dracoxmalereader

[dracoxmalereader]

Go Home Early

Draco x Male Reader

Context: Draco works in the muggle world at a restaurant because [insert valid reason here] and reader is his muggle coworker that he has a crush on.

Summary: Draco walks into the kitchen only to find his favorite coworker sick as a dog on the clock.

Word Count: 913

“It’s fine, really-” 

“It’s not!” Your supervisor snaps, pressing the back of her hand to your forehead. “We may as well use you as a stovetop with the fever you’re running.”

That’s the scene Draco pushes through the door into. He slows as he approaches the scene, eyes flickering between you and her. You roll your eyes and muffle a sneeze into the tissue you’d just blown your nose with. 

“What’s gone wrong now?” He asks.

Your supervisor clicks her tongue. “Y/N decided it was a wonderful idea to come in sick.”

“It wasn’t that bad when I left.” You reason. Draco steps closer to the two of you as you talk. “I can still sweep floors at least.”

“Walking here in the cold wasn’t going to help! And we can’t have you rubbing your germs all over the broom.”

You scoff and scrunch your tissue into a ball before throwing it across the narrow aisle of the kitchen into an open trash can. Your legs swing, the backs of your shoes tapping idly against the cabinets of the metal counter you’re sat on. 

She prods at your puffy face, pushing it to either side a few times to get a better look at how swollen you are in the cheekbones. You reach for another tissue when she finally lets go with a sigh. 

Draco lingers awkwardly, watching. His brows furrow. Aren’t colds more dangerous for muggles?

“Seems like a lost cause if you’ll be sinking our entire tissue budget,” Your supervisor insists. “You’re better off just going home.”

The defiant whine you let out is half-gone and nasally, finishing hoarse before you’re breaking into coughs. “But what about Daniel, he’ll be-” 

“Go home.” At the mention of your shared manager, she cuts you off with a firm hand on your shoulder. “I’ll take care of it.”

You roll your eyes again but mutter a thanks under your breath regardless. Your eyes scrunch and you jerk through another sneeze. The white of the tissue draws contrast to the red hues rubbed raw into your nose. It’d be adorable if you didn’t have snot running down your upper lip.

“Right,” She steps back from you, turning to Draco. “Drive him home. He’ll just get even sicker if he walks.”

Draco makes a noise of panicked protest, one that falls on uncaring ears as she walks away and out of the kitchen entirely. He turns to look you in the eye.

“You don’t look all that sick.” Draco steps closer to you. He smooths his hands over your hair to hold it back and tilts your head to see your condition for himself; he lets it fall back into place once he’s thoroughly assessed and presses his palms into your skin.

You feel your cheeks heat up a little under the contact. You’re lucky it passes as another unfortunate symptom of your cold. His face cinches in further, concern etching into his features. 

“Suppose you are a little warm, though.”

“It’s nothing serious.” You assure him. His fingers are almost scalding on yours when you reach up to push them away with your free hand. “More importantly, nothing serious enough to warrant an in-house physical.”

His eyes flicker up and down your drained face, fingers itching at his empty pockets instinctively for a wand that isn’t there. If he were back home he’d have fixed this for you by now. 

Worry flares in his chest when you break into more coughing and blow your nose another time, shuddering through a series of full-body sneezes.

You hoarsely complain about the soreness in the skin, and Draco doesn't know if he wants to tell you to shut up for the sake of protecting your strained vocal chords or break the statute of secrecy so you won't have anything to complain about at all.

He swallows around an anxious lump in his throat, trying to remind himself that you aren’t nearly as fragile as his family would have made you out to be. He slings an arm around your shoulder and hoists you to your feet. Can't be that much worse than a curse of the bogies, right?

“Let’s get you home before you collapse.” He insists.

“I won’t collapse.” You chuckle under your breath, wet and snotty. “So dramatic, the both of you.”

“Would you rather I leave you to walk in the cold? I could use a second break.”

You huff in response, muttering a whatever.

You pat down your pockets to make sure everything is still there, stepping out of Draco’s loose hold. Even as your stuffy nose curls on a sneer, you begrudgingly head towards the exit. He lets out a huff of his own but can't fight the fondness that flurries up through his veins.

He follows you out the door with as even an expression as he can manage. When you're both settled in your seats and buckled in, he looks over to see you wiping your nose on your sleeve, a throaty groan of discomfort filling the small space.

As he goes through the motions of starting his car up and wondering what on earth do muggles fix their colds with, he decides it can’t hurt to stop by a store on the way. 

And if he doesn’t know what to get and buys you one of every cough syrup they offer? Well, he at least hopes you’ll keep your mouth shut and not embarrass him at work over it.

An ode to me getting over the plague (a cold) after a century in perilous toil. (like a week with a runny nose)

Yes you have a manager named Daniel. Yes I envisioned him as Daniel Radcliffe. Don't ask me how that works because I don't know. Imagine Draco just hates the guy's guts because he looks like Potter.

This is inspired by a random thought I got while I was overcoming my treacherous and life-threatening ailment:

Draco Malfoy would NOT know how to handle a muggle bf with a cold. That sheltered wizard rich kid would probably think you're about to pass away if he breathes on you too hard because he has no idea colds aren't a big deal for puny weak little muggles even without pepperup potion and counter-curses.

I thought that sign off was cute ^^ I feel so scholarly.

