#draco malfoy fic
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amorchai · 3 days ago
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𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐎.
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this is a repost from my old blog. original post was 400 notes. formally known as a morning filled with kisses.
pairing(s): draco malfoy x reader
words: 410
warnings/tags: just draco fluff.
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sunday mornings had to be the favourite part to draco’s week. tired after spending the saturday with you at hogsmeade, hands intertwined while feet walk along the pebbled streets, quiet conversations while gazing in the shop windows before cooped in the small café for a hot drink. never a doubt that quick kisses would be stolen in the corner while keeping each other company.
saturday nights returning to his dorm to cuddle underneath the duvet after a tired day spent together. the cold dungeon of the slytherin rooms lost beyond his warm bed and embrace.
waking up the next day, draco was always in his element, a small smile always adorning his face when he notes your arm draped across his torso, head tucked into his bare neck with small but deep breaths only making him pull you closer and closer.
the water of the black lake upon his window would have his eyes trace over the view before inevitably turning to adorn your features in an impatient attempt to let his love rest and hold back from waking you from slumber.
your mouth is open in as heavy breaths scan his skin, sleepy skin looking soft and traceable in the mornings but draco wasn’t sure if it was just because he was in love, but it invites his calloused fingers to run over your shoulder and bare arm anyway.
the tickling feeling awakes you slowly, squirming in his arm with a tired giggle, eyes still closed when draco’s lips adorn your shoulder and collarbone. the sleepy and dazed smile that covers your expression is one draco is able to match when you stretch your aching bones and press a quick kiss to his light stubbled jaw.
“good morning, my love,” draco says, arm tightening to pull you closer into his side – not willing to get up and back to the world just yet, enjoying the quiet and slow mornings together instead.
you hum in reply, your hand wandering to his clothed chest as you tuck into his body once again in hopes to fall back asleep before breakfast, pressing lazy kisses to his neck as draco sighs in contentment.
“have i ever told you how pretty you look?” draco asks as you nearly fall back asleep, a quick smile covering your lips, “every day.” your response allowing draco to close his eyes and rest his head atop of yours, willing himself to fall back asleep, “good, just making sure.”
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amorchai masterlist . taglist
amorchai © ─ all rights reserved. no reposting/translating/copying will be tolerated.
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lqveharrington · 7 months ago
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The Alchemy | D.M.
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summary: Although Draco promised that he would keep your relationship a secret just for you, he can’t contain himself after winning the Hogwarts quidditch cup.
pairing: draco malfoy x hufflepuff!reader
includes: FLUFF, established relationship (and a last name of Evergreen for the reader)
a/n: inspired by the olympics recently ❤️
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When Draco asked you out in fourth year, you thought it was a joke. Sure, you were both acquainted due to your pure wizardry bloodline, but you were in Hufflepuff. The only time the other houses thought you were useful was when they wanted to sneak into the kitchen. So when he came up and sat down beside you when you were studying potions, you were disheartened.
“Malfoy, please don’t do this.” You sigh, rubbing your forehead. You were just starting to understand what ingredients made a truth serum.
“Do what? I’m asking you if you want to go to Hogsmeade together this weekend.” He spun the Malfoy signet ring adorning his hand.
You look up at him with tired eyes, “Did someone put you up to this?”
“What? No no, I—“ He cleared his throat, feeling his cheeks warm at how you were able to fluster him with even a small glance. “I’m really asking you to go on a date with me.”
You search his face for any indication of a lie, before biting your lip softly and looking down at your parchment. “Are you really?”
“I am.” Draco dropped his hand onto yours to stop your fidgeting with the quill.
You felt your own face heat up at the notion. He thumbed your palm softly as you stayed quiet, not minding his closeness. Finally, you looked up at him, “You have yourself a date, Malfoy.” He sent you a soft smile but before he could say anything else, you interrupted. “Please don’t let me down.”
Draco never let you down. Despite your earlier doubts, you saw how kind and thoughtful the Malfoy heir was underneath his hardened shell his father had built around him. In private, he was always attentive, loving, clingy — there wasn’t a moment where he was separated from you. In public, he had to rein in those feelings just for you.
Even when you started your seventh year at Hogwarts, you were still terrified what others at school would say about a Hufflepuff dating the Slytherin Prince. Sure, his parents and your parents knew, but not the entirety of Hogwarts. You had asked Draco to keep your relationship private until you were ready to face the reality of your relationship to the rest of the world. He begrudgingly agreed, respecting your wishes; but the need to kiss you in front of the entire student body to rightly claim that you were his was wavering.
Especially when it had been three years since you first started dating. And right now, you were currently hiding below the stands together as you greeted him with good luck kisses for his final quidditch match as a student in Hogwarts.
“I.” Kiss. “Love.” Kiss. “You.” Kiss. You say softly as he holds you close by your hips — smiling into all your kisses. “Good.” Kiss. “Luck.” Kiss.
“You’re killing me here, love.” Draco murmurs against your lips. He pulls away gently to look at your ever so loving gaze. He draws small hearts on you hip, “You done?”
“Never.” You kiss him again, hands cupping his jaw. “I want you to be stuck with me forever.”
He hums into the kiss as you thumb his cheeks softly, “I will after I win this game, my love.”
You separate again, grinning like a lovesick puppy. “Good luck, Dray. I’ll see you later.” You press one last kiss to his lips before leaving his arms and running up the Hufflepuff stands to cheer. You couldn’t deny that even after all these years he still made you giddy and red.
Draco shook his head with a soft smile only you could coax out of him. He walked out from the stands and hopped on his broom, ready in the air for his final match as Slytherin’s seeker. Cheers filled the stadium as the players took their place, captains shaking hands.
The final match for Slytherin and Gryffindor was probably the most anticipated all year round. Since it was also Harry Potter’s last game as seeker, and the two seekers were known as rivals, it was hyped up to be one of the best end matches of the season.
As the game progressed, Slytherin and Gryffindor were constantly tied. It was really up to the seekers to find the golden snitch to determine the winner. There were bets taking place in the house stands, mind fixated on earning a few galleons for the last time. For the Hufflepuff stands, they were a house divided. Many cheered for scarlet and gold while the other half cheered for green and silver.
You didn’t mind the division between your house. After all, you only watched the games for Draco. Your friends were cheering for the Gryffindors whilst you carried the small Slytherin flag in your hands — eyes trained on the blonde high above the game itself. The second you blinked from the blazing sun, Draco was soaring after the golden snitch, Harry close behind and eventually flying right next to him.
The shouts from the stands only fueled the seekers’ attention to the flying gold. Draco and Harry were chasing in circles after the snitch, attention focused on nothing else even as the bludger zoomed past them.
You held your breath as they both reach out for the snitch. Your friend held your shoulder in anticipation, watching the two closely. Before you could register what happened, she gasped and shook your shoulders in frustration.
“I lost ten galleons to that!” She sighed heavily as Draco flashed the golden snitch in the air.
The rush of the win made you scream happily with the other Hufflepuffs and houses cheering for the Slytherin team. You wear clapping your hands as the team began flying around in victory. You watched as Draco flew around the stands more as the rest of the Slytherin team settled on the grounds. His eyes scanned the stadium until they lit up when they saw you at the very front of the Hufflepuff stands — waving your Slytherin flag with pride.
“Seems like Malfoy is off showing the last snitch he’ll catch for the Slytherin quidditch team! But we all want to know where the trophy is!” The third year announcer spoke, voice casted across the stadium.
You smiled at Draco softly when you finally met his eyes. And before you knew it, he flew right over to you and cupped your face, kissing you senselessly. You grinned into the kiss as you held his cheeks, the shouts and screams from your housemates blending in your ears.
“Aw, quite a beautiful way to celebrate the win. Don’t you think so, McGonagall? Honestly, I wasn’t expecting Malfoy and Evergreen— Ow, sorry.” The third year announcer spoke once more, rubbing the spot the professor lightly hit them with a newspaper.
You part from Draco with a blinding smile, “I think I agree, this is a beautiful way to celebrate.” You say quietly only for him to hear, pressing quick kisses to his lips.
“I’m proud of you, love.” Draco nudges your nose with his to gently stop your kisses for a second — even though he did want more.
“Me? You just won the quidditch cup for your house!” You laugh while wrapping your arms behind his neck, careful in trying not to pull him off his broom.
He rubbed the apples of your cheeks, “You just let me kiss you in front of the entire student body… I think that’s more important.” He pulled you in for another mind searing kiss, making you smile helplessly.
“AGAIN?” The third year announcer shouted into the microphone once more. “Is there—“
“Alright, we’re done announcing, boys and girls.” Professor McGonagall spoke and shut the speakers off; although she was quite happy for the couple.
You giggled as he pulled you into a hug. “I love you.”
Draco pressed kisses to your cheek repeatedly, “I love you more.”
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©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms
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kryptonitejelly · 8 months ago
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draco malfoy x reader (female)
the one where Blaise notices the Malfoy signet ring on your finger.
send draco requests.
-
The air smells like a combination of Draco and yourself, but mostly Draco - notes of citrus overlaid with the scent of tea and smoky wood. His sheets are cool against the surface of your skin, a sensation which lends a sharp contrast to the warmth of his bare chest against your cheek. You can feel one of his hands tracing patterns onto the skin of your back, as he other hand fiddles absently with your fingers which you have splayed out across his chest, a lazy post-coital haze surrounding you both.
“Who knew the Draco Malfoy would be one for cuddling,” you say teasingly your fingers tugging lightly on the long slender digits which are still tangled with yours. This isn’t the first time you’ve been here, your naked form flush against Draco’s in the same bed in which he had you legs hooked over his shoulder, his name a litany on your lips just mere moments ago.
“I’m not,” he scoffs with a roll of his eyes, as he manages to squeeze your fingers in his, a subtle battle for dominance among you both.
“Alright then,” you say both suddenly and with a calculated carelessness as you push your hands, fingers still tangled in his against his chest as you make a move to sit up. The covers slip easily down your skin with no clothes to act as friction. It exposes you, your nipples hardening upon contact with the cool air. You’e barely managed to get up when you feel the arm wrapped around you shift, fingers pressing more firmly into your hip to pull you back down.
“Where do you think you’re going,” Draco questions. He keeps his tone indifferent but the arm which has tightened around your body tells a different story.
“I’m sure Theo likes to cuddle,” you express matter of factly, keeping your expression innocent and it earns you an icy gaze from the blonde, cool grey boring in you. Draco observes you for almost a full minute before speaking.
“I’m sure he does not,” is what he finally says as a retort, his tone more disgruntled this time.
You open your mouth to disagree only to feel your back pressed flat into the mattress, Draco’s body now covering yours, his movements swift. You see the glint in his eyes as he lowers his head towards yours.
“Draco,” you breathe his name out. He doesn’t respond but presses his lips to yours. His hands find yours, fingers tangling together, pinning your hands above your head. You kiss him back, teeth nipping his lip lightly which earns your a low growl from the back of his throat. You can feel Draco hardening, his length pressed against your stomach. Your almost miss it with the competing sensations overtaking your body - lips, hands, skin, but your brain manages to register the feeling of Draco slipping cool metal from the signet ring on his last finger onto your index.
-
“Well, well, well - look who decided to join us,” Blaise calls out too cheerily, taking in the sight of you and Draco walking into the small sitting room in what had come to be Draco’s side of the Malfoy manor.
“It is surprising that I’m joining you in the sitting room of the Malfoy manor,” comes Draco’s reply which earns a good natured chortle from Theo and an eye roll from Pansy.
“Well, you can’t blame us for thinking that you two would be,” Blaise pauses for dramatic effect, “…otherwise occupied.” His unsaid words clear.
As with the rest, you and Draco had been childhood friends. However, years of tension that neither of you had acted upon had only cumulated more recently, and with Pansy’s blessing, into this, whatever it was. You both hadn’t yet spoken about it, the touching, sleepovers, sex, and there had been no outward proclamations to the world at large that either of you was anything other than single, and yet - it was no secret among anyone who knew either of you that you were both very unavailable.
“You mean book club?” You managed to keep a straight face as you question Blaise too innocently. It earns you a smirk from Draco and an amused chuckle from Pansy, your joke clear as you stop by the table facing the floor to ceiling windows which they are sitting by.
You reach across the table for a handful of blueberries from a bowl beside Theo’s elbow when you feel Blaise grab your wrist lightly, his fingers curling around, as he holds your wrist up in triumph, brandishing it around. You place your free hand flat down on the surface of the table, stabilising yourself as you lean forward into Blaise’s pull.
“I didn’t know book club members were all given the Malfoy signet ring,” he grins wildly at the discovery. The group’s gaze flickers to Draco’s hand, noticing the lack of the ring, usually a mainstay, on his the last finger of his left hand.
“If I join book club could I get one too?” Theo quips cheekily as you feel your cheeks start to heat both at your current plight as well as with recollection of what had been a subtle act of possessive on Draco’s part earlier.
“Zabini,” Draco says, tone still even as he reaches over, his hand curling around your forearm, tugging you out of Blaise’s grip, while ignoring Theo, “if she’s wearing the Malfoy signet ring don’t you think you should think twice before manhandling her?”
“Is she yours Draco,” Pansy adds to the chaos, an equally wide smirk on her face as Blaise lets your wrist slip out from his hold with ease while throwing you a wink.
“If you thought otherwise then you lot must be more dim than I thought ,” is all Draco says as he sits down. He lets you drop onto the chair beside him before reaching over to pull the piece of furniture and you closer to his side, the drag of it on the floor audible.
It earns him a whoop from Blaise, two hands thrown up in the air from Theo as he yells “finally”, and a laugh from Pansy who blows a kiss at you.
Draco slides his arm across the back of the chair, before looking at you brows lifted slightly, but his question is clear, you’ve never spoke about this and Draco wants to know - are you okay with this?
“I am,” you say as you lean forward to press your lips briefly against his. It only causes a louder ruckus at the table.
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agreeeeeeeeeee · 2 months ago
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PLEASEEEE MORE POSSESSIVE JELOUS DRACO🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️YOUR BAD SANTA FIC WAS LITERALLY EVEYTHING. POSSESSIVE MEN GOT ME WEAK
thank you for the request!! hope this is satisfactory 🫶🏻
Flutterby Baby | D.M.
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feat. Draco Malfoy x fem!reader
SUMMARY: Draco finds out another student sabotaged your Herbology project.
CW: MDNI 18+, smut, draco’s pov, established relationship, possessive!draco, bullying, hurt/comfort, men suck, sort of rough fingering & piv, affectionate degradation if you squint (he refers to her as a plant), blood/fighting
masterlist
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Draco watched as you pushed your pasta around your plate, staring absently at the whirls of sauce on the porcelain. You’d been quiet the entire meal, only speaking when directly spoken to by your group of friends, and even then, it was half-hearted, brief answers.
Both were unusual for his talkative, carb-loving girl.
He placed a light hand on your thigh, leaning closer to you. The warmth of your skin, the sweetness of your perfume, beckoned him even closer, but he ignored his impulses. “Everything alright, darling?” He asked, low enough that your friends couldn’t hear.
“Yes, just not very hungry,” you said in your pretty little voice, placing your hand over his and pecking his cheek.
He didn’t buy it. “I can track down some takeaway and we can eat in my dorm, if you’d like,” he offered, wondering if the commotion in the Great Hall was a bit too much for you.
You shook your head, another stunning development. You never turned down takeaway. “I’m fine, baby. Thank you, though.”
“Well, if you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask. I’ll make one of these sod’s fetch it for you,” he teased, hoping to get a smile out of you. He didn’t.
Draco sighed, pressing a kiss to your temple before turning back to the conversation he was in the middle of with Theo and Pansy. He continued to watch you in his periphery as you started to play with his fingers, twirling his signet ring around and around. As much as he enjoyed the mindless contact, the delicate brush of your skin, he knew this was a nervous habit of yours.
He had half-a-thought to excuse you both, but he knew that would only draw more attention to your melancholy state, which would likely make you feel even worse. He could pick your brain later. Right now, he needed to make sure you were fed.
Casually, he picked up his fork, twirling a bit of his own pasta around the tines. Without breaking away from his conversation, he held the fork up to you, hoping you’d take a bite without really thinking about it. It was a small ritual the two of you developed during lengthy family dinners, something you often did automatically if he offered food to you. He felt you shift forward, your mouth wrap around the small bite, and you ate it.
He squeezed your thigh, a flare of affection making his heart pound. Good girl, he thought, but refrained from saying aloud.
The rest of dinner continued like that, Draco keeping your friends talking and distracted while he fed you small bites of his own dinner, your fingers twined with his in your lap. When he held up a bite and you gave small shake of your head, he knew it was because you were actually full, and he set his fork down, satisfied. For now.
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That night in the common room, you were curled up in your chair by the fire, a book open in your lap while everyone pretended to study around you. He watched your eyes, your hands curled around the cover, and you were motionless. No pages turned, no lines devoured.
His worry deepened. Blaise seemed to notice as well, and gave him a curious look, dark brow raised. And of course, Theo caught the exchange, but turned back to his work, pretending he didn’t.
A prickle of suspicion climbed Draco’s neck. Typically, Theo was the first one to make a fuss over someone being in a sour mood due to his inability to tolerate negative emotions, but this time, he stayed silent.
Very odd, indeed.
But he could worry about Theo later. Draco lifted himself from the couch and walked over to you, dropping onto the floor in front of your chair. He tilted his head back, resting it against your shins. You reached down, dragging your fingers through his hair while you continued “reading” your book. He let his eyes flutter closed at the sensation, and tried to think of a way to draw you out of your head.
Lips pressed against his forehead, your perfume wafting over him, and he hummed in appreciation, reaching up to cradle your face. You leaned your cheek into his palm, and he titled his head back a little further to connect your lips in a soft kiss.
Your lips moved against his, brief and tender, and some of his tension unwound. It didn’t seem that you were upset with him, which was a relief. But, he wasn’t any closer to figuring out what exactly was troubling you.
“I’m going to go to bed,” you murmured in his ear, and he blinked in surprise, checking his watch.
It wasn’t even nine o’clock.
“So early, love? Are you feeling alright?” He turned to face you, rising to his knees. The group noticed, but he was too concerned to care. He placed the back of his hand on your forehead, your cheek, your neck, but you waved him away.
“I’m fine, D. Just tired,” you said, averting your eyes from his and rising from your chair.
“Baby—”
You leaned down and kissed him again, cutting off his protest. “I love you, I’ll see you in the morning,” you said, pecking his cheek one more time before walking towards the girls dormitory and ascending the stairs.
Draco slumped back to the ground, scrubbing a hand over his face.
“What did you do to her?” Pansy accused after a moment of tense silence.
“Nothing,” he snapped, though it was mostly toothless.
“She was acting strangely at dinner too,” Blaise noted. “She didn’t even have dessert.”
“Yeah, and she loves those chocolate things—what are they called?” Theo chimed in.
“Cauldron cakes,” Draco answered, glaring at them, irked that they were paying that close of attention to you. That was his job.
“Are you going to follow her?” Blaise asked, glancing at the stairs.
“No, he should give her some space,” Pansy said, giving him a pointed look.
“I’m perfectly capable of managing my girlfriend’s needs. Thank you,” he bit, and they fell quiet. He would leave you be, for now, but if you were still in a funk tomorrow evening, he’d be forced to intervene.
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You were decidedly still unlike yourself come the following morning, and when he saw you during your shared Potion’s class. He continued to monitor the situation, trying to be patient like you often asked him to be, but that went out the window when you returned from your Herbology class with Theo in tears.
As soon as Draco saw your red and puffy eyes, he was on his feet. You ran straight into his chest, burying your wet face in his robes and digging your chilled hands into his back, trembling as your tears returned in earnest.
“Darling, what’s happened? What’s going on?” He cooed, wrapping his arms around your shaking torso, petting your hair in an attempt to soothe you. You didn’t respond, just held him tighter as you cried.
Theo tried to slip around the two of you, but Draco pinned him with a glare.
“What happened?” Draco hissed at him.
“Her Flutterby bush is dying,” Theo whispered, and you started to cry harder.
Shit. You’d slaved half the semester over this Flutterby bush in Herbology, it was your pride and joy, and you often stayed after hours with Professor Sprout to tend to it and the rest of the greenhouse. You had the greenest thumb Draco had ever encountered, and that plant was your baby. There was no way it would just suddenly die.
Draco raised a brow, and Theo made a ‘tell you later’ face. He nodded his head to dismiss his friend and turned his attention back to you, his poor, sensitive girl.
