Drarry for the Light Hearted

Just going to be posting Drarry goodness.

[nsasquith]

@drarrymicrofic | prompt: Bound | wc: 50 |

Never one to be bound by the laws of magic, Harry willingly drank the Veritaserum.

“Now, Mr Potter,” the Auror started. “Where is Mr Malfoy?”

“Haven’t a bloody clue where my husband is,” Harry lied with a sharp grin. “When you find him, tell him I said 'Hello, my Love.'”

[darlingirly]

Terrible Timing

@drarrymicrofic | wc: 330 | prompt: tremble

For three days, the Auror Office had been tearing London apart for Harry’s missing partner, and he had not slept a wink. 

Now, Harry was at Malfoy’s side, blasting through the restraints. Malfoy slumped forward, and Harry caught him before he hit the floor.

“Malfoy,” Harry said, gathering his trembling body carefully into his arms. “Malfoy, look at me.”

Malfoy’s eyes opened, unfocused and dulled.

“Potter,” he rasped.

“I’m here. Help’s coming.”

Malfoy blinked at him. “You look dreadful.”

Harry let out something that was almost a laugh. “You’ve been tortured for three days and you’re insulting my appearance?”

“Priorities,” Malfoy whispered, closing his eyes.

“Stay awake.”

“I’m trying. Don’t sound so bossy.”

Harry pressed his fingers to Malfoy’s throat. His pulse was there, fast and weak.

“Sorry,” Harry said. “I’ll ask nicely next time.”

“Liar.”

Harry’s hand shook where it held him. “Yeah.”

Malfoy stared up at him, breathing shallowly. His whole body kept jerking in little aftershocks.

“I thought about you,” Malfoy said.

Harry swallowed. “What?”

“I—.” Malfoy’s fingers twitched against Harry’s sleeve. “I imagined you, when the pain got too much.”

Malfoy’s eyes fluttered, and Harry tightened his arm around him.

“No. Stay with me.”

“Trying,” Malfoy said again, irritated even now. “Merlin, Potter.”

“Good. Be annoyed. That’s good.”

Malfoy gave the smallest broken huff. 

“The thought of you kept me alive,” he continued. “Without you, what do I live for?” 

“Malfoy.”

“I know. Terrible timing. Always had terrible timing.”

Harry stared at him. “Are you under Veritaserum?”

“Yes, but that means you have to believe me.”

Harry brushed his fingers through Malfoy’s hair, matted and bloodied. “I do.”

“I want you,” Malfoy said bluntly. “There. Bloody humiliating.”

“You don’t have to—”

“I do have to. That’s rather the point of truth serum, Potter.” 

Harry’s vision blurred.

“Just believe me,” Malfoy whispered. “Please.”

The door burst open. Voices filled the room as Aurors and Healers flooded in. 

Harry held onto Malfoy until they made him let go.

[aegisreadsanything]

@drarrymicrofic | Prompt: Tremble | WC: 50

Look What You Made Me Do

Despite the pain snaking down his back, Draco could only smirk when he felt the floor start to tremble.

“What’s so funny, you piece of scum Death Eater?” Snarled his captor, approaching.

Draco gave him a wide smile, totally worth the punch he got in response.

“My husband is here.”

[nsasquith]

@drarrymicrofic | prompt: Inclined | wc: 381 | rated: M

Breathless and spent, Draco tumbles down onto the bed. He’s laughing. A real, genuine laugh. He turns his head and finds Harry beside him, flushed and amused and a little bewildered.

The reason why sits on Harry’s finger.

A gold band.

The only thing he’s wearing.

“So?” Draco asks, shifting to face him properly.

“So what?” Harry counters.

Draco is in no mood to draw the process out. He crowds into Harry’s space, nipping gently at the sweat-slick skin of his neck, then soothes the sting with a kiss.

Against his ear, he says, “You’re wearing it.”

Harry looks at him, eyes half-lidded. “So I am.”

