#drarry ficlets

[drarrily-we-row-along]

July 7: Ice Cream

Harry always ordered vanilla ice cream.

And really, it shouldn't have made Draco lose his mind. It shouldn't matter what kind of ice cream his boyfriend ordered everytime they took Scorp to the park and had ice cream together. But it did.

Harry loved food. He had broadened Draco's palate significantly by cooking for him; he used a wide array of spices and herbs, he'd loved learning to cook and reclaiming a piece of his childhood.

Draco just couldn't wrap his mind around Harry ordering vanilla every time. They were still eating their ice cream while Scorpius was off playing on the swings when Draco decided he simply couldn't take it any more. "Why do you always order vanilla ice cream?"

"Hmm?" Harry asked, turning his head from watching Scorpius on the swings to looking at Draco.

"Why do you always order vanilla ice cream?" he repeated. "They have like two dozen flavors in that store and-"

"I've never had anything other than vanilla," he replied, brow furrowing. "The Dursleys didn't let me have sweets," he said, and Draco burned with the familiar anger he had everytime Harry talked about them. "But Mrs. Figg gave me a little vanilla ice cream once," he said, smiling a little at the memory.

"So you've never-"

There was a wail across the park and Harry was out of his seat before Draco could even get his eyes on Scorpius. "I've got him," he said, already moving toward Draco's son, who appeared to have fallen from the swing.

He watched as Harry cuddled Scorpius and brushed the dirt off, obviously comisserating with him, and a plan started to form in the back of his mind.

(Read more below the cut)

Harry really enjoyed Scorpius. He was never upset when plans changed because Draco had a child, or about some things moving slower than they might have otherwise, because he really liked Scorpius.

And he really liked watching Draco with his child. There was something about it that made Harry want to melt into a puddle.

But he also really enjoyed the times when Scorp was at his mum's house and he could come over after work and spend time with Draco without feeling like he was upsetting their routine. Tonight was one of those nights and he rang the doorbell, bouncing a little on his toes while he waited for Draco to answer.

It was only a moment before the door opened and revealed Draco in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt that Harry was fairly sure belonged to him. Something warm and pleased rumbled in his chest at the sight.

"Come in," Draco said, smiling widely at him and stepping back to give Harry room to make it through the door.

"Hi," he said, leaning in and pressing a kiss to Draco's cheek. "How was your day?"

Draco hooked his fingers through Harry's and gave him a tug toward the kitchen, "I have a surprise for you."

"Oh?" he asked, always pleased to have a surprise involving food waiting for him.

He wasn't quite sure what he was expecting, but it certainly wasn't this. The table was covered in pints of ice cream, all of their lids off, revealing all sorts of flavors.

"Draco, what-"

"You said that you'd only ever had vanilla ice cream," Draco said, not quite meeting his gaze. "And I didn't like that, because you love food! You love flavors and textures, and-" his brow furrowed, "everything about food, so-"

"So you bought dozens of flavors of ice cream so that I could try them?" he asked, his chest felt like a hole had been blown clean through it. What was he meant to say to that? How could he possibly-

"Well if you don't like it, just say so," Draco said, arms crossed over his chest defensively. "You don't have to-"

"Draco," he said, catching his chin in his fingers and meeting his eyes, "I love you," he said. Draco's eyes widened and Harry replayed what he'd just said and realized his error. "It," he corrected. "I love it. I love this," he rambled. "So thoughtful of you-"

Draco leaned in and pressed his lips to Harry's. When he pulled back he whispered, "I love you too." And Harry's heart filled to bursting, ready to fly from his chest. "Let's try some ice cream," he said with a grin, "And then maybe I'll show you a favorite game of mine with chocolate sauce," he added with a wink.

The temptation to put the ice cream under a stasis and ask Draco to show him the game first was great. But as he looked at the table, at the love and care with which Draco had set it all out, he couldn't. He wanted fun, and games, and sex, but more than that he wanted intimacy. He wanted to be known, to be loved and cared for, and ice creams laid out across the table was exactly that. "Where should we start?"

Draco started talking about the way that he'd organized the flavors and the road map he'd planned, and Harry fell a little bit more in love.

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

July 6: Tattoo | July 8: Postcard

Read more of my gentle July ficlets

#drarry #drarry ficlets #fluff #gentle july #love #soft #ice cream #one shot

[baba-yaga-s-breadsticks]

Prompt List 2.0

All of these already have ideas behind them, just send in an ask with the title and I WILL write it.

Mostly fluff, will label otherwise.

