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marypaol · 2 months

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Small Deeds, Small Tea Cups

Draco x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Nothing that I’m informed of :)

Summary: Reader wakes up one morning and Draco decided to make her tea, forming a small kind action he can do every morning.

Note: No use of Y/N, and just fluff because I love it. -Sorry I haven’t posted in a while, I was hanging out with family!

___

The sun’s rays beamed on her skin exposed, and the girl couldn’t help but hum softly in contentment, rolling on her side to feel more warmth. Orange laid beneath her eyelids as she did so, eyelashes fluttering as consciousness slowly came to her. Her arm subconsciously went to her side, searching for the person who routinely slept beside her, hand only coming in contact with wrinkled sheets. Her eyes fluttered open all the way this time, hands coming up to run the sleep out of them as she slowly sat up, stretching arms overhead as her lips open wide in a yawn.

Her body exposed itself to the chilly air as she took off the duvet, feet touching the cold carpet that lay beneath.

She automatically started searching for her love, legs tiredly moving around taking her to her assumed destination that she thought he would be.

She ended up being correct, his broad back to her and the back of his messed up pale hair strands going to and fro in the air. She slowly walked over, hands reaching out to him desperate for his soft skin. He was wearing a t-shirt, so her hands easily made their way underneath it, fingers caressing the skin on his waist.

His body recoiled at the sudden touch but the light kiss to his shoulder gave him the sign it was only her. (She had to stand on her toes to reach of course.)

“You usually sleep in.” He stated plainly instead of saying a proper greeting, eyes fixed outside of the window above the sink, watching as the world woke up for another day. She smiled against his back bone, running her fingers over his lower stomach.

“Well I woke up and you were gone.” She answered simply, going on her toes again to place her chin on top of his shoulder. Her response seemed to silence him for a moment, his eyes fixed on outside still as his teeth gently bit his lip in deep thought.

He eventually cleared his throat softly, tilting his head to lay it on top of hers. The action was small, but it filled a big place in her heart.

He did it only for a moment, and known him he didn’t like showing affection for too long, but the fact that he took time to do so let her know he at least showed some of his love and that right there was better than nothing.

His fingers went in front of him and he scooted over a small tea cup, steaming liquid inside as the bag inside swayed from the action. Her eyes lit up, lips pulling back into a small smile as she knew what it was.

She got out from behind him and placed her fingers in the ceramic cup, picking it up from the plate it was on and to her lips, sipping the warm tea as she tasted a hint of sugar sweet. Her smile got wider, knowing he made it just the way she liked it.

She couldn’t help but notice the anxious look in his eye as he watched her, deep down desperate to know if he made it wrong. She made her smile warmer than it already was, putting the cup down and wrapped her arms around his neck. He inhaled at the boldness of affection, not quite expecting it.

“It’s made perfectly, Draco. Thank you.” She assured quietly, stroking the hairs on the back of his neck. He didn’t say anything, eyes instead searching hers for any sign of a lie, but didn’t end up finding any. She was being one hundred percent sincere, proving it with just a simple look.

He nodded because he didn’t know how to respond, not used to being recognized for a kind action for once. He’s never done them, that’s for a fact, and when he met a lover he wanted nothing more than to not be a snob, although that’s what he was raised as and sometimes he couldn’t help but show that side of him, but therefore that’s what showed her she was trying.

And she loved him for that.

He was trying.

For her.

The baby step effort was there and she couldn’t be more grateful for the hard work he’s done; it’s hard changing yourself from what you’ve grown up to be and be generous, especially for Draco.

__________

So Draco from then on tried to provide a cup of tea every morning to his love, for by then he wasn’t hesitant or anxious to do it; since before the nervous feeling of her reaction being negative was stirring in his stomach.

It was all for the little smile that would stretch on her lips when she entered the kitchen, her pink lips he loved to kiss every so often but wouldn’t admit it. (For sometimes he wasn’t just hesitant to show kind actions, but also hesitant to express his feelings.)

But the sparkle in her eye was also a reason he loved to do it. She would make eye contact with him and so many thanks were displayed in her eyes he knew she didn’t have to say it, but she always did, muttering “thank you, loves,” and lightly kissing his cheek before sitting on the counter- even though he was bothered by that since she was the one who liked to clean out of the two of them- and sipped contently while watching him read the Daily Prophet.

Sometimes he would make breakfast, even though he didn’t know much. (Despite his hesitation to express his feelings, he once told her he learned a few things from watching the house elf that once roamed his childhood home.)

He couldn’t help it, he was a curious kid, but at one point and age in his life he couldn’t be curious anymore because of his father’s unspoken orders.

__________

So she found herself facing yet another morning, orange once again beneath her eyelids and soft sheets warmed from the sun’s rays.

She got up, bare legs being exposed to the cold as his oversized Quidditch t-shirt went down to her thighs.

She traveled downstairs, searching for her love and was met with an empty kitchen, the absence of her lover chilling to the space. He brought a warmth the house only he could provide and not seeing him there made her cold inside.

Her eyebrows furrowed, confusion filling her as she searched for him, eyes scanning areas as she passed. It was then that she spotted a soft light coming from his office, her feet lightly walking across the hallway to see him.

She saw him, back to her in the chair he was sitting in as his pale hands worked through papers, sorting them into stacks that she didn’t understand but to his mind it made all the sense.

She didn’t want to startle him, despite the desire to wrap her arms around his tense shoulders and rub the stress away. So instead she brought her knuckles to the doorway, softly knocking so he knew she was there.

His head turned and his eyes met hers, and while doing so she didn’t fail to notice the soft grin pulling at the corners of his lips.