“I’m going to presume, then.” Draco takes Harry’s hand, draws it up, kisses the ring he had slotted onto his finger half an hour ago, then holds it tight.

“Presume?”

“That you’re saying yes. You didn’t say it earlier.”

Harry’s lips twitch. “You didn’t exactly give me the chance.”

“Is it a yes, Harry?” Draco presses.

He knows it is. It has to be.

How can it not be after everything? After the war and the trials, after both of them becoming Aurors, after the fights and the arguments, after the shared drinks where absolution was found at the bottom of a pint glass and resurrection between the sheets.

How can it not be yes, when even after all that, they spent months denying themselves the joy and love of each other because they both felt like they didn’t deserve it?

Harry tightens his fingers around Draco’s.

He tilts his head, fondness written plainly across his face. “I’m inclined to acquiesce.”

“Inclined to acquiesce,” Draco repeats mildly. “Wow. Swallowed a thesaurus, did you?”

“Swallowed something,” Harry mutters, arching a brow. “Swallowed your brain through your—”

Draco pinches his waist. Harry laughs, and then Draco is tickling him properly, ruthless with it, fingers digging into every vulnerable place he knows by heart.

“Draco—fuck—stop—”

“Answer the question.”

“I did!”

“You used four syllables too many.”

Harry squirms beneath him, panting and helpless and wearing Draco’s ring.

“Yes,” he gasps at last. “Yes, I’ll fucking marry you.”

Draco stills and for a moment, the room goes quiet around them. Then Harry reaches up, cups Draco’s face, and smiles.

“Since you’re so inclined to ask.”

[darlingirly]

EXCLUSIVE: The Boy Who Lived… with Malfoy? Potter’s Dating Life Exposed!

@drarrymicrofic | wc: 550 | prompt: hesitate

“Well,” Harry said, the second Draco’s front door slammed behind them, “that went a bit shit.”

Draco turned on him slowly. “I thought it was salvageable until she asked whether you’d ever pictured me naked.”

“I said no!” 

“You said no comment! Seriously, Potter, you were distracted the whole time.”

Harry blinked. “That was because I was picturing you naked.”

Draco stared at him.

“What?” Harry asked. “I’m only human.”

Draco made a strangled noise and swept towards the drinks cabinet. “I need something strong enough to erase the last forty minutes of my life. Possibly the last twenty years.”

“Bit dramatic.”

“Skeeter asked whether we were lovers, Potter.”

“She asks everyone that.” Harry dropped onto Draco’s sofa, sprawling deliberately, all messy hair and open shirt at the collar. “Also, you didn’t exactly help.”

Draco paused with the whisky bottle in hand. “Me?”

“Yes, you. All that sneering and ‘Mr Potter and I have a complicated history’ rubbish.”

“It is complicated.”

“It’s not that complicated.”

Draco poured too much whisky into one glass. “You are the one that hesitated first when she asked what we were to each other. Is friends not in your vocabulary?”

“Are we friends?” Harry asked, looking up at him beneath his lashes. “Because I thought you’d prefer me to say fuck buddies.”

“We are not—”

“What am I doing in your flat, then?”

Harry stood. Draco hated how casually he did it. He stopped too close.

“What am I doing here, Draco?”

Draco lifted his chin. “Being irritating.”

Harry stepped closer. “Try again.”

“Being impossible.”

“Warmer.”

Draco swallowed. “Being presumptuous.”

Harry’s smile was wicked. “You’re going to fuck me, are you not?”

Draco set the whisky down very carefully, face going hot. “For someone who froze in front of Rita Skeeter, you’ve found your tongue remarkably quickly.”

Harry’s gaze dropped to Draco’s mouth. “Could find yours too.”

“Potter.”

“Malfoy.”

“We are friends,” Draco said.

Harry laughed. “Right. Brilliant. Friends.”