* signifies that the prompt has already been written and you can find it on AO3

Draco’s Vision Ring (angst)

Against All Odds

Sectumsempra (flangst)*

Spin the Bottle*

Sock Skating

Chickenfight

Draco’s Sassy As Fuck Snake

Secret Admirer

Shoulder Rub

Eyefucking

Artist Draco

Drarry Points Hourglass

Mistletoe, Mistlefoe

Masquerade Ball

Never Tickle A Sleeping Dragon

Midnight Duel

Patronus

Basiatio Kissing Charm

Excessive PDA

Touch Starved

Roommates

Draco Meets the Dursleys*

Veela

Animagus

Grimmauld Place

Omegaverse AU

Our Thing (minor angst)

Sectumsempra 2.0

Falling

Royalty AU

Royalty AU 2.0

Fake Dating

Arranged Marriage

Havana

Fake Friendship

Accidental Kissing

Getting a Pet

Paris

.

I will also take SONGFIC REQUESTS!! send me a song, and I'll drarry it for ya!

#drarry #ficlets #drarry ficlets #cute #fluff #drarry fluff #draco x harry #harry potter #draco malfoy #harry potter/draco malfoy #hogwarts #boys kissing #my writing #ao3

[howtokillavampire]

you know when you start writing a fanfic and you have a general idea of the length it's going to be, and then you start actually writing it and realize you have severely underestimated yourself and have once again bitten off more than you can chew

#it was supposed to be a 500 word ficlet and now im over 2k and only about halfway through it #i have severely underestimated myself once again #its a coldflash time travel au #what can i say #Im a suckwr for a good hero x villain trope #coldflash #ao3 #archive of our own #fanfic #fanfiction #fandom #drarry #superbat #hannigram #mattimir

[phoebe-delia]

I Have Never Been Loved Like This Before

Title from the song "Rock Me Gently" by Andy Kim. CW: very very minor injury

Scorpius will know gentle hands waking him in the morning. He will know lullabies sung low and soft in his ear. He'll have careful fingers sealing the bandage on his knees, and lips pressing a healing kiss to his injured skin. He'll wear colorful, soft clothes, have dozens of storybooks, and cuddle with plenty of stuffed animal friends to keep nightmares at bay. He'll never have a rotten Christmas or a lonely birthday. He'll want for nothing, but he'll never take it for granted.

"But most of all," Harry whispered to the pink-cheeked infant in Draco's arms, "I promise, that we will never let you know what it's like to feel unloved. "

#drarry #draco malfoy #harry potter #draco and harry #harry and draco #draco x harry #harry x draco #draco/harry #harry/draco #draco malfoy and harry potter #harry potter and draco malfoy #draco malfoy x harry potter #harry potter x draco malfoy #hpdm #drarry squad #drarry fic #drarry fanfic #drarry fanfiction #drarry ficlet #drarry drabble #drarry fandom #hp fic #hp fanfic #hp fanfiction #hp fandom #harry potter fandom #harry potter fic #harry potter fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #phoebe-delia

[ellorypurebloodculture]

For a pairing: Draco/Harry?

"You can't possibly be serious, Draco," Heir Theodore Nott says, his voice full of censure as he stares at the pendant necklace swinging from Heir Draco Malfoy's fingers.

"I couldn't possibly be more serious," Draco replies smugly as he twirls the necklace, waiting for his quarry to descend the stairs so that he can offer it; the traditional first courtship gift offered by a Malfoy is a pendant necklace.

"He's going to throw it back in your face and refuse," Conte Blaise Zabini states.

Heir Harry Potter steps off the staircase and into the Entrance Hall, sandwiched between Miss Hermione Granger and Mister Ron Weasley, and immediately raises a hand to catch the necklace when Draco throws it at him with a, "Potter, catch!"

The smirk that spreads across Draco's face is unholy when he turns it on his best friends, purring, "Told you," with wicked relish as Harry howls with laughter and dons the necklace, the pendant of which states: Property of Heir Draco Malfoy.

#ellory writes #five sentence ficlet #draco malfoy/harry potter #drarry

[hogwartsfirebolt]

crescent

“The wolf is not really separate from me,” Harry told me after our first date. He was walking me home, hands in his pockets, broad-shouldered and freezing — his jacket hung around my shoulders. The moon was a third member of our party, waning crescent, walking alongside us. “I feel it, even now. It wants out.”

I hummed. “Is it hard? To keep down?”

“A bit. It kind of always wants out, around you.” He didn’t sound upset, rather on the verge of laughter, like it was some private joke I wasn’t privy to, not yet. “It’s kind of funny.”