Good Yard,

Woof

Tags: @dyinginpeace @gayaristocrat @siuspider @melancoliaque @esperfraud @joongbin @midwestemosblog @we2222 @ashton-laufeyson @starr-writes @mqzze @itsfitzroyy @pinkb4t @daybreakmistakes @ronaldweasleyhowdareyou @freshfroggy @sadzaslicer

[dracoxmalereader]

Hi! Hope your doing good, miss you lots stinky-butt🫶🏽💋

The haters tried to knock me off my feet. I bit their ankles while I was down there.

[dracoxmalereader]

Cupid's Brew

Draco x Male Reader

Context: Ninth chapter of Intense, which can be found in full on Ao3 or Wattpad

Summary: Draco's far from pleased with the change in potions professors, but he's going into this hoping he can get into Slughorn's good graces. That is, if he can stop getting distracted in class by his cauldron of Amortenia...

Word Count: 392

Draco itched at his collar, loosened his tie with a huff. He supposed a little luck could go a long way in achieving some of his more… intense ambitions this year. 

Pages turn in the new classroom, damp-looking walls and an orange haze from stained sconces blurring out the cold of the space. Despite his newfound displeasure at the change in potions professors, the promise of liquid luck was more than enough to persuade him towards effort. 

Draught of living death, huh? He’d been much too busy skimming the recipe to care much for where Crabbe and Goyle were dragging him. 

As everyone else situated at a table, Draco instead found himself sandwiched between his friends. Crabbe snickered over the bubbling of a cauldron. Of Slughorn’s cauldron, more accurately - one of two set out for his introductory demonstration.

“C’mon, Draco,” Pansy said, urging him towards the pot. Her eyes flickered in surveillance to Slughorn, much too distracted chattering with Potter to notice them. “What d’you smell?”

The Amortentia bubbled thick, and a plume of its steam spiraled into the air before him. He scoffed. “This is a load of bollocks.”

Pansy smacked the back of his shoulder. Goyle made a mocking sound. “What, afraid you might get a whiff of Potter?”

Draco blanched. He grumbled and leant over the winding steam, if only to prove Goyle wrong. He’s not sure what he expected, but it sure as Merlin wasn’t as overwhelming as what he got.

His skin prickled breathing it in, a warmth settling where his fingers go fuzzy at the nail. Books, rosin, mud on carriage wheels down the path to Hogsmeade Station…

He paced himself with a stuttering breath as he stepped back away from the cauldron. He coughed, the aroma of heat-fogged train windows and greenhouse three on his breath. It’s unbecoming, how clumsily he reached up to rub the remainder out of his nose. 

Crabbe and Goyle devolved into sadistic laughter at his plight. Slughorn was, appropriately, unamused. Pansy rolled her eyes as he shouted at the lot of them to find a table and get to work.

If only the process of brewing a draught of living death weren’t so tedious, he thought to himself. Maybe the steeping scent of you in his lungs would have made his loss of the liquid luck to Potter more palatable.

What's up crickets. Sorry I vanished for eight months, I graduated high school but the opps got me anyway. Yard, I'm back and bangin'.

I've been trying to get over my fear of Choo Choo Charles for the last month. Given that I live a two minute walk from a bunch of train tracks, hearing blaring train noises at butt'o'clock in the morning when I'm terrified of Choo Choo Charles - or more accurately, the roblox knock off, Edward the Man-Eating Train - has been ruining my life.

Many nightmares. I still haven't managed to beat Choo Choo Charles without taking several breaks to go bother my sister about how scared I am.

Tell me if there are typos, I've been awake all night and day so I might not have caught them all in editing. <3

Tags: @dyinginpeace @gayaristocrat @siuspider @melancoliaque @esperfraud @joongbin @midwestemosblog @we2222 @ashton-laufeyson @starr-writes @mqzze @itsfitzroyy @pinkb4t @daybreakmistakes @ronaldweasleyhowdareyou @freshfroggy @sadzaslicer

[dracoxmalereader]

Hello again

This is kinda personal for me can you maybe do a high school au where reader is a drama nerd and Draco a jocks and after the show he was in (idc which one) some boys harass him physically and Draco there to protect you, and they share a little make out session

Encore

Draco x Male Reader

Context: Muggle!Everyone, nomag AU, Draco and Crabbe and Goyle are jocks and you're a theater nerd.

Summary: You've been looking forward to your months of dedication paying off, and you're proud of the work everyone put in to make the show happen. That being said... is it so much to ask for to play a part in peace for once?

Word Count: 856

“Just waiting on my ride.” 

You wave goodbye to the last of your castmates, watching them nod back at your reassurance and leave for the exit. You lean back against a locker-lined wall, twiddling your thumbs behind your back to stave off boredom. 

Guttural snickering worms its way down the hallway towards you. Goyle’s big head makes itself known in the shadows. 

You watch for a couple moments as he lurks closer, Crabbe emerging from the same curtaining darkness right behind him. They bring their obnoxious cackling with them. You roll your eyes and let out a sigh. How do they always find you?

“Right, what’s this we have here?” Goyle’s face contorts into an ugly smirk at Crabbe. 

“Don’t you have better things to do?” You groan.

It falls useless in the rising volume of Crabbe and Goyle’s cruel laughter, and before you know it you’re being pushed around. Goyle yanks you towards him by the collar of your shirt just to shove you backwards into Crabbe’s open palms.

“What are you imbeciles doing now?” 

Draco’s voice has Crabbe and Goyle turning towards him. He stomps down the hallway, his stance wide. Your heart beats a little faster at the sight alone.

“‘Bout time you showed up.” Goyle snickers.

“We’re taking the piss out of this knob jockey-”

Draco interrupts Crabbe. “Like he’s worth any of your time.” He barks, grabbing your arm when he finally gets to you. “Piss off, yeah?” 

