𓍢ִ໋ ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐂂ִֶָ་༘࿐ 𝒢𝑜𝒹 𝒮𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒱𝒶𝓂𝓅𝒾𝓇𝑒
draco malfoy x reader (~2,300 wc) ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆𖢻
There are easier ways to ruin your life than falling in love with a vampire.
Draco Malfoy simply isn’t interested in them.
Somewhere between the feeding and the kissing, it stopped feeling like a bad idea at all.
(author's note: this song was heavily inspired by the song vampire at the beach by luvcat, please please please listen while you read!)
The apartment always smelled like night.
Not darkness—night itself.
Warm rain on pavement. Cigarette smoke drifting from neighboring balconies. Expensive cologne soaked into black hoodies abandoned on the floor. The metallic sweetness of blood hidden beneath it all like a secret under silk sheets.
You stood barefoot in Draco’s apartment at three in the morning, staring out over the city skyline while a film played softly in the living room behind you.
The television flickered silently at the edge of the room, some old Italian film playing with subtitles neither of you were reading. Women in silk dresses wandered through golden coastlines. Men smoked cigars with tragic eyes. Bodies glowed beneath Mediterranean sun.
“Looks like somewhere you’d belong,” he’d said.
You’d laughed quietly. “Because I’m undead?”
“No,” he’d replied, eyes half-lidded as he watched you from the couch. “Because you ruin beautiful places by making them look ordinary afterward.”
Draco Malfoy looked unfairly beautiful in the dark.
The kind of beautiful that made people angry. White-blond hair falling over silver eyes. Sharp cheekbones. Expensive mouth. Even half asleep, he looked composed, like someone painted him instead of born him.
But you knew the uglier things too.
The loneliness he carried around like a second skeleton.
You leaned against the counter now, listening to the soft hiss of the radiator while thunder rolled somewhere far beyond the glass. The city glowed silver-blue below.
Behind you, Draco shifted.
His voice was hoarse with sleep.
You turned your head slightly.
He was sprawled across the dark sofa, one arm thrown over his eyes, pale hair a complete mess against the pillows. His shirt had ridden up enough for you to see the sharp lines of his stomach, the pale skin marked faintly with your bite scars.
Your chest tightened painfully.
“You should be asleep,” you murmured.
“I was.” He lowered his arm enough to look at you. “Then my vampire disappeared.”
A smile tugged at your mouth despite yourself.
Five years together, and he still said vampire like it was something sacred instead of monstrous.
Most people reacted with horror when they learned what you were.
Draco had reacted with fascination.
“You’re staring again,” he said quietly
Then, soft and terribly calm, “I know.”
Draco’s hand slid through his hair slowly. Patiently. Like he already knew how this ended.
“You haven’t fed properly in three days.”
Your spine straightened up too quickly, jaw tightening. “I can control it.”
“That’s usually what you say five minutes before threatening to eat the delivery driver.”
“I did not threaten him.”
“You asked if his pulse always sounded that loud.”
Heat crawled into your dead face. “That’s different.”
Slow and lazy and devastating enough to ruin entire civilizations.
There was a problem with immortality.
Humans became temporary even when you loved them enough to ruin yourself over it.
The film crackled softly with old music and ocean waves.
You remembered drifting asleep earlier with your head in Draco’s lap while black-and-white light flickered across the ceiling. His fingers had lazily combed through your hair while he scrolled through emails on his phone, occasionally feeding you pieces of apricot from the plate beside him.
Sticky fruit juice on his fingertips.
Your mouth against them afterward.
Everything with him felt decadent.
Like something beginning to rot beautifully at the edges.
You had loved him before you meant to.
Before the apartment. Before the late nights. Before the blood.
You remembered the first time you saw him in university—cold, arrogant, dressed entirely in black designer clothes with silver rings on almost every finger.
You’d thought: He looks like he died young.
Maybe that was why you loved him immediately.
Maybe since the day he told you:
“I think being ruined by you would improve me.”
You leaned down suddenly, pressing your forehead against his collarbone.
“You shouldn’t let me do this.”
“You’re too calm about it.”
Because he did trust you.
And vampires were not made for trust.
But you really hadn’t fed properly in days.
You swallowed. “I’m fine.”
He sat up slowly, rubbing sleep from his eyes before standing. Grey sweatpants hung dangerously low on his hips as he crossed the room toward you.
You could smell him beneath the detergent and cigarette ash. Salt skin. Iron blood. Warmth pumping through delicate veins.
Living things always smelled loudest at night.
Draco brushed his thumb along your jaw.
His amber-gray eyes were heavy with sleep and affection and something darker. Something willing.
The word hit your spine like lightning.
Your fangs ached immediately.
His hand tightened in your hair suddenly, forcing you closer. Not cruel. Just firm enough to make your pulseless body still.
“There’s the thing about loving monsters,” he murmured. “You spend your whole life learning the difference between danger and hunger.”
Your eyes fluttered shut briefly.
“You shouldn’t romanticize this.”
“I’m not.” His thumb brushed your pulse point out of habit, despite the fact your heart no longer beat. “I just know you.”
You opened your eyes again.
The kitchen light painted him gold at the edges.
You wondered sometimes if he understood what he’d done to you.
That was the irreversible part.
You could survive starvation.
You could survive sunlight if you suffered through it long enough.
You thought it might finally kill you.
“You have this hold on me,” you whispered before you could stop yourself.
Something flickered across his face.
You laughed once under your breath. “You’re insane.”
“Probably.” He tilted his head slightly. “But you’re the one dating a man who lets a vampire chew on him recreationally.”
Heat bloomed low in your stomach.
“You make it sound filthy.”
Your fangs pressed painfully against your gums at the smell of him standing this close.
Despite yourself, you laughed.
