hit him then. ‘I have a family- I- I have a family, Sev! A son!’
‘Do you remember what happened to them?’
‘Draco… oh, he left us. And rightly so. Narcissa, she- she obliviated me. I asked her to. A war criminal and a coward.’
Snape shuddered at the last word, and took a steadying breath. ‘You can still repair your relationship with Draco,’ he said softly.
‘No. No, I can’t, he hates my very guts and I don’t blame him one bit. Why couldn't I see it back then? Merlin, I put myself in Azkaban and destroyed his life. I should let him rebuild it, let him live in peace. Without me.’
‘You’ve grown since then, Malf. Let him see that, at least?’ Snape offered.
‘Grown?’ Lucius spat.
‘How do you feel about half-bloods? Muggleborns? Muggles?’
Lucius’s brow furrowed. ‘I used to hate them all, didn’t I? I thought they were scum…ha! I was the scum.’
Hope bloomed in the pit of Snape’s stomach as considered Lucius’s fresh perspective.
‘I think that your new life – the life you’ve made for yourself since you were obliviated – has allowed you to discover who you truly are, to form your own opinions instead of spewing the opinions of your overbearing father. Think about it, Malf, when did you ever get the chance to discover yourself before?’
Lucius’s eyes locked on Snape’s. ‘Only when I was with you,’ he said quietly, looking away, ashamed. ‘I have no idea who I truly am, even now that I remember it all.’
‘I do,’ Snape said simply, bringing Lucius back to him. ‘And you’re still with me. We will always be friends, Malf. Always.’
A pause swelled between them then, their eyes each burning into the others as they sat in the dark silence of Snape’s living room, both of them silently reminiscing on the nights they spent in the Slytherin common room like this, just being together in the dark, entirely one another's support and solace.
‘I’m sorry… about before,’ Lucius whispered solemnly.
‘Don’t be,’ Snape said lightly, pushing Lucius up from where he was resting against him, ‘you were always a good kisser. I'm glad to see that hasn't changed.’
A look of pure satisfaction spread over Lucius’s face. It was an expression Snape hadn’t seen for years and he revelled in the sight, as he always had when it had been aimed at him.
‘I’m not sure how Tammy will feel about it, though,’ Snape smirked.
‘Shit. Tammy. You’re- you’re having a baby with Tammy and here I am sucking your face. Merlin.’
They laughed together then, it was brief and laced with a heavy, almost sorrowful weight, but it was a laugh nonetheless and it helped to clear Lucius's head a little.
‘I'm here, Malf, I’ll help you. Me and Tammy. Actually, we wanted to ask you something tonight.’
A glimmer of hope that Tammy would still want to know him shone through the tears lining Lucius's eyes.
‘Let’s go back first. I think she would want us to ask together. Come on.’ Snape stood, holding a hand out to Lucius, who hesitated for a second before taking it.
They made their way back to Tammy’s living room just as she emerged from the kitchen to announce that dessert was ready whenever they were.
‘Whatever is up with you two?’ Tammy said, as full of life as ever. ‘You look like you’ve both seen an inferius.’
Snape and Lucius took a simultaneous deep breath.
‘Tammy,’ Snape piped up silkily, ‘I need to introduce you to someone.’
Tammy had frozen, unsure what exactly to expect. ‘Sev, what are you-’
‘I would like you to meet Lucius Malfoy. The original version.’
‘Oh-’ Tammy’s eyes flicked between the two, finally settling on Lucius. ‘Luci?’
‘Tammy, I’m so sorry. I remember everything. I’m disgusted with myself. And, while we're being honest, in all the confusion of remembering my… disappointing life choices, I kissed the father of your child tonight, and for that, I apologise.’
Snape's cheeks turned crimson when he saw a flush appear over Tammy's face, knowing that hers was borne out of desire rather than embarrassment.
‘Hold on – you remember everything and you… you’re still… my Lucius?’ Tammy said, beaming gleefully as she looked him over.