“Harry—”

“No, it’s good. Really. Let me call Ron and ask whether he wants to shove me against a wall.”

Draco caught Harry by the front of his shirt and pushed him back against the nearest wall. Harry went willingly, annoyingly smug for half a second, until Draco pressed in and watched the smugness fade away.

“What do you want me to say?” Draco asked. “Since apparently you’ve decided directness is tonight’s theme.”

Harry’s breath caught as Draco leaned nearer, though not kissing him yet. 

“I want you to say I’m not your friend,” Harry said, voice low, “I want you to say you were furious because I hesitated. Because you thought I was ashamed of you. Which I’m not.”

“You looked like you were.”

“I looked terrified because for one second I thought you might not want me to say it first.”

“Say what?”

“That you’re mine. That I’m yours. That Skeeter can print whatever headline she likes, so long as she spells boyfriend correctly.”

Draco forgot how to breathe, but not how to snark, because he said, “Boyfriend is a rather juvenile term.”

Harry’s smile returned. “What would you prefer? Lover? Partner?”

Draco made a face. “Fine,” he said, fingers still twisted in Harry’s shirt. “You’re my boyfriend.”

Harry’s green eyes went soft. “Yeah?”

“Yes, Potter. Don’t make me repeat myself.”

Harry kissed him. 

[nsasquith]

@drarrymicrofic | prompt: But(t) | wc: 571 |

Unfortunately, Draco was very used to hearing but.

“Mr Malfoy, thank you for your Healer application. Your NEWT scores are exemplary, and we thoroughly enjoyed reading your dissertation. We would love to offer you a position at St Mungo’s, but we’ve decided to move forward with a candidate whose public profile is less complicated.” “Draco, I know our parents want us to get married, and whilst I think it wouldn’t be a terrible arrangement, I just can’t do it. You’re lovely and all, but I have to think of any children we might have. It would be so difficult for them to have a Death Eater as a father.” “Darling, you know I adore it when you visit. I really do live for them… but perhaps it would be easier if you came when it was dark out? So the press didn’t see you.” “You can work in the DMLE admin department, Malfoy. The pay is as shit as the hours, but it’s probably more than you deserve.”

So used to hearing but was Draco that he lived in a constant state of flight. One foot out the door. His heart tucked away safe and sound. It was easier to keep his guard up than risk the pain of letting someone close enough to wound him properly.

You would think, with so much practice, that his walls would be impenetrable. It took Harry Potter returning to England after years abroad for Draco to learn this was simply not true.

Polite smiles as they passed each other in the corridor became small talk in the cafeteria queue. Small talk became shared jokes over lunch. Shared jokes became Harry waiting by Draco’s desk at the end of the day, asking if he wanted to get a drink. One drink became two, became Harry’s hand on the small of Draco’s back, became trysts in the supply cupboard, nights at each other’s homes, weekends away, until somehow—impossibly—all of it became whispered promises between the sheets that Draco didn’t believe.

But gods, did he want to.

He wanted to believe so badly that, despite half his heart constantly bracing for the inevitability of but, the other half lived in hope of a full stop.

It came on a Wednesday evening. Harry and Draco stood side by side at the hob, both tired from work, both still in their shirtsleeves, cooking dinner together like they did most nights.

“You’re going to burn the garlic,” Draco said, reaching past Harry to turn down the heat. “Add the stock now.”

Harry did as he was told. “That enough?”

“Perfect. Add the rice and let it simmer for fifteen.” Draco glanced at the oven. “I think the chicken is almost done, you know—”

“I love you.”

So sudden it was that Draco froze. He braced himself, waiting for the but.

I love you, but this is difficult. I love you, but people will talk. I love you, but I don’t know if I can.

Only, it never came. Instead, Harry took his hand, threaded their fingers together, and stood so close that they were chest-to-chest, and Draco began to wonder.  

“I love you,” Harry said, softer this time. “That’s all.”