“Baby, it’s going to be alright. I’m sure you’ll figure out what’s going on—”
You shook you head. “It doesn’t make sense,” you sniffled, your voice muffled by his shirt. “It was perfectly fine. There’s no bugs or blights, I don’t understand.” You lifted your face, cheeks streaked with tears and lashes spikey, your eyes rimmed with red. The state of you made his heart ache.
“It’ll be alright,” he whispered, wiping your cheeks with his thumbs and pressing a kiss to your nose. “If anyone can save it, you can. You’re brilliant, love.” He used his sleeve to wipe your eyes and your nose before bundling you into his side. “Come on, relax for a bit with Pansy. That’ll help you think a little more clearly, yeah?”
You nodded, letting him deposit you on the couch beside your friend, who immediately abandoned what she was doing to fuss over you.
He kissed the top of your head, satisfied that you were well looked after for the time being. “I love you, I’ll be right back, okay?” He murmured, and you nodded again.
Theo was waiting for him in the hall. “Okay, so don’t get mad,” he said, holding his hands up.
Draco’s anger instantly flared. “Don’t give me a reason to get mad then.”
“She told me not to tell you because she knew you’d get all—” Theo gestured vaguely at Draco. “All…this.”
“Out with it, Nott,” he growled, fully prepared to punch his best friends nose through the back of his skull. What could you possibly want to keep from him?
“We think someone poisoned her plant,” Theo said, grimacing.
Draco froze, rage flaring so suddenly it darkened his vision. “What?” he snarled.
“We can’t say for sure yet,” Theo said hurriedly, trying to get ahead of the oncoming storm. “But there’s this one guy—”
“Who?”
“Reinhardt? Renfield? Something like that, I don’t know, he’s a Gryffindor. But he—Draco, where are you going?”
Draco was already halfway down the hall, formulating a plan in his mind about how to find this guy, and how to make him wish he’d never been born.
Theo grabbed his shoulder. “Listen, I have a better idea than storming the Gryffindor common room,” he said, and Draco paused.
“Go on.”
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Draco loitered outside the Greenhouse, hidden by some trees, a stupid plastic ear in his hand. Theo had the other tucked into his robes, and Draco could hear Sprout beginning her lecture through their connection.
Draco sighed. This was ridiculous, he should just waltz in there and figure out exactly who this—
“Hey, y/n,” he heard someone mutter, an unfamiliar male voice, and he immediately held up the ear to listen. “Flutterby’s not lookin’ so good. Maybe I could help clear away some of the dead stuff?”
Draco's ears started ringing so loudly, he almost missed your response.
“I'm killing it just fine on my own, Renley, I don't need any assistance from you.”
He heard Theo snicker in the background, and Draco smiled. Atta girl.
“My mandrakes are thriving, thank you,” Renley replied, his voice tight with indignation. “It's a real shame about yours, though. Probably would have gotten you top marks.”
You didn't respond, and Draco gripped a tree branch to stop himself from charging through the glass to get this audacious fucker.
“Fuck off, Renford,” Theo warned, the feed clouded by his robes rustling.
“It's Renley,” the prick corrected, his voice a little louder, and Draco could practically hear Theo roll his eyes. “So, what do you say, sweetheart?” Sweetheart? Oh, this fucker was a dead man walking. “I'm willing to stay after and help you out. I'm good with poisons—”
“Poison’s?” You asked, a snarky lilt to your voice, and Draco loosed a relieved exhale despite the implication. For the first time in days, you sounded like yourself. “Who said anything about poison?”
“Oh, I—uh—”
“Reindeer, how did you know her plant was poisoned?” Theo prodded, his smirk audible.
“I don't! It's obv—it’s probably not p-poison!” Renley stammered.
“What's this about poison?” Sprout interrupted at the same moment Blaise, Crabbe, and Goyle emerged from the treeline.
“Check fucking mate,” Draco mouthed, grinning.
“Professor Sprout, I do believe Renley here just confessed to poisoning y/n’s beloved Flutterby bush,” Theo said.
“Is this true, dearie?” Sprout asked you.
“Yes ma’am, it explains the strange phenomena we noted, as well as the sudden nature of the ailment. Renley’s been taunting me for days, and finally his mouth got ahead of his brain,” you said, poised as a Queen, and Draco was so proud of you it hurt.
Sprout gasped. “Mr. Renley! To Dumbledore's office this instant!”
“Crabbe, Goyle, grab him,” Draco ordered, stuffing the ear into his robes.
The two of them lumbered over the door, staying out of sight until the culprit stepped out into the sunlight, and Goyle grabbed Renley by the shoulders and started to drag him back around the Greenhouse.
“Hey! What the fuck—” his words pinched to a strangled whine when he saw Draco and Blaise waiting a few feet away, arms folded over their chests, completely hidden from the rest of campus.
Goyle shoved him to the ground at Draco's feet, and the coward was already sniveling.
Draco crouched down, nose to nose with the fucker that made his girl miserable, and smiled. “Was it worth it, Renley?” Draco asked, his voice low.
“Look, Malfoy. I didn't mean to—”
Draco didn't give him a chance to finish his paltry excuse and cocked his fist back, slamming his knuckles square in the side of his jaw. The bone crunched under his fist, sending Renley flying sideways in a spray of spit and blood, and Draco rose, clenching and unclenching his aching hand.
Normally, he'd step back and let the others get their hands dirty, but you were his girl. And if anyone was going to defend your honor, it would be him.
“No, no please!” Renley begged when Goyle hauled him back up. Draco punched him again, dead on the nose, then the temple, then the sternum. Goyle let Renley fall, groveling and weeping as blood ran down his face, his eyes already half-swollen shut.
Draco grabbed him by the hair, lifting his head up so he could whisper in his ear. “You're lucky it wasn't poison,” he snarled, and dropped Renley’s head into the dirt. “Leave him on the front steps of the castle,” he said to Crabbe and Goyle, who immediately pulled the boy up and started dragging him back towards the castle.
Blaise chuckled. “That was fucking brutal, mate.”
Draco looked down at his bruised and bloody knuckles, the pain bright and deliciously satisfying, his signet ring splattered with red. “Like I said, he's lucky I didn't decide to poison him.”
The chatter of students filled the air, and he looked up to see the Greenhouse emptying. Theo headed straight for them, glancing at Draco's knuckles and the blood in the grass before breaking out in a wild grin.
“Sorry I missed it,” Theo laughed.
“Where is she?” Draco asked.
“Staying behind to administer the antidote. Sprout is leaving her to ensure Renley is dealt with accordingly.”
“Well, she certainly won't be disappointed,” Blaise snickered.
“So she’s alone?” Draco asked, raising an eyebrow. He was hoping to clean himself up before seeing you, but wasn't sure he could resist the temptation. Not with his blood still running hot and your smart little voice echoing in his mind.
“Yep.” Theo smirked. “See ya’ back in the common room.” He and Blaise turned and started heading back to the castle, leaving Draco alone.
He rounded the greenhouse, knocking with his sore knuckles so he didn't startle you.
“Draco? What are you—saints, your hands!” You cried, rushing over to open the door for him. You grabbed for his hands, face pinched with worry.
“I'm fine, love,” he cooed, letting you fuss. The air in the greenhouse was thick and warm, coaxing him in like a embrace. It smelled fresh and lush, sweet soil and green leaves, like you.
Merlin, he couldn't think straight with you looking at him like that.
“Who did—” you paused, eyes narrowing. “Renley?”
He smirked. “Maybe.”
“Draco!” You huffed, dropping his hands. “I had it under control!”
“I know you did! You were amazing! I just...accelerated the consequences.”
You glared at him, but he could see you softening by the second.
“Baby, I'm fine. And he'll be fine in like, four to five business days.”
“Draco!” You shouted, but you were smiling. He fucking loved what you called his name in that exasperated but undeniably affectionate voice. “You don't have to get involved all the time. I'm perfectly capable of fighting my own battles, and Professor Sprout was working with me to solve it and—”
Draco reached out, pinching your cheeks with one hand, pursing your pouting lips and dragging you closer to him. “I'd do it again in a heartbeat. No one fucks with you so long as I'm breathing, is that clear?”
You nodded, eyes round and sweet like honey.
He released your face, sliding his hand into the hair at the nape of your neck and craning your head upwards. “Can I kiss you now? Or would you like to keep telling me off?”
You leaned forward, pressing your lips to his in a playful, smiley kiss. “Anything for my hero.”
“Anything?” Draco purred, walking you back into the long work table. You gasped, arching against his chest, and he caught the sound with another kiss, slipping his tongue past your lips to taste you.
Your tongue tangled with his, so eager as you pulled his tie to bring him closer. He guided your tongue into his mouth, sucking lightly before releasing you to bite your lip, toying with your mouth like he owned it.
And he could feel how much you loved it, your hips pressing against his as your hands wandered his chest, unable to pick a resting place.
He smiles, moving his hands to grip your hips. In a quick movement, he spun you around. Your hands slapped onto the table to catch yourself, your perfect ass pressing back against his rapidly hardening cock.
“Draco,” you whined, trying to look over your shoulder at him.
He tsked, sliding up your skirt, admiring the way his ruined knuckles looked against the soft flesh. “Do you want me to be gentle with you, darling?” He already knew what your answer would be, especially after a few stressful days, but he felt inclined to double check.
You shook your head side to side, pressing your ass back into his hands. “No.”
He smiled, squeezing the ample flesh, then delivered a swift slap that made you gasp. “That's my girl. You want me to scare away all those bad thoughts? Turn your brain off for a bit?” He slid his right hand between your legs, gliding two fingers over the damp spot on your panties.
You nodded, nails scratching along the wood when he applied a little pressure, moving his hand in a slow circle.
“Words, love,” he said, pausing his movement.
“Yes, baby. Please,” you whined, and his cock gave a painful lurch against his thigh.
“Colloportus,” he murmured, flicking his wand to lock the Greenhouse door. “Don't move,” he ordered, then walked over to the sink, washing the blood from his hands and muttering a quiet episkey to fix most of the damage on his skin. Some cuts remained, and his hands were still sore and slightly bruised, but it wasn't nearly as bad.
Satisfied, he turned his attention back to you, where you remained perfectly still, nibbling at your lower lip. In quick movement, he pulled down your panties, letting the fall around your ankles, and kicked your feet further apart, forcing you to lay your chest against the table.
“There we go,” he purred, bringing his hand back between your legs.
You were already soaked, hot and slick as his middle finger swiped through your sex. He started massaging your clit, quick, light circles that had you moaning breathlessly.
“Better, darling? Nothing to worry about besides being my good girl.” He moved away from your clit and eased his middle finger inside of you, his signet ring kissing your entrance before he curled his finger up. Your walls fluttered around him, sucking back against his finger when he pulled it out, only to graciously stretch for him when he added a second.
“Fuck, D,” you moaned, rocking your hips against his hand. “You said you wouldn't be gentle “
He smirked, enraptured with the way your pretty little cunt yielded for his battered hand. “Just so pretty,” he hummed, leaning down to whisper in your ear, pressing you harder against the table. “Can't help but worship you a little.”
You opened your mouth to reply, but he slammed his fingers inside of you, drilling into your channel with sloppy, punishing strokes. You cried out, feet sliding around on the floor, but he had you pinned and at his mercy.
“This better, brat?” He growled, nipping at your ear when you keened for him, unable to formulate a response. “Oh, how that fucker wishes he could see you now,” he drawled, straightening while his fingers fucked into you. “What'd he call you? Sweetheart?” He chuckled. “Sweet doesn't begin to cover it.”
“How did you—”
He slipped his fingers out to work your clit, the bud swelling under his touch as your orgasm built, and your words twisted into a moan. He tried to stay focused, keep you on the edge until he was sheathed inside of you, but couldn't bring himself to stop just yet.
“Are you sweet, baby?” He asked, swatting your ass cheek, enjoying the way your flesh rippled.
“Only for you,” you gasped, starting to tremble as that knot wound tighter and tighter.
“That's right,” he praised, undoing his trousers and taking his cock in his hand. He was insanely hard, the head a deep pink, pearly precum beading from the slit. He pumped himself twice to relieve some of the ache, then notched himself at your entrance, not pausing his assault on your clit for a moment. “All fucking mine,” he growled at the same moment he thrust inside of you, burying himself to the hilt.
You cried out, muscles contracting hard around him, and he groaned low in his throat. You were so fucking tight, gooey and supple when you weren't squeezing the life out of him. He drew back a few inches before snapping his hips forward, gripping your ass cheek in his free hand to keep you spread for him as he pounded into you.
He felt your orgasm hit the second before you did, your cunt clamping down on him a heartbeat before you screamed, your whole body locking up before going completely limp. He didn't let up, no matter how much you shook, how much you begged. Your tears left damp spots on the wood, your knees trying to buckle inwards, but he planted his feet on the inside of yours, forcing you to stay upright.
“Good fucking girl,” he rasped, snaking a hand up your spine to grip your hair and pull your head back. “Doing so well for me, sweet thing.” He was panting, the heat of the greenhouse coupled with the exterior making sweat collect around his hairline and drip down his spine. His knuckles burned from the salt, hands ached from being used long past when they should have been bandaged, but he didn't give a single fuck.
“Draco, shit—fuck me so good.” You reached back for him, nails dragging along his forearm, and he felt himself teeter on the edge of release, his balls drawing up tight as liquid heat spread through his pelvis.
“Give me one more, baby. I know you can. Then I'll water my favorite plant.”
Your pussy clenched at his words, a wanton moan falling from your lips, and he smiled. You were such a little freak, his little freak, and he loved you all the more it.
“You like being my pretty little houseplant? All mine to take care of?” Fuck, he was close, rambling in an attempt to distract himself and spend just a little longer in the delicious heat of your body.
“Yes, yes—fuck!” You were coming again, your whole body convusling as it ripped through you, and he was done for. He came with a yell, hips stuttering against your ass as he pumped rope after rope of release into your spasming cunt.
“Bloody hell, baby,” he moaned, bracing his hands on the table as he came down, his hips involuntarily rocking into your greedy warmth. You, poor thing, were left drooling and trembling, completely boneless, held up entirely by the table and his hips. He leaned forward, pressing kisses into your hair. “Did so good, love. So fucking perfect,” he murmured, throat tight with affection.
“Squishin’ me,” you giggled, squirming beneath him, and he straightened, nearly toppling over himself at the weak feeling in his knees.
“Sorry, darling,” he chuckled, and you groaned, pushing yourself up on trembling arms. He moved his feet, letting you close your legs, and he hissed through his teeth at the new tightness around his softening cock, stealing a final thrust before slipping out of you.
“Mm, how did you know he called me sweetheart?” You asked, peeking over your shoulder at him while he grabbed his wand to clean you both up.
“I have my methods,” he replied, righting your clothes and helping you stand up, relishing in the lingering tremble in your limbs.
“Were you spying on me, Draco Malfoy?” You teased, tugging him down by the tie so you were face to face.
He smirked. “Perhaps.”
“What a horrible invasion of privacy,” you snickered, giving him a playful peck.
“You want to punish me for it?” He nipped at your lower lip and you grinned, pushing lightly on his chest.
“Enough you, I have to administer the antidote before my plant gets any sicker.”
“Good thing I already cured mine,” he teased, and you swatted him before slipping out of his arms.
“You're insufferable.”
“And you're adorable.”
You grabbed some items from the shelves and a watering can, then paused, turning to look at him, a deadly serious look on your face. “Can we get takeaway after this?”
He snorted, his heart doing a giddy little flip. “Of course we can.”
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nottsangel · 2 months ago
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THREE. choking — draco malfoy
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warnings — smut 18+. unprotected vaginal sex. choking. creampie.
kinkmas mlist. more.
“you feel so perfect, princess, fuck.” draco growls, his hands firmly gripping your hips as you roll them on top of him, his throbbing cock buried so deep inside of you, brushing against your cervix. with your hands resting on his bare chest, you slowly start to bounce up and down, his erection dragging so deliciously along your sensitive inner-walls, your arousal growing with every second.
“yeah? you like it when i ride you, baby?” you breathlessly ask, glancing down at him through half-lidded eyes, the tip of his cock hitting against all the right spots with every movement. draco’s fingers dig deeper into your skin, guiding your body up and down on him like you’re nothing more than his to use, and you feel his cock twitching inside of you, knowing he’s close already.
“oh, yeah… quite the sight, really. so… so beautiful on top of me.” he grunts, biting down on his lip as his grey eyes lock with yours, a small smirk forming on his face at the sight of you— your pretty tits bouncing with each thrust as you gaze down at him with those irresistible, fuck-me eyes.
to his surprise, your wandering hand then slowly snakes towards his neck, followed by your fingers wrapping around it and applying slight pressure to it. you can tell by the look in his eyes that he’s reluctant at first, but then a soft moan escapes him as the lightheaded feeling hits, only adding to the immense pleasure he’s already experiencing. without warning, he suddenly thrusts up into you, setting a relentless pace.
“oh, fu— fuck! draco!” you scream out, instinctively squeezing his throat even tighter and causing draco to see stars, his mouth hanging wide open. his firm hands grip your hips so tightly at this point, knowing it will leave bruises for days, as he pushes you hard against his own thrusts.
“bloody hell, keep going, please… just like that”
he uncontrollably spills deep inside of you at the otherworldly sensation and whiny, loud moans leave his mouth. with his sperm spilling out of you, trickling down along your inner thighs, you come not too long after him, his deep, frantic thrusts making the tip rub against that one spot continuously, sending you over the edge.
with your eyes closed, your head thrown back and your back arched, you’re momentarily lost in bliss, slowly recovering from your intense orgasm— until draco’s raspy voice quickly snaps you back to reality.
“you can— uh, let go of me now, darling.” draco manages to utter in a strained voice, causing your eyes to widen as you realise, immediately letting go of him and he takes in a deep, relieved breath.
“oh, fuck, sorry, sorry, sorry, baby. i, uh— i guess i liked choking you a little… too much.”
draco let’s out a low chuckle, biting his swollen lip as he gazes up at you through hazy, half-lidded eyes. “well, that makes the two of us, sweetheart.”
── ⟢ ��⸝⸝
reminder: reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated and keep me motivated. ty! ♡
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dittos-blog-dylanobrien · 7 months ago
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Can you guys PLEASE stop tagging (character) X reader IF ITS NOT THAT CHARACTER 😭 I'm sick and tired of searching (character) X reader and it's every different character possible X reader like😭😭
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sectumsempraaa · 8 months ago
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Send Him My Regards
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Pairing: fem!reader x idk they’re all in love with you LOL, but Draco's down bad
Summary: You aren’t one to provoke the aggressive nature of your closest friend group (a bunch of reckless Slytherin boys) but when the new hire at your favorite bookstore makes you uncomfortable, you’re forced to ask for their… “help.”
Word Count: 2.5k
Featuring: The whole damn crew. Draco, Theo, Mattheo, Pansy, Blaise, Lorenzo
TW: Implied non-consensual touching/comments, implied violence, panic/mental distress, cursing, disgustingly fluffy
Notes: This is based on something I recently experienced, as many of you have, too. I tried my best to convey my very real thoughts on this matter. Avoiding threatening men is a constant, everyday struggle. If you can relate, this is for you.
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“Love, you already own every book in the world.” Draco proclaims, staggering behind you with his pack of Slytherin watch dogs.
Whenever you go anywhere as a group, they always let you lead so they can keep an eye on your surroundings. You think it’s silly, but it’s their thing, and you secretly appreciate the protection, so you let them be. It makes them feel important, and you find it endearing.
“I most certainly do not! Only like… two hundred.” You respond, muttering the number under your breath.
“Then I’ll buy you every book in the world. Must we come here every weekend?” he groans. Of course, Mattheo interrupts, shooting Draco a furrowed brow.
“Mate, for the love of god, either stop coming on these trips, or use some of that fancy cash you love to go on about to take us elsewhere. Pick one.” Mattheo sneers. Naturally, he’s carrying your bag and coat, making sure you never lift a finger. His response earns a smirk from you.
You’re not really listening though, more so taking in the beauty of Hogsmeade. You love escaping the castle for the little town on perfect, brisk days like this one, hitting everyone’s favorite shops and downing a couple of butterbeers.
The boys continue arguing in the background as you make your way down the cobblestone street, your hair blowing softly in the chill of the November breeze. Blaise and Theo share an eye roll with each other before coming to your side, leaving the two to bicker as they trail behind. Theo steps in, heaving a dramatic sigh and throwing an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close to him. His words drip with that rich Italian accent.
“Ignore them, bella. We’ll wait for you outside.” You smile at him and he gives you a wink. A man of few words, but oozing with charm. He will occasionally act as a grounding force when the others get rowdy. You hear Draco drag on about how he “earned” his money or whatever.
