#alpha Draco Malfoy

[xx-thedarklord-xx]

The Scent of You (Inside Me)

E, very explicit, 9k

Just because the war ended didn’t mean that Draco had to be nice to Potter. Their fights continued, their arguing never mellowed, and it landed them in detention, smack dab in the middle of the Forbidden Forest—again. Oh, and Potter was in heat too.

Some Tags: Omega Verse, Alpha Draco Malfoy, Omega Harry Potter, Riding, Slick, A lot of Slick, Slick as Lube, Inappropriate Use of Slick, Come Sharing, Possessive Harry Potter, Harry Rubs his Slick into Draco's Skin, Eighth Year

Ao3

This is probably the raunchiest thing I've ever written which is not typically my style, but I was asked to be a pinch hitter for hdowlpost and this was one of the giftee's interests and I decided either I was going to go big or go home when it came to my first Omega Verse of this caliber.

[writer-swift-knight]

Summary

Magic has a way of fighting back when threatened. Three years post-war as the magical population dwindles, a sudden shift occurs to drive witches and wizards together with mixed results and unintended consequences.

Hermione Granger searches for a cure to save the lives of those negatively impacted by the phenomenon, but in the six months since she began, she is no closer to a solution.

When Draco Malfoy arrives intending to help, he unintentionally triggers the witch into heat. Now he is faced with a choice, to be Hermione’s savior or her damnation.

Details

One Shot

9.6k Words

F*ck or Die

Alpha Draco Malfoy

Omega Hermione Granger

Praise Kink

Mutual Pining

Theo Nott is a Little Shit

HEA (Horny Ever After)

[bluebugsy]

Haven’t slept for a day and a half so I started this so I didn’t mess up my other WIPS with my loopiness 😂

[katie-krum]

Too Early - Chapter 2 - katiekrum - Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling [Archive of Our Own]

Hermione went into heat too early. The presence of Draco's pheromones triggered a reaction in her body.

[nelweensfic]

Patience is the best gift

For @basicallyahedgehog, my little giftie for our Wheel of Drarry mini-Exchange from @drarrymicrofic ❤️

Summary: After almost a decade of being both a teacher at Hogwarts, and an Omega, Harry realises there’s only one thing he's finally ready for: founding his own family.

Tags: Omegaverse, Alpha Draco Malfoy, Omega Harry Potter, MPREG, Smut, fluff

✨Read it on Ao3✨

[lilietherly]

[Fanfic! Draville]

Omegaverse.

Omega Neville Longbottom/Draco Malfoy.

Relación establecida.

Draco posesivo.

La autora se niega rotundamente a explicar algo.

¡Las entrevistas son a las 8! 🙅‍♀️

* * *

Remus Lupin miró con asombro y horror, en medio del aula y sobre la envejecida alfombra, la figura caída de Neville Longbottom. El resto de la clase, igual de impactada, sintió lo mismo, sabiendo el terror que se avecinaba. Todos aceptaron que ninguna cantidad de chocolate los salvaría.

Un ciervo había muerto en lo profundo del bosque prohibido, enfermo o viejo, refugiándose entre las raíces de un gran árbol, no salió jamás. Oculto de la fauna que naturalmente se encargaría de continuar con el ciclo de la vida, tarde los habitantes del bosque advirtieron su destino, permitiendo que la podredumbre se asentara. Terminaron los vientos de llevar el ciclo a un reinicio diferente y con él, llegaron las esporas.

La explicación, acaso no sencilla, satisfizo lo suficiente a Albus Dumbledore y a los centauros, que necesitaban de una razón para justificar la aparición de un centenar de dementores. Cadáver podrido: esporas: viento. ¡Bam! Dementores por todos lados. Agitados y hambrientos. Enojados y muy hambrientos dementores recién brotados. En cuanto la noticia se diera a los padres de los alumnos que Hogwarts recibiría en menos de un mes, más conveniente le sería a Dumbledore creer que su hipótesis era la verdad absoluta.

Su querido amigo Newt le daría la razón o se burlaría de su falta de imaginación.

Finalmente, con la promesa de haber contratado al mejor profesor de Defensa Contra las Artes Oscuras, que enseñara a los alumnos de cuarto año en adelante a defenderse de los dementores, pero que no debería existir ningún temor ya que la población estaba siendo controlada por otros expertos, al menos el ochenta y cinco por ciento del alumnado, aceptó volver. Y, para cuando comenzaron las clases, sin encontrar una mejor razón para justificar la presencia de los dementores, atendió Dumbledore con la base del ciervo fallecido cualquier duda que padres y alumnos pudieran tener.