‘He’s very much still your Lucius,’ Snape confirmed, warmth spreading through his chest.
Tammy rushed forward, wrapping Lucius in her arms and squeezing him tight. He felt different with an edge of familiarity. ‘Luci, we’re here for you, whatever you’re going through. You’ll always have us, I promise. I met the real you the night you showed up at Sev’s.’
Snape, standing beside the embracing pair, felt a hand tugging at his sleeve, soon followed by another; he was being dragged into the hug by Lucius and Tammy together. The three of them stood, holding onto one another for a comforting eternity.
‘Dessert was ready ten minutes ago,’ Tammy eventually mumbled into Lucius’s chest, ‘who’s joining me?’
The three of them loosened their grip on one another to straighten up and make their way back to the kitchen table, Tammy resting her head against Snape’s arm as they went.
‘So, I said we had something to ask you, Malf,’ Snape said as they took their seats.
Tammy turned to smile at Snape, and he nodded, grabbed her hand and squeezed.
‘Luci,’ Tammy said with a voice full of joy, ‘we would be honoured if you would be our child’s godfather.’
As pale as the man was, Lucius had been more than ghostly white since his memories returned, but upon hearing this question, colour flooded back into his cheeks. ‘You want me to be your child’s godfather? Me?!’
‘Of course we do,’ Snape said softly, ‘it was always you, Malf.’
A moment passed between Snape and Lucius then. They felt a connection stronger than ever, each of them knowing that this was their lot; they were both so content with the prospect of it that they each could both have cried with joy. Lucius was wanted and Snape was healing, they were both loved, and they still had one another.
‘I would love to,’ Lucius said shakily, a tear threatening his eye.
Tammy moved over to squeeze Lucius’s shoulder as Snape patted the other.
‘So,’ Tammy began, smiling playfully as she went on, ‘you kissed my boyfriend, Luci, and for that, I think I deserve a favour.’
Tammy passed a steaming bowl of apple crumble to each of them as she waited for Lucius’s response, rather enjoying the blush appearing on his cheeks. He was somehow even more handsome with this new (old?) edge to him, and she wouldn’t have blamed Snape if he’d enjoyed the kiss they’d shared tonight. She certainly didn’t blame Lucius for wanting to kiss her handsome lover either.
Lucius cleared his throat. ‘What did you have in mind?’ His cheeks were positively burning by now and he didn’t know quite where to look.
‘I think you should ask Morgan out.’ Tammy said simply.
‘She would never,’ Lucius snorted.
‘Oh, I think she likes you. A lot actually.’
‘Isn’t she on a date tonight?’
‘She was set up by a friend of hers but… listen, I know my sister, and I know when she’s head over heels,’ Tammy said, a little more seriously now.
‘Oh? Does that happen a lot?’ Lucius’s brow trembled. He suspected Morgan would chew him up and spit him out, if she didn’t swallow him whole first.
‘No, actually. I think she’s had one real crush our whole lives. She’s extremely picky. If I’m right, you’re very honoured actually, Malf.’
‘Who was her last crush?’ Lucius frowned at the twist of unwelcome jealousy stirring in his gut.
‘My late husband,’ Tammy said with a casual shrug. ‘Before we were married, of course. As soon as he asked me out she went off him. Didn’t have an eye for anyone before, or since.’
‘He looked very much like you, Malf,’ Snape said with a suggestive eyebrow raise. ‘Maybe Morgan has a type.’
Lucius smirked. Looking rather pleased with himself. ‘All three of you have a type, as far as I see…’
‘Vain as always, Lucius. Glad to see you’ve not abandoned all of your old traits,’ Snape snarked. ‘Anyway, I say you give it a go.’
‘Have you met her, Sev?’ Lucius asked, a little horrified.
‘Not yet.’
‘Then perhaps you should reserve judgement. No offence, Tammy, but that woman… she’s- she’s-’
Tammy glared at Lucius with a look that very plainly said stop playing around and let’s have the truth.