Draco smiled faintly at the sound. “There she is.”
The hunger clawed through you violently then.
You turned your face away.
The movie on television shifted scenes — women draped over sunlit rocks near turquoise water. Melted colors. Gold skin. Apricots and linen and heat.
You remembered dreaming once.
Before immortality stole proper sleep from you.
Because he made you want things.
You wanted mornings with him. Grocery lists. Shared cigarettes on balconies. His sweaters on your floor. His fingers tapping your thigh in Ubers. You wanted decades.
That was the cruelest part.
“Come here,” he murmured.
You obeyed before thinking.
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
His gaze darkened immediately.
The certainty in his voice nearly undid you.
Draco guided you backward slowly until your hips hit the kitchen counter. Then he stepped between your knees, large hands settling on your thighs.
“You know what I think?” he asked quietly.
You shook your head once.
“I think you’re terrified because you love me.”
His fingers traced absent patterns against your skin.
The hunger inside you twisted viciously.
You could hear his heartbeat.
Your mouth watered painfully.
A faint smile touched his lips.
You made a weak sound in the back of your throat.
Draco guided your mouth toward his throat, fingers threading through your hair carefully.
“You tell me if I hurt you,” you whispered.
“You tell me if you need more.”
His pulse fluttered beneath your lips.
Who knew demons wore Adidas and smelled like expensive laundry detergent?
“You’re staring again,” he murmured.
“Terrible effort so far.”
You moved fast enough that a human wouldn’t have seen it.
Draco inhaled sharply as your mouth found his throat.
The first puncture always felt intimate in a way sex never fully managed.
His fingers tightened reflexively around your hips as your fangs slid into skin.
Warmth flooded your mouth instantly.
Human blood was intoxicating enough already, but Draco’s—
You moaned softly against his throat before you could stop yourself.
“There you are,” he whispered breathlessly.
“That’s it,” he breathed shakily.
The sound embarrassed you instantly.
Draco’s heartbeat just sped beneath your mouth.
Your body softened slowly as the starvation ebbed. The sharp agony in your bones quieted. Your senses stopped screaming. Warmth spread through dead veins that had forgotten what alive felt like.
Your vampire nature wanted consumption.
To take until nothing remained.
But your love for him made you gentle.
Draco tipped his head back slightly, exposing more of his throat as his breathing turned uneven.
You could feel his pulse against your tongue.
Could hear the faint hitch in his voice when you swallowed.
“Christ,” he muttered quietly.
Your fingers curled into his shirt.
You pulled away before the hunger could become greed.
Blood lingered warm on your tongue as you rested your forehead against his shoulder, breathing unnecessarily just to ground yourself.
Draco’s hand stroked slowly down your spine.
Draco exhaled a laugh under his breath.
“You always look pissed off while feeding.”
You pulled away immediately, horrified. “Sorry—”
“There’s blood on your mouth.”
“You’re very sexy right now.”
You wiped your mouth furiously with the back of your hand. Draco caught your wrist before you could turn away completely.
His thumb brushed the corner of your lips.
Red smeared across pale skin.
The sight of it made his pupils darken.
But emotion clogged your throat unexpectedly.
Because of course he did.
“Hey.” His voice gentled. “Talk to me.”
“You shouldn’t keep giving me blood.”
Draco studied you for a long moment.
Then he reached out and tucked hair behind your ear with unbearable gentleness.
His throat bore fresh crescent-shaped marks already beginning to bruise.
“You know,” he said softly, “most people spend their whole lives wanting to be loved completely.”
Draco smiled faintly then.
“And frankly,” he added, “if I’m going to let someone metaphorically ruin my life forever, it may as well be a hot vampire.”
You let out a startled laugh.
“There’s the narcissist.”
“There’s the girl who drank my blood and still somehow thinks I’m the unstable one.”
Because he didn’t understand.
So you stared toward the television instead.
The old film had reached some dreamy beach sequence again. Sunlight spilled gold over beautiful strangers. Everything looked sticky and hot and alive.
Draco followed your gaze.
You were quiet for too long.
“Sometimes I miss wanting ordinary things.”
“No. I want impossible things now.”
His messy pale hair. Sleep-heavy eyes. The fading bite marks blooming against his throat like bruised roses.
You touched his face carefully.
The room seemed to hold its breath around you.
Like he knew loving you would ruin him eventually and had accepted it gladly.
“I knew it the second I saw you,” he murmured.
“That you’d fuck me up forever.”
He pulled you closer until your forehead rested against his.
“You know what the worst part is?”
You kissed him before he could say anything else.
Draco tasted faintly like blood and cigarettes and himself. His hands slid beneath your shirt immediately, cold rings against colder skin, and you kissed him harder when he made that low sound in his throat.
Need curled through you violently.
Draco kissed like he was starving too.
Like he wanted to crawl inside your ribs and live there.
His fingers tangled in your hair while your mouth moved against his jaw, his throat, the fresh bite marks already fading from his skin.
“You’re obsessed with me,” he breathed.
“You literally let me feed on you.”
“Yeah,” he said, smiling against your mouth. “Because I’m obsessed with you too.”
The rain continued outside.
The curtains stayed drawn.
The movie flickered forgotten across the walls.
And somewhere between his heartbeat and your hunger and the blood still warm on your tongue, you realized something terrible.
You would love him long after the world ended.
Long after cities drowned.
Long after his heartbeat finally stopped.
That was the tragedy of monsters.
Not that they drank blood.
It was that sometimes they loved humans sincerely.
And nothing ruined eternity faster than that.
🦌۶ৎˎˊ˗ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶ 𝒽𝒶𝓏𝒾𝑒𝓁𝓁𝑒
(© honeyedprongs 2026 all rights reserved - do not repost in any format, translate, copy my works, or feed my works into AI.)