Draco swallowed. His heart was no longer tucked away safe and sound. It was right there in his throat, beating itself half to death because it was true.

“I love you too,” he said, his voice trembling.

[cocoavanille]

for @drarrymicrofic | butt

Cigarette butt falls on the ground. Damned be his shaking cold hand that was steady and warm just a few minutes ago when he succeeded in lifting perhaps the strongest curse Manchester has seen in a century.

It's not work, it never is. It's Harry fucking Potter. As always.

Last time Draco smoked was during his talk with Potter when he got out of Azkaban, just turned twenty. Harry picked him up personally – young to-be-auror, veteran, the Hero. A hero who seeked company of an ex death eater because they had the same depth, degree of knowing how much certain experiences suck. Harry had friends, but their parallels are different. They weren't bound by anything except fate back then and it made the talk easier. During said talk Draco realised Harry needed mind healing aid. But the hero can't even pee in peace, less so afford news of his state to slip through the cracks of someone's moral code.

Back then he smoked to share the poison with Harry.

Now Draco lights up second one to beat one drug with another – years have passed and he still gets hopeful when they work together, a great team. Like today.

"Weird".

Harry almost forces him to jump and block. Sneaky soundless bastard learned how to conceal presence well.

"What exactly"?

"You don't usually smoke according to your friends. Hiding?"

"More like your company and the shit we do makes me want a cigarette and some hot chocolate".

"So I'm special to you"?

Idiot.

Draco breathes in the nicotine and pushes out the smoke, his wind magic gently brushing Harry's hair and face. Caress, feather light kisses. Pure love with a hint of salt and hope yet bitter.

° Yes, yes you are. °

"Am I?"

"I've reached your consciousness a few seconds ago. Use your legilimency skills. Besides, why question something you know the answer to".

Harry smirks, hand covering his, warming it up with a spell. Steals his cigarette and breathes out a tiny dragon made of smoke. Asshole. Brilliant one at that.

"You are truly special, Harry Potter. The boy who lived, our saviour and a massive butt! The most insufferable man in the Universe and my personal curse I haven't found the cure to. Happy?"

"Pretty much".

"What the hell could you possibly want with me after this shameful confession?"

"A kiss would be nice".

Harry beams with an unbothered smile and laughter in his eyes and Draco snaps his new dose in half. Scoffs. Sighs.

"Some day you'll learn manners to break their rules with style, but as of now we'll concider your audacity cute. No kisses until the paperwork is done".

Harry pouts and leaves him alone for now. Draco sighs again. When has he fallen in love with a man that can't even be patient?

Love is truly an enigma.

[beautifullybrokenpeople]

Spoiled

"Draco, he does not need a miniature broomstick. He is four months old."

Draco held up the tiny Nimbus, which was admittedly adorable. "It's for developing motor skills."

"He can't even hold his own head up."

In Draco's arms, Teddy had already shifted—platinum hair, grey eyes, pointy little chin. He looked like a Malfoy heir who was judging Harry's financial decisions.

"He's supporting his head beautifully," Draco lied, adjusting the baby's leather-studded booties. "And he loves his broom."

Teddy turned his hair green.

"He's mocking you," Harry said.

"He's supporting me."

A week later, Harry found an expensive tiny tuxedo in Teddy’s wardrobe.

"For formal occasions," Draco said defensively.

"He's a baby."

"He's my son and he deserves the best."

When Draco showed Harry the crystal mobile he had gotten Teddy, Harry put his foot down. Absolutely not. No more spoiling. They were raising a well-adjusted, non-materialistic child.

Three days later, Harry came home with a huge stuffed Hippogriff that cost more than their sofa.

"He smiled at it," Harry told Draco, who looked deeply smug. "With his actual face. My face. He looked like me and he smiled."

Teddy—currently black haired and green eyed in Harry's arms—reached for the toy and cooed. Draco scooped up the baby, who immediately shifted to match Draco. "Of course he did," Draco said, kissing the baby's pointy nose. "He's brilliant."