With a sneer at Crabbe and Goyle, he’s tugging you away. The two bullies incessant yapping fades. Goyle bellows something about Draco taking the fun all for himself. 

It doesn’t halt him in the slightest, his hand steady, pulling you down the dark corridor with practiced confidence until you’re swallowed by the shadows and pushed into a stairwell. 

The side exit below the stairs casts a glow from the parking lot. It bounces off Draco’s face where you both come to stand, giving the grey of his eyes a bluish tint. Tense silence fills the air between you; Draco crosses his arms. 

You mutter, “Thanks.”

He wastes no time in getting to the point. “Why do you let them push you around like that?” 

“They’re your friends.”

“And you know I think they’re a set of complete wankers.” His brows pinch inwards. “What would you have done if I hadn’t come down the hall? Just let them do anything they want to you?”

Your eyes are rolling before he even finishes his sentence. You opt not to respond, looking away and watching some car pull out of the parking lot outside. 

He scoffs. The sound of his shoe has an echo when it hits the floor with his step back, gaze trailed on your face. After a moment of quiet, he sighs. His arms uncross. 

“Wimp.” He says, almost fondly. 

“That’s why I have you to protect me, right?” You levy a smile at him, looking to ease any lingering awkwardness. “Scary dog privileges and all that.”

He chuckles, a grin tugging at the side of his mouth. “Damn right.” 

Then he’s stepping closer again. One hand comes up to tug on the tie of your costume, fumbling to undo the knot. It slips from your collar and he stuffs it in his own pocket for safekeeping. Your eyes meet again.

“You look ridiculous in this, by the way.” His one-sided grin refines to a smug, teasing jeer. “Like purple Potter.”

“It’s Professor Plum, you nitwit. Were you even watching the show?” You laugh.

He reaches up to pull the round-framed glasses off your face. “I was more focused on how I was going to get these bloody things off you.” 

He doesn’t offer the glasses the same courtesy as the tie, letting them fall to the floor. The complaint that bubbles in your throat about dropping props dies before it reaches your tongue. Draco’s hand snakes around to the back of your neck and he presses his lips to yours. Can’t argue with that. 

You tilt your heads in unison, noses brushing past one another. His breath puffs out his nostrils onto your upper lip, and you can’t help but laugh, smile breaking the kiss. He pulls back, hand leaving your neck. He bends down to pick up the glasses.

“You still driving me home?”

He hands the frames to you. “As long as you don’t put your dumb music on again.” He chuckles again.

Your smile widens. “Come on, you know it’s growing on you.”

He rolls his eyes, but the smirk that his face has settled into doesn’t falter. His hand grabs yours and he tugs you towards the door, pushing it open and holding it with his foot so you can go first.

You tuck the prop glasses into your pocket as the two of you are walking through the parking lot. You take your seats in Draco’s expensive car. When the engine revs, your eyes meet in the internal mirror. You wink, and a breath of laughter blows out of him.

After that, well, it’s not hard at all to talk him into putting on your “dumb music”. 

So sorry this took so long, I hope it being the first ever mouth kiss on my blog makes up for it. </3 This was so fun to write it was mwah chefs kiss. First ever non-hogwarts AU here, too.

I hope it's okay that it wasn't really a makeout makeout, I simply don't trust myself to write that in a not horribly wattpad-esque way.

I hope all of y'all crickets got to enjoy the eclipse today. 😎 Fear not if you didn't, I took many a picture both through my eclipse glasses and not. I didn't get the total total eclipse though, it was only 90 something percent covered where I am. Don't make fun of the grain, I have a pixel 3.

Tags: @nowayisthistakenyet @gayaristocrat @siuspider @dracoshusband @skrunklespoingo @esperfraud @joongbin @midwestemosblog @we2222 @ashton-laufeyson @solas-things @mqzze @itsfitzroyy @dolly-dollar @pinkb4t @daybreakmistakes @ronaldweasleyhowdareyou

[dracoxmalereader]

In Every Universe

Draco x Male Reader

Context: My normal Huff!Reader during 5th year <3 I imagine it's very close to winter break, but I guess it could also be read as taking place right after.

Summary: Things have been tense since Draco's made a habit of putting his position in Umbridge's good graces above you, but maybe not all's lost.

Word Count: 877

Dewy grass smushes under you, wetting your fingers and the backs of your pants as you both sit down with a thump. 

The moon hangs high, clouds reflecting off the dark water of the great lake. Wooden bridges cut through the stillness alongside the muddy seaweed that floats just under the surface. Slushy, freezing air bites at your nose. You sniffle.

Even if Draco had guaranteed you impunity on account of his place in Umbridge’s squad, a prickling static of anxiety jabs at the inside of your chest. You’re hesitant to be out here.

Tension settles over the atmosphere between you. Your chilly knuckles lock together under a temperamental sky. Fixing your gaze on the pillows of gray that roll to cover the stars, you try in vain to lose yourself in the humid winter breeze.

Draco lets out a sigh before falling backwards, cringing at the mud that meets his back, but settling nonetheless. A cold puff of air clouds from his nostrils. You watch it disperse before you follow, laying beside him

“About time we got an hour or two to ourselves,” He says. “‘Course we could have more if you still came to quidditch.” 

The snark in his tone isn’t lost on you. “Draco.” You groan, a warning.

He rolls his eyes. Your grip on each other’s hands loosens, and he traces gentle shapes on the expanse of your palm, shapes you can barely feel through the bandage. His eyebrows draw inwards, fingers stilling over the fabric.