Draco no estuvo de acuerdo en que Neville regresara y, por supuesto, sus argumentos cayeron en oídos sordos. Los padres, abuelos y tíos abuelos de Neville no ayudaron, cada uno recitando motivos por los cuales el Omega debía demostrar la inteligencia que tal vez tenía y no hallar excusas para truncar sus valiosos estudios; que como Omega Sangre Pura necesitaba ser el mejor; que cómo iba a tener la cara para presumir a su lujoso Delta si le temía a un par de dementores. De su parte, alentado por la verdadera, aunque incorrectamente motivada valentía, Neville estuvo de acuerdo en el ánimo genuino con el que Draco pretendía hacerle ver lo poderoso que sería como mago. Negándose así a escuchar las inquietudes del propio Draco.

Reconocía el Delta la certeza en las expectativas que la familia Longbottom guardaba para con Neville, sin embargo, tratándose de su Omega, cuestionaba con ferocidad sus métodos. Criticarlos sin algún tipo de censura le restó muchos puntos, pero ya que la discusión se enfocaba en el bienestar de Neville, por el momento, no provocaron las acusaciones su destierro definitivo. La conclusión, no obstante, lo mantuvo malhumorado el resto del mes y las primeras semanas de iniciado el curso.

Draco supo que algo saldría mal, algo siempre salía mal. No culpaba a Neville y, todavía no por completo ciego de amor y devoción por él, Draco admitiría que algunas de las situaciones que resultaban mal pudieron —tal vez— ser evitadas con un poco más de habilidad.

Era su maldito trabajo mantener a salvo y feliz a su Neville, nadie iba a convencerlo de que esas cosas eran “normales” y que “le sucederían tarde o temprano a cualquier persona”. Draco, un jodido Delta, orgulloso hijo de los Malfoy, protector dominante de su alma gemela, parecía ser incapaz de defender a su Omega de los accidentes más comunes. Cada uno pisoteándole el ego e incrementando su deseo no tan interno de encerrar a Neville en una maldita jaula —de oro y del tamaño de un castillo, obviamente.

Así, con la cordura pendiendo de un hilo, otra vez, se encontraba Draco a mitad de clase de Transformaciones cuando, de repente y a través del lazo que poco a poco se formaba entre él y su Omega, lo alcanzó el reconocimiento claro de Neville sufriendo un golpe. Todavía incompleto, la unión que los enlazaba aún no podía hacerle reconocer la intensidad y la ubicación. De igual manera, saberlo no habría impedido que se levantara de un salto y saliera corriendo de la clase. La profesora McGonagall ni siquiera preguntó, sus compañeros Slytherin y el grupo de Ravenclaws tampoco reaccionaron, todos ellos acostumbrados a las súbitas retiradas de Draco.

Mientras corría por los pasillos, Neville se aseguraba de enviarle un sentimiento claro de estar a salvo y de que no corría ningún peligro. Bajo el entendimiento de ambos acerca de lo mucho que Draco ignoraría la aclaración y no lo dejaría en paz, Draco la tradujo como la intención de Neville para que no se apresurara ni insultara a quienes se le pusieran en el camino, diciéndole que había tiempo de esquivarlos sin la necesidad de quitarlos a base de efectivos Depulso o —aún mejores— Bombarda. Además, ya que Dumbledore lo amenazó con la expulsión hacía un par de años si no disminuía su poder de fuego cada vez que acudía a cumplir su deber como Alfa de Neville, por esta ocasión, Draco se limitó a sortear los obstáculos de dos patas.

Lo esperaban en la puerta de Defensa Contra las Artes Oscuras, su Omega custodiado por el profesor Lupin y su alumno estrella, Harry-Estorbo-Potter. Si Neville no considerara a Potter como un amigo, Draco no solo le dedicaría miradas y palabras cortantes.

—Escucha, fue solo un accidente, la alfombra… —Draco no le dedicó una segunda revisión a Potter. Tomó del brazo Neville, que se había adelantado tres pasos, lo atrajo para darle un beso simple en el cuello y luego, de un movimiento, lo levantó como una doncella inconsciente. Falsamente resignado, Neville no dijo una palabra, simplemente resopló y se cruzó de brazos.