I was still too quiet back then, unsure of where we were going, if we were going, and my mind raced whenever I was around him, so I didn’t fully grasp the meaning until months and months later. I watched him go through moon cycle after moon cycle, periods of restlessness, hyper-focus, pain, hunger, something more, before I began to understand what he meant.

“The wolf is me, but … uncensored. More powerful. More stupid,” he said the night he finally let me stay with him during the full moon. “I won’t hurt you, because it knows you. Just don’t let me near anyone else, we don’t want a repeat of last month.”

Last month someone had caught him transforming. He hadn’t hurt them, they’d only seen him breaking a few of his own bones, but the story had sold well to the papers, with gruesome details that couldn’t have been further from the truth. The media ate up everything related to Harry, still. It had been a year of our something by then, a favorite topic amongst the papers, but Harry insisted he didn’t care about that, only about them using his image to perpetuate the lycanthrope stereotype.

“What should I do if someone comes close?” I asked. We were far up in the highlands, but there was still a chance.

Harry grinned and circled my waist with one arm, gaze warm. “Just wiggle prettily or something. Distract me. I won’t be able to resist you.”

When I saw it for the first time, a beautiful, mighty beast of evergreen eyes and powerful strides, the wolf met my gaze head on, sniffed me curiously and, after a second of hesitation, leaned forward so I could touch its muzzle. It stuck by my side all night, and placed itself between me and the strange sounds of the mountain. A protector. It was more Harry than I ever expected it to be.

“How can you tell it’s me, when you’re the wolf?” I asked him the next morning. He was naked and shivering, but his eyes were alight with the remnants of the freedom he’d experienced, howling at the night.

He went sheepish, he always did when discussing the specifics of his animal instincts. “Your scent. It comforts the wolf. It knows you’re pack, that you’re its human.”

It took him forever to share those things with me without shame, he always gave brief answers and changed the subject as fast as he could, but when he finally gave in to my curiosity, he admitted what I, by then, already suspected.

“I knew. During our first date, and even before, it’s why I asked you out in the first place. I already knew that — me and the wolf, we wanted you. We knew it was going to be you. It used to want to leap out of my skin whenever you were around.”

And I remembered his words from that very first night and laughed, because really, it was kind of funny.

#I will never shut up about werewolves #I’m not sorry!!!! #drarry #drarry fic #ficlet #Draco Malfoy #Harry Potter #mywriting

[xx-thedarklord-xx]

Is it?

“Daddy!”

Lucius sighed behind a copy of the Daily Prophet. He ignored the way Narcissa snorted from the other side of the kitchen table.

“Draco, we discussed this. You are to call me father.”

He didn’t have to look down to know that Draco was pouting. Five years old wasn’t old enough to have proper decorum… yet.

“But you said I could call you that in secret.”

Narcissa snorted again, and he debated about replacing her cleansing potion with a dye potion. Then they’d see if that humor lasted.

“We aren’t in secret, are we?” When he looked over the top of the paper he was proven right. Draco was pouting.

“I forgot what it meant.”

Lucius sighed again. It wasn’t worth it. Battles only mattered if they were won, and Lucius knew the moment that his son was born that Draco would win every battle.

“But that doesn’t matter!” Draco cried, hands clapping together. “You said one day I would get married and have a wife.”

“Yes,” Lucius said slowly, not bothering to look up from the paper as he began to read again. “I also said you needed to practice your studies so that you can take over the Malfoy name.”

“I don’t care about that.”

Battles. Losing battles.

“I decided that I’ll be the wife!” Draco continued; voice closer to a yell than anything polite. No decorum, he must get that from Narcissa.

“Pardon?” Lucius put down the paper and gave Draco his full attention, ignoring the wheezing laugh that Narcissa didn’t attempt to hide.

“I want to be a husband,” Draco said, puffing out his chest. “But I also want to have a husband too. So, I think that means I’m a wife.”

Decades of heartbreak, yells, fights and screams echoed in his mind before his son’s pleading eyes broke through. Lucius could feel Narcissa’s eyes on him, but this wasn’t a moment when he needed her help. Draco came to him, not her. These were his hangups, not hers. This was his time to be someone better for his son than his father was for him.

There were many criticisms that people held of Lucius—most of them true—but the one thing he wouldn’t be was his father.

“Two men can get married.”

Draco gasped at the same time Narcissa did.

“They can?” Draco did a weird set of movements that he believed was some kind of dance routine. Merlin knew where he picked up that from. The more he thought about it, Draco did spend far too much time with Dobby.

“Yes,” Lucius said with a sad tilt of his lips as he placed a hand to Draco’s cheek. “But there’s going to come a time when you’re going to have to ask yourself if it’s worth it. There will be a lot of people against it, they will expect more from a Malfoy heir.”