She slowly walked to him and preformed her previous desire, wrapping her arms around his shoulders as he turned to face her, his hands landing on her hips.

He was feeling a little confident that morning and she knew so as his fingers sneaked underneath the shirt, stroking the skin there as she squealed softly, squirming in his hold.

“You weren’t in the kitchen, loves.” She stated once the soft giggles settled down, stroking his shoulders as he turned back around, hands fiddling with the papers once again.

His head bent down as she heard a soft sigh coming from him. He looked over his shoulder so he could see her in his peripheral.

“Sorry,” he blurted. “I forgot to heat water.”

She chuckled a little. “It’s okay, loves,”

“I just was confused when I didn’t see you in the kitchen; you’re normally there in the morning, that’s all.”

He nodded, sighing once again but it was because her fingers stared softly massaging his shoulders, rubbing the tenseness away with such a simple touch.

“Yeah I had to do some paper work.” He said, letting her once again think about what he said. He would often reply with simple answers, ones that left her with some questions but not many, for most of the time they left her wondering what he meant based on the various tone of voice he used.

She liked that about him; whatever came from his lips left her wanting more.

“I could make us both tea, if you’d like.” She softly offered, fingers coming to a pause on his shoulders because of her hesitation of asking the question. His head laid back, softly landing on her stomach and her fingers subconsciously went to his hair, stroking the strands as they easily flowed through her hands. The pale mob of hair was always so soft, so delicately taken care of. He licked his lips, hands coming to to her elbows to keep her arms from moving away, not wanting the moment to end just yet.

“That could be quite lovely.” He said boldly, fingers massaging her elbows. She smiled, lips coming down to kiss his head and keeping them there for a couple seconds.

“Sugar?”

He paused as he thought. “Maybe a little bit, loves.”

-Apology for any errors!

Love you all and thanks for reading! 📖

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schlindweinmagdalen · 2 days

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#fluffy #draco malfoy #inflated #im numb #chubby #gang #tattoed #dollfashion #kpop smut

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itsphantasmagoria · 1 year

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FIRST POST DANCE

Here's some drarry to get things going I guess

#harry potter #draco malfoy #drarry #drarry art #90s nostalgia #fluffy #phantasmagoria art #itsphantasmagoria

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phoebe-delia · 5 months

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Stained

For @drarrymicrofic prompt: stained.

Draco hears his heartbeat in his ears but forces himself to stay still.

His breath hitches as Harry's warm, calloused hand cups his cheek, the thumb moving gently over bright red lips that part at the touch. Draco knows Harry must've confirmed the not-so-subtle suspicions that he wears lipstick; he wonders if Harry's fingertip is stained with it, now.

"Beautiful," Harry whispers, eyes still focused on Draco's mouth. "Just beautiful."

#drarry #harry potter #draco malfoy #i went fluffy with this one #which is NOT what I originally planned to do #but yk fuck it #drarry fic #drarry fanfic #harry and draco #draco and harry #draco x harry #hpdm #drarry fanfiction

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toxicgirlie · 7 months

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In the Shadow of Unyielding Bonds

Summary: Pansy tries to win Draco's heart, but his unwavering loyalty to Y/N, the Slytherin Princess, prevails. Pansy's schemes lead to confrontation, affirming Y/N's position as Slytherin's unyielding queen.

warnings: none

Draco Malfoy x reader

This is my first attempt of writing, please go easy on me everyone!

The Slytherin common room was a cozy sanctuary, its emerald and silver decor bathed in the soft glow of the fire crackling in the hearth. Y/N, the Slytherin Princess, sat in her favorite armchair, surrounded by her loyal friends—Draco, Blaise, Theodore, and even a few others from their house. It was a rare moment of camaraderie and laughter, showcasing the genuine affection they all held for Y/N.

Blaise, with his characteristic charm, raised his glass of butterbeer and proposed a toast. "To Y/N, our fearless leader and the true queen of Slytherin!"

Theodore, ever the quiet and observant one, chimed in, "And to Draco, our unexpected protector and the most unlikely hero."

The group erupted in laughter, clinking their glasses together. Y/N couldn't help but smile at the playful banter, feeling grateful for her friends' unwavering support.

Draco, who was sitting beside Y/N, leaned in closer and whispered in her ear, "You know they're right. You are a queen."

Y/N rolled her eyes, but there was warmth in her gaze as she looked at him. "Only because I have you by my side, Draco."

The others, sensing the moment, shared knowing smiles. They had all witnessed the transformation of Draco Malfoy since Y/N had entered his life. He had become less arrogant and more genuine, his loyalty and admiration for Y/N shining through.

However, as the group continued to bask in their camaraderie, Pansy Parkinson, who had been watching from a distance, couldn't hide her bitterness any longer. She sauntered over, a venomous smile on her face.

"Oh, how touching," Pansy sneered. "Y/N, the center of attention as always. Draco, her loyal lapdog. What a charming pair."

The Slytherin gang exchanged glances, their annoyance with Pansy evident. Blaise, never one to hold back, spoke up. "Pansy, you're welcome to join in the celebration if you can manage to be civil."

Pansy ignored Blaise's words, her focus solely on Y/N and Draco. "Tell me, Y/N, what's your secret? How did you manage to make Draco so smitten with you? I thought he had higher standards."

The atmosphere grew tense, and Theodore, usually quiet, couldn't stay silent any longer. "Pansy, your jealousy is showing. Y/N and Draco have a genuine bond, something you seem unable to understand."

Draco, who had remained composed until now, couldn't hold back his frustration any longer. "Pansy, your bitterness is unbecoming. Y/N is my friend, and our relationship is based on trust and respect, something you clearly lack."