—El boggart en el armario apenas había salido —dijo el profesor Lupin—, yo no pensé que…

Pese a su edad, al ser un Delta, las feromonas de advertencia que Draco emitió fueron capaces de hacer retroceder a los Omegas Sangre Impura, obligándolos a abandonar las excusas patéticas. El silencio impuesto creció colmado de una furia apenas reprimida y las palabras que le costarían a Draco su estadía en Hogwarts, acusaciones que no repetiría acerca de su obvio desagrado por la incompetencia del profesor. En su lugar, dio media vuelta y se marchó, entregándoles una última mirada de desprecio antes de girar en el pasillo.

—El señor Black no estará feliz del trato que le diste a su ahijado y a su Omega —dijo Neville, susurrante, todavía en los brazos de Draco.

—No estoy feliz con el trato que le dio al mío —gruñó, ajustando el agarre de su preciado Omega una vez las escaleras comenzaron a moverse. La frustración sin diluir quemándole la piel le exigía a gritos asegurarse de que Neville no tenía alguna herida abierta o un moretón que debiera ser atendido por madame Pomfrey, aunque en contra de ese razonamiento, se dirigía al séptimo piso.

—Eso es porque no hubo nada qué hacer, si quieres culpar a alguien sería a…

—No —gruñó Draco tajantemente, besando los cabellos rubios de Neville. Ambos debían aprender aún lo que un “accidente” significaba, aunque por razones muy diferentes. Guardaron silencio hasta que llegaron al séptimo piso y, dando las respectivas vueltas delante de lo que parecía una simple pared, lo que Draco tanto buscaba se reveló.

—Una puerta, por favor, que sea solo una… —murmuraba Neville con los ojos cerrados, asiéndose del cuello de Draco, casi tembloroso.

El orgullo decoró la sonrisa de Draco al oír a su Omega y su petición sin sentido. Draco no necesitaba una puerta debilucha para proteger a Neville; dos, tampoco bastarían, aunque, por fortuna, no sería como tras aquel incidente con el libro Monstruoso. La maldita cosa se atrevió a rozar la exquisita piel de Neville, a destrozarle la ropa, a revolverle el cabello y a punto estuvo de herirlo y arrojarlo al suelo. Draco mantuvo a su Omega dentro de la Sala de los Menesteres durante tres días luego del ataque, al resguardo de media docena de pesadas puertas y bajo encantamientos que superaban por mucho los niveles de un mago de tercer año. Se aseguró que el libro ardiera hasta las cenizas y luego compró uno nuevo, si Hagrid no tuviera el favor de Neville, indudablemente habría sufrido una parte de los deseos vengativos de Draco.

—¿De verdad crees que una puerta bastaría para convencerme de que estoy cuidándote como es mi deber? —Neville dejó de temblar y lo miró con sus ojitos brillantes. No pronunció palabra, sin embargo, conforme la conexión entre sus ojos se ampliaba, las mejillas redondas fueron tiñéndose de un tierno rosa. Agradecimiento y amor puros alcanzaron a Draco a través del lazo que unía sus almas. Sus rodillas temblaron.

Tres puertas aparecieron; pesadas y cubiertas de múltiples cerraduras. Un botiquín perfectamente equipado los esperaba adentro. Una cama enorme que flotaba al ras del suelo acaparaba la mitad del espacio en medio de la habitación, un sofá y una mesita descansaban junto a la puerta, en una esquina había un espejo alto, y a su lado, una pequeña cómoda en donde ambos guardaban tres cambios de ropa. Iluminaban a la perfección decenas de velas y un puñado de vanidosas hadas. Al entrar, luego de escuchar los cerrojos siendo activados, el silencio y el aroma de ambos fusionado en uno solo disminuyó el errático pulso del joven Delta.

Dejó que Neville se asentara sobre ambos pies, pero negándose a soltarlo del todo, colocó las manos en los bordes suaves de sus caderas, lo que ya no provocaba reacciones negativas. A pesar de su corta estatura, Neville le rodeó el cuello con los brazos, acercándolo lentamente hacia su rostro mientras una sonrisa apaciguadora decoraba sus labios rosados. Draco no se resistió, e inclinándose para eliminar la distancia, besó a su Omega.

Escasos fueron los días en que, reconociendo a Neville como su alma gemela, incluso a su corta edad, Draco limitaba los besos a un simple contacto de labios. Ahora, preocupado y estando herido su orgullo como un buen protector, su lengua no tardó en abrirse paso al interior de esa dulce boca. Ya no eran unos niños, conforme el tiempo sucedía no solo incrementaba su amor y el deseo innato de permanecer juntos.