Draco frowned; head tilted. “But you said Malfoys don’t care about the thoughts of those beneath us.”

Lucius huffed, refusing to laugh even if his lips twitched.

“You’re right.” Would there ever be a battle he’d win with Draco? “So, then I’ll ask you. Is it? Is it worth it?”

Draco’s forehead wrinkled, tongue poked out as he made a very long and exaggerated thinking sound before he said in a tone that booked no argument,

“Yes.”

“Then you’d best find yourself a husband.”

Draco did another dance… if that was what one would call such a thing.

“Yes! You hear that mum? I get to be a husband and have one!”

“I did hear,” Narcissa said with such a soft sweet smile that Lucius fell in love all over again. “My baby is all grown up.”

Draco puffed out his chest again before he ran out of the room—with no decorum—as he said, “I have to tell Dobby! We have to start planning now.”

That brought a whole set of images that would have to be rectified as soon as possible. The last thing they needed was that senile elf planning anything.

Before he could walk after Draco, Narcissa placed a hand on top of his and said something that no one had ever told him before.

“I’m proud of you.”

And you know what? Lucius was proud of himself too. Just as he was proud of Draco—always would be.

Always.

#Drarry #Draco Malfoy #Luicus Malfoy #Narcissa Malfoy #Fluff #Cute #Soft #XxTheDarkLordxX writes #ficlet #I know it's late #but I had this thought #after hearing a gut wrenching song that made me cry #and one single line #had me going wait #that's soft #I can work with that #if you want to cry though #I'll send you the song #and you'll be like #'how did THIS come out of that song' #and to be honest #idk #my brain is weird

[drarryruinedme7]

Harry looks sideways at Draco. They’re on their bed, ready to go to sleep.

Draco grabs his usual body cream from the nightstand, the coconut scented one. It’s the one with glitters in it.

You’re fifty, Draco.

So? Is there a law forbidding fifty year old people from using glittery body creams?

Harry would say that yes, there is, just to spite him, but not tonight.

Tonight, Harry shakes his head while he recalls every memory of their thirty years spent together. He smiles as he watches Draco spreading cream all over his legs, still so long, still so soft, still so hot.

“Thirty years,” Harry mutters.

Draco pauses for a second, legs glittering. “What?”

“I said —” Harry reaches out, traces an imaginary path down his husband’s shin. “I said — we’ve been together thirty years. That’s a long time.”

He knows he sounds sappy and he feels that too. His voice breaks and when a wicked smile appears on Draco’s face, Harry knows his mind is quickly filling with images from their shared years as well; of their fights, the first tentative and verymuchsecret dates, their first kiss, the many, many christmases, birthdays, lazy mornings spent in bed cuddling.

Draco covers Harry’s hand with his own. God. Harry knows everything about that hand; the small blue mole on the pinkie, the wrinkles time drew on it, the always, always, always, perfect nails.

“Are you trying to tell me it’s too much?”

“I’m trying to tell you,” Harry says, all too happy he’s now 100% able to discern Draco’s use of sarcasm-cause-I’m-embarrassed, “I still love you. More and more. Everyday. I look at you with your body cream and I just— love you so fucking much.”

Draco blushes. How is it possible to love someone so deeply after all this time?

“So sappy.” He turns back to his nightly routine. Looks at Harry out of the corner of his eye. “I love you too,” he murmurs.

#drarry #harry potter #draco malfoy #drarry squad #draco x harry #fluff #idk what this is #just a nightly thought #sometimes I just want them to be cute and sappy and in love #drarry fic #drarry ficlet #drarry fanfic #established relationship #married drarry #mywriting

[getawayfox]

Soft snowflake kisses for @rockingrobin69 🤍

#”maybe a private corner somewhere a little quieter” #yes that line is stolen from your perfect ficlet for me #I love you more than I can say #and I wish you all the little moments #like the ones from your stories #full of magic and brightness #to make your everyday beautiful #🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍 #drarry #draco malfoy #harry x draco #harry potter #hp fanart

[rockingrobin69]

covalent

“Did you look in the—”

“Yes, darling,” not rolling his eyes anymore, coming closer with his hands out, and Harry’s frown which used to be funny is, is, not. “Hey. Harry.”

“It’s,” hyperventilating, “it’s from Molly, I can’t—it has to be somewhere in here, right,” and Draco scoops him in his arms and squeezes.