The concern you’ve been aching for pulls at his features; too little too late. Nerves pang in the back of your throat. You’re already strung tight.

“What’s this from?” He asks.

“Don’t worry about it,” You can’t help the retaliation that oozes around your words. “It’s not like it matters.”

Draco sighs again. “Don’t be like this.” 

“It’s whatever, really.” You assert. 

His forehead wrinkles, expression morphing to something more peeved than worried. It’s hard to wrench your gaze away from the sneer that his face cinches into. 

“Let’s not argue, yeah?” You audibly swallow as you say it, taking a shaky breath. The cold burns your throat. “Let’s just… watch the sky or something.”

Draco huffs and rolls his eyes. He shimmies in place, but doesn’t reply. Awkward silence swells before it ebbs into the icy whistles of the wind. Conflict drains into the muddy, chilled grass below you.

Watching the stars pass the two of you by, your usual playfulness creeps back into the atmosphere. You squeeze his hand in your own once, twice, then you’re raising an arm to point his attention to the constellations.

“There’s Draco.” You tell him.

“Don’t suppose that one’s Y/N, do you?” He points his own finger at the spoonish belt of stars in the valley of his namesake.

For the first time in a while, a genuine laugh filters out of you. “I thought you told me that one’s Ursa Minor.”

“It’s overdue for a name change." 

You turn your head to look at him, cheeks aching with the force of your grin, only to find him already staring. Your eyes meet, and he’s smirking at you. It’s as if you’re the only two people in the world.

Butterflies swarm in the pit of your stomach. You suck in more of the winter around you. Frost nips at the insides of your lungs, but you can’t find it in yourself to mind. You lick your lips and open your mouth to speak. It takes you a moment to find your words. 

“Do you think we’re together in every universe?”

Draco’s expression hardens, clearly thinking. The swarm of butterflies in your stomach slowly glacier over and succumb to frostbite. Your own smile falls with it, focus flickering around his face.

His tongue juts out to dampen the blow. Pressure compresses your organs and it feels like there's no room for them in your body.

After a tense breath, he answers. “No.”

“Oh.” Your throat bobs around a thick swallow. 

Weather be damned, warmth boils in the back of your eyes. Your brows pull in. Fingers loosen until your hand is slipping away from his. Draco doesn’t give you a chance to turn away before he’s grabbing it back, holding it tighter than he has in weeks. He leans up to look you in the eye.

“But,” He starts on a gasp, “We’re together in this one, and isn’t this the only universe that matters anyway?”

He says it like it’s built on the back of a last breath. It pierces through the goosebumps on your skin to sink in further, melting into your bones. Your face heats up.

A gust of air sends his hair swooping in an unkempt direction. Somewhere in the lake, a fish or mermaid sends ripples to the surface. A chuckle crawls out under the roof of your mouth.

You squeeze his hand like your life depends on it. In some other universe, there’s no winter chattering your teeth. In some other universe, there’s no bandage on your hand. Maybe there’s one with no Dolores Umbridge at all. 

But, you suppose, watching Draco angrily fix his hair and curse the wind under his breath: this is the only universe that matters anyway, isn’t it?

My most heavily edited cover to date, I swear I didn't mean to make it as twilight-esque as it turned out. TT blame the color filter on my laptop.

I solidly believe I should have waited until after the eclipse to write and edit this stuff because the pictures I took of the sun would body on a cover. I'll attach them to my next one probably.

Tags: @nowayisthistakenyet @gayaristocrat @siuspider @dracoshusband @skrunklespoingo @esperfraud @joongbin @midwestemosblog @we2222 @ashton-laufeyson @solas-things @mqzze @itsfitzroyy @dolly-dollar @pinkb4t @daybreakmistakes @ronaldweasleyhowdareyou

[dracoxmalereader]

detective themed dividers

source▪️f2u (please don't claim as your own)

requested by anon

[dracoxmalereader]

-

Water dividers

[dracoxmalereader]

HELLOOOOO 😁😁😁

I request that you PLEASE PLEASE PLEASEEEEEE continue making chapters to the Intense series PLEASEEEE 🙏😩 I'M BEGGING ON MY KNEES (not really lmao) PLEASE 🙏🙏🙏

anyway slay ALL day pookie 🫶🫶 😘

Tempermental

Draco x Male Reader

Context: Yes I know the title is misspelled. No I don't care. Why is there an 'A' in temperamental? I refuse to endorse that. Here's the eighth chapter of "Intense" which can be read in full on Ao3 or Wattpad

Summary: Draco's entirely too satisfied with himself having knocked that scarhead down a couple pegs in the train car. What a peculiar coincidence he just so happens to bump into you...

Word Count: 695

The train door clutters shut behind him. Draco steps onto the platform of Hogsmeade station. 

Anger lingers in the breath he lets out, rolling his eyes at nobody in particular. He takes a moment to scan his surroundings, not quite thoroughly enough as he rounds to his right and a body slams into him. Somewhere in the distance, a nightingale echoes a trill into the wet air.

“Watch where you’re going, prat.” He barks, instinctively shoving the weight away from him. 

“Hello to you, too, Draco.” Your familiar voice makes his lungs stutter in his chest.

He swallows the lump of guilt that bubbles up the back of his throat, watching you wobble to stability. He fights the urge to reach out and steady you himself.

You brush his shove off the front of your clothes, and Draco looks you up and down. His sneer etches deeper into his face even as his heart picks up. A bag, cartoonishly large, weighs you down on one side. Book-shaped indents show through the fabric. How scholarly.