Y/N, the unyielding queen of Slytherin, rose from her chair, her icy gaze fixed on Pansy. "Pansy, envy won't get you far in life. If you want people to respect you, try earning it rather than scheming for it."

The room fell silent, the tension thick in the air. Pansy, realizing she had been rebuked by not only Y/N but also her friends, finally retreated with a scowl. Her bitterness may have momentarily cast a shadow, but the unbreakable bonds of friendship and loyalty within the Slytherin gang only grew stronger in the face of her jealousy.

The next few days.

The halls of Hogwarts were abuzz with whispers and rumors as Pansy Parkinson, the ambitious and determined Slytherin, hatched a plan to pull Draco Malfoy away from Y/N, the Slytherin Princess. Pansy was determined to win Draco's affection, even if it meant challenging the unbreakable bond that seemed to tie him to Y/N.

Draco's reputation preceded him. He was known for his aloof and often arrogant demeanor, his silver-blond hair shining with an air of superiority. He looked down upon most of his fellow students, especially those from different houses. But when it came to Y/N, everything changed.

With Y/N, Draco displayed a stark contrast. He became less overtly hostile, though he was far from polite. It was evident to anyone who cared to look that he had a certain level of respect and admiration for Y/N that he rarely showed to others.

One sunny afternoon, Pansy approached Draco with a proposal, her voice laced with feigned excitement. "Draco, I heard about this upcoming potion-making competition," she began. "I thought we could make an excellent team. What do you say?"

Draco, ever the pragmatist, considered her proposal for a moment. "Fine," he replied curtly. "But only because I want to win."

Despite her initial setback, Pansy remained determined. She began to strategically insert herself into Draco's life, hoping to win him over through shared interests and activities. She joined him and his friends, Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott, in Quidditch matches, even though she had little interest in the sport. She offered to help him with his Potions homework, hoping to impress him with her knowledge.

But no matter what she did, Draco's eyes continued to light up whenever Y/N entered a room, and his attentiveness to her remained unparalleled. Pansy watched with growing frustration as Draco and Y/N shared inside jokes and moments of laughter, their bond growing stronger with each passing day.

One evening, in the common room, Pansy decided to make her move. She saw Draco and Y/N engrossed in a conversation by the fireplace, their heads close together. Pansy approached them with a coy smile.

"Draco," she purred, "I was thinking, maybe we could go for a walk by the lake tomorrow? Just the two of us."

Y/N's eyes, previously cold and distant, flickered with a dangerous glint. She looked at Pansy with an icy stare. "Is that so, Pansy? Planning to steal my company?"

Pansy faltered, her confidence wavering in the face of Y/N's chilling demeanor. "I just thought…"

Draco interrupted, his voice sharp and filled with a protective edge that he rarely displayed. "Y/N, there's no need to entertain Pansy's ideas. We've got other plans."

Y/N turned her gaze to Draco, her expression softening ever so slightly. "You're right, Draco. We do have plans." She then turned back to Pansy, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "I hope you find someone else to take a walk with, Pansy."

Pansy, defeated and humiliated, retreated, realizing that she had severely underestimated Y/N's determination and resolve. Y/N was no pushover; she was a true Slytherin queen, and her cold and savage demeanor made it clear that she would not tolerate any interference.

As the school year continued, Pansy's desperation grew. She became more ruthless in her attempts to win Draco's affections, even resorting to spreading rumors about Y/N to tarnish her reputation. But it seemed that no matter what she did, Draco's loyalty to Y/N remained unwavering.

One sunny afternoon, on the Quidditch pitch, Pansy decided to take matters into her own hands. She discreetly enchanted Y/N's broomstick, hoping to sabotage her during the practice session.

But as Y/N took off into the sky, her broomstick suddenly malfunctioned, sending her into a dangerous spiral. Draco, who had been watching from the sidelines, immediately sprang into action, using a spell to safely guide Y/N back to the ground.

Pansy watched in dismay as Draco rushed to Y/N's side, concern etched on his face. It was evident that his protectiveness for her knew no bounds.

Draco's voice was filled with anger as he confronted Pansy, who was feigning innocence. "What do you think you're doing, Pansy?"

Pansy tried to come up with a convincing excuse, but her desperation was clear. Draco's loyalty to Y/N was unbreakable, and he wasn't about to let anyone harm her, especially not someone who had shown such malicious intent.

As Draco's anger flared, Y/N stepped forward, her eyes locked onto Pansy with an intense and unyielding gaze. Her voice was icy, and her words cut through the tension like a sharpened blade. "Pansy, you've pushed your luck too far. Your attempts to undermine me and hurt Draco are unacceptable."

Pansy's own anger flared, and she stepped towards Y/N, their faces inches apart. "And what are you going to do about it, Y/N?"

For a moment, it seemed like the confrontation would escalate to a physical fight, as tensions reached their breaking point. But before it could come to blows, Draco stepped in, his face twisted in anger.

"What in Merlin's name do you think you are doing, Parkinson?" Draco's voice was sharp and commanding as he intervened, standing between Y/N and Pansy, his protective instincts in full force.

Y/N and Pansy backed away from each other, their gazes never leaving Draco. It was a tense moment, with emotions running high.

Draco's attention was fixed on Y/N as he spoke, his voice laced with fury. "I won't tolerate this kind of behavior in my presence, Pansy. Leave, now."

Pansy, realizing she had lost control of the situation, glared at Y/N one final time before storming out of there.

Draco turned to Y/N, his anger softening into concern as he touched her arm gently. "Are you alright, Y/N?"

Y/N nodded, her composure regained. "I'm fine, Draco. Thank you for stepping in."