Squeezes harder until the shaking stops. “Darling,” he whispers, and “sweetheart.” They find their way to bed and Draco layers him with so many kisses Harry can’t even grumble anymore, can’t, move, probably, until he’s laughing, wiping his face on the pillowcase.

“Sorry,” he says, much later, and Draco shushes him with clinical efficiency and rinses the suds out of his hair.

How hard can crocheting be, for crying out loud? He might not be Molly-Weasley-level natural caretaker, but he can bloody do this. He’ll pick up the yarn and the—needles? Tomorrow. He’ll replace this priceless heirloom of a bloody doily and Harry will be… will be happy again.

*

“Which tie do you think I should—oh,” looking up and Draco’s already wrapping it around his neck, pout melting into fond smile. “Really? That one?”

“Really,” Draco murmurs. Tying the knot is the easiest thing, and his fingers are happy to do it, skirting over the soft material and, cheekily, over Harry’s tense shoulders. “It’s going to be fine,” he says.

“I know.” Harry’s looking at them in the mirror. Draco wonders what he sees, besides for muggle suits and all the hair. “You look nice.”

Draco huffs. “I always look nice.”

“All right then, you look fucking sexy. You should always wear a tux.”

“Hmm? Even in bed? Sounds clunky.”

“Clunky? Is it a suit of armour or something?” but the babbling is a sign of its own, and Draco, raised eyebrow, takes his hand.

“We only need to be there for five, ten minutes. I told the Minister you won’t be staying for the full event.”

“How did you get him to agree to that?”

“Charm,” Draco says.

“You mean blackmail.”

“I mean, a lovely personality and a knack for fortunate scheduling.”

Harry’s smiling so wide it feels, ridiculously, that he’d tear out of his suit. “You’re incorrigible,” but he’s quiet after that, which Draco takes as a win. And really, how hard is it to threaten a Minister?

With economical moves, he brushes a lucky piece of lint off Harry’s arm. They’ll make the obligatory appearance, keep the peace or—give hope to the nation, whatever, and then he’ll take Harry to the kebab place outside the Ministry and feed him chips till he’s happy.

*

“Where do we keep the lens cleaner spray?”

Because he doesn’t like the marks the charm leaves. “Third drawer on the right.”

Rattling: “Found it. You picked a film yet?”

“Mm-hmm.” Arranging the bowls, leaning back on the sofa.

“Good. And it’s not Mean Girls again, right? Because love you know I’ll watch anything with you but I think four times a month is, er, wha—” stops with his pretty mouth open, leaning against the doorway with a little swoon. “Draco? What’s this? What are you wearing?”

“There’s a pair for you as well,” the fluffiest material Draco had ever seen, with a pattern of little polar bears in bowties. “Go on, get changed.”

“Is that… I thought we weren’t allowed to eat on the new sofa.”

Draco shrugged. “What’s a hoover charm for? They’re selling your favourite apple-cinnamon popcorn again, I couldn’t resist.”

“Clearly,” with a grin that swallowed the whole room. “You’re aware this is excessive, love, yes? You know this isn’t normal behaviour.”

With a huff, “And we’re entirely normal people?”

Harry laughs, shaking his head. He comes to grab the pyjamas, but takes a detour to Draco, to kiss the top of his head. “You’re bonkers,” whispered into his hair.

“For you,” Draco concedes. “Now go on. I hope you don’t mind, but I chose Princess Bride.”

“You unbearable sap,” with affection so thick in his tone it drips, tiny little kisses on his forehead, his eyebrows, his nose. Happy, Draco thinks with relief: Harry was already happy, and he plans to only make him happier. And really, how hard can it be to get far too much popcorn and his favourite film?

*

“Oh, shit,” Draco says, “I forgot the markers.”

“What?”

“Markers. For the… they help much better than a spell. I’ll have to go back to the office supply shop,” sighing, rubbing his buzzing eyelids. Too little sleep and big test coming up, the constant headache Harry says comes from stress and—

“These ones?” producing a whole pack, unopened, from his work bag.

“What,” Draco says, not quite a question. “You don’t use these.”

“Highlighters? No, not really. I got them for you.” Nudging them closer, nose scrunching on a frown. “What? Why’s that so shocking?”

“It’s not.”

Harry stares. “But?” to the shake of the head, “What, is it only you who’s allowed to take care of me?”

More desperate shaking. Draco’s too tightly strung on no sleep and many-many cups of coffee, and he’s seeing double, and the tears come out unbidden and unexpected.