Your teeth catch a gleam of light from one of the lanterns, pointing a smile at him. It makes him want to kiss it off you. An uncomfortable wriggling under the skin of his arm unsettles him, makes him clench his left fist until his knuckles curl up past the hem of his sleeve. He reaches over to tug it further down.

“Dreadful summer you’ve had, no doubt.” You say. His frown deepens, brows tilting in. He decides that Potter isn’t the only subject that sounds bad in your mouth. “It’s all over the papers. You alright?”

“Chuffed.” He sarcastically huffs. His lips curl up around it as he speaks.

An amused puff of air files through your nostrils, your smile closing around your teeth. He internally mourns the sight of them. The tension in his chest settles into background noise, sparks popping to life against each of his individual ribs. Your hand reaches out to him in his peripherals.

He’s almost giddy for the contact, but another pang of white-hot pain swells in the ink that’s etched into his arm. He panics as your fingers creep around the fabric now dwelling at his wrist. With a scared breath and the quiet snag of your nails on fabric, he jerks his arm away. 

You break the eye contact he hadn’t realized he’d been lost in to glance down and then back up again. Your eyebrows draw tight, one quirked up in confusion. Your smile falls. Draco feels his face heat up; sweat prickles at his pores. 

Your hand lingers awkwardly in the space between the two of you. Part of him wants to reach out and grab it, lace your fingers together and feel your palms on his, only the more apprehensive of him nudging the urge to dormancy.

A smaller, more fragile part feels like he’s fourteen again. The last of his oxygen leaves his body when your eyes meet for the second time.

Thick silence hangs in the air, but then your fingers are rerouting themselves higher. He lets his arm fall back to his side, subtly trying to hide it behind himself. Your fingers brush up and slip under the lapel of his jacket. Draco feels like he’s swallowed his own tongue.

“I’ll see you around, yeah?” You say it as the playful grin creeps back onto your face.

For a moment, he forgets he’s been given any task to complete this year at all.

He nods dumbly in agreement, head swimming when you back away from him. He hadn’t noticed when his face had relaxed, nor when his mouth had started to hang open, but he sucks a shaky breath into tight lungs and forces it closed as you turn away.

The airiness in his diaphragm filters out as the memory of his mission this school year comes back to him. He waits until you’re weaving into a fog-marred group of other Ravenclaws before he lets himself breathe out. 

Standing there, watching you go, even as dread boils in his stomach; all he can bring himself to coherently think is: Merlin, I’m so in love with him.

Hope you enjoy your request pookie. You've all no idea how many rough drafts it took me to figure out where to go with this story. TT

Happy international women's day. Shout out to my mom and my sister and my best friend for being women. And any of you guys that are women and are reading this. I don't know why you're reading male reader fic if you're not a male reader but a reader is a reader fr. Good job being women, that shit is NOT for the faint of heart. Or so I'm told.

Working through my requests, but the brunt of my graduation project that's left is mostly waiting for people to email me back, so I shouldn't be as spotty as I've been. 18 days left until I have to present, lets get this bread (diploma).

Tags: @nowayisthistakenyet @gayaristocrat @siuspider @dracoshusband @skrunklespoingo @esperfraud @joongbin @midwestemosblog @we2222 @ashton-laufeyson @0-alastair-0 @mqzze @itsfitzroyy @dolly-dollar @pinkb4t

[dracoxmalereader]

◦˚~ B&W SWIRLY DIVIDERS by enchanthings ~˚◦

white divider:

Info: these were all made by me. please reblog/like if using.

[dracoxmalereader]

Remember all you. THIS is the post that triggered Rita's ban.

[dracoxmalereader]

Right, considering the current state of corporate politics on this site, and that it seems that only those affected seem to be actively speaking on the matter, it is up to I, the only fucking cishet on tumblr, to drag this out to a wider audience.

REBLOG IF YOUR ACCOUNT IS A TRANSFEM SAFE SPACE.

We need to show these higher ups how much we truly value them.

[dracoxmalereader]

Could you maybe do artist!reader please? Where reader misplaced his sketchbook and Draco finds it and is filled with amazing drawings and a full spread just dedicated to Draco. The reader finds him looking at the sketchbook and reader gets all embarrassed thinking Draco had stolen it just to make fun of him.

Thank you!

Picture Perfect

Draco x Male Reader

Context: Early fourth year Draco is what I had in mind when reading this, but it could be read as anything a before or a little after it, and they're seatmates in transfiguration. Reader can also be read as any house. I took a little liberties with the concept, so the reader leaves the sketchbook behind at their desk instead of losing it. Sorry if it doesn't do the concept justice, I was having a hard time figuring out how to arrange it and still have them interact dynamically without making it a multi-chaptered story, which I figured would be a drag to read. </3

Summary: Draco just wants to know what's got you lost in that book of yours chucking glances at him. Leaving it behind at your shared desk like this is... well, what you won't know won't hurt you.

Word Count: 1445

The scratching of your pencil is quick to pull Draco from his concentration. Your fingers tug it back and forth over your paper, and he watches from his peripherals as your eyes flicker between him and your book. 

He turns his head, craning his neck to see, only for you to hunch over it. Your arm blocks the page from his view. The sound of McGonagall’s long-winded explanation of a color-change charm fades into background noise. 

“What are you doing?” He asks, voice a hushed whisper. 

“Why are you asking?” You snark in return. Accusation coats your tone. 

He scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Merlin, can’t I be curious? You’ve always got your head buried in that stupid book.” He tries not to let his dejection show.

“Mind your business, Malfoy.”