Ambos tuvieron su primer micro-celo hacía un año y desde entonces, por cuanto los obligaban a pasarlos alejados, —pues al ser almas gemelas el organismo de Neville reconocía que al estar con el mejor compañero que tendría nunca, debía esforzarse en aprovechar cada oportunidad para crear una nueva vida tan pronto como fuera posible, asegurando así una descendencia perfecta sin ningún temor a ser abandonado y carecer del cuidado de su Delta— reconocían en su interior lo que la madre naturaleza les exigía. Ya no obligándoles a cumplir únicamente el feroz deseo de proteger o de exigir ser protegido, de hacer pequeñas marcas o impregnar algún aroma, sino haciéndolos desfallecer ante el patético afán de permanecer ciegos ante un incendio que exige ser contenido, que todo ilumina y todo fulmina, amenazándolos con tortura hasta no ver colmada el hambre.

Hasta no verlos unidos en alma, piel, sangre y huesos.

Las pálidas manos de Draco escarbaron cada capa de tela que osaba cubrir las caderas y espalda de su Omega. El anhelo desataba su autocontrol, sabía en el fondo que debería resistir y limitar cada acción que liberara a su instinto, que aún si no tuviera ya diez años, todavía necesitaba tiempo para asegurarle a Neville un futuro en donde pudiera darle todo lo que exigiera. Sin embargo, esa piel sedosa, maleable y sana, opacaba su sentido común con una facilidad aterradora.

—Draco… debemos… —jadeó Neville, inclinando su cuello para que su Delta lo atacara libremente.

—Sí… solo, un poco…

—Sé que no estoy interrumpiendo nada, jóvenes, sin embargo, me disculpo por aparecer tan inesperadamente —resonó la voz del director Dumbledore en toda la habitación. Draco apenas se separó de Neville, gruñendo al verse interrumpido, nunca admitiría el pequeño susto que mucho le costó reprimir al escucharlo.

—¿Se-señor? —Draco no hizo caso a los intentos de su Omega para alejarse de él. Lo observó buscando en la habitación hasta convencerse de que Dumbledore no se Apareció justo detrás de ellos.

—Entonces, si las habilidosas manos de la señora Pomfrey no serán requeridas para curar al señor Longbottom, debería suponer que ambos saldrán de ahí para retomar sus clases y, por lo tanto, no estoy  haciendo sino declaraciones redundantes, ¿verdad?

Draco gruñó diez insultos diferentes antes de rendirse. Ayudó a que la ropa de Neville volviera a su lugar y le pasó los dedos entre las hebras rubias de su cabello ahora revuelto. Neville le sonrió, imitando la acción, notoriamente más tranquilo que él. Un gran “te lo dije”, enmarcando su brillante sonrisa. Draco lo besó antes de cruzar las puertas. El director los esperaba aún.

—Oh, si las miradas mataran —cantó Dumbledore, riéndose con inocente diversión de los ojos que Draco le dirigía.

Sin ningún otro remedió, Draco se limitó a tomar la mano de Neville, dispuesto a llevarlo de regreso con el irresponsable profesor Lupin. Dumbledore no los seguía, pero si no encontraba dificultad en llegar a una habitación de la sala de los menesteres, indudablemente tampoco tendría problemas para saber si Draco tomaba alguna deviación en el camino.

Neville lo tomó del brazo, desviando su atención con su risa y el calor afable de su cuerpo. Sin decir palabra, recordándole a Draco la misión principal, le recordó la innegable buena salud de aquel a quien iba a proteger el resto de su vida.

Y eso era lo único que importaba.

* * *

Sí, sí, sí 😌

[reliand]

The end of chapter 6 of A Dark and Savage Magic broke me, okay? I was a sobbing mess...which I've been for a lot of this fic, but damn. This scene just squeezed my heart. Thank you for writing this @tessacrowley <3 you are an absolute gem

If you haven't read it, it's an interesting and heartbreaking look into omegaverse, and for Draco in particular, but heed the warnings.

[starsin-motion]

disparate // Chapter 4/4 (10.5k words, 40.7K total) // COMPLETE

A Dramione A/B/O

au where omegas who go neglected by their alpha for a long time often go into breakthrough heats when being around a different, compatible alpha who displays one (1) caretaking trait around them

"You– you brought me supper?"