Draco's protectiveness for Y/N was unwavering, and in that moment, it was clear to everyone that his loyalty belonged to her alone.

As the days turned into weeks and then months, the stark contrast in Draco's treatment of Y/N versus everyone else left no room for doubt. Their bond was unbreakable, and Pansy had learned a bitter lesson about the limits of ambition and the unyielding strength of genuine affection.

And amidst it all, Y/N stood tall as the unyielding queen of Slytherin, her icy demeanor masking the fierce love and loyalty she inspired in those who were fortunate enough to be counted among her inner circle.

#draco malfoy x reader #harry potter masterlist #draco malfoy masterlist #draco malfoy fluffy

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onepawproductions · 2 months

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Now that I've got The Muddy Princess finished recording, I thought I'd make a snazzy lil' Book Cover, and remaster the cover art I'd previously made.

Then, it turns out that oh wow but you can actually get a single copy Print on Demand of soft and hardcover books.

ENGAGE DESIGN-EN-ING MODE, MAXIMUM POWER...!

So I spent my Saturday making a Dust Jacket cover for The Muddy Princess! Woot! Or is it Sunday? WHAT DAY IS IT??

I like it~! Made with Canva, Sketchbook Pro for Tablet, A1111, and SDXL 1.0. Mascot Muse Seal of Audiobook Approval, included! ❤️

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starlitsilvereyes · 10 months

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Older Drarry makes me so emo because neither of them probably thought they’d live past seventeen. Hell, even after the war, Harry couldn’t shake off the feeling of death looming over him, like nothing came out of life more than death and death and death because it was all he had ever known of.

And after nearly three years in Azkaban, the stench of death and the trace of lost souls lingered with Draco, accompanying him on his daily walks through the Manor's withering rose gardens.

However, the older versions of Harry and Draco get to spend their days in Spain basking in the sun, and their wrinkled skin is covered with more than just scars. On Harry's hands, freckles sprawled like constellations, and a dragon tattoo roars to life on Draco's torso.

Draco's hair is more silver than blond, whereas Harry's hair and beard are all salt and pepper. Nightmares are long-forgotten memories replaced by dreams of having five seven children coming to fruition. They were stay-at-home dads for a while (which is perhaps the only time Harry has ever felt grateful rather than embarrassed about his astounding fortune). Until the children have grown up and moved on with their lives.

Now, Draco is a poet and Harry is an artist, both under pseudonyms. Without the rest of the world knowing, they are each other's muse. They have died and lived for each other in secret and their love is the most sacred thing they have ever held in the palm of their hands.

Harry no longer regrets coming back from the dead and Draco no longer resents himself for spending all those years hating Harry rather than loving him.

Draco, however, still scolds Harry for making his tea not scalding enough, to which Harry only rolls his eyes at. Harry still cuts his sandwiches into triangles because it makes ‘more bread’, which doesn’t make sense to Draco and probably never will.

Older Draco and Harry get to live the life they deserve and so much more. They get to watch a hundred more sunrises and a thousand more sunsets and the stars in the sky have woven into newer and more complex constellations just for them.

The road to all is well was a long one, but neither Draco nor Harry would change a thing.

#luci's thoughts #drarry headcanon #draco x harry #harry potter x draco malfoy #harry potter headcanon #draco malfoy headcanon #older drarry #cw: mentions of death #nightmares #poet draco #artist harry #i don't think i have enough life experience to write a fully fleshed out fic of older drarry so #headcanon it is!#if anyone has fic recs of fluffy older drarry please send them my way!

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extremewritersblock · 1 year

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A drabble in which Hermione has to babysit a drunk Draco

“I like you, Granger.”

“You’re drunk, Malfoy.”

“Am not,” he said. He had his head propped up on one hand, using the other to finish off the remnants of his - 9th - drink.

After he’d double and triple checked that the inside of his mug held no more alcohol, he discarded it on the bar top - it clattered with a *thud *- and moved on to his next drunken thought.

“Why do people say they don’t like your hair?” *hiccup*

“I wasn’t aware that my hair was a popular topic amongst your friends, but thanks for letting me know.” She self consciously pulled at a stray piece resting on the nape of her neck.

“Well, they’re wrong, I like your hair.” *hiccup*

Before Hermione could - thank him? - Malfoy was out of his seat and stumbling confidently towards a couple of girls a few chairs down.

“Hey, ‘scuse me. Hi, my names Draco. Don’t you like her hair? It has just the right amount of curly, don’t you think?” He was gesturing to Hermione theatrically, like she was the grand prize at the end of a game show.

Hermione, unsure whether it was Malfoy or the girls who needed rescuing from the situation unfolding in front of her, raced up behind him, gripped either side of his shoulders and attempted to move him away.

“Excuse my friend, he’s sloshed,” she said to the girls, who were both doing their best to hide the fit of giggles brought on by Malfoy's... drunkenness.

“Actually I’m her boyfriend,” he said, then his voice changed to a whisper, “but she doesn’t know that yet” - *hiccup* - “so shhhhh.” He placed a finger to his lips to demonstrate how they should stay quiet.

“Malfoy, you are not my boyfriend.” She’d finally succeeded at steering him back to their spot at the bar. He stumbled back onto his barstool. “You have to stop telling people that, or they’ll start to think its true.”

She looked at him expectantly, waiting for an acknowledgement that he’d hear her.

He was looking back at her, dreamily.

“Well?” she asked, trying to coax an agreement from him.

“I wanna kiss you,” he said, but it came out more like ‘iwanuhkishoe’.

Hermione sighed.

He was reaching for his drink that he’d already finished off when -

“Draco that’s not your drink! That’s hand sanitizer, you absolute donut.”

