#microficmay2023

“You two are like the moon,” Luna said dreamily, sitting opposite Harry and Draco

Draco scoffed. “Cold, barren and distant?”

“No,” Luna smiled. “Silly thing. Every month, your love only grows bigger and bigger. Even though you fight and pretend to break up, the same pattern happens over and over.”

~

Fifty words.

For the @microficmay prompt, “tangible.” Drarry, 50 words. A continuation of this, and this. Because apparently I can’t stop.

“D’you think they know?” Seamus asks.

“What?”

“That the sexual tension between them is practically tangible?”

The duel is evenly matched until, in a flash, Malfoy strikes—knocking Harry flat and straddling him, wand to his neck. Panting, Harry stares at him with naked admiration on his face.

“Why do you love me?” whispered against Draco’s collarbone.

“Your sparkling personality.”

“I’m serious, Draco.”

How did he tell Harry that he was Draco’s entire world, that he made his life worth living? “You’re everything,” he confessed. “Like you were made just for me. A perfect counterpart for my soul.”

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 →

She was scowling down at the textbook and muttering under her breath. He tried again. “Look, we got it right, I’m sure of it -“

“No, Malfoy! Amortentia is supposed to smell different to each person according to what attracts them, and all I smell is your stupid cologne - why you use so much is beyond me.” She huffed and rolled her eyes before returning to the textbook.

Draco stared at her, bemused. “That’s strange. It smells just like how it always has for me, I wonder why -“

“Oh ho!” Professor Slughorn had walked up behind them. “Excellent as always, Miss Granger, Mr Malfoy. Never seen a student produce finer!” He beamed down at them.

Hermione’s jaw fell to the ground. “Wh-what? We got it correct? But we can’t have, it doesn’t smell like this to me…”

“People change, Miss Granger, as does what attracts them, hence why the potion may smell different to you now. Like I said, it’s a spectacular brew, practically perfect. Full marks to both of you for today!”

A Consolation: A Narlily Microfic Series

I’m trying something new! This will be one continuous story with 32 parts updated daily throughout May. It will contain explicit content involving consensual underage sex. Other content warnings for infidelity, canon-typical wartime angst, and mentions of pregnancy. Thank you @nanneramma for infecting me with Narlily brainrot and for being my beta. Go check out her AMAZINGLY SPECTACULAR Narlily microfic series!

You can also follow along on AO3 if you would prefer.

🌸🌸🌸

@sapphicmicrofics day 1 ‘sunset’ @microficmay day 1 ‘yearn’

Sixth year. First day. Sunset.

Bangers and mash, steak and kidney pie. Treacle tart, custard creams, crêpes au chocolat.

Severus stuffs his face. Lucius picks at his food.

Narcissa ignores them all — there is only one thing that holds her attention today.

Red and gold.

Lily laughs across the hall.

🌸🌸🌸

all my @microficmay entries are connected into a larger story. this year i’m shoving harry & draco even further north, to a seed bank in the arctic. previous entries can be read here 50 words. no rating. drarry

“You’re not getting anything for Christmas,” Harry says. “Don’t wait up for Santa.”

“But we’re so close to his house,” Draco replies. He takes a long slurp of cocoa. “Same, obviously.” 

That night, Harry nuzzles Draco’s jawline and whispers, 

“Love you.” 

for @microficmay's prompts: Praise (Day 4) & Climax (Day 14) | Rating: E | CW: Use of religion (catholicism) as kink, Priest Kink, Church Sex | Read on Ao3

“Forgive me father, for I have sinned.” A shaky breath leaves his lips as his knees touch the icy, hardwood floors. 

“To which sin do you apologise for?” The priest, dressed devilishly in black silk, asks. His eyes are whitish silver – as though pure and untouched. 

Pleasure blazes inside of the man who kneels. He parts his lips, and instead of words, forgiveness comes in the form of heated skin against his tongue. 

His breath catches in his lungs as his eyes brim with tears. Blood draws on his palms as he takes in the man deeper. 

A small gasp leaves the priest’s mouth, followed by words rasping against his own throat as he tries to catch his breath. “You are forgiven.” 

The green-eyed man blinks, a smile creeping upon his lips. “Thank you, father.”