“Oh wow, a real rags to riches story!” Mattheo shouts, lunging at Draco. You shake your head laughing with Blaise, sending you a look that reads as “I’ll take care of them.” You enter the bookshop, making the bell ring as the door opens.
The first thing you notice is the shiny new display of fantasy books you’ve been dying to get your hands on. You make your way towards it, not being able to contain the thrill on your face. You’ve been waiting for this series to restock and here they are, all of them, ready to be yours. You touch the smooth covers, tracing your fingers over the author’s name on each one.
The second thing you notice is… him. Your heart drops as your sheer excitement instantly morphs into dread.
Please, not again. 
The new hire at this bookstore has ruined the last couple of trips for you. You were hoping he would stop working weekends but… there he is. And he eyes you right away, like you’re on his radar.
The first time you came in, it was the comments. Calling you pet names, pointing out his favorite features on you, and it was relentless. You somehow got through it and attempted to shake it off, praying he would quit or just get fired before your next trip.
The second time, it was the touching. Brushing against your back when trying to “get through”, his hand grabbing your arm too tightly while he led you down an aisle. You tripped on your way out while trying to make a swift escape, and of course he was there to “catch you”, only giving him an excuse to grip both hands around your waist, hesitant to release you.
Your eyes go between the book display and his movements as he starts creeping his way out from behind the counter. You have to make a split-second decision to either stay and endure, or leave safely and empty handed. It pains you but your nerves heighten as he gets closer. Panic sets in as colors blur and sounds become muffled. Your brain and your body and your heart scream together in unison: “danger.”
You burst through the door back outside with a speed and force that could only be conjured by your anxiety. Facing the door, you stumble backwards and let out a gasp when you land in someone’s familiar arms. You recognize the brown suede material of Theo’s jacket as you attempt to catch your breath. It seems no amount of oxygen could suffice at the moment.
“Bella, bella, what’s wrong?” He asks urgently, hoisting you back up to your feet. The others notice the incident and immediately stride their way over. Draco, always leading the pack, puts his hands on your shoulders and lowers his eyes to your level.
“Hey, look at me,” he coos, forcing you out of your episode. He speaks with a tenderness that is almost heartbreaking. “What happened, love? Are you quite alright?”
There’s too many thoughts and feelings swimming around in your head to give an honest answer. Everything is moving in slow motion and you need time to regroup. Swallowing your fear, you decide to lie, at least for now. The last thing you want to do is impulsively encourage their hostility.
“Yeah, I’m good,” you respond, avoiding his gaze. He looks at you, deciding whether to believe you. “Really, I am.” You add. He glances down to your empty hands.
“You left without a book. You always buy a book.” He says, speaking with suspicion in his voice. The others stay back, knowing when to give Draco his space. They all adore you, but Draco would do things you’d rather not think about in order to keep you happy and safe. And he has. It’s been like this since you can remember. 
“Just didn’t have what I wanted, is all.” You explained. The doubt on his face is evident. He speaks just above a whisper.
“Y/N, you know we would take care of anyone that so much as breathes near you wrong, yeah? It’s important to me that you know this.”
Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Mattheo ditching his cigarette and cracking his knuckles. You give a small nod and a shrug, releasing yourself from his hands and walking back in the direction of the castle. Your head is still reeling, but not enough to block out the boys’ debriefing behind you.
First, Mattheo. “She rarely ever gets like that.”
Then Theo. “Only when she panics.” And Blaise. “Her face was almost as pale as Malfoy’s.”
And Draco, but with a tinge of hurt in his voice. “She barely looked at me.” He glances in your direction, contemplating. “Give her time. We’ll look after her tonight. Someone tell Pansy.”
The rest you don’t hear, feeling embarrassment creeping in. You wish they’d just let it go and forget about it, cowering from the attention it’s bringing to you. Your pace quickens as the heat spreads across your cheeks, eager to be alone in your hideout at the castle.
Too focused on your path, you slam into someone’s chest as they’re coming out of the bakery you’re passing.
“Ugh, Lorenzo, I’m so sorry,” you say frantically, smoothing out his jacket and moving past him, never meeting his gaze. His face contorts with confusion and concern. He watches you take off then turns back to the group.
“Something off with that one...” The boys give him a knowing look.
“No shit, Berkshire.” Mattheo sneers.
After what felt like an eternity, you had reached the castle and darted to your hideout: a corner balcony high up in one of the towers facing the pitch. Leaning your elbows on the edge of the balcony, you watch the sun slowly descend into its eventual bed of twilight. Then, the spiraling begins.
Thinking back, you’ve never really dealt with something like this because of who your friends were. No one dared to even step too close to you, aware of what the consequences would be. But you weren’t on school grounds this time. You felt… unprepared. Lost. Violated. Guilty.
Does running away make me weak?
Why can’t I stand up for myself?
How did he gain control so quickly?
Did I ask for it? Did I do something wrong?
This is too much. It feels ridiculous and quite frankly enraging that you considered this being your fault. The stress is exhausting.
You let yourself relax, laying down on a stone bench and staring up at the black night sky. You start to mentally identify the stars in view, something Draco taught you to do when you’d get anxious. It always worked, as evident by the many hours you fell asleep. Upon awakening, you gasp as your watch reads 1AM.
You hear footsteps rustling around nearby, and echoing voices calling your name. Shit. They’re looking for me.
Sneaking around corners, you tiptoe around, trying not to get yourself noticed. Maybe, just maybe you can get back to the dungeons without getting caught. Until you hear the voice of your best friend, who admittedly, you could really use right now.
“Pans?” You whisper, catching a glimpse of her shadow down the corridor. Her head whips around before running to you urgently.
“Where the hell have you been?! The boys are going mad looking for-” She stops abruptly when you force yourself into her arms, hugging her tight and burying your face in her shoulder. Her tone softens to that of an older sister. “Oh, Y/N,” She rubs your back while your eyes well up.
“Fuck, Pans, I don’t know what to do.” You say through subtle sobs, holding back as much as you can for her sake. She looks at you with a questioning look before your words stumble out, caked in distress.
“There’s a boy at the bookstore, MY bookstore, and-and, and he’s there all the time now, following me around, and…”
“Y/N, calm down. You’re okay. It’s just me, sweetie.” She says, running a hand through your hair as her eyes shift to someone behind you; their voice deep, slow, and filled with angst.
“There’s… a… what?” He asks, the voice you recognize as Draco’s ringing off the walls. Mattheo, Theo, and Blaise walk into frame behind him when they realize he found you. The sight of them strikes you; your fiercely loyal group of friends that would go to the ends of the earth for you. To your surprise, you are relieved to see them.
But their anger is palpable. Draco’s jaws clenched tight. Theo’s heavy eyes claiming the darkness. Blaise’s hands rolled into fists. Lorenzo steps forward, eyes soft, holding out a gentle hand. 
“Let’s get you to the common room, and you can tell us-” he turns to the other boys before emphasizing his next words, “-what you’re comfortable with, if you want to talk at all.”
You nod in agreement, taking his hand while Pansy takes your other one. In your head, you’re thanking whatever higher power put Lorenzo on this planet. The voice of reason amidst all chaos.
It’s nearly 2AM now. You’re sat on the common room couch in front of the blazing fireplace under a mess of blankets, warming up after your frigid nap. Theo on your left, Lorenzo on your right holding your tea, Draco and Mattheo sitting on the coffee table facing you, with Blaise and Pansy on the floor. All with mixed looks of curiosity, empathy, and sheer rage.
After thinking it over, you decided to prioritize yourself for once. A lot of people don’t realize how hard a decision that can be. This is a risky favor to ask for. But there’s only a couple truly precious things in the world you can’t live without, and this is one of them. You want your fucking bookstore back.
So, you tell them. Everything.
As you recall the events of the last few weeks, you feel the air become tense. Blaise looks like he’s about to combust. Theo reaches for your hand, letting you fiddle with the bracelet on his wrist. You hear Pansy call this boy every name in the book under her breath, your favorite being “bastardly filth”. Draco and Mattheo listen, periodically looking at each other with knowing stares, having their own wordless conversation. You know those looks. Plotting looks.
When you finish, you’re briefly met with silence, temporarily paralyzing you. Do they believe me?
You break the stillness. “I suppose I’m making a big deal out of something quite trivial.” You say to them, diminishing your story, and for what?
Mattheo stands up, ushering Blaise and Pansy out of the way as he kneels in front of you. He rests a comforting hand on your knee, his eyes glowing with brutal honesty.
“It’s really very simple, little dove. You’re in danger, we take down the threat. I can assure you we all agree that your safety is anything but trivial.” He states. He gives your knee a squeeze. “Gonna be honest though, Y/N. It’s going to be ugly for him when he meets us.”
You look up to Draco, who’s been oddly quiet since you all got back. You hold his gaze as you respond.
“Good. Send him my regards.” You reply, earning a wicked grin from him, his eyes suddenly crinkled and brimming with pride. Everyone shifts a bit in their seats, wrapping up the late night discussion.
Draco strides over to you, taking the teacup from your hands and setting it down on a side table. He looks so handsome like this, facing you on the couch with his hair disheveled and the top of his shirt buttons undone. The glow from the fire accenting his features, so sharp yet yearning for sleep. He takes your face in his warm hands.
“I need you to hear me right now. Listening?” he asks. You give an unconvincing nod as his thumb caresses your cheek. Yes, but damn you make it hard to.
His stare intensifies, pulling you from your trance and forcing you to dial in to his statement.
“Never feel bad for wanting them to pay for the pain and discomfort they inflict on you. Their reasons were senseless, yours are justified.”
For the first time tonight, just for a moment, you feel sure of yourself. You wrap your arms around him, pulling yourself closer, his body becoming your safe haven. His hands nestle you to his chest as you feel him place a kiss on the top of your head.
He loves you and you know it. He’ll wait for this to pass, for things to be right. He’ll wait for you to feel whole and secure again. And he’ll do whatever it takes to help you get you there, even if that means giving you space.
As Pansy sees the two of you off to bed, you repeat his sentiment to her. “My god, that bloody boy is down bad, and I mean bad, for you Y/N.”
Ascending the staircase to your dorm, you faintly hear Draco informing the boys of the plan.
“Tomorrow. Noon.” He demands. The boys nod. He pauses before adding another instruction.
“Oh, and we’re gonna need a bag. We’ve got books to bring home.”
🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍
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dixonsfawn · 2 months ago
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𖥔 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐎 𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐅𝐎𝐘 𝐏 𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐒 𖥔
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⊹ draco watching the way he fills you up
⊹ relieving some of his tension after a long day of being a meanie
⊹ fucking before class so he can think about you all day
⊹ you were being a brat and draco has to shut you up somehow
⊹ when you can’t even have a shower without him needing you
⊹ your date with draco ends with you on all fours
⊹ you spoke back to draco and now it’s time for your punishment
⊹ dom!draco loves choking you as he fucks your tight pussy
⊹ he can’t keep his hands off of you
⊹ draco making you work hard for that malfoy heir
⊹ he finally gets you home after you teasing him all night
⊹ sneaking into draco’s dorm in the middle of the night
⊹ best friend!draco taking your virginity
⊹ waking him up in the middle of the night because you’re needy
⊹ an absolute must whenever you’re watching movies
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btsbabe7 · 2 months ago
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Keep Me (In the Shadows)
Word Count: 5.4k
Pairing: Draco Malfoy x female reader
Warnings!: 18+, unprotected, impregnation
Synopsis: The walls of Hogwarts contain many secrets of their own, but on a late night, you and Draco Malfoy find yourselves uncovering one of your very own.
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“Is it true,” Draco begins, voice ragged and rough around the edges, “that everything in this blasted castle resets at midnight?”
You watch the way the hem of his ebony robe propels on a soft wind over the dusty cobblestone tiles of the corridor. He remains a few strides ahead as he always does, walking quickly, yet aimlessly. He’d once told you it’d been his way of deflecting attention. If his eyes remained straight ahead, naturally he’d be unaware that you’re following his every move or anyone else for that matter.
So, you trail him inconspicuously, keeping your eyes glued to the empty corridor walls, the back of his robe, and his platinum hair with no real destination in your mind either. Your only goal is not getting caught alone with him this late in the night when students are forbidden to be outside of their dorms. If one were to stop you two, say a professor, you’d both lie and say you were returning to your respective areas. Draco’s speed walking would be believable enough.
“I’m sure there may be some logic behind that, but ultimately, I doubt it…”
“And you and Potter? Did that relationship reset at midnight? Better yet, what’s the logic behind that?”
Draco practically spits the words out in spite and you come to a sudden halt as they echo throughout the corridor. His words are far too large for a space so empty, for a space where perked, attentive ears may overhear or eavesdrop. In a corridor where lurking eyes may pry around corners in search of the next day’s gossip, you have to be careful. It’d happened before, not to you and Draco, but other students, and their secret escapades had been aired out to all who dared to listen over the next morning’s pumpkin juice. Yet, Draco cares more about this than the idea of being caught and the risk of detention. You can sense it in the way his shoulders and back stiffen with his walk.
Tossing your left arm over your right, you give the upper portion a soft squeeze while inhaling deeply through your nose. Dust tickles your nostrils and the faint smell of leftovers fill the air. You take in the toastiness of roasted chicken, the garlicky herbs that had been marinated into bite-sized potatoes, the sweet cinnamon sugar coating that had been dusted over pumpkin pasties and handcrafted pies, and the savory aroma of buttered rolls as they all congregate in a single whiff. With a sharp exhale through your mouth, you spew your thoughts.
“And who told you that? Your loyal gang of servants over this morning’s breakfast? Crabbe and Goyle? Zabini perhaps? Is that why you avoided me in Potions today?”
Draco stops mid-step and glances down at the obsidian leather crafting the wholecut Oxford shoes laced at his feet. His inhale is just as sharp as your exhale had been and he spins on the heel so quickly that the violent whip of his robe is enough to take your breath away, even several steps away. His eyes laser in on you and the space between your bodies suddenly feels smaller. Tighter. Suffocating.
His strides are few, long and confident, and you know he’ll land in front of you before you have a chance to finalize your true opening argument. With the click, clack, clicking of his expensive shoes bringing him closer, you whimper.
“It doesn’t matter who told me. I want to know if it’s true. What they’re saying about you and Potter getting back together, dating again, and when you were planning to tell me. All these nights we’ve been sneaking about the castle together and you didn’t bother mentioning it,” he hisses the words in a rush and sneers at the thought of you with the oh so perfect chosen one while he’s left on the sidelines. “You didn’t tell me you were considering it, considering him again. You didn’t mention it on the observation deck of the Astronomy Tower, not in stacks of the Restricted Section, not in your dorm nor mine, and certainly not here, in this blasted corridor. Why not mention it a week ago when y—“
“Don’t finish that sentence, Draco,” you snarl.
His brows pinch at the challenge, but your eyes go wide in alert from the words you know were close to escaping his lips. Lewd and shameful they would have been had they reached the atmosphere. You glance up and down the seemingly void corridor with those same wild, worried eyes. You know how things can be twisted to snare even the brightest and most innocent of witches, but the words that clung to his tongue wouldn’t need to be twisted in order to ruin you both. Your quick search is fruitless and you let out a shaky sigh while rolling your shoulders back.
“I was going to tell you, Draco, that I was considering it… considering him, again.”
“When?” He demands. “Or were you going to wait until my tongue was halfway down your throat? Again.”
“Before, of course! Merlin… What kind of girl do you take me for, Draco?”
“You and I know exactly what kind of girl you are,” Draco retorts and studies you smugly.
His lips seal in a tight line and fire and ice blaze in the depths of his eyes before he spins once more and storms off in a blinding rage. You watch as he strides off prematurely, before hearing you out. He mutters something about how he knew things were too good to be true as he continues down the endless hall. You watch the way his hand clasps the nape of his neck under his long blonde hair and he keeps it there for a good while.
Once you gather your own thoughts, you hurry your strides in an attempt to mirror him, but you struggle to keep up with his head start and longer strides. The perks of being tall, you remind yourself. When you do catch up, he’s almost at the very end of the corridor, a dead end anyways, but you snatch him to a halt by the hood of his robe.
Draco falters and lets out a guttural groan when the sound of a ripping seam cuts through the silent air in response.
“You’ll pay for this, Y/ln!”
You feel prepared now. You’re ready to make your argument, to stand your ground, to explain yourself. You know that you have the right words sorted out and that with Draco cornered, he’ll have to listen.
Until he turns to face you.
His pink lips are pulled into a grimacing tight-lipped frown and an indented line appears down the center of his forehead where his thick brown brows are drawn together. His eyes shift over your features erratically before settling on yours, sharp like a double edged dagger ready to pierce. Two furious, impenetrable walls of frozen silver. Your body frosts over and you shrink where you stand. You struggle to meet his gaze and chew on the inside of your cheek as your mind goes blank.
You can’t think.
You can hardly breathe.
And when Draco opens his mouth, you wonder how you’re still alive when your heartbeat is racing so rapidly that your chest could easily explode.
“Tell me, Y/n,” he seethes.
A violent flame dances behind the walls of ice in his irises as his gaze flickers over the features of your face in frustration. Your lips are reddened and cracked from nibbling at them in nervousness and your nose appears swollen and puffed as if you’re attempting to hold back tears. Draco would usually swallow his pride seeing you in such a state, but he needs answers, so he settles on the wildness behind your dark eyes before continuing.
“Tell me,” he repeats. “When he fucks you, do you think of me?”
Your eyes dart towards his and your cheeks grow unbearably hot. You choke on the words as if you’re the one who dared spout them out. You’ve never experienced Draco this livid. You’d never heard his words become this vulgar, at least not with you, and that makes you all the more nervous. You’d convinced yourself that these nightly escapades meant nothing to him, that you were nothing more than a girl he could use or discard at his own will. He’s Draco Malfoy for heaven’s sake, and he could have any girl he pleased, that had come with the territory of having power and money at your disposal. You’d thought tonight would be the last night when you’d received his owl and that he’d be alright with that fact.
Clearly you’ve never been more wrong in your entire life.
You watch his tongue glide across the smooth plains of his natural pink lips and the fire blazing quietly in the torches overhead reflect a glistening orange on the thin coat of saliva left behind. You fixate on his features, from those shimmering lips up to the bridge of his nose. Your eyes roam up to the very roots of his platinum blonde hair before retracing your gaze and focusing on his eyes once more. They’ve softened a bit, not from the fire in the torches, but from the fire now kindling between you two.
He lets out a scoff as if he’s annoyed by you, as if you’ve been the pain in his arse all along. Before your brain can register the noise that escapes the base of his throat for a second time, he delves into you.
His lips are the first part of his body that comes into contact with yours. They’re warm against yours and so pillowy soft that you can’t bear pulling away. Instead, you bring your arms up to his collarbones and allow your index finger and thumb to mold into the curved base of his long neck. His artery pulses wildly underneath your grasp and your heart warms at the rhythmic expansion. You love the feeling, the palpitating of thick blood quickening through his body, underneath his skin, all livened by your touch.
Draco takes the final step to close your bodies together more comfortably and brings his arms around your waist to mold you into the perfect contours of his slender body.
“I can’t stop,” he mutters against your mouth and drops his lips into the crook of your neck. “I don’t want to stop, Y/n.”
He knows this will ruin you. It does every single time. With his lips against your neck and his words growing more desperate, lower and needier with each breath. You know exactly what he’s playing at. And yet, you allow your head to tilt back for more. More. More. And more. You’ll always need more of this, more of him. You rake a hand through the hairs lying against the nape of his neck. They’re course, yet silky in your gentle grasp and you close your eyes to the ceiling with a sweet smile as it drives him deeper into your flesh.
“Draco,” you purr.
He doesn’t bother responding with words. He only deepens the way he’s been working his lips against your flesh before allowing his burning tongue to trace a long column up the full length.
With this, you know exactly what is going to happen tonight and you take no desire in stopping it, not for Harry’s sake nor anyone else’s. In this very moment, it’s just you, Draco, and your desperate need for each other.
Need is a fickle thing and the need had begun long ago, long before your months of sneaking around to be together. It started when you were with Harry and Draco’s icy eyes would meet yours from across the room. Potions, the Great Hall, Herbology. Hell, even during their Quidditch practices. Somehow his eyes had always found yours in every room, and perhaps, some part buried deep inside of you liked it.
Every single glance had you feeling things Harry never made you feel during your three years of dating. It’s made you feel warm and dizzy as if you were going mad. Yet, nothing truly begun when you’d ended things with Harry. It’d been just before Christmas break. Harry planned to return home for its duration, so you had the comfort of knowing he’d be able to mend himself surrounded by those he loved, family and friends, while you stayed behind.