From across the room, McGonagall clears her throat. The two of you look up to see her staring pointedly at you, unimpressed expression practically radiating an exasperated ‘I’ll wait.’

Draco sneers. He sneakily tries to catch a glimpse of your book as McGonagall continues her lesson, frustration bubbling up in his stomach when you inch farther from him in your seat and angle yourself and the book away.

He turns, leaning his head on his hands and trying not to let your fleeting gaze bother him.

Class draws on. McGonagall sets the lot of you free to practice the charm she’d gone over. Through the corner of his eye, Draco sees your friends lunge out of their seats and come sauntering up towards you.

“L/N!” One of them chirps. You're whisked away by the arm away from your shared desk, barely leaving you time to even close your book, much less take it with you.

Draco’s eyes trail to it, knuckles twitching. He debates in his head his course of action, hands inching towards it for just a second before Goyle lays a startling hand on his shoulder. He almost jumps out of his skin. 

Whipping around to hiss at Goyle, he barks an insult at him. 

“What are you doing? Gonna take a look in that weirdo’s sketchbook?” Goyle snickers, Crabbe and Pansy approaching behind him. “Let’s see it, then-” He steps around the front of the desk, reaching for the book. 

Draco snatches it before he can grab it. “Piss off, you oaf! Last I checked this is your second worst class after charms, no?” 

He narrows his eyes at Goyle, who stares back at him dumbly.

“That’s what I thought. It would do you well to pay attention for once, unless you’d rather all of Slytherin know what a bloody dunce you are.”

Goyle huffs through his nose, and Draco tucks the book into his robe. 

“What’s got you throwing a wobbly, Malfoy?” Crabbe asks. He settles into your chair beside Draco, who’s brows draw tight. 

Pansy leans on the desk in front of him, shifting her weight back in forth in boredom waiting for his answer.

“Mind your business, Crabbe.” The blonde spits back.

They make quick work of the charm. Draco sends Goyle to bring their freshly recolored candles and goblets up to McGonagall for grading as Crabbe and Pansy disperse back to their regular seats. He turns to look behind him, glancing at you where you’re laughing with your friends. 

He watches you raise your wand to the friend that had pulled you away and with a flick and incantation, a vibrant green color bleeds into his hair until there’s none of its original color left. Your face contorts around chest-heaving cackles. 

It tugs at a part of Draco, fondness blooming in the space behind his sinuses. The corner of his mouth lifts up into a smirk of its own volition, and he has to yank himself back forwards before you can catch him staring.

He reaches into his robe, pulling your book out. He runs his thumbs along the sides of it. In the desk beside yours, a ravenclaw he hasn’t had the pleasantry of meeting yet is craning in his seat to try and snoop as well. Draco crinkles his nose and hunches over the book, protecting it from protruding eyes much like you had. 

Shaky fingers slip under the cover of the book and a chunk of the pages. Draco sucks in a breath and holds it as he flips the book open. Smoky, smudged drawings peer back at him. One of McGonagall, one of Crabbe and Goyle when they’d still sat in front of you, some of people he didn’t recognize. The breath leaves him, mouth hanging open behind it. 

He blinks down and turns another page, more drawings and doodles of all kinds plastered over it. Some drawings of hallways and staircases and Filch’s cat on one side, on the other a full-paged view of the great lake from the astronomy tower with tedious fingerprints smudged in the graphite. He gives himself a moment just to admire it, brows high on his face.

His fingers trace it lightly, careful not to ruin its artistry as he turns the page again and feels his face heat up at the sight that greets him. Doodles of him, some close and some far, smattered across the paper. At every distance the detail is admirable, the indents of your pencil visible in every stroke down to his individual eyelashes like he was the only muse you cared to draw so vividly. 

One of him in the tree in the courtyard, one of him with his cheeks puffed up with food in the great hall, one of him booing Potter in the stands at a quidditch game. He turns one more page and catches a brief glimpse of a half-done drawing that he presumes is the one you had just been working on before familiar hands are wrenching the sketchbook away from him.

“What do you think you're doing?”

Draco hadn’t even noticed the chatter of the classroom dying down. McGonagall starts droning on again about another spell she’s assigning for homework, and Draco stares up at your embarrassed expression, face growing impossibly warmer. 

“Well? Do you just think it’s funny to go sticking your nose in everyone’s business?” Your brows are furrowed and you’re red down to your neck, exasperatedly plopping down in your seat. You throw an expectant glare at him. "Just for something to make fun of me for?"

He tries to find the words, but his drying mouth stays halfway open. A strangled croak is all he can manage.

An audible huff funnels through your nose. “Don’t bother, it’s not like I’d expect you to have anything nice to say.”

You finally rip your focus away from him, and your grip on the book relaxes, moving to stuff it into your bag. Draco reaches out to grab your wrist before you can, a tad breathless when your eyes meet again. 

“They’re good.” He whisper-shouts. The compliment feels foreign on his tongue, running on urgency to carry him through it.

“What?”

He tries to keep his tone even, fighting to level his expression. “Your drawings, they’re good.” It comes out in a near-hiss, annoyed repetition not helping him sound less threatening.

“Oh.” Your face cinches in suspicion, but you set your sketchbook back down on the desk regardless. “Thanks.” Your pupils flicker up and down him where he’s still finding the rest of his words. 

“Just,” He starts on a sigh, and your shoulders draw up in fearful anticipation. His hand leaves your wrist. “Get my good side, yeah?” 