Malfoy eyed her warily. "Don't look so stricken. Do you think I haven't noticed you've been starving yourself for days? You were at your desk when I arrived this morning and haven't moved since."

He opened the box of fruit and plucked out a single grape with his sinfully long fingers. Still seated in her desk chair, Malfoy loomed over her entirely so she couldn't look anywhere else. Sometimes it was easier to forget how large he really was.

"Now eat."

[spireasalix]

I'm thinking of an Omega!Draco and Alpha!Harry fanfic, in which the omega part of Draco begins to get out of control when he arrives at Hogwarts in the eighth year and only Harry's alpha voice is able to stop it.

And when Draco goes into heat, he has to ask Harry for help, because his body won't accept anything else. Or anyone. ✨

[maxrowave]

The long-awaited drarry cannibalism writing

This is only a snippet and is part of a much bigger thing, albeit the quality of the writing is a bit dubious because when writing, I'd never intended on them being read, I will provide some context for this + other notes at the end. I would also like to mention that this writing does contain the contributions of a writer who has requested to remain anonymous.

Draco has been subtly manipulating Harry to resent among his closest friends, because of orders from Voldemort; Draco puts Harry into a situation where he needs to either kill Seamus or Draco. Harry chooses to kill Seamus however faces lots of regret. It is also snowing and they are outside, disposing of the body.

Harry Potter is a fool. A stupid, ginormous fool. Whenever Draco traced his forearm, Harry leaned into Draco’s touch, craving it like a child craves approval. He still could not bring himself to meet Draco’s eyes, feeling undeserving after the heinous act he had done. Harry killed Seamus with his hands. He could have pulled out his wand, making his suffering minimal, but a part of Harry wanted Seamus to hurt for abandoning him. Harry wanted- Harry became all too aware of the fact Draco was towering over him and slender fingers found their way into his hair, forcing him to look down and not bow his head in shame. Harry had never bowed his head to Draco before out of pride, but now he didn’t cower solely because of the acceptance offered to him.

“You saved me from David. I saved you from Seamus. Now we’re even.” Harry says plainly "Seems righteous."

Harry began averting his gaze to stare at Seamus. Unlike David, Seamus was not beautiful in death. It was the stark opposite. This was the ugliest thing Harry had seen in his entire life. He looked down at his hands, briefly imagining what it would have been like if the roles were reversed. Harry’s hands would be around Draco’s neck instead with Seamus cheering him as he stood behind him, urging Harry to punish Draco for years of torment. Harry would squeeze as hard as he could until that angelically pale face burned red with vessels bursting, but then Draco would only look at him with those inhuman silver eyes and Harry would pull away ashamed. Harry would have spared Draco, feeling guilty for wanting to hurt him.

Draco stepped a little closer to Harry, not intentionally, but perhaps some subconscious animalistic instinct for warmth; a moth to a flame. He was to report in his next letter, Harry had struggled with killing one of his closest friends, yet he'd done so anyway. He'd indulged himself in a sin and his hands were stained, Draco's curiosity burned with where Harry's limits were. How far could he push this lion? Poke and prod it in its cage and teeter on the tightrope of danger as he observed him. Draco wanted nothing more than to break apart his skull and look into that brain of his.

Alas, he kept the thought to himself, the awareness of Harry's crumbling state as he'd killed Seamus for him like a lamb to a sacrifice. There was this slow and steady building of Harry's commitment to whatever arrangement they were calling this, with Seamus's death and Harry finally sealing his soul to Draco.

This was the moment Draco had fully decided on taking Harry under his wing.

___ OTHER INFO AND BITS Throughout the whole actual writing, in Harry's mind, he often refers to Draco as angelic because of his features -- blond hair, and pale skin, Draco meets a lot of conventional beauty standards. However, in a lot of Draco's subconscious, there are a few metaphors about the devil in contrast, with the devil being a fallen angel and all that. All around some religious references because what's sexier amiright? Furthermore, Harry mentions Draco saving him from someone named David -- that is the first person Harry kills, and it is by accident. The name David was chosen because in the Bible he symbolises goodness, obedience and morals, therefore by killing him, Harry has killed his own morality.