“Love,” Harry gasps, and cradles weeping Draco in his arms like he would a baby, “I’m sorry, I didn’t—”

“No, no,” nonsensical and silly, “it’s—Harry, you’re so, it’s unfair how much you’re—”

“You’re unfair,” and Harry’s voice is raw too, and they’re both so silly. “Do you even know, do you have any idea how awfully happy you make me just by—”

“Stop, stop,” too weak for the attack, and the markers, and it’s Wednesday and his test is on Friday, and he’s sick with how lovely this is. “Okay, we’re both saps.”

They make each other’s tea and then drink from each other’s cup. Draco’s is too sweet and Harry’s is too strong. Draco’s tired and a little bit terrified, but he keeps thinking, how hard can this be? Not that hard after all.

(For flufftober day 25. Find the soft AO3 collection here).

#drarry fic #tw for minor panic attack #they take care of each other your honour #1000 words #a perfect ficlet! #i mean wordcount wise but also it's very soft okay #flufftober2023 #prompt: nook #rockingrobin69

[drarrily-we-row-along]

July 6: Tattoo

Draco didn't know why he'd agreed to come on this trip in the first place.

He didn't like the beach; the sun was to hot, sand was scratchy and it got everywhere, the ocean made his skin feel crusty and itchy, and the heat turned his fair skin bright red. Beach holidays didn't show him to his best advantage.

But everyone in their friend group was going and when Potter had looked at him with his stupid, big, green eyes and all but begged him to come, Draco hadn't been able to refuse.

So here he sat on a beach chair, under a giant umbrella, sweating profusely, trying not to get sand in his long island iced tea, and keeping his sun glasses firmly in place over his eyes so that Potter wouldn't catch him oggling his arse in his tight swim trunks.

Merlin, Draco didn't know what he'd been thinking.

The desire to touch and oggle Potter would have been too much for anyone, with his long, wild curls; his gorgeous bronze skin getting darker by the minute, all smooth and wet, water clinging to the hair on his chest and the trail leading down into his swim trunks. But it was the glimpse of a tattoo on his hip, peaking just over the waistband of his swim trunks, when they'd ridden low as he was coming out of the water, that made Draco have to physically restrain himself.

It wasn't fair to add another mystery, he was already too attractive as it was. And Draco was hopelessly besotted.

He stared at the other man as he started heading up the beach, until he realized he was on his way over to him. Then he quickly dropped his gaze back to the book he'd been pretending to read.

"Hey," Potter said, collapsing right into the sand next to Draco's chair.

He looked up and feigned nonchalance, "Oh, hello," he said. "Enjoying your time in the ocean?"

Potter nodded and smile at him, "It's brilliant. I've never been to the ocean before."

(read more below the cut)

"No?"

Potter shook his head, "Have you?"

"A few times," he said. "My grandmere lived in the south of France, so," he shrugged.

"That sounds fun," he said.

He nodded, "There were so many things I enjoyed more than the beach, though."

"Have you ever been to a bonfire on the beach when the sun is setting?" he asked.

Draco laughed, "Can't say that I have."

"They're having one tonight," Potter said, "if you wanted to come?"

"Oh," he said, "I don't think they'd really want-"

"I want you there," Potter said earnestly. "And all of our friends do too-"

"But the people hosting-"

"Won't care a bit. Come on," he cajoled, "please Draco?"

And how was he ever meant to say no to that face?

He huffed, "Oh I suppose."

Harry grinned bright as the sun, "Excellent. I was going to head back to shower and change if you wanted to walk back to the house together?" he offered. "I'll carry your chair and umbrella for you."

"And they say chivalry is dead," he teased, heart leaping at the chance to spend more time with Potter, to bask in his presence like proverbial sunshine, and hope he didn't get burned.

Harry folded up the chair and umbrella, "I aim to please," he said.

He laughed and picked up his drink and his novel, the only things left at this point, and followed Harry back toward the house they were all staying in. Sand clung to his feet, prickly and hot, and he wondered how the other man seemed to be immune to the unpleasantness.

"Are you reading for pleasure or for work?" Harry asked, nodding at the book in his hand.

"Why can't it be both?"

He made a face at Draco like he'd given him broccoli after promising him chocolate.

Draco laughed and bumped Harry's shoulder with his, casually, like this was the sort of thing they did. "It's for fun," he clarified.

"Good," he said. "So you're enjoying the trip?" he asked, so earnestly that Draco couldn't possibly say no and crush his hopes.

'Yes," he said. And it was true in many ways; he'd enjoyed sleeping in, enjoyed the free beverages, enjoyed watching Harry in his swim trunks.

"Good." He smiled over at Draco, "I'd hate to think that I dragged you along on a vacation you hated."

"Thanks for inviting me," he said as they started to climb the steps into the house.