“Oooh donuts. They sound delightful right now, don’t they?” he said, then became distracted by a bartender who was passing by them. She was holding a bottle of liquor topped with a sparkler, so tiny flames were dancing in the air.

The table who had ordered the bottle broke out into a tipsy rendition of the “Happy Birthday” song. Draco happily clapped along.

When it stopped, he quickly turned to Hermione, his face suddenly distraught.

“You know what I just thought about?” he asked. He wore a slight pout.

“What’s that, Malfoy?” She was done trying to guess what nonsense would come out of his mouth next.

“Dragons”

Yup, she would’ve never guessed that.

“What about Dragons?”

“Well Dragons have birthdays, right?”

He posed a good question. Her analytical tendencies wanted to argue that, while yes, dragons are born and thus have birthdays, they don’t have the intelligence to celebrate their birthdays like humans do, so it could be a subjective question. However, to her very drunk acquaintance, she just said:

“Yes - I assume so...”

“Well, dragons can’t - they’ll never be able to blow out their own birthday candles. How *hiccup* sad.”

She facepalmed.

“You know, it’s been a fun date,” he said

“We’re not on a date. Your friends left you and I couldn’t, in good conscience, leave you by yourself in your.. current state.”

“Oh. Well d’you wanna go date me sometime?”

“Let’s discuss this when you sober up.”

“Wrong answer. Ten points from Gryffindor.”

“Well Malfoy, this has been a fun.. whatever this was.. but I think it’s time to get you home.”

After a few minutes of slurred protest, and one last swipe at the bottle of hand sanitizer, Draco let Hermione Apparate them back to his apartment.

They arrived with a very clumsy jolt. Somehow, both of them managed to stay on their feet.

“Ooh.. head rush,” Malfoy said.

Luckily, he’d appeared right next to his bed, and decided to forgo the entirety of his night time routine and just fall into the blankets.

Unluckily, he’d forgotten he was still attached to Hermione’s arm, and brought her right down with him. She fell with an, “OOOF.”

She let herself lie there for a few seconds, a little hopeful that Malfoy would just go to sleep so that she could escape to her own apartment, but when she finally decided to remove her arm from his, she felt his hand grasp hers.

“Please don’t go,” he said. His eyes, though open, drooped sleepily.

“You won’t sleep well if I stay with you.” She adjusted the blankets around him.

Why did a part of her actually want to stay? Did she expect him to remember any of this in the morning?

She told herself it was her own morality that made her consider accepting his request, and that she’d feel horrible if she left him alone while he was this intoxicated.

As if he was reading her mind -

“Please stay,” he said again, though his voice was growing quieter as sleep threatened to take him.

And so, she stayed.

#maybe I wrote this while drinking wine #maybe I didn't #you'll never know #muahahaha #also starting now the only acceptable nickname for Draco is 'absolute donut'#dhr drabble #dhr drabbles #hp #harry potter #draco x hermione #dramione #hermione x draco #Draco Malfoy #Hermione Granger #dramione drabbles #Draco Malfoy x Hermione granger #dramione prompts #fluffy draco #drunk draco

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ladderofyears · 1 year

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Sweet and sour.

The first Every Flavour Bean is sour, vinegar-flavoured, and Harry winces. “Are you implying something?” he asks.

“Not at all,” Draco answers, giving Harry a pink, candyfloss-flavoured bean. “You’re the sweetest chap that I know.”

Laughing at his boyfriend’s joke, Harry wolfs the sweet. “Now I’ll taste delicious,” he grins.

Fifty words.

For @microficmay

#drarry #harry x draco #boys in love #fifty words #draco malfoy #harry potter #microficmay2023 #ladderofyears microfic #drarry fic #every flavour beans #sweet and fluffy

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jomiddlemarch · 2 months

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While You Were Sleeping

Epilogue

“We’re never going to sleep again. Ever,” Hermione said from her end of the circuit around the kitchen, before Draco could head into the conservatory detour that Neville had suggested might at least help with their mental health, if it did nothing to aid in the ultimate goal of the twins sleeping for more than an hour at a time. She’d had to raise her voice a little, so Draco could hear her over the babies’ crying, but she couldn’t get too loud or strident, because then the crying would become howling on Rose’s part and a glass-shattering shriek on Scorpius’s. Any significant pausing in walking yielded the same response.

“If you agreed, we could get a House—” Draco began. Again. His grey joggers were low around his hips, his feet bare, a ratty tee-shirt that couldn’t be made any rattier by regurgitated milk thrown on hastily when she’d called him from the nursery.

“Don’t start the ‘House-elves make perfectly fine nannies, see how I turned out argument.’ You know how I feel about it, even if we paid an exorbitant amount, and though I love you dearly, I wouldn’t say the nannying you received did you any favors at Hogwarts. You were a preening little prat for the first few years, when there was some pretense we were children and not pawns,” Hermione replied. “I also don’t want to hear about Black family magicks that would do the trick, either from you or your mother.”

“We’re not following Molly Weasley’s advice and using gin,” Draco said, patting Scorpius on the back in a rhythm that seemed to soothe their son. Or it didn’t and they were deluding themselves. Sleep deprivation could do that to a person, Hermione recalled, from a time when she had done research in a library, wearing a clean jersey and drinking a cup of tea hot from the pot, not stewed and cold and generally disgusting but charmed not to grow Wizarding penicillin on the surface.

“She might have meant we should drink the gin, not that we’d dose the babies, now that I think about it. It’s all fuzzy when I look back,” Hermione said.

“I hate gin,” Draco said. “Simply loathe the stuff.”