[xx-thedarklord-xx]

Here to concur with the other 2 anons about your omegaverse Drarry. It’s scorching HOTTTTT yet so tender and soft! How you managed that combination is beyond me. I literally had to take SEVERAL breaks just to fan myself and scream silently into my pillow. HOT HOT HOOOOTTTTTTT!!!!!!! And your characterisation of them is absolutely sublime and perfect that you ruined omegaverse for me because now this is the only characterisation I want to read. Also have I mentioned that it’s fucking hoOOTTTTT???!!! It’s been days and I haven’t yet recovered!!!

Ahhh thank you! I had so much fun with that story, and I am so glad I was a pinch hitter for HDOwlPost otherwise I don't think I'd have put out an omegaverse fic like this, and that would be a shame! It makes me want to write more omegaverse fics and I just might! I love that you talk about the softness of it too. It is a rather smutty smut fic, but there are soft moments that I also really loved writing. Thank you for the ask and thank you for reading my fic!

The Scent of You (Inside Me)

[cautiously0ptimistic]

Been neck deep in Dramione fanfics lately tryna convince myself to write something half as good so naturally I had to bring them to life in my game.

[okeutocalma]

Rony Weasley — Male reader.

Leitor é um Zabine. Um chocolatão 🫦.

Pobre.

Gordo.

Feio.

Essas palavras se repetiam na mente do garoto enquanto se olhava no espelho. Havia gordura ali, aqui, suas bochechas eram grandes de mais, havia muitas sardas. Não era bonito, não se sentia bonito, então por que [Nome] gostava dele?

[Nome] é um homem rico, alto, corpo malhado. Ótimo em todas as matérias e tinha um futuro garantido. Então, por que escolher alguém tão fútil e inútil como ele?

Não tirava notas boas, estava sempre em detenção e toda santa vez algum amigo de seu namorado o lembrava que sua família era um zero a esquerda.

Rony passou a mão pela própria barriga, os dedos trêmulos tocando a pele sardenta marcada por pequenas pintinhas que se espalhavam pelo tronco. O quadribol não fora suficiente para emagrecê-lo, e muito menos ajudavam os lanches vorazes que devorava nos intervalos, sem o menor pudor.

Porco.

Era isso que ele era, não? Um mero porco, incapaz de ser diferente. [Nome] merecia alguém melhor — alguém que fosse tão inteligente quanto bonito, alguém que tivesse aquela leveza natural, que não precisasse fingir que não estava sempre com fome. Alguém que tivesse um quarto só seu, que não fosse sempre perturbado por um irmão ou outro a qualquer hora do dia ou da noite, alguém que não carregasse o peso da vergonha por simplesmente ser quem era.

Enquanto a mão de Rony descansava sobre seu estômago, ele se via pequeno, inseguro, uma sombra ao lado de alguém tão brilhante.

Ele chorou, o rosto quente e úmido pelas lágrimas que escorriam sem controle, enquanto apertava a própria pele com uma força quase desesperada, como se, de alguma forma, pudesse fazer aquela gordura sumir apenas com o toque. Os dedos afundavam-se na carne, e a angústia que sentia parecia ainda mais cruel, misturada com a vergonha de não ser, de não parecer, o suficiente.

Entre soluços e respirações entrecortadas, ele murmurou, a voz quebrada e amarga:

— Queria ser... tão bonito e magro quanto Malfoy!

A lembrança do sorriso arrogante de Malfoy, sempre tão impecável e esguio, dançava em sua mente, como se fosse uma afronta constante. Malfoy parecia ter prazer em jogar isso na cara dele, em exibir a própria aparência como uma arma, uma lembrança impiedosa de tudo o que Rony não era — e talvez nunca seria.

Mais tarde, naquela tarde cinzenta, [Nome] cruzou a entrada do salão comunal da Grifinória, vestindo orgulhosamente suas vestes da Sonserina. Em meio ao ambiente vermelho e dourado, ele parecia uma pequena rebeldia elegante, uma cobra deslizante entre os leões - a única que eles aceitavam. Nas mãos, trazia uma caixa de bombons — os favoritos de Rony, escolhidos com um carinho evidente em cada detalhe. Seus passos eram leves, quase dançantes, e ele logo encontrou o namorado encolhido em um dos sofás, envolto em um suéter largo que lhe escondia o corpo.

Com um sorriso, [Nome] aproximou-se, depositando a caixa de bombons ao lado e, sem cerimônia, curvou-se para deixar uma série de beijinhos suaves na face de Rony, seus lábios desenhando um rastro de afeto e conforto.