All your friends had called you mad when they discovered your frequent whereabouts—studying with Draco in the courtyards, his frequent smirks gifted across the dining tables during breakfast or dinner, his need to suddenly partner with you in Potions right after the break. You never truly expected them to understand the hungriness of your yearning for each other, that need for constant contact. Something in Draco’s presence had brought you back to a primal state of being, of craving and desire. Something feral melded in the deepest parts of your core and engraved itself in your very bones when his eyes met yours, but you couldn’t tell your friends that. So, instead of going behind Harry’s back, this is the alternative. This is freedom.
Draco takes a single step back and relishes the way you shiver when he releases a cool breath against the wet trail he’d left behind. He watches you slowly unravel from the ribbon of your high while shuffling out of his robe. Your eyes remain glassy and wide, glazed with lust as you work off his tie and snake it around your own neck before moving in to unbutton his shirt. The shiny black buttons are slick against your fingers as you round them out of each hole. One by one they expose a pinch more of his creamy white skin, so smooth and pale and familiar, and your mouth froths at the sight.
Draco manages to remove his belt from the buckle and unbutton his pressed trousers as you work at the buttons. By the time you’ve finished unhooking the last, his pants pool around his ankles with a soft thud. He backs you against an opening and hoists you up on the ledge of one of the many oversized lattice windows lining the corridor wall. Silver moonlight plays in the sharp grayish hues of his irises and you watch it as he focuses on you. He kneels to work your black stockings off and your stomach knots. He’s become quite the expert in doing this, managing to get the black fabric off and having your skirt and panties out of sight within seconds.
Draco smirks, a cocky smile that reflects his satisfaction after they plop onto the floor with a quiet thud. He drapes your legs over his forearms, hooking his arms underneath your knees, and stares into the void between your bodies. Your brows furrow as you study him. You swear you can sense worry creeping over his features. Perhaps the thought of you going behind Harry’s back has him rattled, or perhaps the idea of getting caught, even though you two never have before.
He relaxes his shoulders and lets out a sigh that would’ve gone unnoticed had you not been watching him. But the worry slips away just as quickly as it’d come, and in a few blinks of your eyes, the only evidence remaining is the gentle twinkle in his eyes when they finds yours again.
Murals of silvery grey fall upon you as the pressure between your thighs rings sharp. You need this just as much as he does. There are no games and the foreplay remains the small tiff you two just had as the aching pleasure of him slipping against you engulfs all your senses. You gasp in relief, eyes lowering at the feeling of his stiff sex gathering your sticky arousal. He teases your bottom lip with his tongue and grazes his chill breath over your warmth.
Draco watches you squirm uncomfortably on the stone ledge. He has to admit that this wasn’t the best place for sex and he hates the idea of your bare ass plastered on the dusty, frigid sandstone bricks, but he couldn’t help himself. He couldn’t wait until one of you found a more respectful place to relieve yourselves. He couldn’t be bothered either when he’d led you to the stacks of the Restricted Section for the first time months ago during Christmas break, nor when he’d taken you in his dorm knowing his friend’s would be asleep in the same room. The list goes on, and yet, he needs you just the same now. He would’ve taken you in the Great Hall if he had to, would have risked everything to have lain you out like his own personal spread to devour whole. That’s how crazy you drive him, that’s how mad you make him feel, and he can’t wait another second. Not even when the idea of betraying Potter in such a way lurks heavily in the back of his mind, even after the whispers, the rumors of you two being back together. It’s the ultimate betrayal, but he cannot stop himself. He has no control over this.
Your mouth parts to let out a moan. As it does, Draco places his palm firmly over it, covering those beautiful lips and muting the sound before slithering between your decadent folds. His teeth sink into his bottom lip to rein in his own pleasure. You feel like a tight hug and he almost loses himself in the feeling. So warm, so comforting, so cruelly wet. Aside from the last fact, he’s sure this is what heaven feels like, what home should feel like, and he knows he can’t let this go. He can’t let this feeling of belonging be stripped away if he finally gets a say in it.
Your head rolls back with the first snap of his hips and you mewl softly. It’s only been two days and you’d magically forgotten how delicious and blissful the first taste of his cock is. You’d forgotten the pleasure in feeling his heat and hardness running deep along your walls and pulling your orgasm closer with each motion. He thrusts in again and your back arches. You watch your breaths fog against the exposed glass panes, weaving their own intricate patterns between ebony lattice, and it takes you back to the first time Draco had claimed your innocence.
On Christmas morning, after breakfast, you’d sent your owl from your dorm window with a letter that contained only two lines:
Restricted Section tonight.
Don’t be late, Malfoy.
Since that magical night in the stacks, you’ve never loved anything more. Every week for a month, you’d sought him out. It’d been pathetic, but you were unable to liberate yourself from the yearning of taking him again. Your need wouldn’t subside, even after you’d taken him. He’d turned you into this feral, insane being, and you found yourself chasing that body to body connection and the slow build up of your pleasure around his length endlessly.
Draco’s pants fill your ears with the sweetest melody as he plows into you, leaving no more room for nostalgia. With each violent rut of his hips, neither of you have the time to recover from the ecstasy prickling in your veins. The heat pooling in your core keeps your mind centered and your gaze focused on him.
“Draco...”
You watch him through heavy, lidded eyes, and your teeth sink into your bottom lip in a teasing grin as you watch his hips burst forward. The rhythmic sound of your skin colliding and his low howling heightens your senses. Suddenly, you’re keenly aware of the little ache unraveling like a ribbon in the pit of your belly, but also the bareness of his chest begging to be touched.
You glide your fingertips up the plain of his stomach, taking in the darkened hairs forming around the edges of his navel. You follow the faint trail up to his lanky chest, taking in the slight bit of muscle around his pecks before continuing up and over his shoulders. You curl yourself around him and trace circles over the bone when he falters closer. Beads of sweat form over the span on his forehead and you watch the way it collects like glistening raindrops against his scalp before trickling down streaks of his swaying platinum hair. You fight every instinct in order to spare him of the sensation of your fingers running throughout his hair and massaging into his scalp. He’d shutter in pleasure if you were to so, and right now, he doesn’t deserve the satisfaction.
Draco’s fingernails burrow into the flesh of your hips and you howl at the feeling, abandoning all prior thoughts. He thrusts forward. Harder. Deeper… Once. Twice. A third time for good measure. Then, again and again while a series of moans pour from your parted mouth.
“Tell me you won’t miss how good I make you feel?” He murmurs. “Isn’t that why you’re here tonight? Because poor little Potter cannot be bothered with pleasing his own woman? He should be treating you like the chosen one. Doesn’t he know you are?”
You bite into your lip again, but this time it’s to keep your mouth shut. You know there’s no use in telling him the truth, that Harry hadn’t as much as lain a finger on you in this way. Not once in all the three years you’d been together. Though, you know he’s wanted to. Draco is the only one that’s ever had you this way, completely defiled you, talked you down, brought you to your lowest and highest all at once.
Your eyes roll again as Draco steadies out his rhythm to catch his breath.
Surely the portraits will spread word in the morning of how they heard students moaning and followed the sound after seeing you and Draco disappear down an unlined corridor moments before. You’ll have to talk to Harry and admit it. That’s one thing you’re certain of. If you don’t, they’ll call you scandalous and Draco would get it worse. Dumbledore may even have to expel you faster than Professor Snape can chastise Malfoy for his lewd, unacceptable actions, in which his father, Lucius, will truly not want to hear about.
“Shit…” he hisses. His eyes snap shut and his lips tremor with his ragged pants. His nose crinkles and the movement of his hips grow erratic once again. With his grip tightening on your flesh, he lets out a low groan. “I’ve almost forgotten how good you feel. I might blow my load inside of you… teach you a lesson.”
“You will not,” you protest, straight faced and using all your strength to not react to the pleasure radiating throughout your body. “Draco, we can’t.”
“Or what? You’ll curse me?”
“Don’t tempt me.”
Draco sneers and leans down until his face is hovering above yours. He allows your ankles to rest against his shoulders, knees parallel to the ceiling. He watches the way you fight every instinct of pleasure, how you keep your eyes on his instead of allowing them to sink back, how you hold his triceps when you want nothing more than to have your hands grasping your aching breasts or to have them wrapped tightly around the base of his throat. He chuckles at the fact that you wish to moan, but your duty to privacy holds steady, keeps you quiet and whimpering instead of letting loose. And he watches in amusement as you slowly unravel with every swift and sharp stroke of his hips. As he does, he begins to realize just how much he actually cares about you.
“Tell him you’re mine,” Draco demands. “Tell me and tonight you’ll tell him so I can spend all day showing you how well I treat my personal possessions.”
“Oh yeah?” You tease. “Is that right, Draco?”
“You’ll find out soon enough.”
You let out a sharp giggle and rope him in closer by the back of his neck, so close that you can take in every breath exhaling from his lungs and pull them into your own. You watch the way the iciness in his eyes melts away and glaze over with something more warm and comforting. And your core ripples at the possibility of something more than lust looming between the both of you.
“Don’t tell me you’re this close already,” he complains, truly embarrassed for you by the look of annoyance in his eyes.
“Mmm… I think I am,” you whimper and grasp the lapels of his crinkled button up to yank him a breath closer. “Fill me up, Draco…”
He scoffs.
He is truly embarrassed for you, but you wish he could see himself panting, slicked with sweat, eyes soft, and looking so sexy whilst buried between your thighs. He’s the portrait of pathetic and you know you should make him beg.
“Beg,” you croak and yank him down until his lips are just above yours.
Your throat stings, sore and scratchy from attempting to leave it shut as Draco plowed through your slick folds one thrust at a time.
“You’re insane,” he chuckles and glimpses down at your reddened lips.
“Only for you,” you whisper and swallow a moan as you caress the sharpness of his cheeks. “Make me yours, Draco.”
His lips tug into a sharp smile and he presses his lips against yours hard and hungrily. He’s tired of your games. Perhaps he realized that much sooner than tonight and the thought of losing you had become too unbearable for him.
“Fuck,” he huffs into the sticky air between the both of you before reclaiming your lips.
“Love your cock being buried inside of me, Draco.”
You finally moan against him. After all, you aren’t evil enough to keep edging yourself when you’re both this close. He pulls his mouth away, panting heavily as he plants his palms on either side of you and stiffens.
“Are you finished?”
You nod, knowing exactly what he means. It only confirms that he’s serious now, serious in showing you exactly how he takes care of what’s his.
He glances down at his hardened length, only the tip remains hidden inside of your depths, and the rest gleams in your sticky, sweet arousal. He wants to taste you, but more than anything, he wants to bury his load deep inside of you. He wants it so deep that it doesn’t dare to trickle out. He doesn’t care about the consequences this close to graduation; he only cares about you filled to the brim with a piece of him, no matter what it is.
He thrusts inside and watches the way you swallow him greedily. Then, repeats the action again and again in a rapid rock of his hips. He senses your falling apart—legs trembling against his body, eyes softening to a roll, your arousal warming to slick wetness, scorching hot with each plunge. He takes pride in his string of thrusts, delivering them in a steady rhythm. Though, he wishes to tear you apart, your freed moans keep him from doing so. They guide him and keep him steady like music in his ears.
He grasps your chin and pulls your lazy gaze back to him.
“Keep your eyes right here, darling,” he demands sternly. “I want to see the way they roll when you release.”
With clenched teeth, you attempt to snatch your chin back, but he keeps his grip firm and your maneuver hardly wavers as he picks up speed with a groan and chuckle.
“You thought I’d let you dominate me?” He teases, his chuckle cutting through your moans. “I almost had you convinced. But don’t forget, my love, I’m always in control. No one tells me what to do.”
You whimper as he presses a thumb into your mouth to pacify you before ripping through your depths. His thrusts grow quicker with each second and you have no time to recoup from the pleasure prickling through your veins and pulsating in every corner of your being like liquid fire. Just as your eyes begin to roll, Draco snatches your jaw, showing just how much in control he truly is.
“I wish Potter could see how well you take me,” he pants cockily. “Just imagine if he knew the way I fit inside of you. So perfectly, if I do say so myself. You should see the way your cunt grips around my cock. You should see how wet you are for me. I dare you.”
You hum against his thumb and the vibration ricochets through you in a deep wave as you dare to glimpse between your thighs. You catch sight of his cock, a pulsing red with a vein so thick that it looks as though it hurts, and your arousal coating the surface in a glistening sweetness. Draco watches with you and your head spins.
“It’s been two days since I’ve felt you tightening around me. I can’t wait to feel it again.”
You keep your lips clasped tightly around his thumb. Your mind can hardly think of a quip, let alone find any words to overpower him. You don’t want to. You focus on the way his cock feels slipping in and out of your depths at different lengths, growing unsteady with each sway of his hips. You focus on his silver eyes staring into yours and his mocking grin as you finally come to terms with the fact that you are his. You’ve always been his. He’s just known it much longer than you have.
A bead of sweat drips from the tip of his swapping bangs and plops against your bare stomach. Draco chuckles and slicks his damp hair back with one hand while using his thumb on the other to massage the moisture into your skin. He presses in with a bit more pressure in attempt to feel himself plunging in and out of you. He keeps his thumb pressed firmly against you and steadies himself until he feels the motion underneath it. In and out. In and out, bulging at the center of your tightening core.
“Perhaps one day you’ll write about how well you take me,” he purrs. “And we’ll fill our library with books on our lovemaking.”
“I’m sure such books already exist,” you gasp, recalling all the steamy muggle romances you’d read over the summer.
“Then you’ll read one to me one of these days. Share your findings?”
“I’d rather show you,” you whisper.
He smiles, almost faltering before regaining his composure and finding your hips again.
“Draco?”
“Mhm?”
“Tell me I’m your favorite,” you mutter and buck up against him.
He stops suddenly and his nails dig deep into your pillowy flesh. You feel his cock twitch deep inside of you and you smirk when his eyes land on yours again.
“Being sneaky are we?” He muses and rams into you.
His palm finds your mouth again just before a bloodcurdling moan slips out.
He does it again with a teasing smile.
Then again.
And again.
And again until you’re whimpering and trembling around him. You reach for his forearm, but he denies it and presses into you harder.
Your eyes roll and you grasp the ledge underneath yourself, but it’s too hard. You go for his wrist, the same one allowing his hand to keep you almost silenced. You shiver around him and your thighs go limp against his thrusts. It’s not long after that his pants turn into a sharp hiss and a new heat overwhelms you.
Draco falters on top of you and stares straight into your eyes as he fills you up to the brim with his warm seed. You search his eyes for any form of deceit, but you find none. There never has been, not when it came to you and him.
His hand slowly retreats and you let out a loud inhale, taking in the dusty air of the corridor before slinging your arms around his neck and rushing your lips against his. He tastes of tart apples, salty sweat, and the sticky strawberry taste of your lipgloss. You never knew you needed to taste such a combination, but if it came from him, you’d take it. You’d take it all.
“Y/n,” he mumbles.
“Yes, Draco?”
His eyes focus on yours as if the stars he’d once seen dancing around your face are slowly subsiding, and the cloudiness of lust and desire fade.
“You truly are my favorite,” he breathes and runs a hand through your curls before peppering your lips with kisses. “And I plan to keep it that way.”
And somewhere deep in your gut, you have a feeling this won’t be the last time you hear those words, especially since you’d forgotten to confirm that it had only been a rumor going around the school, mere whispers. Someone had lied about you dating Harry again, but you don’t mind when the result of it brought Draco crawling back to you.
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Please be sure to check out my other latest fanfics:
⚡︎ Lost Love (m.) - Lucien Vanserra x Rhysand x reader
⚡︎ Rain Does Not Fall on One Roof Alone (m.) - Ominis Gaunt x Sebastian Sallow x reader
⚡︎ Perfect Storm (m.) - Ominis Gaunt x reader
⚡︎ Untitled (m.) - Sebastian Sallow x Ominis Gaunt x reader
⚡︎ Coffee (Love You a Latte) - Sebastian Sallow x reader
⚡︎ Golden - Sebastian Sallow x reader
⚡︎ For You Always (m.) - Severus Snape x reader
~ Navi: masterlist (all fandoms)
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Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction, but please don’t copy! Written purely for fun :) Please only repost to other socials w/my permission and credit! Reblogging w/credit is fine. Thank you! ♡
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December 2024
461 notes · View notes
toothfa-1-ry · 1 year ago
Text
DOYOUWANTTOGOTOTHEBALLWITHME? draco malfoy
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In which,
Draco just can't seem to ask you to be his date for the Yule ball
GENRE: fluff
PAIRING: 4th yr Draco x 4th year reader
FEAT: lee do hyun as Terry Booth!!
WARNING: none :>
A/N: A continuation of my Draco Malfoy is a loser agenda!! Also did I mention that Draco is a very DRAMATIC loser??
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"uhm hi y/n" Draco said nervously as he turned to look at Pansy and Blaise who gave him a reassuring nod and a thumbs up
"ooh hi Draco"
"uhm so..y/n" Draco nervously chuckled as he played his his hand cuffs "uh..y/n haha.."
"Draco-" Pansy hissed "you already said her name, there's no need to repeat it again"
"right- sorry. Uhm so y/n!"
"oh god he's a lost cause" Blaise muttered to Pansy who just shook her head.
"I can hear you, just in case you didn't know" Draco angrily muttered towards them, shooting them both a dirty look
"uhm are you talking to y/n or are you talking to us?" Blaise questioned, his eyebrows raised
"oh bloody hell" Draco sweared "uhm anyway y/n uh so like I'm pretty sure you heard the announcement today- during breakfast because like you have ears uh I have ears too! So I heard the announcement too- ha" Draco awkwardly continued.
"ofcourse she has ears dunderhead and ofcourse she heard it! Everyone heard the announcement" piped Lorenzo from a corner "just try to charm her won't you?"
Theodore shook his head in amusement as he watched his best mate Draco act like a complete fool. Actually he always acted like a fool except most of the time he didn't make it this obvious.
"right- right my bad my bad" Draco shook his head "so! Y/n!"
"yes Draco? What is the matter?"
"I thought you could do the er honour of er taking me to the Yule ball y'know" Draco smirked as he attempted to charm you like Lorenzo said
"I mean cause like I could go with anyone but I thought that I'd give you the first chance of going with me!" Draco quickly rambled and then flicked his hair "so what do you say?"
Theodore and Lorenzo tried holding in their laughter as Pansy groaned and Blaise muttered curses under his breath.
"oh bloody hell" Matteo mumbled
"mate that was horrible and I'm not even y/n! I'm just pretending to be her!" Matteo exclaimed as he took of the wig he was wearing
"if your gonna be this bad with me pretending to be y/n, how are you actually gonna face her!?" Matteo shook his head and turned to Pansy "he's totally lost!"
"it wasnt that bad was it?" Draco cringed at himself.
Oh he knew how bad it was
"it was HORRIBLE" all his friends shouted at him, especially Matteo who was honestly tired of wearing the wig and pretending to be you for the 9th time now.
"c'mon mate! This is the 9th time I'm pretending to be y/n. Just ask her out NORMALLY PLEASE" Matteo shouted
"oh shut up okay! I'm trying" Draco hissed his face turning pink
"well try harder" Theodore said from a corner "if you don't ask her out soon, someone else will"
"what?" Draco whisper shouted "you mean- there's a chance that she'll go to the Yule ball with someone else whose not me?"
Theodore rolled his eyes at his blonde friend, "incase you haven't noticed, many guys in Hogwarts likes her. And now you have double the competition with Durmstang and Beuxbaton"
Draco went pink in the face again "oh fuck"
"yup!" Lorenzo patted his cousin in the shoulder "so you better hurry up cuz!" He cheerily said as if Draco wasn't going through a mini panick attack
"ugh whatever!" Pansy groaned "you! Get your act together" she pointed at Draco "we're gonna practice this one more time! Matteo wear the wig"
Matteo grumbled as he begrudgingly wore the wig " on merlins beard why do I have to pretend to be y/n"
"okay! In 3-2-1" Pansy hollered, completely ignoring Matteo "action!"
"y/n hi! Uh I have to talk to you! Uh about uh something" Draco awkwardly grinned
"ooh yes Draco! What is it?" Matteo said in a high pitched voice that sounded nothing like you.
"uhm so-" Draco stammered
"yes Draco? Hehe" Matteo let out a giggle and twirled a strand of the wig
"uhm!..I have a collection of chocolate frog cards!" Draco squeaked, the word Yule ball being unable to form in his mouth
He heard all his friends groan and he became redder then a Weasley
"oh god not again..that's it. I'm going" Matteo threw the wig on the ground shaking his head "all the best" he patted Draco and walked away
"oh c'mon- wait one last time let me try one last time!" Draco whined as he watched all of his friends walk out of the dorm "oh wait- guys wait!"