“I know. I remember that about you. From a time when we had drinks on a trolley in the sitting room or went to the pub,” Hermione said. He liked wine, preferably red and full-bodied, though he’d get a pint of Guinness if they went out with friends. He’d rather drink Butterbeer than a G&T and forget about a martini, dirty or otherwise. Her craving for cocktail onions had been rather a sore point during her pregnancy, though he’d fetched them and learned not to turn up his nose at her when she ate a jar’s worth in a sitting.

“What’s a pub?” Draco said wryly.

Scorpius squawked. If his Patronus wasn’t some avian species, Hermione would eat her hat. She’d have to fit her traditional pointed witch’s hat first, but then she’d eat it. Maybe she’d chase it with a Gibson.

“Shh, darling boy, it’s all right, Papa’s got you,” Draco murmured, brushing his lips against Scorpius’ wispy blond curls.

Despite the screaming and the exhaustion and the near-constant desire to hex her earlier overly confident and entirely wrong self, the one who’d said things like, twins won’t be so terribly difficult and maybe it’s more efficient to have them together, the babies can keep each other company and they won’t be lonely when they went off to Hogwarts, really, it was a blessing to have twins first, Hermione couldn’t help melting a little whenever she heard Draco talking to their babies, especially when he referred to himself as Papa. She opened her mouth to say something fond and tender, but Scorpius yelped and gurgled and Draco sighed.

“Another geyser. Perhaps we should get those disposable cloths Potter was on about, since we can’t risk Vanishing the spit-up,” he said. Spells around magical infants could be dicey and with a mother as powerful as Hermione, they’d had to play it extra safe.

“He’ll be hungry now,” Hermione said, not even bothering to answer the remark about the burp cloths. Once, her mind had been filled with complex runic equations and the Zaragosta variations on the Berenicean charm progression. Now, she was too tired to even spend one neuron’s worth of attention on the question of burp cloths.

“Time to trade,” Draco said.

Hermione walked over to the rocking chair, settling Rose on her lap for a moment. The novelty of the perspective change would buy about 90 seconds of relative quiet. Draco came over, put Scorpius into the crook of Hermione’s arm and scooped up Rose. His exceptional Quidditch skills were being put to this exclusive use but Hermione suspected both the babies would be avid players, Rose the more likely Seeker. She fiddled a bit with her top and got Scorpius latched on, stroking his plump cheek very lightly so he wouldn’t get distracted and fall off, screaming with frustration. Nursing, he looked very serious, like Draco drafting a response to the Chinese delegation.

“Now, then, ma chére Mademoiselle Rose, let’s take a turn about the room and let Mummy take care of Scorpius,” Draco said. Rose made a series of noises which weren’t quite cries and could possibly be a language no adult was fluent in.

“Molly said it won’t always be this way,” Hermione offered. Scorpius was growing dozy against her breast, still nursing but with less vigor. He’d fall asleep this way but they’d probably only get an hour of rest from him and Rose’s hazel eyes were alert, peering over Draco’s shoulder.

“She would know. Circe’s garters, seven of them. It doesn’t bear contemplating,” Draco said. “My mother says we ought to be grateful, two healthy babies, no sign either will be a Squib, and I am. I am grateful and I love them—”

“You’d just like to get a full night’s sleep,” Hermione said. The first week, the babies had been drowsy and they’d had to wake them to nurse. It had been the right thing to do and Hermione still couldn’t believe they’d done it. Rose had gone nearly five hours when she was four days old and Hermione had faffed about writing thank-you cards for the new baby gifts and peering into the cradle to make sure Rose was breathing when she could have followed directions and slept when the baby slept, letting Draco be the one on duty to make sure the twins were awakened to feed.

“I’d take four hours,” Draco said.

“Three would do me,” Hermione yawned. Draco kept walking, Rose on his shoulder, and Hermione drifted for a bit, lost somewhere between dream and memory.

“You thought it would all go away when we came home. That it wasn’t real,” she said.

“Well, I was a fool and also besotted with you and hadn’t had a good night’s sleep for about ten days,” he said. “Also, we were faking being married. I was your fake-husband.”

“This is real,” she said. She shifted Scorpius to her shoulder, patting his back until he burped, praying he’d stay asleep through it. Draco smiled, too wise to risk laughter.

“It’s as real as it gets, love,” he said. Rose grizzled a bit but lowered her head, her silky dark curls shining against his fair skin, the faint silver stubble of his five-o’clock-now-three-am-shadow. He was tall and fit and terribly kind, terribly clever; he’d do anything for the three of them and he’d gotten her all those jars of pickled pearl onions and had snogged her silly when she had Gibson-breath. He had turned out well after all…

“I might have been overly rigid about the House-Elf proposal,” she said. “A few nights can’t do any harm and we’ll make sure they have exceptional benefits, a pension. The villa in Majorca—”

And that was how Pithy came to be the Granger-Black-Malfoy night nanny, the first House-elf with her own Gringotts vault, and the reason Hugo was born.

Well, a reason. There was a responsible adult creature in the household and there was that villa in Majorca.

#dramione #fluffy #epilogue what epilogue #hermione x draco #hermione POV #hats off to all parents of multiples #babyfic x 2 #Hermione's principles re: House-elves are SHAKEN #scorpius malfoy #rose granger #references to alcohol #tw: pregnancy #fake married to as real as it gets

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drarrily-we-row-along · 2 years

Text

Flufftober 3: Thick as Thieves

Harry liked to think that he wasn't a jealous person. He liked to believe that he was level headed, that he wasn't suspicious, and that he had reasonable boundaries when it came to his boyfriend.

Unfortunately, this was patently untrue.

His mind healer would tell him that his possessive streak and jealous nature were a result of trauma. Not having his needs met as a child, not having enough of anything, manifested in his desire to keep his things to himself.