Lucius’s resolve weakened at Tammy's stare and he mumbled, ‘She’s beautiful and scintillating and bright and...’ he frowned then, voice becoming stronger, ‘and I’ve never had to work so hard for someone’s attention… I think I kind of like it.’
‘Now we’re getting somewhere,’ Tammy beamed.
‘I rather like the honesty of this updated Lucius,’ Snape said with a twinge of sarcasm.
‘Well, now we’ve established your crush on Morgan, and agreed you'll ask her on a date, let’s tuck in shall we?’ Tammy grinned.
‘Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, no one said anything about a crush,’ Lucius protested, puffing out his chest a little.
‘No, of course not. I gush about Madam Rosmerta like that all the time,’ Snape said, lips twitching into a wry smile.
‘I forgot to tell you she came in today,’ Tammy said with a decrescendo, as though she realised half way through the short sentence that she regretted starting it.
‘And what delights did she regale you with this time?’ Snape asked cynically.
‘What’s Rosmerta got to do with it?’ Lucius interjected before Tammy had a chance to answer Snape, and in truth she was relieved. Now wasn’t the time or place to bring up what Rosmerta had said to her.
Luckily, Snape didn’t pick up on Tammy’s sharp exhale and continued, ‘I’ll fill you in, Malf. But first, shall we tell Tammy about the rest of our little adventure this evening? As much as I’m sure she loved hearing about you kissing me, there was also that small detail of how we found and destroyed what those death eaters were after-’
‘You what?!’ Tammy cried, dropping her spoon, ‘How could you both sit here bickering about crushes and being smug about your long overdue reunion snog when you’ve just saved the world again?’
Snape turned bashfully modest, but with Tammy’s inquiring glare and Lucius’s obvious giddy excitement to tell Tammy how they used the sword together, he reluctantly began a recount of the events of the last half hour.
‘It was nothing,’ Snape muttered at the end of the story, pushing a sugar and cinnamon covered lump of apple around his bowl.
‘Nothing? It was brilliant,’ Tammy breathed, ‘you were brilliant. Both of you.’
‘There was something else in the box I thought you might like, Tammy.’ Lucius reached into a pocket of his robes and pulled out the little teddy bear. ‘He sustained an injury, but I think we can fix that.’
Lucius whipped out his wand next and pointed the tip at the stuffing spilling from the bear’s neck. Mild disgust pulled at his features as he considered the simple, inornate wand between his fingers. ‘Remind me to take a trip to Ollivander’s first thing tomorrow, this thing doesn’t suit me at all. It’s… stubby. At least I remembered how to take care of my nails,’ he mused, holding his hand up to admire them.
Snape’s eyes fell closed as he shook his head, and Tammy snorted.
With a crackling spark, the bear's neck was quickly stitched up. A silvery thread was just visible, sparkling in its dark fur.
‘There. Now he's just like Sev,’ Lucius smirked, handing the bear to Tammy who gleefully accepted the little gift.
‘Our baby's first teddy!’ she exclaimed. ‘He’s so handsome.’
‘Ah, perfect. Even more like Sev.’ Lucius gave a wicked grin, revelling in Snape’s eye roll, belied by his burning cheeks.
‘Thank you, Luci. Or should I say, Uncle Luci.’ Tammy sighed. ‘We’ll be alright, the three of us.’
‘Don’t you mean four?’ Snape said, reaching down to caress Tammy’s stomach.
‘Hmm, how about five? I almost forgot we’re going to be planning Luci and Morgan’s wedding come this time next week!’
Snape and Tammy saw Lucius out an hour later with another tight embrace and promises of looking after one another.
Lucius nervously promised to speak to Morgan when he stopped by for his pies tomorrow, bidding them good night with a genuine smile. Despite his memories weighing heavy on his shoulders tonight, he at least felt as though he had something to look forward to.
The second Lucius departed, Tammy leant up and pressed her lips against Snape’s hair, breathing him in as she whispered into his ear. ‘Now, Sev, I believe there’s a charm you wanted to teach me…’