-
"you can do this. I believe in you" Lorenzo gave his cousin a thumbs up
"well I don't" Matteo snorted which caused Draco to give him a dirty look "what? I'm being honest"
"she's right over there. Just go to her, say hi, maybe compliment her and then ask her out" the caramel haired boy ignored Matteo and gave his poor shaking cousin some tips
"what? What kind of compliments to I give her?" Draco whispered back in a sort of panick
"geez. Just tell her that she looks pretty today, and that you'd be honoured if she would go to the ball with you" Theodore cut in and shrugs "works like a charm"
"okay.. alright I got this" Draco mumbled
"yea you got it..now go" Pansy ushered the boy "c'mon now go ahead" she pointed towards the courtyard where you were.
Draco walked up towards you and a bunch of third years who were talking to you. Suddenly he felt very intimidated by those small scrawny third years and immediately turned away and walked back to his friends
"I can't do this! You lot are right, maybe I am hopeless" Draco sulked as his friends let out another sigh
"did he just call himself hopeless?" Matteo peered at the sulking boy "oh dear, y/n really did a number on him huh?"
"not helping Matteo" Pansy said sternly, hitting Matteo in the arm.
"listen, your Draco Malfoy and your going to go and ask y/n the girl who've been crushing on since forever to go to the ball with you" Blaise said giving Draco a light shake
"and if she says yes all is good and if she doesn't, well- it's kind of embarassing but it's gonna be alright" Pansy adds
"yea so go and ask her out now before she goes to the ball with Terry Booth over there huh?" Theodore nudges Draco towards your direction as the smiling ravenclaw keeper approaches you
"oh bloody hell- no way in my watch is y/n going to go out with that crow" Draco fumed under his breath as he immediately rushed towards you
"yea go get'em tiger!" Draco could hear Matteo whooping and the constant shouting from his friends, all hyping him up but that could hardly matter right now
Dracos hands were going all clamy and he could feel his heart racing. He wanted to run away from you but he wasn't going to let Terry Booth ask you out right infront of him!
"y/n" Terry approached you with a smile
"Terry" you greeted the Korean boy with a grin "anything's the matter?"
"oh yea uh I wanted to ask you if-" the keeper then abruptly stopped mid sentence as another person had joined their conversation
"y/n! Y/n!" A frantic Draco appeared, his eyes widened and his hair a mess
"Draco? Are you alright?" You ask the Slytherin boy who seemed to be in a bit of a mix
"mhm m'fine- I have to talk to you" Draco grabbed your hand which took you by surprise
You look at a awkward Terry and a frantic Draco, unsure of what to make up with this situation
"oi Booth can you bigger off for a second?" Draco coldly dismissed Terry who simply raise a eyebrow before shaking his head
"er- alright, I'll talk to you later y/n" Terry mumbled before walking away
"Draco! What was that. You can't just tell people to bugger off" you begin scolding Draco, unaware that his hands were still holding yours
"y/n I have to tell you something" the boy gulped, he could feel the way your hands felt against his and the close proximity the both of you were in. His heart racing even faster
"what is it?" You ask him, your brows creased up in slight worry. The blonde Slytherin boy who was always so put together, confident and full of himself was now nervous and quite frankly not behaving like his usual self
"Draco are you sick?" You immediately raise your free hand to his head and Draco swears that his temperature rises by a hundred degrees probably.
"uhm y/n" the boy begins, he could feel his sweat dripping and his mouth going dry
"oh dear Merlin Draco your turning redder than a tomato! Let's go to madam Pomfrey" you usher him, pulling him into the hallway "c'mon let's go-"
"wait y/n listen- I have to tell you something first"
You look at Draco in confusion. What did he have to tell you so much that he was acting quite frankly out of his personality
"er- okay..can you tell me when we're in the infirmary?"
"no! I have to tell you now" Draco pressed on. He had to ask you right now when he was full of adrenaline or else he won't be able to ask you later
"oh okay, okay" you say a little taken back "what is it?"
Draco bites his lower lip and mumbles something
"what Draco? I didn't quite catch you"
"uhm...I think uh- I think you look very nice today!" Draco suddenly exclaimed
"o-oh!" That might have taken you back by surprise even more, a slight blush forms in your face "thanks..uhm"
"actually I think you look nice everyday" Draco continues his eyes looking down, his grip on your hand tightening.
You look down and realise that the both of you were holding hands and you feel your face getting hot
"that's really sweet of you to say Dray" you said before you could stop yourself
Draco looks up at you, his eyes widened at the sudden nickname you called him
"Dray?"
You eyes widen and you the undying urge to slap yourself across the face as you see the way Draco's eyes twinkle with mischief.
"did you just give me a nickname? Dray?" Draco grins smugly, completely forgetting the real reason why he was with you
"oh shut up" you huff "I'm never gonna say that again"
"oh no please do say it again" Draco teased you, watching your face get red
"r-right, what did you have to tell me Draco? Do say it fast I don't have all day" you quickly try to change the subject causing Draco to remember the real reason why he was talking to you
"er-" Draco immediately felt all his confidence and smugness fading away
"oh dear Draco your getting red all again" you worriedly said, peering into his face "are you sure you don't need to-"
"not Draco" Draco mumbled
"what?"
"not Draco, don't call me Draco" Draco mumbled a bit louder
"well, what do you want me to call you then-"
"Dray, you should call me Dray" he says softly
Your eyes widen "Dray... I don't understand what-"
"doyouwanttogototheballwithme?" Draco squeaked
"what?"
Draco cleared his throat and looked around, he beckoned you to come closer to him and leaned towards you
"do you want to maybe perhaps go to the ball with..me?" He whispered into your ears filling your stomach with butterflies
"oh- Draco I-" you stammer, unable to form sentences "uhm I would really actually like that" you whisper back in surprise
"really?" Draco asked you back, his voice in equal surprise
You give a shy nodd
"really?!" Draco asked again looking at you eyes widened "I'm not going to stop saying really unless you give me a proper answer l/n"
Your roll your eyes "yes really...Dray I would love to go to the ball with you"
"oh my god I think I'm gonna pass out" Draco said feeling faint
"I think that's a little but of a exaggeration- oh my god Draco!" You shout out, trying to catch the boy before he fell on the ground
"oh dear- he actually passed out" you grimace slightly as you make him lie down in one of the stools in the courtyard after dragging him all the way from the hallway
You softly brush his blonde hair away from his pink face
"how quite adorable" you laugh to yourself
-
"Hey Berkshire!" Terry greeted Lorenzo who along with all his friends were trying to see what Draco and y/n were doing just as they got dragged to the hallway
"ugh we cant see them anymore!" Pansy whined as she stretched her neck, only to get a glimpse of blonde hair
"uhm s'everything alright?" Terry asked
"yea everythings fine" Lorenzo smiled at the tall boy "what's up?"
"oh uh- I did what you told me too" Terry grinned as all of Lorenzo's friends looked at him with a confused face
Lorenzo laughed "great chap you are my friend" giving him a pat in the back
"I'm guessing you told me to pretend like I'm asking y/n to the ball just so that Malfoy would make a move first?" Terry winced as he asked Lorenzo who just seemed to grin even brighter
"my god- you do catch on quick don't you?"
Terry let out a laugh and blushed at the sudden compliment. He was never really good with compliments
"you did what?" Matteo asked eyes widened
"sneaky snake" Pansy squinted her eyes at him and grinned 'your a genius!"
Lorenzo simply shrugged
"so whatdya think? He asked her out yet?" Terry peered out from where Pansy was standing
"maybe if Draco finally got the guts" Pansy snorted
"oh I think he did" Blaise said hesitantly
"what?" Pansy and Matteo asked eagerly
"it appears that our little prince has..." Theodore paused not sure whether he was supposed to laugh or be embarrassed
"he has what?" Pansy questioned
"oh hell!" Matteo shouted with laughter "the bloody wanker has fainted!" Matteo exclaimed with glee all across his face
Pansy covered her face with embarrassment as the boys roared with laughter. Only Terry wasn't the one laughing along.
"oh dear" Terry shook his head sadly "now how would the poor boy be when he dances with her?"
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amorchai · 7 months ago
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𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐎 𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔.
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pairing(s): draco malfoy x hufflepuff!reader
words: 781
warnings/tags: established relationship, slight grumpy x sunshine, tiniest bit suggestive but completely sfw.
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draco malfoy didn’t like the golden trio as it was. everyone’s heroes of hogwarts, prancing gryffindor’s acting like they owned the place. however, it only grew as he boarded the hogwarts express.
he was excited to return to school for once in his life, draco usually hated the thought of going to hogwarts where he saw people he hated every day. but you went there, and that was enough for him.
you had started dating draco at the end of the year, secretly after he went on a whim and kissed you. throughout the summer, you had sent him letters, and he only yearned for you over the months.
his friends letters remained opened and to be replied to, draco hated writing to people there was no need for it as he would be seeing them soon – yet he wrote to you every single day.
it still felt very new to draco, seeing you. so returning to hogwarts, draco was excited to have time with you. despite being in separate houses, draco was adamant on finding a way into the kitchens to sneak into the hufflepuff common room just so he could see you.
he could see you stepping on the train with your friends, the people draco very much disliked. you had the prettiest smile on your face and draco could only stare until you were out of sight, ignoring what pansy parkinson was saying beside him.
draco sat with his friends, knowing you were in a separate compartment across the train. and while his friends all spoke, draco was too distracted. he was desperate to see you, to have you close to him again, something he thought about non-stop since he last saw you.
while draco didn’t want everyone to know of the two of you just yet, especially the golden trio, draco couldn’t wait anymore. all he could think about was the press of your lips.
“excuse me,” draco speaks for the first time, ushering blaise zabini to let draco out his seat. “where you off to?” he asked, “none of your business, zabini.” he huffs on his way out.
walking down the narrow paths, draco looks in every compartment until he finally catches a glimpse of you. you’re sitting beside ron, sharing a box of peppermint toads while harry told a story and draco tenses at the sight.
as if feeling the presence, draco notices hermione look over and furrow her eyebrows before alerting her friends, probably saying, ‘why is draco staring at us?’ because draco felt like an idiot at that moment.
while ron and harry scowled at him, you smiled discreetly. he opens the compartment door, keeping a stoic expression while glancing over the judging faces and to your contrasting one – soft eyes and a kind smile.
“something we can help you with, malfoy?” ron asked and draco holds his hand out to you, taking you by surprise as much as the others, “no, but y/n can. can i speak with you for a moment?”
“what-?” harry mutters confused while they all glance at one another, each expression more shocked when you take his hand and let him lead you out the compartment.
“what are you doing?” you ask draco as he leads you through the train, looking out for a quiet spot. “shut up and i’ll tell you in a minute,” draco says in a teasing tone.
just after the last compartment there’s an empty area before the front of the train and draco guides you towards it, “now will you tell me?” you ask and draco huffs before moving you to wall between you and the other students and immediately presses his lips against yours.
you almost immediately reciprocate, dropping his hand to instead hold his smooth face while draco wraps his arms around your waist so your body is pressed to his, as close as possible.
“draco-” you mutter dazily against his lips as they peck yours and move down to your jaw. draco pulls you impossibly closer to his body and murmurs into your skin, “merlin’s beard, can’t i kiss you without being questioned?”
you sigh but rest your head against the wall behind you in content of draco’s sweet lips nipping your skin, “was just wondering…” you trail off your own words as you squeeze the black blazer of his clothes.
“you want me to stop?” draco asks, pulling away to look at you properly – his lips kiss-bitten and ashen hair already messed. “that’s not what i was-” his hands move up to grip your face, leaning towards you again, “exactly, so shush and let me show you how much i missed you.” his lips are on yours once again.
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amorchai masterlist . taglist
amorchai © ─ all rights reserved. no reposting/translating/copying will be tolerated.
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lqveharrington · 2 months ago
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Loathing | D.M.
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summary: you and draco have loathed one another since first year, but you know something happened over the summer before your sixth year. he had changed.
pairing: rival!draco malfoy x potter!reader
includes: fluff, angst, bleeding, both of them being oblivious, both of them taking care of each other
a/n: unadulterated loathing (guess who watched wicked last week?)
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The moment you met Draco Malfoy – well, the moment he insulted one of your friends and then wanted to be friends with your brother – you knew you would loathe him for the rest of your life. From every glare from across the room to house rivalries, you loathed him for all you had. Especially when he ruined your Yule Ball experience by knocking the eggnog on you and refusing to explain why, only glaring instead.
But something changed in your sixth year. He changed.
Usually, the second you got on the train to Hogwarts, he would find you and start with the insults, but this year was different. Hell, when you were trying to find Harry on the train when you got to Hogwarts, Draco walked past you without even sparing a glance. He wasn’t even in his Slytherin robes, he was just in a black suit.
Then when the quidditch season started, you learned that he had quit his position as seeker and chance as quidditch captain. You were surprised he lost almost all interest in the sport itself when he used to brag on and on about how good he was at the game. Everything he used to egg you on about was close to nothing, and it worried you just a little.
You knew something was different – he was different – and wanted to know what happened, but you knew your friends couldn’t care less about the Slytherin Prince.
“Hermoine, please tell me you noticed something wrong with Malfoy.” You murmur and enter the potions room, eyes instantly meeting the gray and blue eyes you were speaking of. He quickly averted his gaze and stared down at his potions book instead, making you frown. “He hasn’t been throwing enough insults at us this year.”
“Is that not a good thing?” She creases her brows and takes her seat beside you, pulling her potions book out of her bag. Hermione looks at you with slight unease, not really understanding why you were asking in the first place. “Besides, why should you care? Don’t you hate him?”
You don’t respond, only spinning your ring and bringing your attention back to the Slytherin Prince himself, your teeth kissing your lips in your own turmoil. He looked so tired and… Helpless. You wanted to understand what he was going through despite everything he had put you through. He was still a student at Hogwarts. It may seem out of the ordinary from your usual loathing, but if something serious was going on, you hoped to Godric that he would be okay.
For the rest of class, Slughorn assigned the most ridiculous sounding potion to create. It was supposedly the most powerful love potion in existence and when Slughorn said it could help anyone identify their true love, you doubted it. It was only when Harry properly made the potion did you test the theory out. It seemed like Lavender was having a day with the potion and kept batting her eyes at Ron, making you and Hermoine roll your eyes in annoyance.
When Slughorn called the rest of the class in pairs to come over to smell the potion and describe what they smelled, you still believed people made up with what they smelled. You thought they were just believing they smelled the person they liked. From Hermione smelling freshly-mown grass and new parchment to Harry smelling some kind of sweets, it seemed quite fake.
And you could have gotten away with not having to smell the potion when you unashamedly yawned the second Slughorn turned to look over.
“Miss Potter, since you and Mr. Malfoy seem to have found this task boring, why don’t you both come up and tell me what you smell.” Slughorn beckoned you up toward Harry’s cauldron.
Pursing your lips, you do your best not to roll your eyes as you made your way over to the cauldron, only to be overwhelmed with Draco’s cologne when smelling the potion. You glance at him from the corner of your eyes, noticing he was just as confused as you.
“Maybe tone down the cologne, Malfoy.” You mutter to him and try to find a scent that wasn’t just his stupid cologne.
He rolled his eyes at you and leaned his head down, practically hissing into your ear. “Me? Your fucking shampoo is blocking all my senses right now.”
“Like you can smell that right now.” You turn your own head and glare at him, the tension growing larger and larger.
As if you were in a staring contest of who could hate the other more, you forgot about the class and only the loathing you felt for the blonde in front of you. However, the class soon began to felt the tension, uncomfortable with how you two were behaving. Whispers began to fill the air, but you two continued to bicker.
“Maybe use less product, Potter.” Draco suggested and flicked a piece of your hair off your shoulder, ignoring the way his cheeks flamed at how close the two of you were at the moment.
You crossed your arms and squinted, hating how he had to bend just to be at eye level to you. “Says the one practically bathes in Dior Sauvage—”
“Mr. Malfoy and Miss Potter, please, go back to your seats. We have gathered all the information we need.” Slughorn spoke with an amused smile.
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For the rest of the week, it seemed like the entire student body was pointing to you and whispering. Even if you were just switching classes or sitting in the Gryffindor common room with Hermione, eyes averted to you before they eventually turned away when they caught your eyes.
You didn't understand what was going on. It felt like everyone you knew began to have a knew found hatred toward you and it bugged you. Even Harry gave you questioning looks from time to time. You don't remember doing anything cruel and vile.
Eventually, you did give up guessing why everyone was giving you dirty looks. You ignored all their staring and only acknowledged the people you knew didn't mean any harm toward you. It soon became a habit for you to leave the trio alone for a good hour or two, spending time to practice spells in the room of requirements; Mainly casting your Patronus and watching it have the time of its life.
Well, until one day the room began to change on its own.
“Hello? Room of requirements?" You stood abruptly and looked around at the changing room, your Patronus dissipating in thin air.
The room began to shift in size, becoming quite large in size with piles and piles of junk. As you tripped over the old trinkets decorating the room — trying to find the exit to the ever expanding room — you cut yourself on the sudden arrival of a rusted sword.
Holding your cut hand close to you body, you glared at the room like it was your least favorite thing in the entire world. "This is not what I asked—“
“Fuck.”
You heard the voice whisper before you jumped back in surprise when the person banged on something wooden. So someone who needed the room more came. That's why. As you tried to make your way out a give the person privacy, you tripped back into another pile of junk, making you wince.
“Shit.” You mutter and do your best to remove yourself from the pile, pursing your lips when you heard footsteps approach you.
Before you could even try to hide, the said person appeared right in front of you with their wand pointed at your face. You followed the wand up until you met their eyes, making you inwardly groan at your luck.
“What are you doing?” You spoke at the same time, both of you rolling your eyes at the same time.
Hastily, you stood up from your spot on the dirtied floor and dusted your clothes off, mentally cursing yourself for being ever so clumsy.
“I asked you first, Potter.” Draco tucked his wand away, glancing down at your bleeding hand. He frowned and moved around you.
You stepped away from him, still nursing your hand. Unsure of what he was going to do, you simply answered the question truthfully.
“I was using the room to practice my spells, but it changed because apparently your needs were far more important than mine.” You watched him dig through dusted cabinets and drawers, looking for something. “Now answer mine.”
“I don’t have to.” He muttered and pulled out some type of cleanser and a kit, making you recoil at the sight. You hated the doctors and it seemed like Draco was ready to operate on your hand.
“You know? I think I should go before—" You start before he raised a brow at you, looking down at your injured hand and then back up to your eyes. "What?"
“You could get in trouble, you know?” He gestured to your hand before guiding you to sit on a bed that seemed too clean to be one of the old trinkets lying around before. "You need to clean your hand before it gets infected. Everything in here is old and dusted."
"Then I will clean my hand on my own, thank you very much." You yank the cleanser from his hands and pop the cap open. You stared at your wound before looking at the bottle, already regretting your choice.
"What?" He looked over your face, noticing the hesitation in your facial expression. "Do you need me to do it?"
"Yes, please." You whisper quickly, shutting your eyes tightly when you felt him lightly dab your cut with the cleanser. You bit your lip when it stung, nodding when he told you it would be over in a second.
“I'm done." Draco murmured and threw the cloth in the trash, watching you slowly open your eyes and look at your now bandaged hand. He nodded at you before standing, finding his way back over to a wooden cabinet.
You looked around the place, noticing the fresh bedsheets and glass of water that surely hasn't been sitting there for Godric knows how long. Tucking your injured hand in your free one, you wandered the small sleeping area before stopping at all the books piled next to it.
"Malfoy, what are you doing in here?" You take a book from the top of the pile and read its title. The Fundamentals of Vanishing Cabinets. You raised your brows in curiosity, looking over at him to find him already staring. "Well?"
“Like I said, I don't have to answer you.” He murmured and stepped toward you, taking the book from your hands.
You stared at him and frowned. His image was even worse up close. You could see the bags underneath his eyes and the gel from his hair completely gone from how many times he ran his fingers through his hair. When he glanced down at you, you were once again millimeters from each other before you both pulled away in confusion and guilt, like your skin was on fire.
“Are you getting enough sleep?" You ask as he walks toward the cabinet again, but this time, you followed him over. "I don't see you eat enough during dinner either."
“You watch me, Potter?” He spoke in amusement, lips turning down to hide the smirk that wanted to present itself to you.
“What? No!" You splutter out and look away, face flamed in warmth. "Only in hatred.”
"Whatever you say." He murmured and began tinkering with the cabinet, placing a green apple on the top shelf. "Stalker." He whispered, earning an annoyed glare from you.