And Draco was a person, not a thing. A person whom he loved and respected, a person who he knew had bodily autonomy, which made it all the harder for him to wrap his brain around his possessiveness.

Perhaps Harry could have gone right on believing that he wasn't a jealous person, if not for the fact that Ron and Draco had started hanging out constantly, always whispering to each other.

When Harry had owled to invite Draco to lunch this afternoon, he received a short apology note back and Draco let him know that he already had plans with Ron.

In a fit of pique, Harry flooed to the Ministry and marched himself to Hermione's office for lunch. Stomping inside of her office, he set out the containers of Chicken Tikka Masala, jasmine rice, na'an, samosas, and Dal soup that he'd started preparing last night and finished this morning.

Hermione raised an eyebrow at the food, "not that I'm complaining, but what's this all about?"

"Well," Harry said as he opened the containers, "I made it for lunch with Draco but your husband is eating lunch with him so someone had to eat it."

She laughed, "It's fairly normal for them to eat together, you know," she said. "They've been Auror partners for six years."

"I know," he groaned, biting into a samosa with great satisfaction, "you're right. But I just," he shrugged miserably. "They see each other all day and I only get to see him occasionally in the evenings and when he deigns to have lunch with me."

"I think it's more than occasionally," she said, holding back an eye roll that Harry could still hear in her voice.

He huffed, "Fine," he conceded. "But he still spends all day with him."

She hummed, "Well, I'm glad for the opportunity to have lunch with you. I always enjoy your cooking."

"Good," he grumbled, "Tell Draco how good it was so he realizes what he's missing."

Hermione reached across the desk and covered Harry's hand with her own, "He loves you."

"I love him too," Harry sighed.

-------------------

Harry decided that he was going to talk to Draco that evening. It seemed only fair to have a conversation with him about what was bothering him.

So when the invitation for dinner arrived, Harry wrote back right away, agreeing.

After knocking, he waited nervously on the doorstep, tapping his fingers against his thigh. And when the door opened he almost forgot what he'd wanted to say. Draco was standing illuminated by the light of his entryway, feet bare, wearing Harry's favorite cardigan.

"Hi," he said.

"Hi yourself," Draco replied, smiling brightly at him, "come in," he added, stealing a quick kiss as Harry walked past.

Harry wandered into the living room, "Listen, before we eat, could we talk?" he asked.

"Sure," he said amiably. "I had something I wanted to ask, too," he added. "Can I go first?"

And Harry wanted to say no, wanted to just blurt and tell him that it was burning him up that he was spending so much of their free time with Ron, but he took a deep breath and nodded. "Yeah," he said. "Of course."

Draco grinned at him, then sat down on the footstool in front of Harry, "Harry," he said.

"Yeah?" he asked, heart beating just a little bit harder in his chest.

"We've been together for almost two years now-"

"Are you breaking up with me?" he asked, heart roaring in his ears, breath coming a little too short. "I can change-"

"Harry," Draco said, laying a hand on Harry's, "of course not. Just," he shook his head, "let me finish."

He nodded and waited, fidgeting a bit.

"We've been together for almost two years now, and I have been in love with you for far longer. You are the kindest, most genuine person I know. You make my life better, you make me better and I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you," he continued, pulling a small box out of his pocket and dropping to his knees on the floor. "Would you marry me?" he asked, opening the box and showing Harry a gold ring with little diamonds all around.

"What?" he whispered, eyes filling with tears, "What? I thought you were getting sick of me. I thought you were tired of spending time with me-"

"No," Draco said, brow furrowing. "Why-"

Harry wiped at his eyes, "You've been spending so much time with Ron lately-"

"Because he was helping me plan this," he said.

"Plan what?"

Draco laughed, "Say yes and I'll show you."

"Yes," he said, "Circe, Draco, of course. Yes."

And as if he'd said a spell, people started pouring into the room, all of their friends and family ready to congratulate them.

Harry kissed him, accepting the ring and sniffling as he tried to pull himself together.

"I'm sorry," Draco murmured through all of the cheering a ruckus. "I love you. I didn't mean-"

"It doesn't matter," he said, kissing Draco again. "I love you, I'm sorry I was jealous."

"I won't keep you in the dark anymore," he said. "I won't keep secrets."

And Harry's eyes welled up with tears once more. They spilled down his cheeks and he nodded, grateful for Draco's love and understanding.

"We've people to greet," Draco commented, nodding toward the room.

"Yes," he agreed. "Stay with me?"

"Always," Draco murmured, sliding his fingers through Harry's as they started around the room. "Always."

---------------------

Read my other Flufftober ficlets

#soft #fluff #proposal #love #drarry #flufftober #i don't think i'll ever get sick of writing fluffy nonsense about these two #ron is a good friend #hermione is too #auror draco malfoy #partners ron and draco-it's my jam

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strawberryscorp · 1 year

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scorpius and albus’s relationship is quick forehead kisses as they rush to work. its facetiming with no intention of talking, just silently enjoying eachothers presence. they are good morning and good night texts, theyre soft kissed peppered all over the others face, and theyre intricately interlocked fingers. and theyre whispered reminders that “i’m here for you.”