— Por que está aqui encolhido desse jeito? — perguntou, olhando-o com um toque de preocupação e ternura, enquanto os dedos passavam distraidamente pelos ombros do namorado.

Rony desviou o olhar, uma leve coloração avermelhada surgindo em suas bochechas. Hesitou, tentando mudar de assunto com um murmúrio, mas [Nome] não pareceu se dar por vencido. Havia algo nele que transmitia calor e uma confiança tranquila.

Naquela tarde, por insegurança e acreditando que seu amado merecia alguém melhor, Rony terminou com [Nome] Zabini.

[katie-krum]

Hermione went into heat too early. The presence of Draco's pheromones triggered a reaction in her body.

Too Early - katiekrum - Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling [Archive of Our Own]

[ronnonon]

Ron presented as an Alpha two years earlier than expected. The first Alpha in his family in several generations, his family is both extremely proud and cautious as him being an Aloha automatically makes him more powerful in the eyes of the public and there was always the chance he would be mocked for his second gender and being poor. Ron doesn’t care all that much though and continued as if nothing has changed even as his body does. He grows taller by two whole feet and gets a muscle mass he doesn’t fully know how to manage but he just uses that in quidditch and that’s all. It’s in year seven when Narcissa Malfoy comes to him in secret and asks to speak with him. He does, only because he recognises a scared mother and his hatred for their family has always been for her husband and son, she has yet to give him a proper reason to show her malice. He’s shocked when she tells him that Draco presented as an Omega. She explains that she knows a rich, pure blood who, she admits with a surprising lack of hesitation, isn’t all that liked will be a prime target. Not only would mating with him be demeaning to him but they would also have right to his money and, worst of all, his body. Ron feels sick as he realises what she means, how she fears someone will claim him without his consent and force him into his second gender and never allow him to be a person. He doesn’t hesitate for even a second when she asks him to protect her son, to watch out for him and make sure no Alpha or even Beta tries to abuse him. He does ask her why and the answer is obvious, he doesn’t like Malfoy. He won’t take him again this will or fall in love, he won’t use him as a toy then leave him to waste but at the same time, he’s a good person and won’t let him be hurt in such a cruel way. Ron says nothing to his family or friends and if Harry and Hermione notice that he’s watching Draco like a hawk and distracting or going as far as to beat down some Alphas who speak vile words or get too touchy and make the Omega uncomfortable… they say nothing. Not even the twins, who watch as he rips an Alpha off Draco in the corridor and punches his face in and kicks his stomach, say anything. They saw the Alpha choking Draco and gripping his crotch as Draco sobbed and tried to get away. Ron want let someone get hurt but now that he’s an Alpha, a strong one at that, he would never let an Omega be assaulted. Ron doesn’t just help Draco but it’s obvious he’s overprotective of him, not giving Alphas a chance to even try anything with Malfoy in a kind way. Ron knows he’s taking it too far, his knuckles have scars on them from how far he’s gone, but he could smell Draco’s fear as soon as he walked onto the train. He might be falling in love, at the very least his second gender has a deep connection to Draco’s, but he expects nothing of it. He’s there to protect the boy he’s gotten to know better than any other, whose view on the world is shifting as he’s forced to the bottom of the food chain, who looks at Ron with so much hope when he comes to save him and keeps watching even as Ron leaves without saying a word. Narcissa comes to him when he’s visiting Hogsmeed and thanks him, not nothing to hide the tear that goes down her face. Draco does the same thing later that day after returning from talking with his other himself, standing on his toes and kissing Ron’s cheek and whispering a thank you that has Ron preening and rumbling a happy purr.

[nelweensfic]

Strawberry

For Drarry @drarrymicrofic prompt "Disease". Thank you @cluelesspigeons for beta reading ☺️warning a/b/o dynamics & implied mpreg 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Pansy asked at the other side of the bathroom door. “You’ve been sick every morning now.” 

“I must have caught some disease. Harry insisted on flying our brooms during our date yesterday. It’s probably just the flu,” Draco said as he flushed the toilet and opened the door. “Do you think there will be strawberry pie during dinner today? I have been craving strawberries since last night.”

Pansy looked at him, analysing him before her eyes landed on his belly. Draco pushed her away from the sinks so he could rinse his mouth, suddenly uncomfortable. Still, he could see Pansy’s pale face through the mirror. He stopped washing his mouth as she gasped. 

“Draco,” Pansy rushed to the sink, grabbing his shoulders with both hands. “When was your last heat?”