“Just answer the question. Why did the room change to this mess?” You look at the bed you assumed his stayed in and then change your gaze toward the cabinet he seemed so intent on working on. “And why are you spending all your time on this old cabinet?“
He opened his mouth to speak when he winced and clutched his left forearm, making you panic ever so slightly. Draco moved to sit on the bed, pursing his lips and trying to think of anything but the pain being emitted on his arm.
You frown and take his arm in your hands, pulling his sleeve up only to silently gasp in surprise. Draco pulled his arm away and tugged the sleeve down, glaring at you.
“You’re a death eater.” You look at him with wide eyes, stepping back in shock. You looked between his arm, his frantic eyes, and then the cabinet. Your head was reeling at all the information you learned. "You got the dark mark—"
“You can’t tell anyone.” Draco whispered, almost pleading you to not tell a soul. If you told Harry, then everything would go to shit. But when he saw your face clear of all shock and shift to remorse, he knew you wouldn't go against his wishes despite him being a real threat to you and your brother.
“Why? Why did…” You move closer and clutch his arm, pulling his sleeve up again and wanting to trace the design. When he stopped you, you looked up and knew it would hurt. You nodded and thumbed the skin below it, eyes looking over the ink. “You didn’t have a choice, did you?”
Draco nodded and shut his eyes when you continued to thumb the empty space, opening them when you stopped. He knew that the gears were turning in your head when you stared at him like he was you next project — which he knew you would never call him that despite the loathing you had for him.
After seconds of silence, you open your mouth and speak softly, thumb moving over the space once more. “Can't you tell Dumbledore at all? Maybe he could do something to protect you—“
“That’s not how it works.” Draco stopped your movements and tugged his sleeve down. He caught you hesitating to look over the mark again, tilting his head to the side when you took a seat beside him. "Why are you still here?"
"What do you mean?" You murmur and trace the bandage over your hand before looking up at him, meeting his blue-gray eyes. "I can leave if you want me to. But I want to know if you'll be okay if I leave first."
You kept eye contact with him for a little longer before looking away, eyes finding interest in a silver crown in the corner. You weren't sure why you cared so much about him. It was like a switch flipped on in your mind. In all your years at Hogwarts, his taunting was a constant in your life. So when that went away, you knew something was wrong and you wanted to make sure he was okay, even if your brother hated him. It was an instinct you suddenly gained.
"Why?" He stared at the mirror across from him, catching your eyes through the reflection once more. "Is it because you want more material to tease me about?"
"Godric, no." You huff and run your fingers through your hair. "I'm not a monster, Malfoy." You let a small smile slip through when he raised his brow at you. "I'm not a monster!"
"Not saying you are, Potter." He finally smiled at you. But even through the smile, you could see how exhausted he was. With whatever he was doing for the Dark Lord, you just hoped he would be fine in the end. "If I tell you I'll be okay, will you leave me be so I can finish my task?"
You turn your head to look at him properly, looking in between his eyes. You sighed and broke eye contact, "Yes." You look back up and find him millimeters away again, making you squint. "If you don't come to potions tomorrow with any kind of retort, I will be in here waiting for you, understand?"
He rolled his eyes and nodded, "Whatever gets you out of here, Potter."
Nodding, you stand and dust off your clothes once more. Talking with Draco civically was quite a feat, but you knew it was for the better or worse. But just before you could leave the room, you heard his voice ring out to you once more, you first name falling from his lips instead of your last.
"Don't use that strong of a shampoo anymore, yeah?"
You send him a half smile, "Only if you don't apply your entire bottle of cologne."
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arten1234 · 30 days ago
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Spoiled | Draco Malfoy x Reader
Summary: tooth rotting fluff lol! My first post so please leave support!
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"Draco I don't need those shoes," you whined for the millionth time, but the boy had turned a deaf ear to your complaining. You had barely looked at the shoes, and all you had said was,
“These are cute,” not even sparing them a second glance because of the price tag. The next day you opened the door to your dorm to see Draco holding something behind his back, which usually meant one thing.
"Yes you do, my love, they would look stunning on you,” Draco argued back, his eyes soft as he shoved the box into your hands.
"You need to stop spending money on me-" you said, a mixture of a whine and a groan coating your words, as you sat down on the edge of your bed to try on the pair of much too expensive heels.
"Who else would I spend it on, plus I love spoiling you, is there a problem with that?" Draco said, all while bending down to help you fasten the straps on your ankles, even though you both knew you could buckle them yourself.
"It makes me feel bad you know I can't buy you all this expensive stuff and I don't want you to feel like I don't love you because I can't buy you stuff-" you huffed out before dramatically flopping onto the bed.
"You know I don't think like that, you show me your love in many other ways trust me, now look at how good you look in these shoes" Draco said, hiding his amusement at your childish actions as his two large hands hauled you back up.
You gave him a glare and walked over to your full sized mirror and gasped at how good you looked in the shoes. Fuck he was always right.
"Baby I love it" you squeaked out completely forgetting your past annoyance at the purchase.
"And this my love is why I spoil you"
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agreeeeeeeeeee · 1 month ago
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Freefall | D.M. & H.P
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feat Draco Malfoy x roommate!reader x Harry Potter
SUMMARY: Secrets can only stay buried for so long in a cramped London flat. When the truth finally comes out, your relationship with your flatmates, Harry and Draco, will never be the same.
CW: MDNI 18+, college roommates!au, smut, mfm, slight angst, pining!drarry, going from friends/roommates to friends with benefits, dom!draco and switch!harry
AN: much more to come! I wouldn't call this a series, more like a collection of fics/drabbles/headcanons. my asks are open if there's anything you'd like to see!
masterlist
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“Here, taste this,” Harry said, approaching the kitchen island where you were combing through your coursework, spoon covered in sauce held aloft.
You opened your mouth, not looking up from the passage on the Demiguise.
Harry chuckled, feeding you the bit of sauce. You smacked your lips, tasting the marinara Harry's made one hundred times. “Needs a bit more garlic,” you said. “But otherwise perfect.”
“You always say that,” Harry teased, rolling his eyes as he turned back to his sauce. There was something so warm about Harry, so safe, with his fluffy black hair and broad shoulders, his easy smile and quick wit.
“It's always true,” you argued, taking a sip of your wine to hide your smile.
Music from one of his muggle records filled the air, something acoustic and folksy that added to the peaceful vibe of the flat, carefully curated by yourself and your other roommate, Draco. The two of them needed a sanctuary after every they endured, and your shared flat became exactly that. A safe harbor from the chaotic world.
“Need a refill?” Harry asked, glancing at your almost empty glass, always trying to take be helpful.
“Trying to get me drunk, Potter?”
“Are we drinking?” Draco strode out from his room, his platinum hair still damp from the shower, dressed in a Slytherin crew neck and sweatpants. Your mouth went a little dry at the sight of him, the clean smell lingering on his skin, and you swallowed the rest of your wine.
“Someone is,” Harry chuckled, flashing you a cheeky smile.
Draco entered the kitchen, moving around Harry to grab a wine glass from a tall cabinet, his shirt riding up a bit to reveal the smooth skin of his lower abdomen.
“Ow! Fucker,” Harry hissed, shaking out his hand. “Damn stove.”
Draco snickered, pouring himself a generous glass of wine and topping up yours. “Distracted, Potter?” he teased, and a a flush crawled up Harry’s neck.
“Leave him alone,” you chastised, beckoning the spectacled boy towards you with a crooked finger. “Or else he’ll stop cooking for us.”
“Maybe for Malfoy,” Harry grumbled, placing his hand in your outstretched palm.
��Well, can’t have that. I’d starve to death.” Draco smirked, leaning against the counter and taking a sip of wine.
“Episkey,” you cast, healing the burn on Harry’s finger with a swipe of your thumb. “There we go,” you hummed, grinning at him.
“T-thanks,” he said, adjusting his glasses.
“How convenient, having our own pretty nurse at home,” Draco said, winking at you when you flipped him off.
Harry playfully checked Draco’s shoulder when he returned to the kitchen, and Draco muttered something in Harry’s ear, making him roll his eyes with a coy half-smile. They dove into conversation about their shared Auror classes, drastically different than your own courses for your Magical Creatures degree.
You turned back to your work, trying to tune them out and ignoring the increasingly familiar feeling of otherness that trickled in. Harry and Draco had a past that was inextricably entwined, two sides of the same coin, and their bond often left you feeling like a third-wheel in your own flat. Usually it didn't bother you, but the feelings had grown stronger and stronger over the last few weeks, creeping into almost every interaction with them and sucking the joy out of it. Tonight, it sat like a stone in your stomach.
You missed them, even though they were only a few feet away from you and you occupied the same 900 square foot space.
After a few minutes, Draco sidled up next you, leaning over your shoulder to read your notes. “Still studying, love?” He asked, close enough that his breath ghosted over your ear.
You suppressed a shiver. Draco loved nothing more than to get a rise out of you and Harry, and you weren’t in the mood to stroke his ego.
“Yes, I am,” you replied, voice more clipped than you intended, and you caught him and Harry share a look over you head, fueling your irritation.
Draco didn’t push, retreating back to his place in the kitchen. He and Harry continued to mutter to one another and exchange meaningful looks while Harry finished up dinner, acting as if you weren’t there at all.
Sometimes, if felt like they could read each other's minds, shared a connection deeper than words. Like two great trees with tangled roots, communicating in a language only the two of them understood.
Just when you were about to gather your things and hole up in your room for the night to wallow in self-pity, Harry set a plate under your nose, piled high with pasta.
“Added extra garlic for you,” he murmured, giving you a soft smile, and some of your irritation unwound.
“Thanks,” you said, a bit sheepish about your attitude.
“Course, can’t let you go hungry,” he teased, turning back to make his own plate.
Your heart gave a weak trill, but you quickly squashed it down. You were being silly, you all were just friends, roommates. They didn’t owe you anything, least of all a place in their hard-earned inner circle.
Their lives were full, and there wasn’t room for you.
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After dinner, you retreated to your room to shower, trying to pull yourself together. They had enough going on in their lives; the last thing they needed was your drama on top of everything else.
But no matter what you told yourself, the feeling lingered, sour on your stomach and bitter on your tongue.
Hair towel dried and dressed in a PJ set, you ventured back out into the living room. It was empty, but the large window leading to the fire escape was cracked open, low, masculine voices floating on the air.
You debated making yourself a cup of tea and leaving them to it, but your curiosity won out. You wrapped a blanket around your shoulders and lifted the window, stepping out onto the small balcony.
Harry was leaned against the railing, hands stuffed in his hoodie, and Draco was perched on the iron steps leading to the next floor, a cigarette hanging from his lips.
To your surprise, the air was thick with tension, heavy like an incoming storm. Draco's shoulders were up to his ears, the smoke from his cigarette hanging like smog in the London streetlights.
Was it because of you?
Harry moved to help you down, his hand steady and strong in yours, and closed the window behind you. “It's cold out here,” he cautioned, noting your still damp hair. “Is that blanket warm enough?”
You nodded, giving him a small smile of thanks. “Am I, uh, interrupting?” You asked, looking up at Draco. He looked so handsome in the low light, shadows sharpening his jaw, the cherry of the cigarette making his light eyes glow.
He shook his head, taking another drag.
“Course not.” Harry rubbed a hand on the back of his neck, leaning against the railing once again. He wasn't nearly as good of a liar as Draco.
“What were you talking about?” You asked, trying to sound casual.
“Just school stuff—”
“Nothing—”
They spoke at the same time, interrupting each other, then fell quiet again.
“Uh-huh,” you crossed your arms over your chest. “Don't stop on my account,” you said, sitting on the window sill and pulling the blanket tighter around your shoulders.
But, as you suspected, they stayed mum, exchanging a glance you couldn't decipher.
You wish it didn't, but it made you feel so alone, so…jealous. You craved their closeness more than anything.
“If you tell me what's going on, maybe I could help,” you offered.
Harry’s eyes softened. “Everything's okay. Please don't worry about us.”
“Of course I'm going to worry about you,” you countered, the edge of your voice betraying the hurt feelings you were trying to shove down.
Harry frowned, concern drawing his dark brows together. “I know, but…”
Draco stubbed his cigarette on the steps. “Come here,” he said, extending a hand to you.
Harry's eyes widened in surprise.
Uncertainty made your heart beat quicken, but you placed your fingers in Draco’s palm. He drew you up and between his knees on the steps, guiding your hand to wrap around his middle. The warmth of his body overruled your hesitation, and you leaned into his chest, head resting on his shoulder.
He smelled like smoke and his amber body wash, and something new fluttered to life in your belly.
“Potter’s right,” Draco murmured, his voice resonant in his chest. “You shouldn't worry about us.”
You didn't reply, unable to articulate why ‘us’ bothered you so much. Just another reminder that there was them, and then there was you.
You glanced up at Draco, finding his eyes not trained on you, but on Harry, molten like fired glass, and your hurt deepened. You tried to pull away, but Draco locked an arm around your shoulders, his gaze flicking down to yours.
You turned away, averting your eyes.
“Please don't be upset,” Harry said, a twinge of worry in his voice. “We just don't want you too—”
“We're trying to protect you,” Draco said.
You pulled back, and Draco let you, though he didn't let you step out from between his long legs. “Protect me from what? Memories?” You asked, looking to Harry.
“Memories are powerful,” he said. “They're a burden. We’re a burden, and we don't want to put that on you.”
You stared at him. “A burden?” You hissed, pulling away from Draco fully to face Harry. “How could you think that?”
Harry couldn't look at you, his eyes on the ground. “We said we would never make your life harder, pile our shit onto your shoulders after you were kind enough to open your home,” he muttered. “You don't deserve that.”
“That’s what friends do,” you said, throat thick with frustrated tears. “I thought we were friends.”
Harry's head snapped up, pain evident in his eyes. “We are friends,” he insisted, pushing off the railing to approach you. “That's why we—”
“We,” you scoffed. “You don't get it, Harry.” You turned away from him, only to bump directly into Draco's chest, his expression hard.
“You really want to know what we were talking about?” He asked, jaw feathering with tension.
“That's not—”
“It is, though. Isn't it? You're feeling left out.”
You flushed, turning away from his too-perceptive gaze, but he caught your chin with his hand, forcing you look up at him.
“Malfoy,” Harry warned.
“No, if she wants the truth, she'll have it.” Draco shot Harry a look, and the other boy made a strangled sound in the back of his throat. Draco looked back at you, a reckless sort of intensity in his eyes. “Potter here was telling me about how he asked you to taste the sauce just so he could feed it to you. It's why he made it in the first place.”
“Draco,” Harry snapped, and your eyes widened in shock.
“And then I told him that I liked your new body wash—coconut or something? And that I wondered what it tasted like on your skin.” He backed you against the brick wall, his body warm and solid against yours. Your heart was beating so loud, you almost couldn't hear him. “That the reason I came out here was because the fucking smell of you, hot and wet and naked in the shower, was driving me mad, and I was this close to charging into that bathroom and eating you for dessert.”
You were stunned silent, staring up at him in complete and utter disbelief. He wanted you? They both wanted you?
“Draco, I—”
“You wanted to know the big fucking secret, darling. That's it. We're both completely and utterly obsessed with you, sick with it.” His breath was hot against your cheek, the rumble of his voice swirling around the shell of your ear and making you shiver, that flutter you felt earlier building to a twister of want, the clarity sudden and striking.
You were jealous and hurting because you wanted them.
“We haven’t said anything because—because we don't want to ruin the one friendship we have that isn't rooted in our past,” Harry added, wringing his hands together. “We don't want to lose you, or make you uncomfortable.”
Draco moved to step back, uncertainty creeping into his expression, and a bolt of fear pierced your heart. No, no, no. You grabbed him without thinking, letting your blanket fall to the ground
“You couldn't lose me,” you admitted. “I want you both too.”
“You want us too?” Draco asked, skeptical eyes searching your face.
“Please,” you whispered.
He immediately folded, crushing you back against the wall, and crashed his mouth to your in a rough, desperate kiss. He groaned low in his throat, the sound turning your core to liquid, and drove his tongue into your mouth, swiftly taking control of the kiss. You were putty in his hands, flayed open for him to claim, to ravage with tongue and teeth. It felt like you were flying. Like he'd picked you up and dropped you over the edge of the roof. Plummeting. Freefall.
“Fuck, you taste so sweet,” he rasped, kissing down your jaw and lapping at the place where your pulse surged under your skin. In a quick movement, Draco spun your around, his back to the wall with your back pressed to his front, his arms bracketed around your middle.
Harry was standing there, eyes wide and cheeks pink, his grip tight on the railing behind him.
“Harry,” you whined, voice pitching higher when Draco's mouth found the sweet spot under your ear.
“I—”
“Bloody hell, Potter. Fucking kiss her.” Draco ordered, and Harry surged forward like he was waiting for permission. His hands reached up to cradle your face as his lips connected with yours. Harry's kiss was softer, more timid than Draco's. A question, rather than a command.
Your hands fisted in his hoodie, drawing him closer as you licked along the seam of his lips, tasting wine and his honey lip balm as he parted for you, gliding his tongue along yours.
“Fucking finally,” Draco purred, his hand sliding under your shirt to splay across your stomach, pressing you tighter against him. “How's she taste, Potter?” He asked, his other hand coming up to rest against your throat.
“Like heaven,” Harry murmured, breath hitching when you nipped at his lower lip. He pressed himself harder against you, squishing you between their bodies, and you gasped, hands flying up to tangle in Harry’s unruly hair.
Harry grew a bit bolder, licking into your mouth with hungry strokes. Your hips canted forward, your pussy practically begging for attention, and you felt Harry's erection press against your hip, throbbing beneath his pajama pants.
“What a good girl,” Draco cooed, his hand sneaking higher to cup your breast, his thumb grazing your taught nipple. You moaned into Harry's mouth, arching your spine to press your chest into Draco's palm. “Being so sweet for us.” Draco tightened his hand around your throat, grinding his erection into your ass.
Harry's hands wandered south, pawing at your curves over your pajamas until he gripped your ass, rocking your more intentionally against him and Draco.
Draco hissed through his teeth when Harry's hand grazed his cock. You thought maybe it was an accident until you felt Harry smile, the slightest quirk of his mouth, as he brushed Draco's cock again.
“Inside, now,” Draco rumbled, shifting off the wall and send you and Harry stumbling forward.
Harry steadied you, a hand on your hip. “Is that what you want?” He asked, searching your face.
“Yes.” You nodded, tugging him in by the hoodie strings for a quick peck. “I want you,” you murmured against his lips, and he grinned.
“Come on, then,” Draco called, already inside, a hand extended to you. You took it and he hauled you inside, placing a hand over the bottom of the open window so you didn't hit your head in your haste. Harry clamored in right behind you, shutting and locking the window while Draco guided you to sit down on the couch, his lips on yours again.
Harry sat on the other side of you, shirking his hoodie. Draco leaned you back to drape across Harry's thighs, pushing up your shirt to kiss across your hips. Harry tugged the shirt over your head, exposing your chest to them.
“So pretty, sweetheart,” Harry murmured, his fingertips grazing over your ribcage, the other draped over the back of the couch. You felt like you were burning, desire spreading under your skin like a brush fire.
“Lift your hips for me, love,” Draco said, looking up at your through blond lashes. You obeyed, leaning more of your weight onto Harry, and Draco hooked his fingers into your waist band, sliding down your pants and panties in one go.
It struck you how normal this all felt. How comfortable and right.
Draco spread your legs, fingertips dimpling into your tender skin. His lips connected with your inner thigh, feather light and teasing as he trailed closer towards your dripping pussy.
Harry's hand cupped your tits, pinching and rolling your nipples lightly, just enough pressure to make you squirm, head falling back onto the couch. His eyes bounced around your body, like he couldn't decide where to focus his attention.
“Merlin, please,” you whined when Draco kissed just north of your clit, smirking against your skin.
“Please what, baby?” Draco asked, resting his cheek on your thigh.
“Please touch me.” You tangled your fingers into Draco's hair, nudging him closer to your core. “Please.”
Harry groaned above you, his cock kicking against your shoulder. But he continued his leisurely ministrations, following Draco's lead. Their easy, instinctual dynamic made your head a little fuzzy, your pussy ache.
Draco hummed, gliding his thumb over your slit, collecting the honey waiting for him. You moaned, hips chasing Draco's touch, but it was gone as quickly as it came.
Holding your gaze, he swiped his tongue over his thumb, tasting you. You loosed an aggravated huff, squirming between them.
Harry shushed you, petting your head like you were an unruly kitten. “Stop torturing her, D,” Harry said, glaring down at the blond.