Harry grinned at him, "Thanks for coming. It's always more fun when you're here."

He blinked and tried to keep his wits about him, tried not to smile at Harry like he was the sun, but honestly, he was sure that if he looked in the mirrow right now, he'd see himself all but beaming.

"I'm going to jump in the shower," Harry informed him, shrinking his beach chair and umbrella and tucking them into the shelf beside the door. "See you in half an hour?"

He nodded helplessly and Harry smiled back at him before disappearing and leaving Draco to try to get himself together and decide what to wear to the bonfire.

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

The bonfire was actually pretty enjoyable, and it was easy because he was surrounded by their friends and Harry was at his side almost the entire time. His head was pleasantly light from the beer he'd drunk and his mind was drifting along without really fretting over things.

It made him feel a bit out of place, like he was welcome but wasn't really where he was meant to be. Everyone was a bit too loud, a bit too excited to be here drinking.

Without really meaning to, he found himself wandering over toward the ocean and collapsing in the sand. The sun was setting over the waves, turning them brilliant shades of oranges, pinks, and reds. And Draco allowed himself to soak in the colors, to absorb the warmth of the setting sun into his chilled skin. Draco pulled his knees up to his chest so he could rest his chin on them and wrap himself up in a cozy little ball.

He wasn't alone very long when he felt someone join him, Harry's body settling next to his. "Hey," he murmured.

Turning his head, he allowed himself to take in the beauty that was Harry in the setting sun, his skin warm and inviting, curls catching in the breeze. "Hi," he whispered back.

Harry looked over at him and their eyes met, "What are you thinking?" he asked.

"You're really pretty."

His mouth popped open and he blinked at Draco in surprise, like he hadn't ever imagined that Draco might say something like that.

"Sorry," he said uncertainly, not entirely sure how to walk that back into his mouth at this point.

Harry smiled, sweet and a little shy, eyes not quite meeting Draco's, "You don't have to be sorry. That's one of the nicest things-"

"Stop," he laughed. "That is not one of the nicest things anyone's ever said to you!" He shook his head, "I've been at balls and galas that were held in your honor."

"Yeah, but you actually meant it," he argued.

"They did too!"

He huffed, "But you actually know me. They don't, they just wanted to blow smoke up my arse and get me to endorse whatever their latest agenda item is. You don't want anything from me."

"Well, I wouldn't say that," he replied before he could stop himself.

Green eyes twinkled with mischief, "Is that so?"

"Mmm," he hummed.

"What do you want from me?" Harry asked, searching Draco's eyes like he might find the answer there before his gaze dropped to Draco's lips.

"Kiss me," he whispered.

And before he could so much as move, Harry was cupping his cheek in his warm palm and drawing their mouths together. He kissed him softly, sweet little sips that left Draco breathless and clinging to him as Harry bent awkwardly over Draco's knees.

When he pulled back, Draco was light-headed with desire, still clinging to his shoulders, his fingers clenching in Harry's flannel shirt. He nudged his nose against Draco's and let his fingers trail over his neck and arms, "You're cold," he murmured.

"Significantly less so than I was before," he laughed.

Harry pulled back all the way and tugged his flannel off and Draco watched helplessly besotted as he wrapped it around Draco's shoulders. It was still warm from his body and Draco sank into it, inhaling the scent of Harry's shampoo and cologne, and whatever else it was that smelled uniquely like Harry.

"Thanks," he murmured.

He nodded and flopped back by Draco's side, taking in the waves and all the changes the setting sun had made in the minutes just before.

"Can I ask a question?"

Harry turned his head to look at Draco once more, his face open and soft in a way that Draco could become rapidly addicted to.

"What's your tattoo?"

At that, Harry grinned at him, a little dangerous and a lot tempting, and Draco just knew he was in the best kind of trouble imaginable. "You'll just have to wait and see."

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

July 5: Block Party | July 7: Ice Cream

Read more of my gentle July ficlets

#drarry #drarry ficlets #soft #love #vacation #ocean #crushes #fluff #gentle july #i am back #sorry friends I just really needed a reset.

[peachpety]

come to your senses, draco malfoy

A mere glimpse of ridiculous dark curls and Draco's heart rockets into his throat.

Every bloody time.

In the Great Hall. At the pitch.

The 8th-year common room offers no respite—Potter lounges, carefree.

Stupid Potter and his dimpled, snaggle-toothed smile.

Oh, how Draco longs to smother it with his mouth.