He pulls back to strike a poignant pose, chin resting on a loosely balled fist. Awkward silence settles between the two of you. At least, until he sees you cup a hand around your mouth in his peripherals and hears a choked giggle fight its way through.

“Hey!” He yaps, wrenching from his pose, sneer from earlier etching itself back onto him. “Be serious, I can’t have you immortalizing me if I look like I’ve just escaped Azkaban.”

“Immortalizing?” You tease, and he ignores the offense that flares up in his lungs. He maneuvers back into his pose as you're flipping your sketchbook open and twirling your pencil between your fingers. 

“Shut it, or I’ll burn that book of yours next time you leave it so graciously for me to steal.”

You shake your head, still smiling a smile that makes his heart skip a beat. The tip of your pencil taps against the paper, creative gaze washing over him. Another breathy chuckle from you has him considering tattling to his father, but as the sound of scribbling becomes audible another, smaller part of him is too busy wondering if you’d let him draw you, too.

So sorry I said "2 days + an extra day or two to hibernate" and then took a month-long hiatus, I got all my schoolwork done in time and then my graduation project snuck up on me. Finally, I had avoided truancy court by the hair of my teeth, and then I get an email from my counselor saying "You need to get accepted into a four-year college or hand in a letter from an employer stating you are/will be working full-time or you can't graduate"

Behaving like we pay tuition. You're a public highschool that's 20 million dollars in debt be so unequivocally fr. Two years in a row now people have deliberately lit the cafeteria microwave on fire and they didn't even get suspended for it, but I decide I want to chill for a year after highschool and not immediately jump into more work, all of a sudden I'm not allowed to graduate at all.

Someone blew up a toilet last year and the bathroom was leaking sewage for three weeks, not to mention the freshman that broke in TWICE over the summer, smashed a bunch of shit and got caught by police having a fire extinguisher fight on the roof. Y'all should be more worried about what your students are doing IN the building, not what they'll be doing when they're out of it. And that's the end of my tedtalk. <3

I'm getting through my requests, but I'm super swamped with stuff because of the project, so I'll probably still be pretty slow. Sob. Draco Malfoy would NEVER treat me like this. I am just a man, I should be playing League and getting e-kittens, not doing job shadows to graduate.

Tags: @nowayisthistakenyet @gayaristocrat @siuspider @dracoshusband @skrunklespoingo @esperfraud @joongbin @midwestemosblog @we2222 @ashton-laufeyson @0-alastair-0 @mqzze @itsfitzroyy @dolly-dollar

[dracoxmalereader]

Hi, I absolutely love your dividers and headers! I was just wondering if you could make some dark academia/ cottagecore, mushroom type of dividers and headers? 😊

Ohh thank you so much, and love this idea! I think these turned out so cute - I really hope they match your vision! Thanks for sending this in! 💖

———

[Free] Masterlist Headers & Dividers!

Please consider liking or reblogging if you use 💕

[dracoxmalereader]

This is what my laptop sees when I open the school website again to double check my progress like the 150 assignments I have left were gonna do themselves.

Is it even possible to do all of that in the 2 days before the semester ends? Idk but I'm about to find out.

Sorry I haven't posted anything in EONS. If I don't finish all my work by the end of the semester I get more unexcused absences and then my parents will have to go to court bcoz truancy. :P

After the semester ends I will post ✨ and after like an extra day or two to hibernate because I've been averaging 2 hours of sleep a night for like 2 weeks.

I have a request lined up, two separate one-shots drafted, and a bunch of chapters of Intense waiting to be written. So, once the semester ends, I'll hopefully be updating regularly again. At the very least if I don't finish all my work on time, I'll be updating regularly until I get grounded for the rest of time.

I don't want to spoil anything, but I'll finally be dipping my toes into some (whispers) angst.

[dracoxmalereader]

Perhaps a Draco x Hufflepuff Reader?

Hufflepuffs are known for their kindness, so what happens when during a DADA class about Boggarts has Draco using the counterattack on the reader's boggart while reader is frozen with fear?

The reader's deepest fear is of themselves, a dark mark upon their arm, and their wand raised with the red glow of "Crucio"

Mirrored Wardrobe

Draco x Male Reader

Context: It's mostly based on the movie scene, and for this story the reader is stood in line between Parvati and Harry.

Summary: You've been dreading the boggart lesson since you heard through the grapevine it was on the curriculum. Here, in Lupin's classroom, you're not so sure if it was really as bad as you'd feared.

Word Count: 1,106

Lupin sent the lot of the class to sort themselves into line, and you briefly locked eyes with Draco as he shoved past Neville.

Shoes tapped against the floor, echoing in the air of the large classroom. You settled into place. Observing, you felt anxiety pulse in your chest. The sound of the boggart changing forms replaced the sound of chatter as first Ron, then Parvati Patil approached it. 

At the front of the line, you fiddled with the sleeves of your robe at the crack of the monster’s transformation. There it stood: a tall snake that couldn’t have been shorter than twenty feet. 

It bobbed menacingly, baring its fangs and its flickering tongue. It slithered, chest puffed out and head dipping down from where it nearly touched the ceiling to hiss at Parvati. Gasps rang out through the room, just as horrified as they’d been when Ron had the thing turn to a massive spider.

Parvati’s hand tightened at her side around her wand, and she bravely raised it to the reptile, yelping the counter charm. Another pop whipped through the air. 

A clown, just as big as the snake had been, sprang upwards in its place. It bounced and bobbled and the spring that held it in its box creaked with every motion. A jack-in-the-box. 

Lupin praised Parvati’s success and motioned for you to step up.