#they #i just think theyre neat #scorbus #scorpius malfoy #albus severus potter #harry potter and the cursed child #there is no point to this post i just like fluffy scorbus

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rewritingcanon · 9 months

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Scorpius is probably forever banned from hair gel lol.

why is he getting banned did i miss somethingggg 😭 he seems the type to steal dracos hair gel and do weird squiggly patterns with his blonde ass leg hair tho

#i honestly imagine scorpius with his hair fluffy #hc that the entire malfoy clan has actually got floofy hair #draco would be the one to excessively gel his hair back #lucius was the one to straighten the shit out of it when it got longer #harry potter #hp #hpcc #cursed child #scorpius malfoy #draco malfoy #lucius malfoy #asks #hp next gen #anon #rewriting #i love getting anons 🫶#literally the best part abt tumblr

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kaira-diaries · 4 months

Text

Loyalties

Pairing: f!character x Draco

Warnings: subtle implication of sexual behavior and fluff

Comments: this one a little shorter than usual but with some fluff, slay enjoy!!

•••••

Seated alone in the tranquil courtyard, I nestled onto the softness of my knitted lilac blanket. The residual warmth of the recently departed sun lingered, casting a magical hue across the darkening sky, where stars and planets emerged like celestial jewels. On that Friday night, Hogwarts pulsed with the vibrant energy of students immersed in the excitement of various parties. However, the allure of the festivities held little appeal for me.

My mind lingered on the whereabouts of Draco. Speculating that he was likely in the company of his Slytherin comrades, immersed in the vibrant glow of the common room lights, I imagined a scene of intoxication and revelry. Rather than challenging or questioning his choice to partake in the revelry, I allowed a sense of understanding to wash over me. The struggles Draco faced this year, particularly with his father's arrest, cast a shadow over his experiences.

My quietude was interrupted by the unmistakable crunch of leaves, a sound that cut through the stillness of the night. Instantly, my senses heightened, and I looked up from the pages of my book. The wandlight cast a glow around me, revealing the immediate vicinity of the courtyard.

Lowering my wand, I abandoned evasive measures as my gaze focused on the source of the sound. The courtyard, once a canvas of quiet reflection, now held an unexpected presence with the appearance of white hair and gray eyes. Taking a deep breath, I addressed Draco, my voice carrying a hint of both relief and lingering tension. "You scared me," I admitted, the words breaking the stillness of the courtyard.

A feline smirk adorned Draco's face, sending a ripple of fluttering sensations through my insides. As he approached with a casual demeanor, hands tucked into his coat pockets, a sense of both familiarity and intrigue hung in the air. "I can't seem to stop, can I?" he remarked, the smirk lingering in his tone.

Breaking his lingering gaze, I found refuge in fiddling with a loose thread in the lilac blanket beneath my hands. "No," I murmured softly, with a playful smile. Draco sat down before me, a gentle touch lifting my chin to meet his piercing gray eyes. The blanket cradling the shared moment as he said, “Why is it I always find you out here?" The intimacy of the moment hung in the air, and taking hold of Draco's hand, I pulled it into my lap. "Why is it that you've ditched your snakes?" I inquired.

Draco blinked for a heartbeat or two, and then, with a hint of vulnerability, he uttered, "I much rather spend time with my dove." I angled my head, my eyes softening with understanding. "I know how difficult... this year has been for you, and I—'' I began, wanting to express empathy and support. But he swiftly interrupted, waving a dismissive hand. "Stop—" Draco's voice cut through, and I pressed my lips together into a thin line, absorbing his words. "I don't want your pity," he declared firmly.

As we sat there, hands still entwined on the blanket, the night wrapped around us with its quietude. The unspoken sentiments lingered. I beckoned Draco's eyes to look back at mine, my expression softening. "All I was going to say was, if you'd prefer to drown your sorrows in rum or scotch, don't hold back on my account," I reassured, offering a hint of a comforting smile.

Draco's gaze met mine, and with a sincerity that resonated in the quiet courtyard, he confessed, "What I prefer is you." Choosing to share the view of the night sky, I laid down. Draco mirrored my actions, laying beside me, and together we gazed up at the stars.

"Have you... heard anything?" I asked, the words hanging in the air, carrying with them the unspoken worries that often colored our thoughts. Narcissa caught word from Professor Snape that the Dark Lord had growing interests in Draco. The day she told you shook you down to the bone.

Draco's gaze met mine. He shook his head slightly, "No," he admitted. The admission that Draco might be recruited brought forth a range of emotions. I had gone through a couple of possibilities, and one haunting scenario involved the desperate act of begging on my knees for mercy, pleading that fate would spare Draco and take me instead.

"If I were recruited, I'd do the utmost terrible things to keep you from the Dark Lord's reach," he confessed, his voice a whisper, carrying a weight of determination and a hint of vulnerability.

I swallowed, a surge of determination coursing through me as I hoisted myself up on my elbows. "You won't be recruited, Draco. I refuse to even prepare for such an outcome," I declared. He looked at me, his expression holding a mixture of understanding and the weight of the unspoken realities we faced. "You can only deny it for so long," he remarked, a note of resignation in his voice.

I scoffed at the idea, unwilling to entertain the thought of a future where his skin wears the mark. Yet, before I could say more, Draco pulled me down on top of him.

His breath, minty and reassuring, mingled with mine as our foreheads touched. "You need to understand, Dove. My loyalties will always lie with you," Draco whispered, his words carrying a sense of sincerity and a pledge that transcended the uncertainties of the wizarding world. My eyelids slipped closed as Draco continued, "Don't you know that?" His words, filled with sincerity, echoed in the tranquil courtyard.

A gentle smile graced my lips as I lifted my head, my eyes opening and meeting his. I shook my head no. A loose strand of brunette hair fell free, and with a gentle touch, Draco hooked it back behind my ear. “My knees must not be bruised enough then.” He commented.

#draco lucius malfoy #draco fluff #draco malfoy #draco fuckingmalfoy #draco imagine #dracotheslytherinprince #draco angst #draco fic #tom felton #harry potter #hogwarts #lord voldemort #dark magic #dark mark #fluffy #comfort

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