"Give him back."

"Get your own."

They stood in the nursery, passing Teddy back and forth, watching him flicker between  looking like each of them, until Harry finally just wrapped his arms around both of them and decided that spoiled wasn't the worst thing a child could be.

[peckedpolaris]

baby harry, about to start primary school: what if no one likes me and i dont make any friends :(

sirius: buddy, how could that happen? you're amazing! and you're my best friend

baby harry:

baby harry: even though you're big and im small ?

sirius: yes :)

*later*

baby harry: uncle reggie do u have friends

regulus: yeah

baby harry: r they nice?

regulus: i guess

baby harry: do u play with them

regulus: something like that

baby harry: oh okay

regulus: why do u ask?

baby harry: just cuz

baby harry: umm uncle reggie?

regulus: yeah?

baby harry: can padfoot play with you and your friends too?

regulus:

regulus: uh why, i mean yeah, but why

baby harry: well padfoot doesn't have friends. well he has me, but im his best friend, even though im little and he's big

regulus, trying not to laugh: is that so

baby harry: and i think padfoot should have big friends too. so he's not lonely when i go to school.

regulus:

regulus: pfft-

[supmilger]

Don't let Harry use the microphone

[daddiesdrarryy]

Ron: Blaise, did you just put another thousands Galleons on my desk?

Blaise: Yes

Ron: But what is it for?

Blaise: Do I need a reason to give my husband money?

Ron: Yeah! You can’t just throw money at my face out of the blue like that, I need a reason

Blaise: Oh I see

Blaise: The reason is that I wanted to do it

Ron: …

[dearestfluer]

@drarrymicrofic - eavesdrop - rating t - wc 695

Ron stared at his pint, pretending very hard to focus on the amber liquid and not eavesdrop on Draco and Harry's conversation at the other end of the bar.

"You're in my space, Potter," Draco said, but there was no heat in it. His hand rested on Harry's bicep, fingers curled around the muscle there.

"Am I?" Harry asked, leaning closer. He'd grown broader after Hogwarts, taller too, filled out properly with Auror training. Right now he was using all that extra height to crowd into Malfoy's space. "Didn't notice."

"You're a big, fat liar."

"Prove it."

Ron took a long drink. The Leaky Cauldron was busy tonight, full of witches and wizards unwinding after work. No one else seemed bothered by the fact that Harry Potter, Head Auror, had apparently lost his mind.

"I don't need to prove anything to you," Draco said. His thumb traced a small circle on Harry's arm.

"You like touching me now."

"I'm simply admiring the results of your training regimen. Professional interest."

"Professional interest."

"I work with runes, Potter. I appreciate well-constructed things."

Harry laughed, and Ron wanted to hex him. This was the same bloke who'd taken down three dark wizards last week with perfect strategy and timing. The same bloke who could coordinate an entire team of Aurors through complex raids without breaking a sweat.

Put him near Malfoy and he turned into a lovesick fool.

"How's the Ministry contract going?" Harry asked.

"Tedious. Your department keeps requesting modifications."

"Maybe I'm requesting them."

"Are you?"

"Maybe I just like having excuses to see you."

Ron gripped his glass harder. Hermione had warned him before she'd left for the night. She'd actually warned him that Harry and Malfoy would probably end up like this, but he hadn't listened.

"That's pathetic, Potter."

"You're still here."

"The drinks are good."

"The drinks are terrible. You told me that fifteen minutes ago."

Draco's lips twitched. "Did I?"

"You did. Right before you put your hand on my arm and haven't moved it since."

"I hate you," Draco said.

"No, you don't."

"I really, really do."

"Say it again. More convincingly this time."

Ron looked over despite himself. Harry had shifted even closer, his hand now resting on the bar beside Draco's, their fingers almost touching. Draco had tipped his head back to maintain eye contact, his hair catching the firelight. He looked like he wanted to be exactly where he was.