Draco tsked. “But don't you want a taste?” He asked, dragging two fingers through you before lifting them to Harry's mouth.
Harry’s eyes widened, going a bit glassy, and he nodded. Draco smirked triumphantly and fed his fingers between the other boys lips. Harry moaned, his eyes fluttering closed as he sucked your slick off Draco's long fingers, his tongue twining around his knuckles.
You whimpered, thighs clenching around Draco.
“Can you blame me for wanting to savor this?” Draco murmured, slipping his fingers from Harry’s mouth and bringing them back between your legs. He eased his middle finger inside of you, pumping slowly and watching your face crumble in pleasure, a broken moans spilling from your lips.
Harry placed a hand behind your head, lifting your face to his for an eager kiss. You could taste yourself on his tongue, heady and sweet, and you tangled your fingers into his hair, drawing him closer, kissing him harder.
Draco added another finger, scissoring you open and massaging your gummy walls with precision. His lips found your clit, nursing gently, and pleasure bloomed through you, a burgeoning glow in your belly. You gasped into Harry's mouth when he tweaked your nipples again, tugging his hair hard enough to make him whimper.
Draco kissed up your body, his fingers still fucking into you, and dragged his tongue along your cheek, a silent question. You turned your head to kiss him, his nose and chin covered in your slick. Harry nosed closer, licking at the mess along Draco's chin, and he turned, catching Harry's lips in a sloppy, almost competitive dueling of tongues. Harry groaned when you licked and kissed down his neck, Draco's fingers still coaxing soft moans from your lips.
You grabbed at the hem of Draco's shirt, struggling to pull it off in the tangle of limbs, and Draco chuckled, sitting back on his heels. He withdrew his fingers, sucking them clean before standing up to undress himself.
Harry shifted behind you, tossing his t-shirt aside. You sat up, shifting to straddle him, the only thing separating you the thin fabric of his pajama pants. You'd seen Harry shirtless countless times, his tanned skin drawn tight over lean muscles from years of Quidditch and Auror training, but having him spread out beneath you, yours to enjoy, made your cunt quiver with anticipation, your mouth fill with saliva.
Harry flushed under your gaze, averting his eyes from your openly appreciative expression. You leaned down, pressing a kiss to his cheek, in a trail towards his ear.
“You're gorgeous, Harry,” you murmured, rolling your hips over the thick bulge between his legs. He groaned, hands moving from your thighs to grip your hips.
“Isn't he?” Draco hummed, taking a swallow of wine while he watched the two of you, an almost predatory glint in his eye. “Was always jealous that I never filled out like that.” He chuckled.
“Oh, sod off,” Harry said, breathless as you slowly rocked against him. “You were always the hot one.”
“Never said I wasn't,” Draco smirked, setting the wine glass down.
Harry opened his mouth to retort, but you silenced him with a kiss, drawing his attention back to you.
His hips bucked up into you, his cock so hard it had to be painful. Desperate to be sheathed inside you. You were ravenous for him too, plagued by the absence left by Draco's fingers. The grinding grew more intense as your need mounted, rough and sloppy in a way that had the two of you whining into the kiss, waiting for…something.
Draco leaned on the back of the couch behind Harry, smoothing your hair from your face. “You look unbelievable right now, darling,” he murmured. “So perfect for us. Right, Potter?”
Harry nodded, his face buried into the crook of your neck, calloused hands like a vice on your hips.
“You want to fuck her, Harry?” Draco combed his fingers through Harry's dark waves, tugging his head back against the couch.
“Merlin, yes. Want to fuck you so bad, love,” he panted up at you, glasses fogging from the heat of his body.
“Yes, please, Harry. Need you,” you moaned, your swollen clit dragging against his cock in a way that made you see stars.
“Go on, then. What are you waiting for?” Draco purred, knowing damn well you were waiting for his permission, even if you didn't quite know why.
Both you and Harry were too far gone to respond to his teasing. Harry wrapped an arm around your waist, lifting you up so he could free himself from his bottoms. You couldn't see what he was packing from your position, but when the head nudged your entrance, it felt like a fist prodding at you.
“Holy fuck, Harry—” you gasped, grabbing onto Draco when the head breeched your pussy, Harry grunting beneath you at the tight fit.
“Seven bloody saints, baby. S'fucking tight,” he groaned, his face buried in your tits.
“Relax, love,” Draco soothed, caressing your cheek with the backs of his fingers. “You can take it.”
“Fuck, fuck—ngh, it's too big,” you cried, even as your pussy stretched around Harry’s length, accepting him inch by torturous inch.
“It’s alright, darling. You're doing so well already.” Draco placed a tender kiss to your forehead. “Isn't she, Potter?”
“M'trying to be careful, baby but f-fuck,” Harry grated, his hips stuttering up, a flicker of pain making you whimper. “Sorry, sorry. You just feel so good.” Harry kissed up your sternum, his free hand coming up to angle your head down towards him. “Just a little more,” he murmured, your forehead resting on his. His chest rose and fell in a deep breath, and you mirrored him, breathing in tandem through the final stretch.
Your full weight settled onto his hips, his cock buried inside of you, and you both moaned as the pain morphed into pleasure, lips connecting an airy, breathless kiss.
You flexed your thighs, lifting up on Harry's cock before rolling back down, gasping into Harry's mouth at the delicious, full feeling.
“Fuck, just like that,” Harry moaned, using his grip on your hips to help you slide up and down his cock. “Merlin, you're so fucking sexy.”
Your head tipped back on your shoulders, moans spilling freely as Harry started bucking up into you, cockhead kissing your cervix with every powerful thrust and making your eyes cross. You could feel him everywhere, ecstasy humming along your nerves and sweetening your blood, the sound of your sopping pussy squelching around him wonderfully lewd.
Lost in Harry, you hadn't noticed Draco move until you heard him moan, the sound scraping through his teeth. You glanced over, seeing him stretched out in his chair, his fist wrapped around his cock and stroking slowly, watching you and Harry through heavy-lidded eyes.
It wasn't as thick as Harry’s, but long and slightly curved, the head and angry pink and shiny with precum. Draco spit onto it, lubricating himself, and your whole body reacted to the sight, clenching hard around Harry as a fresh gush of arousal surged through you.
Harry cried out, his rhythm faltering for a moment, and Draco smirked, knowing what affect he had on you.
“Shit, m’not gonna last much longer with you squeezin’ me like that—f-fucking hell,” his voice fractured into another moan when you clenched around him again, watching Draco synchronize his hand to Harry's thrusts, keeping pace with the two of you.
Fuck, it was so hot being caught between the two of them. You were the clearly at the center of their desires, but you could tell they craved one another too, got some satisfaction out of sharing you. Whether it was for pleasure, or some twisted game between old rivals, you couldn't quite tell.
You were teetering on the edge of release, Harry's hunger coupled with Draco's restraint ratcheting you higher and higher.
“Come for me, love.” Harry grabbed you by the hair, rougher than he had been, and forced you to look at him while he pounded up into you. His eyes were lust-blown and wild, cheeks flushed and brow sweaty. “Need to make you come first. C’mon, sweetheart, please—yes, baby, just like that—fuck, fuck!”
The coil in your stomach snapped at the same moment Harry's cock kicked against your walls, the first jet of release splattering against your cervix.
“Fuck, Harry!” You cried as the orgasm tore through you, bright and blissful. You clung to him, your spasming pussy making you both gasp and whine in pleasure as he continued working you over his cock. Milking himself with your limp body until the ecstasy finally dissipated.
You both collapsed back onto the couch, chests heaving and sticky with sweat. Harry drew you in for a kiss, his lips plush and tender, and you melted into his embrace, limbs heavy and thoughts sluggish.
You felt cool fingers run down your spine, making you twitch and whimper with sensitivity.
“Not done yet, are you, sweet girl?” Draco asked, urging you to turn over onto your back with a hand on your hip.
You obliged, settling with your back pressed against Harry's chest, legs falling open as Draco kneeled onto the couch. He loomed like hunter over a fresh catch, eyes shaded with desire, cock standing proud between his legs.
His fingers glided between your slit, collecting yours and Harry's combined released and pushing it back inside of you, pumping his fingers slowly into your messy entrance.
You mewled, head falling back onto Harry's shoulder as pleasure warred with overstimulation, the muscles in your legs trembling as your hips rocked into his palm.
“Shit, Draco,” Harry said, breathless as he watched Draco toy with you. “So fucking hot.”
Draco smiled, withdrawing his fingers and bringing them to his cock, smearing the mix of fluids over his shaft. “I'll corrupt you yet, Potter,” he teased, then looked down at you, eyes burning. “Come here, darling.”
You instantly sat up and leaned towards him, drawn like a magnet. Helpless to disobey. His fingers carded through your hair and fisting at the base of your scalp.
“Show me that pretty little tongue,” he ordered, grabbing the base of his cock and causing it swell even larger.
Your mouth fell open, tongue lolling out, and you heard Harry curse behind you, getting a clear view from the mirror against the wall.
“Such a good slut for us, hm?” Draco traced the edge of your lips with his cockhead, smearing release across your mouth, taunting you. “One cock isn't enough for you?”
You shook your head, batting your lashes up at him, wanting to give them both a show. To please them.
“Salazar’s sakes, love. Better stop looking at me like that, or I just might run out of patience,” Draco warned, tapping your tongue with his cock.
“I think she might like that,” Harry chuckled, kissing along the curve of your shoulder.
“I think you might be right, Potter.” Draco dragged you forward, driving halfway into your mouth.
You fastened your lips around him, hollowing your cheeks while you lapped at his velveteen skin. You could taste yourself, and what must be a mix of the two of them, and your eyes rolled back into your head, a pulse of arousal making your pussy clench and drip.
Draco cursed under his breath, moving you up and down his length by your hair, watching with rapt attention as you drooled and slurped around him, going completely brainless on his cock.
“Fuck, that feels so good. If your cunt feels half as good as your mouth—shit,” Draco moaned, holding you still so he could thrust into your throat, just hard enough to make tears spring in your eyes.
“Better, I’d wager,” Harry said, reaching around to grope your tits, making you moan around Draco's cock. “Wraps around ‘ya like a glove.”
Draco grunted, suddenly pulling you off of him. He crashed his mouth to yours with nearly as much fervor as the first kiss on the balcony, all tongue and teeth . He eased you back onto Harry's chest, using his other hand to line himself up with your center.
In one thrust, he bottomed out inside you, Harry's efforts ensuring your were pliable and ready.
“Fuuuuck,” Draco moaned, his head falling onto Harry's shoulder. “So fucking ready for me, baby. Weren't you?”
You nodded, crying out when he withdrew then slammed back into you, nails raking down his back at the intensity.
“That's it—good girl, such a good little slut f’me.” He wasted no time setting a brutal pace, fucking you hard into Harry while you screamed beneath him, lost in the dizzying, brutal pleasure. Draco fucked you out of your mind while Harry kept your body rooted in place. Murmuring sweet praise in your ear, coddling you like an angel, while Draco fucked you like you were anything but.
Harry's hand slid down between your legs, quick fingers working your puffy clit. “Doing so well, lovey. He's not being too rough, is he?”
You shook your head, nails digging into Harry's veiny forearm. “N-no—feels good.”
“Merlin, this cunt is a dream,” Draco growled against your ear, nipping at your skin when you fluttered around him, his words drawing a visceral reaction from your body. “Ours, now, yeah? Potter and I’s pretty cunt?”
“Yes, yes! Fuck, Draco—m’gonna come.” You clung desperately to them, trying to find purchase in the raging storm of pleasure, but it was quickly sweeping you away, dragging you under.
“That's it, give it to me—fuck!” Draco cried out, bottoming out inside of you when his release slammed into him, the heavy kick of his cock sending you over the edge. You came hard, feeling yourself bear down on him to an almost painful degree as you entire body locked up, vision swimming from the tears pooling on your eyes.
Harry shushed you, pressing kisses into your hair. “You can take it,” he murmured. “We've got you.”
“Fucking hell, love,” Draco panted, rocking his hips into you as you rode out the waves of pleasure, the weight of their bodies keeping you from squirming away when overstimulation kicked in.
“Draco—fuck, ah, too much,” you whimpered.
“Sorry, baby,” he cooed, catching your lips in an apologetic kiss. “Could stay wrapped in your forever,” he murmured against your lips, and you felt your heart flip, heat spreading in your cheeks. Draco stole a final thrust before slumping back onto the other end of the couch, chest heaving, softening cock glistening with your combined release.
If you weren't wrung out like a sponge, you'd clean him up with your tongue.
Harry slipped out from behind you, grabbing his wand from the table to magically clean the three of you up and put his pants back on. “Are you alright, love?” He asked, draping a blanket over your shoulders and sitting beside you, suddenly sheepish again.
“I'm exhausted,” you replied with a breathy chuckle. “Good exhausted.” You amended when concern flickered across his face. “Are you okay?”
“I'm good.” He glanced over at Draco, still prone with his eyes closed. “I think you may have killed him.”
Draco lifted an arm, flipping Harry off, and you giggled. He sat up, not making any move to cover himself. “We should set some ground rules.”
Harry rolled his eyes. “Would it kill you to relax for a second?”
“It's for her benefit,” Draco bit. “This could get…messy.”
You nodded in agreement, a tendril of worry curling around your spine. Draco was notorious for one night stands, was that all this was?
“It stays between us, firstly,” Draco said, and you and Harry nodded in agreement. “Potter and I living together kept the Daily Prophet open for weeks. A sex scandal is the last thing we need.”
“It's a flat thing, nothing else,” you said, getting ahead of what you were sure was coming. “Roommates that fuck.” It was safer that way, less complicated.
“Flatmates with benefits,” Harry gave a wry chuckle, though it didn't meet his eyes.
“Group only, or…?” You glanced at Draco, and he looked back at Harry.
Harry shrugged. “I'm okay with splitting off now and then.”
Draco's jaw feathered, but he didn't argue.
Shit, this really could get messy. But you were too relieved to care. Now that you'd had a taste of them, there was no way you could turn back. And it seemed the men were in agreement, even if the details were a bit murky.
“So, we have a deal?” You asked.
“Deal,” they said in unison, and you shook on it, a clumsy arrangement of three hands.
Flatmates with benefits, how hard could that be?
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Thank you for reading!
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nottsangel · 7 months ago
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yessssss!!! I’m so glad you do! All I’ve been thinking about it how into anal Draco would be. He wants to fully claim all of you, make you his slut. He bends you over and takes you from behind and plugs your ass, once you’ve cum on his cock he’s gonna fuck your ass and finish there 😵‍💫
sorry if this is badly written 🫠 English is not my first language.
-written from my bed with my plug in, very much in the mood for this with him today
you’re already trembling by the time draco has cum deep inside your pussy, leaving you filled to the brim with a pink butt plug in your ass— but you know he isn’t done yet. ever since you first tried anal, he has become addicted to coming in both your holes, unable to simply choose one— and why should he? you’re fully his anyway. all of you.
“how pathetic. already shaking like that even though we’ve just begun. now, turn around f’me.” draco orders in a stern voice. you instantly comply, getting onto all fours, but struggling to move your limp body, your head immediately sinking into the soft pillows with your ass up. you feel his ringed fingers squeezing your ass, as he mesmerisingly watches a mixture of his warm cum and your juices slowly trickle out of you onto the satin sheets, making a mess everywhere.
“gonna fill both your holes, yeah? like the dirty slut you are.” draco growls as he unexpectedly takes out the plug, causing you to let out a quavering whine. a soft please slips from your lips, unable to properly speak at this point as your head feels like it’s spinning. you feel draco’s fingers gather some of his sperm from your leaking cunt, his rings feeling cold against your core, before using it as lube to coat both his throbbing cock and your hole.
“need you to relax f’me, darling.” draco urges softly as he teases your tight hole with the tip of his sperm-covered cock, his hand steadily gripping your hips before slowly pushing in. with a sudden gasp, your nails claw at the delicate fabric of the bedsheets, causing it to tear slightly. a string of curse words slips from draco’s lips as he begins to move, hips thrusting in and out in a steady rhythm that leaves you seeing stars.
“so fuckin’ tight” draco growls and you moan in response, unable to form any coherent sentences as nothing but choked sobs escape your mouth, with draco’s hand pushing your head further into the soft pillows. the sensation feels entirely different from when he was pounding into your cunt— yet so heavenly. your toes curl as each thrust hits parts so deep inside of you, causing your cunt to clench around nothing and his sperm to leak further out of you. “look at you. such a fuckin’ mess for me. gonna cum inside of you again, love. until you’re nothing but a pathetic, cum-filled slut.”
ੈ♡˳
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shortnspidey · 7 days ago
Text
QUIDDITCH COLLISIONS
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draco malfoy x fem!slytherin!reader || WC: 4.9K
SUMMARY: Unlike your famous boyfriend, Draco Malfoy, your personality was a refreshing change from the typical Slytherin arrogance. You often challenge Draco's aggressive behavior, amusing some and annoying others. But when Draco gets seriously injured in a brutal Quidditch match, a chilling protectiveness surfaced. Anyone who dared to cross him or speak ill of him faced the real reason you were sorted into Slytherin. The ambition and ruthlessness of the house now burned within you, fueled by the fear of losing him.
WARNINGS: established relationship, soft!draco, steamy kissing, cursing, typical Harry Potter themes, Cedric Diggory is alive and well, quidditch injuries, hurt-comfort themes
A/N: Happy Valentine's Day!! My first Draco fic is dedicated to all my fellow single people spending Valentine's day alone!! I'm such a sucker for soft Draco! Hope you all enjoy! Beautiful dividers by @bernardsbendystraws <3
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➩ harry potter masterlist
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The icy wind bit at your face as you pulled your scarf tighter around your neck, the frost clinging to your eyelashes. Yet, you couldn't help but grin as you marched into the Great Hall. You knew Daphne was probably already teasing you about it, but you didn't care. You were wearing Draco's Quidditch jumper, and it smelled faintly of wood, citrus, and his signature cologne that you loved dearly.
As you neared the Slytherin table, a sea of faces washed over you – stony expressions, bored glances, and the occasional whispered conversation. Then, you spotted him. Draco Malfoy, a beacon of platinum hair and shockingly vibrant emerald green jumper, stood out amongst the crowd. He seemed to be engaged in a heated discussion with Theo and Blaise, his brow furrowed in concentration, a grim set to his jaw.
The usual arrogance seemed to be replaced by a genuine intensity, making him appear even more captivating than usual. Enzo spotted you first. Letting out a dramatic sigh of relief that could be heard across the Great Hall, he pushed himself away from the table and speed-walked towards you. His usually carefree demeanor was replaced by a look of genuine distress.
Before you could even greet him with a smile, he had reached you, his hand firmly grasping your wrist. "Come on," He muttered, practically dragging you towards the end of the table. “Well good morning to you too, Enzo.” You retorted sarcastically matching his pace. You saw him look anxiously between you and your boyfriend, who, completely oblivious to your arrival, continued his animated conversation with Theo and Blaise, his voice rising in frustration.
"Please, for the love of Merlin, make him stop." He huffed motioning over to his cousin. "What's going on?" You questioned, brows furrowing in confusion. Enzo simply shrugged, a helpless expression gracing his features. "Ask him yourself." He muttered, sinking back into his chair as if to avoid the impending storm. "Draco," You called out softly, your voice a gentle murmur in the otherwise boisterous Great Hall. He didn't even flinch.
"Love," You tried again, adding a saccharine sweetness to your voice that would have made even Honeydukes' most potent sweets blush. Finally, as if snapping out of a trance, his grey eyes met yours. They were stormy, a mixture of anger, frustration, and something else… something you couldn't quite place. Then, as if a switch had been flipped, the storm subsided. His entire tense demeanor immediately softened, the lines of anger disappearing from his face.
"Darling," He breathed out, his voice a low rumble, reaching for your manicured hand and pulling you closer, as if to convince himself you were real. He held your hand tightly, his fingers intertwining with yours, the warmth of his skin radiating through you. "Thank Salazar she's here." You heard Theo exasperate, his expression mirroring Enzo's. You ignored their commentary, solely focused on the boy in front of you. Now that you were closer, you could see the bags under his eyes, a stark contrast to his usual flawless complexion.
He looked exhausted, and that made your heart ache. "Did you get any sleep last night?" You asked him softly, reaching out to caress his cheekbone, your fingers tracing the lines of fatigue etched on his face. As if you were the only two people in the Great Hall, he nuzzled his face into your palm, a soft sigh escaping his lips. His eyes, usually so cold and calculating, now held a warmth that surprised you. They traced over your figure, lingering on his quidditch number and last name embroidered on your chest.