The clown teetered, tipping back and forth, looming over you. In its eyes you could see your own as the clap sounded out. Its form morphed and contorted until your own wand was pointed at you. 

You stared, wide-eyed at your doppelganger. Its appearance was disheveled, outer robe shed leaving only your vest and shirt with the sleeves rucked up around the elbows.

The brand etched into its left arm was all too quick to catch your eye. The skull taunted you, snake tongue twisted in knots. The last of your breath left your aching lungs and you swore you could see it writhe under the false you’s skin, bubbling like it boiled. 

Terror swelled in the back of your mouth. You swallowed around rising bile. Ice rushed through your veins as the boggart smirked. The goofy music Lupin had put on fell quiet, drowned out by the static in your ears. 

Red sparked at the tip of fake you’s wand, and you watched your own face warp into a sinister expression. Your grip on your real wand loosened.

Waving through the air, a hideous buzz filed through the thundering cloud of red. Your doppelganger’s mouth opened. Your hands trembled. The counter charm clawed at the back of your throat, but sweat pooled at your brow and your fingers failed you. 

Your wand tumbled to the floor with a clatter. 

“Cruci-”

“Riddikulus!” 

Before the boggart could finish the curse, Draco’s wand was pushing into your vision. He barked the charm, stepping in front of you protectively and shoving you backwards with a hand to your chest. 

The boggart crackled, mutating in a cloud of dark and spitting itself back out with a last snap. Your own face still peered back at you. Its clothes had shifted from your regular uniform into an ill-fitting yellow dress. 

A blue robe draped over your doppelganger's shoulders, its hair longer and tied into chunky braids that cascaded down its front. In place of your wand, the boggart now held a golden cup. Helga Hufflepuff, really?

After a moment of tense silence, giggles began to fill the room. Low laughter turned to broad cackling until even you were letting out a dry chuckle at the boggart’s embarrassment through the fading haze of fear. 

The ringing in your ears gave way, and you could hear Lupin’s music again. The tingling in your spine subsided.

"Thank you, Draco." You breathed.

Draco whipped around to face you. Unlike the rest of the class, he was not amused. He bent down to swipe your wand off the ground. He knocked into your space. A firm hand circled your upper arm, and with an almost bruising grip he pulled you to the back of the line. 

Lupin’s startled commentary fell into the background chatter. Harry Potter approached the boggart.

“What was that?” Draco hissed. He gripped onto your shoulders, shoving your wand back into your hands.

“What was what?”

"The boggart, you oaf, the thing I just saved you from."

"You didn't have to save me!" You argued, a twinge of shame prickling behind your ribs. Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy condescendingly side-eyed you.

Draco scoffed, sneering at his friends and turning so he blocked them from your view. “Like hell I didn’t! Why was it a death eat-” 

He was cut off by the insipid, rattling wheeze of the cloaked figure the boggart had wrenched into. All at once, a heavy pressure of despair drowned the air.

You both craned your necks around the rest of the line to see it better, the parody dementor lunging towards Harry in a freakish, unnatural motion. You held your breath. Lupin stepped in front of him. 

The boggart once more crackled and distorted, settling into the dusty image of clouds revealing a full moon. With another utterance of the counter charm, a beige balloon was soaring across the room with a humorous whir. 

It flew back into the mirrored wardrobe it belonged in. The doors swung shut behind it. 

The room fell into a deeper, unbroken quiet. “Sorry about that, er- That’s enough for today.” Lupin rushed out. “If you’d all like to collect your books at the back of the class, that’s the end of this lesson, thank you!”

The swarm of your classmates groaned, and Lupin’s apology fell on deaf ears. Draco turned back to you. Concern flickered in his eyes for just a moment. Tension lingered between you.

Crowd moving, students cleared out one by one. Goyle’s hand came to tug at Draco’s shoulder. Crabbe and Pansy weren’t far behind. He glared at Draco expectantly, and you could hear the sharp intake of the blonde’s breath. 

Draco looked you up and down one more time before scoffing again. He rolled his eyes.

Smoothing down the front of his robes, he rolled Goyle’s hand off him and swayed away. His shoulder rammed into yours as he passed, purposefully weaker than usual. His friends trailed behind him. You watched him go. 

For a few seconds, you let yourself sit in the emotions that surged through you. The last wave of your fear dwindled. What on earth just happened with Draco?

Shaking your head, you let out a confused sigh, before finally moving to grab your books and leave the classroom.

The way I got this request and said out loud to myself "Wait that actually goes so hard". Whoever is anon, your brain is working wonders to have thought of this and I'm here for it. That concept is so incredibly gangnam style I'm HONORED you've selected my inbox of all places to submit it. <3

Also peep me answering the ask with the fic. 🤭 I hope it is a welcome advancement, I was scrolling through other fics and just randomly realized I, too, could do that like everyone else in the tags does.

I'm sorry this took so long, I have 246 missing assignments.

Tags: @nowayisthistakenyet @gayaristocrat @siuspider @dracoshusband @skrunklespoingo @esperfraud @joongbin @midwestemosblog @we2222 @ashton-laufeyson @0-alastair-0 @mqzze

[dracoxmalereader]

[dracoxmalereader]

I was wondering if... 1) requests were open and 2) if you did nsfw?

If not to either/both, that's alright!

My requests are always open !! I adore requests. Just bear with me, it might take a couple days to get to any given request because of school stuff. :P

And I don't do nsfw bcoz I'm 17 😼 and also because I wanna be famous and I don't want my future twitter stans to repost my Draco smut. The kpop idol nsfw I wrote when I was 12 already follows me around like an omen. </3