They both did.

"This is stupid," Draco murmured.

"No, you're stupid."

"Brilliant comeback. Did that take you all day to come up with?"

Harry grinned, absolutely besotted, and Ron wanted to leave. He should leave. He should have left ten minutes ago.

"I should go," Draco said, but he didn't move. "Early meeting tomorrow."

"Skip it."

"Some of us have professional obligations, Potter."

"Your contract isn't due for another week. I know because I'm the one who approved the timeline."

"Abuse of power."

"Definitely."

Blaise appeared at Ron's elbow, signaling Tom for a drink. He glanced toward Harry and Draco, then snorted.

"Finally," Blaise said. "Merlin, I thought they'd never get their act together."

Ron turned to stare at him. "You think this is good?"

"Weasley, I've been listening to Draco talk about Potter since first year. This is mercy." Blaise accepted his firewhisky from Tom. "And you can't tell me Potter was any better."

Ron slumped on his stool. "He wasn't."

"There you go then. It's time these two actually did something about it instead of making the rest of us suffer."

"I'm suffering right now."

"You're eavesdropping. That's your fault."

"They're doing this out in the open. I can't not hear them."

Blaise raised his glass toward Harry and Draco. "To them finally getting together. May they take it somewhere private soon so we can all have some peace."

Ron clinked his glass against Blaise's because what else could he do? His best friend was absolutely gone on Draco Malfoy, standing there with his hand creeping closer to Draco's on the bar, smiling like nothing else in the world mattered.

And Malfoy, the git, looked exactly the same way.

Ron was never going to recover from this.

[incognitoburritto]

Harry Tells The Kids The Story of Their First Date

@drarrymicrofic prompt: butt, WC: 50 “He used to make fun of me all the time,” Harry reminisced, “I was the butt of all his jokes. So much so that the first time he complimented me, I automatically responded, 'Fuck off, Malfoy'. Then I had to chase him down, apologise and ask him for a drink.”

[darlingirly]

How to Survive a Ministry Gala

@drarrymicrofic | wc: 173 | prompt: incline

Across the very, very, very boring Ministry gala stood the object of Harry’s undivided attention: Draco Malfoy.

“You don’t have to glare at the pointy git all night,” Ron said.

“What?”

“Ron’s right, you know,” Hermione added. “You might have a better time if you tried forgetting Malfoy exists.”

Harry was only half-listening. Across the room, Malfoy inclined his head in their private way, ever so slightly, towards the left.

Harry coughed. “Er. Yeah. I think what I actually need is some… air.”

Ron clapped him on the back. “That’s the spirit. Come back with a fresh mindset and less Malfoy.” Hermione nodded her agreement. 

Harry slipped through the crowd and out into the empty corridor. Moments later, Malfoy followed.

“You look bloody hot in those robes,” Harry said.

“Yes, they are rather thick, and it is quite stuffy in there.”

“The other hot, you git.”

Malfoy’s mouth curved. “Mm. Come here, then.”

A moment later, Malfoy had him pressed against the wall, and the gala became very, very, very easy to forget.

[casually-eat-my-soul]

I really do like the idea of the more stiles develops his spark the less attached to reality he becomes at first.

Like he starts hearing and seeing thing that aren’t there. Starts losing time all over again. So that why he can suffer though is this the nogistune again or do I have Frontotemporal dementia like my mother.

Especially when stiles takes to the extreme and is like “hey you guys fr have to kill me this time if it is the nogistune” (Derek would lowkey kidnap him if he said this) whoop no decision making for you.

I quite enjoy the angst potential, love putting stiles in situations

[spookeart]

Wolfstar roommates AU✨

Two more 🔞 pages over hereee

[NSFW] Roommates (part 2/3) | Spooke

[NSFW] Roommates (part 2/3) by Spooke on Patreon. Join Spooke's community for exclusive content and updates.

[supmilger]

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