* * *

to be continued

a chaptered microfic ficlet, part 1 of 7 written for @microficmay - 50 words 01 may prompt - yearn week one sensory challenge - sight

Part 2 →

READ ON AO3

#microficmay2023 #drarry #drarry microfic #draco x harry #a chapered microfic ficlet #50 words #nifty fifty #peach writes #come to your senses draco malfoy

[teledild0nix]

There was a sour sort of smell in the kitchen, like unwashed dishes. It took him a moment to spot Harry. The little dove was roosting on top of a kitchen cabinet, head pulled toward his shoulders in an attitude of repose.

"Oh hello," Draco said in a low voice, as if he really were talking to a turtle dove. "There you are. Sorry to intrude. I er. Heard you were rather poorly and might want someone to look in. I'll go if. If you'd rather." Without exactly meaning to, he'd raised his arm out to offer his hand for Harry light on.

After a moment, Harry fluttered down from the cabinet and landed on Draco's proffered hand, gripping at Draco's palm with his tiny claws to get his seat. When he was settled, he cocked his head and looked up at Draco with first one bright black eye, then the other. Draco looked steadily back at him.

He wasn't sure how he knew he'd gained Harry's permission to stay, but he was certain he had.

Draco cleared his throat, "Well erm. Excuse me being such a forward guest, but I suppose I may as well make myself useful, as you don't seem in the mood for a chat." He passed Harry carefully to his shoulder, then went to the sink and filled it with steamy, sudsy water, and did the washing up.

----

Excerpt from my new ficlet The Tune Without The Words. Get the rest of the story on AO3!

#hp #drarry #liddy's ficlets #apliddell #hjp #draco malfoy #animagus harry #Drarry fic rec #hp fic rec

[phoebe-delia]

When The Fire Is Out

For @drarrymicrofic prompt: embers.

Harry knows his back will be killing him tomorrow. Lying on the floor this long cannot be good for him. Plus his arm is starting to tingle where Draco's head currently rests, slightly cutting off blood flow. Harry wants to move it, but he can't bear the thought of Draco's head lying on the floor, or worse, Harry accidentally waking him up.

He curls into Draco instead, careful not to jostle him, and eyes the glowing embers in the fireplace. When the fire is out, Harry thinks as his eyes fall shut, I'll take us upstairs.

Harry wakes the next morning, still on the floor in front of the fireplace, back aching. He looks at Draco, messy-haired and clinging to Harry in his sleep, and smiles before falling back asleep.

#drarry #draco malfoy #harry potter #draco and harry #harry and draco #draco x harry #harry x draco #draco/harry #harry/draco #draco malfoy and harry potter #harry potter and draco malfoy #draco malfoy x harry potter #harry potter x draco malfoy #hpdm #drarry squad #drarry microfic #drarry fic #drarry fanfic #drarry fanfiction #drarry ficlet #drarry drabble #drarry fandom #hp fic #hp fanfic #hp fanfiction #hp fandom #harry potter fandom #harry potter fic #harry potter fanfic #harry potter fanfiction

[lqtraintracks]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Explicit| Words: ~450 Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Additional Tags: Wedding Night, Drarry Husbands, Blow Jobs, Mention of - Freeform, Anal Sex, POV First Person, POV Draco Malfoy Summary: What it says on the tin! I'm sorry the title is so shit, and now the summary is shit too lol, but seriously, it's... their wedding night. A/N: I'm sick. :( And what's bonkers is that this is the first day in a long time that I've gotten the Drarry writing bug! So, I am double-bugged today. Phoebs!!!! @phoebe-delia you sent me such amazing prompts! This one snagged my brain today and wouldn't let go. Thank you so much for the inspiration; I hope you enjoy it, darling! ♥

#new ficlet #drarry ficlet #my fic #for phoebe

[ellorypurebloodculture]

Hey Ellory! For FSF: Draco/fem!Harry maybe?

Hi Pages! 😊

****

Lady Harriet Potter saunters over to the Slytherin table, mischief bright in her heart, and casually drapes herself all over Heir Draco Malfoy. She nuzzles her cheek against his, biting back hysterical laughter as he flushes a brilliant shade of pink; the pointy-faced prat is never more handsome than when he's flustered.

"P-Potter, what are you doing?!" Draco squeak-stutters.

She smiles at him and removes a gold and ruby hair comb from her pocket, deftly sliding it into his blond hair with a smirk worthy of a Slytherin as she says, "Offering you the traditional first courtship gift of a Potter, Malfoy; will you accept?"

As Draco wordlessly splutters, turning almost Potter-Crimson in the process, Heir Theodore Nott snorts and drawls, "Oh, he accepts all right."

#ellory writes #five sentence ficlet friday #draco malfoy/female harry potter #drarry