"You look absolutely breathtaking in my jumper," He purred, a mischievous glint returning to his eyes. The compliment would have normally made your knees buckle, but you knew him well enough to know it was a tactic to get you distracted, a playful attempt to avoid confronting the emotions that were clearly swirling beneath the surface. "Draco," You chastised, squeezing his hand, a silent plea to get him to express what was on his mind. "Is this about the match later today?" You questioned, taking a wild guess as to why his attitude was all over the place.
As if on cue, his facial expressions said everything his words didn't convey. The grimace making a reappearance, twisting his features into a mask of pure fury. His eyes, now held a dangerous glint. "Fucking Cavendish," He spat venomously, the word tasting like bile in his mouth. Now it all made sense. Bryce Cavendish, Hufflepuff seeker, and as of now Draco's sworn enemy. Which said a lot, considering Harry Potter had always been at the very top of his list.
"He was up all night." Blaise mumbled, his eyes darting nervously towards Draco. "Reviewing plays for hours," Theo added with a scoff, his voice barely a whisper. If looks could kill, Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott would both be six-feet under with the way Draco was looking at them. His gaze, icy and lethal, sent a shiver down their spines. "Draco," You coaxed, taking a seat next to him, hoping to somehow diffuse his anger. You placed a gentle hand on his arm, his muscles tensing beneath your touch.
"We've talked about this. You can't let him get to you." He sighed, running a hand down his face in frustration, the lines of anger deepening on his forehead. "I know, darling," He admitted, his voice rough with suppressed fury. "But the bastard knows how to get inside my bloody head." Looking up at the three boys in front of you, judging by their expressions you knew Draco was already way over his head about this match in particular. "You're the best seeker in all of Hogwarts," You praised, smoothing out the crease in his perfectly pressed tie.
"He's just jealous," You added with a reassuring smile, punctuating your words with a sweet kiss to his cheek. He closed his eyes momentarily, leaning into your touch, the tension visibly draining from his shoulders. A contented sigh escaped his lips, a low rumble that vibrated against your ear. "Thank you, darling," He muttered so softly under his breath, if you hadn't been close you were sure you wouldn't have heard him. "I'm sure I'll get over it before the match." He reassured, his gaze, though still a little guarded, held a warmth that melted away the last remainder of his earlier anger.
Yet before you could even continue to ask him what was actually bothering him, he threw an arm over your shoulders and pulled you closer, his hand resting possessively on your waist. Luckily for him, Pansy arrived at the table, her voice a shrill counterpoint to the hushed murmurs of the Great Hall. "Y/N, you will not believe who I just saw…" She began, her voice a whirlwind of gossip and exaggerated pronouncements. Her arrival pulled your attention away from your boyfriend and the lingering tension that still clung to him, replaced by a forced smile and a polite inquiry into Pansy's latest conquest.
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Draco, in fact, did not get over it. All throughout your shared Potions class, you'd catch him zoning off, his gaze flitting around the room. He would absentmindedly tap his foot against the stone floor, a nervous habit you hadn't noticed before. Unfortunately for him, you weren't the only one who seemed to notice his off-putting behavior. Snape, his eyes narrowed to slits like a venomous snake, watched Draco with disdain. You could only guess what was going through his mind as he calculated his best students every move.
Thankfully, you were able to turn Draco's attention back to the task at hand before Snape could intervene. You gently nudged his elbow with yours, a silent message that you were there for him. He looked up, startled, his eyes meeting yours. A flicker of gratitude passed, before he quickly returned his attention to the bubbling potion in his cauldron, trying to focus on the task at hand. You knew the last thing Draco needed was to get reprimanded before his big match. He was already battling enough inner demons without Snape adding to his inner turmoil.
After class was over, you barely had time to blink before Draco was jumping out of his seat, pressing a kiss to your cheek before rushing out of the classroom, presumably towards the Quidditch pitch. As you gathered the rest of your belongings, your eyes connected with Hermione Granger's who seemed to share your expression of concern. After all, Draco's personality was known to be strong and passionate in a classroom setting, but his competitive spirit, when ignited, could be truly terrifying.
You gave her a reassuring smile, trying to project an air of confidence you didn't entirely feel, before making way out of the classroom yourself. Holding your books tightly to your chest, you made a beeline for Draco's dormitory, the stone walls of the castle looming large around you. You needed to see him before the match, to make sure he was alright. Reaching his room, you quickly dropped off your books and grabbed yours his favorite scarf, wrapping it securely around your neck, knowing it would be bitterly cold on those stands.
As you walked towards the Quidditch pitch, the vibrant green of the field a stark contrast against the grey stone of the castle, the nauseating pit of anxiety grew in your stomach. It was like a physical manifestation of your fear, twisting and churning within you. Although Draco had played against Hufflepuff before, these matches had always been a mere formality. But ever since Bryce Cavendish had joined the Hufflepuff team, something had shifted. Draco, usually so confident and arrogant, had become strangely subdued, preoccupied with thoughts that seemed to weigh heavily on his mind.
Anytime you'd even try to bring up the subject, Draco would resort to his usual tactics to shift the conversation away from what was truly bothering him. Thankfully, Enzo was able to sneak you past Madame Hooch, her attention momentarily diverted by a particularly boisterous group of Hufflepuffs. You knew he needed a little positive reassurance before the match, if not you were certain the boys would all get their heads chewed off by the time the first bludger flew.
As you neared the entryway of the boy's changing rooms, you spotted Enzo, Blaise, and Theo leaning against the wall, their faces a mixture of anxiety and anticipation. "How's he doing?" You asked, your voice barely a whisper, your eyes searching the room for any sign of Draco. "Hasn't lost his quip and sarcasm that's for sure," Blaise replied, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "He's been giving poor Theo a hard time about his choice of socks." You let out a small laugh, feeling a wave of relief wash over you. "That’s good," You whispered, a genuine smile finally gracing your lips.
Theo, ever the observant one, noticed the shift in your demeanor. "He'll be fine, Dolcezza. He's a Malfoy. He thrives on competition." You nodded, though the lingering anxiety still clung to you. "I know," You murmured, "But… I just worry." You admitted. "We all do," He admitted, his usual nonchalance replaced by a rare display of vulnerability. "He's our friend, after all." Just as you were about to respond, the doors to the changing rooms opened and out walked the rest of the Slytherin quidditch boys, all except Draco.
"He kicked everyone out," Adrian Pucey explained, his voice subdued, "Said he needed a moment alone." That was your cue. With a surge of adrenaline, you pushed past the remaining boys, your heart pounding a frantic rhythm against your ribs. With a final deep breath, you pushed open the door to the changing room, your heart pounding in your chest. If there was one thing that never failed to make you swoon, it was Draco in his Quidditch gear. The emerald green of the Slytherin robes seemed to deepen the grey hue of his eyes, making them sparkle with an almost predatory like intensity.
His usually pale skin was flushed with a healthy color, and his normally perfectly styled hair was slightly disheveled, giving him a rugged, almost dangerous charm. He looked every inch the confident, arrogant Slytherin, but beneath the bravado, you knew there was a vulnerability, a fierce protectiveness that only you were privileged to witness. "Shouldn't you be outside along with everyone else?" You questioned watching as his body tensed momentarily upon hearing your voice. He hadn't expected you. You could see it in the way his eyes widened slightly, the way his jaw clenched. "You shouldn't be here," He muttered, a frown creasing his forehead.
"Enzo let me in," You explained, a mischievous glint in your eye. "Besides," You added, walking towards him, "Who's going to keep you motivated and wish you good luck before your match?" He grinned, the tension that had been plaguing him earlier visibly melting away, replaced by a warmth that spread across his features. He reached out, his hand brushing against your cheek, his thumb gently stroking your skin. "You," He said, his voice husky, a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine. "Always you." He leaned in, his eyes searching yours, a mixture of longing and possessiveness burning within them.
You closed your eyes, tilting your head up, meeting his lips with a fervor that mirrored his own. His kiss was demanding, passionate, a whirlwind of emotions that swept you off your feet. The world around you faded away, leaving only the intensity of his touch, the taste of mint and something faintly metallic, the scent of his cologne mixing with the earthy aroma of the changing room. Your fingers tangled in his hair, your hands tracing the contours of his face, memorizing every curve, every imperfection.
He groaned softly against your lips, pulling you closer, his body pressed against yours. You could feel the warmth radiating from him, the strength of his arms around you, a comforting anchor in the whirlwind of emotions. Time seemed to cease to exist, replaced by the intoxicating rhythm of his kisses, the intoxicating scent of him. Finally, he pulled back, his eyes searching yours, his breath coming in ragged gasps. “There’s plenty more of where that came from, after you win.” Upon hearing the implication in your words, a mischievous glint returned to his eyes.
You smiled, your heart pounding against your ribs. "Now go out there and show them what you're made of. Go kick some Hufflepuff arse!" He grinned, his eyes sparkling with a newfound confidence. "For you," He murmured, pressing a final, lingering kiss to your lips before turning and striding towards the field, his Quidditch robes swirling around him. You watched him go, your heart overflowing with pride and a fierce protectiveness of your own. Sneaking out, before Madame Hooch could scold you, you made your way towards the stands.
Your chest burned with pride among seeing fellow Slytherin’s decked out in house pride, eagerly awaiting the match to start. "Where were you?" Pansy pulled you into her side, eager to shield herself from the cold. "You were gone forever!" Astoria, who was beside you, smirked. "Oh Pans," She drawled, reaching over to poke your rosy cheek. "Just look at her." She pointed to your blushing complexion, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "I bet you ten galleons that Malfoy and her were snogging." She snickered. "Shut up!" You exclaimed, though a blush crept up your neck despite your denial. You knew Astoria was right, of course. But you weren't about to admit it.
Thankfully, the roar of the crowd as the Slytherin and Hufflepuff Quidditch teams took to the field was able to distract both girls from questioning you further. Draco, resplendent in emerald green, looked every bit the confident Seeker, a glint of determination in his eyes. You watched him from the stands, your heart pounding in your chest. He caught your gaze and gave you a small, encouraging smile, the tension that had plagued him earlier completely gone. At the sound of Madame Hooch’s whistle the match began with a flurry of activity. Bludgers whizzed through the air, narrowly missing players.
Chasers weaved and dodged, their expressions grim as they battled for possession of the Quaffle. Draco, however, remained calm and collected, his eyes scanning the field, ever vigilant for the elusive Golden Snitch. The first few minutes of the game were a fierce battle for dominance. Neither team seemed to have a clear advantage. Then, in a spectacular move, Draco, with a sudden burst of speed, intercepted a Hufflepuff pass, soaring through the air with a grace that took your breath away. The crowd erupted in cheers, their voices a thunderous roar that echoed through the stadium.
However, the joy was short-lived. Bryce Cavendish, a look of pure hatred etched on his face, veered sharply towards Draco, his broom dangerously close to colliding with the blonde's. Draco, agile and experienced, managed to avoid the collision, but the near miss seemed to have rattled him. He shook his head, trying to regain his focus, but it was clear that Cavendish had gotten to him. “You can do it, Draco!” You shouted hoping he could hear you over the crowd. Your eyes met Cavenish’s, the smirk on his lips making your fists and jaw clench. Bloody bastard.
The match continued, a tense and hard-fought battle. Draco, despite his initial setback, played with a fierce determination, his every move calculated and precise. He made several impressive catches, weaving through the Hufflepuff defense with a skill that drew gasps from the crowd. But then, disaster struck. As Draco soared through the air, his eyes fixed on the elusive Snitch, a sudden wave of dizziness washed over him. He felt disoriented, his grip on his broom loosening. You watched in horror as he tried to regain control, but it was too late.
The crowd gasped as Draco plummeted towards the ground. He landed with a sickening thud, his body crumpling against the grass. A hush fell over the stadium, broken only by your panicked cries. You felt your blood run cold. You pushed your way through the crowd, your heart pounding in your chest. As you reached Draco's side, the sight that greeted you stole the air from your lungs. He lay motionless on the ground, his face pale and drawn, a thin trickle of blood snaking from the corner of his mouth. His left arm was bent at an unnatural angle, the bone clearly visible protruding through a tear in his robes.
His eyes were closed, his usually arrogant features slack and vulnerable. Madam Hooch was already at his side, her face etched with deep concern, her wand glowing with a soft, diagnostic light. She was muttering under her breath, her brow furrowed in concentration. She looked up at you, her eyes filled with a grim understanding. “He’s sustained a number of injuries, a broken arm. He’s also… he’s hit his head quite hard.” She gestured towards a small but rapidly swelling lump on Draco’s temple, half-hidden by his pale blonde hair. “We need to get him to the infirmary immediately.”
You knelt beside Draco, your hand trembling as you reached out to touch his face. His skin was cold and clammy. “Draco?” You whispered, your voice barely audible. There was no response. Panic clawed at your throat, making it difficult to breathe. “Draco, please,” You begged, tears stinging your eyes. You pressed your fingers against his wrist, searching frantically for a pulse. It was faint, thready, almost imperceptible. Madam Hooch placed a hand on your shoulder, her grip firm but gentle. “He’s unconscious. We need to move him carefully. I’ll summon a stretcher.” She raised her wand again, this time a burst of red sparks shot into the air, signaling for assistance.
Within moments, two medi-wizards arrived, pushing their way through the throng of onlookers. They knelt beside Draco, their faces professional and detached, a stark contrast to the fear and concern etched on the faces of the students surrounding them. They quickly assessed Draco’s injuries, their movements precise and efficient. You watched as they placed him carefully onto a floating stretcher, securing him with enchanted restraints. As they lifted the stretcher, you couldn’t tear your gaze away from Draco’s still form. You followed the medi-wizards as they floated the stretcher through the crowd, your heart a lead weight in your chest.
The whispers of the onlookers followed you, hushed and anxious. You ignored them all. All you could focus on was Draco. That was until out of your peripheral you spotted the man who did this to him. Bryce Cavendish, his face flushed with an adrenaline-fueled high, was grinning triumphantly at the crowd. The cocky smile he was hiding behind his fist made your blood boil. You surged forward, rage blinding you. "You bloody bastard!" Before you could strike, Cedric Diggory, had his hands around your waist, pulling you away from Bryce. "As much as I would love to see you put him in his place, I have a feeling Malfoy needs you right now."
Cedric's words brought you back to reality. You couldn't afford to be distracted by your anger, not when Draco needed you. "Okay," You surrendered pulling yourself out of Cedric's hold. You were never one for conflict, but the way he was smirking cockily, knowing he had succeeded in hurting Draco, made your anger resurface. Before you could even think about it, you were already in front of him, your right arm pulled back, striking him across the face before he could even react. As you heard a sickening crack, when your knuckles met his nose, you felt an unexpected surge of satisfaction. You had never punched anyone in your life, but the feeling of adrenaline coursing through your veins was exhilarating.
"Consider yourself lucky it wasn't an unforgivable curse," You hissed, your voice dripping with venom, "I won't be as nice if there's ever a next time." He stared at you, his eyes wide with shock and disbelief as he clutched his now broken nose in pain. "Oi, Diggory!" He hissed, his voice a mixture of pain and indignation. "Aren't you going to do something?" Cedric, who had been watching the exchange, simply shrugged. "I didn't see anything," He replied casually, his eyes twinkling with amusement. Turing towards you, he gave you a reassuring smile, motioning towards the hospital wing. “Don’t worry, I’ll deal with him, you have my word.” You didn't need to be told twice.
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You were sure your fingers were on the verge of bleeding with how much you were picking at them, the raw skin a testament to your anxiety. But that was the least of your problems considering the love of your life was laying motionless in front of you. The crisp, sterile scent of the Medical Wing filled your nostrils, a constant, unwelcome reminder of the gravity of the situation. The only thing keeping you sane was the steady rise and fall of his chest against the sheets.
You were sure the only reason as to why Madam Pomfrey had let you stay overnight was due to how distraught you looked. Your face, pale and tear-stained, was probably a picture of despair. You'd practically begged her, your voice a desperate croak, to let you stay by his side. The thought of leaving him alone, even for a moment, was unbearable. Your grip on his hand did not falter, no matter how uncomfortable the chair was on your back. The hard, unforgiving wood dug into your spine, but you didn't care.
You weren't leaving his side until those grey eyes you loved so much were staring back at you. Each shallow breath he took, each labored rise and fall of his chest, was a precious lifeline, a fragile thread connecting you to the boy who was everything to you. Time seemed to crawl, each agonizing second stretching into an eternity. "I knew I'd find you in here," Theodore Nott's voice interrupted your thoughts, but your eyes stayed glued to Draco. You barely registered his presence, your mind consumed by the fear that gnawed at your insides.
"Dolcezza," He coaxed, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. You looked up at him, your eyes red-rimmed and swollen, and managed a weak smile. "He hasn't moved all night, Theo. I'm so fucking worried." Hearing the pain in your voice, the raw, unfiltered fear that laced every word, was all it took for Theo to pull you into an embrace. "He's a stubborn bastard, he'll be alright." He held you close, his own body trembling slightly, as if mirroring your own. “While I admire the sentiment, I’d appreciate if got your hands off my girl, Nott.” Draco’s voice, raspy with sleep, cut through the hushed silence of the hospital wing.
You pulled back from Theo, your eyes widening in surprise. Draco was sitting up in bed, his face pale, bruises darkening on his temple, but his eyes sparkling with amusement nonetheless. "Draco," You breathed out, immediately separating yourself from the brunette boy and carefully climbing into the open arm of your boyfriend. Despite your attempts to be mindful of his bruises and broken arm, he pulled you closer. "I'll go tell the other's you're awake," Theo interrupted giving you and Draco a smile. "I'm glad you're okay, you twit." In response Draco merely waved him off, giving you his undivided attention.
You pulled back slightly, your eyes searching his face for any sign of lingering pain. "How do you feel?" You asked, your voice soft with concern. He shrugged, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips, "Sore," He admitted, "But otherwise, I feel surprisingly well." You nodded, feeling the tightness in your throat return as tears gathered at the corners of your eyes. "Don't ever do that to me again." You whispered, shaking your head. "Darling," He coaxed, raising his hand to wipe the tears from your eyes, his thumb gently tracing the path they had left behind. "Don't cry," He murmured, his voice filled with concern. "You know I hate it when you cry."
"You scared me, so much," You whispered, burying your face in his chest, clinging to him as if he might disappear again. He held you close, his arms wrapping around you like a protective shield, his heart beating a steady rhythm against your ear. Proof that he was okay, and alive. "I'm sorry, love," He murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You both laid there for what seemed an eternity, the silence broken only by the soft rhythmic thumping of his heart and the distant murmur of conversation from the hallway.
Draco couldn't seem to let you get you closer to him, even when you both were practically intertwined. You smiled as he pressed a kiss to both your temples, cheeks, purposely skipping your lips as he grabbed your hand and brought it to his face. "Why are your knuckles red?" He questioned, concern etched on his face. “Well,” A small smile made its way onto your face as you recalled what you did. "I might have punched the daylights out of Cavendish." You muttered nonchalantly. Draco's eyes widened in surprise. "You what?" He questioned, wondering if he had her you correctly or if it was the concussion talking.
"He used a Confundus Charm on you," You explained, shrugging your shoulders as if it were no big deal. "And I wasn't going to let it slide." Draco stared at you, a mixture of amusement and disbelief on his face. He burst out laughing, his laughter echoing through the quiet room. "You," He managed to get out between laughs, "You actually punched him." You couldn't help but laugh with him. It felt good, exhilarating even. You had never punched anyone before, but standing up for Draco, protecting him, it felt… right. You looked up to find him already looking at you with nothing but pure adoration.
"Merlin, I love you so fucking much." Before you could react and reciprocate his words, he had grasped the sides of your face before pulling you into an unexpected kiss. This kiss, unlike the one you two shared on the pitch, was different. It was raw, vulnerable. It held so much love and so much fear all at once. It was as if the world around you had faded away, leaving just the two of you in that moment. The intensity of emotions was overwhelming, a silent conversation of hearts beating in sync. Every touch, every breath, every lingering second felt like a promise, a confession, and a plea all rolled into one.
"That's my girl," He praised as you separated for air yet he remained close. Nose to nose. Chest to chest. “My brave and badass girl, I can’t believe you punched someone for little old me.” You couldn’t help but blush at his words, no matter how many times you had heard him say them before. "I love you too," You echoed giving him a chaste kiss despite his intentions to deepen it. "Consider yourself very lucky to have someone like me, Malfoy." You smirked playfully pushing his platinum locks away from his eyes. The ones that were currently looking at you as if you hung the stars. "Always do, darling." He admitted, pulling you into another kiss which stifled your giggle. Lucky indeed.
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