Fluff Fanfiction - Tumblr Posts

𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝗯𝗶𝗿𝗱𝘀 𝗮𝗹𝘄𝗮𝘆𝘀 𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴.

Fandom: Stardew Valley

Pairing: Shane X (M!)Reader

Genre/type: Fluff.

Word count: Around 700. (feel free to request more!)

Author’s note: This was requested by @nihilistic-nik a while back - check it out on my Ao3!: https://archiveofourown.org/works/

It's technically M!Reader but it's only briefly mentioned and is pretty much irrelevant.

Summary: A warm, comfortable morning with Shane, sheltered from the rain.

TW: Brief mention of nightmares.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/45859960

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Cold rain. Warmth.

A rhythmic musicality commences, its origin being from the rain pattering against the windowsill to your left. The sooty grey curtain is slightly drawn, shielding your eyes from the brightness of the outside world, allowing you to fully immerse yourself into the comfort and warmth of your duvet; to prevent you from worrying about anything but the moment itself.

A stubbly arm extends from behind you, and snags you by the waist, pulling you closer. He grunts as though there is something stuck in his throat, his hoarse voice vibrating and his warm, beer infused breath warms the nape of your neck. “Morning…” he says with a rough yawn, and you sense that he is on the verge of drifting off into another peaceful slumber.

You turn to face him. It’s too dark to make out anything but his swollen eyes. Last night was a rough night for him; he has nightmares often, so he asked if you could accompany him. As his boyfriend, you felt obliged to agree, not only for his own benefit, but because you secretly love moments like these. Waking up and feeling the presence of the person you love.

The alarm clock resting on the cabinet beside you jolts with such vigour, it shakes the entire bedside table. It beckons you to release it from its duty, and you do so, your arm stretching out from the cosiness of your sheets, to aggressively whack the hell out of its stop button. You sit up, now awoken by your own force. You know you won’t be able to rest anymore, so you rise, but you feel a hand pull your wrist, but not aggressively…sweetly. Gently.

“Please…stay” his entire face is now unveiled from the constraint of the clean white sheets, revealing a tranquil smile. One that took you many months to weaken his guard for. One you would pay any amount of money for. One you would pay the world for.

“Wait…let me make breakfast first, i’ll bring it back here, yeah? Breakfast in bed.”

He responds, but only with a “mm”.

You get up from the bed and make your way to the kitchen.

Opening the fridge, a draft emerges from the chilled interior, making you shiver. You reach for the carton of eggs when you feel something being wrapped around your shoulders. Shane’s hoodie.

“I couldn’t wait. Sorry.” He says, running circles into your back with his palms. He takes a seat on the barstool at the kitchen countertop, and watches you as you make him eggs on toast.

You crack the eggs. These eggs were the ones that you and Shane had collected from the pen. It’s a good memory; you tripped over a hay bail and went flying into Shane’s arms. He laughed. He laughed…You’d never seen him so happy. So free.

You pour the yolk and the white into a frying pan, and fry it until the edges are golden and crispy. Using a spatula to raise the egg onto his plate, you serve him first. His eyes light up, but not because of the food being presented to him, but because of the smile on your face. Joy ricochets off the creases of your lips, and you feel tears form in the ducts of your eyes.

“What’s…wrong?” he asks.

“I’ve just… never been so happy.” You say.

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End author’s note: Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it <3

but "just friends" don't look at each other like that

pairing: Hyunjin x fem!reader

genre: fluff, friends to lovers

warnings: none, just a lot of kissing, kinda making out in the end

summary: Hyunjin comes over to help you with your homework, but you end up completely forgetting about it

Hyunjin is a very good friend. An amazing one, something which makes this so much more difficult for you to shut down or ignore your feelings for him.

How can you possibly not fall for him when he's always. Always there for you, with you.

How can you stop thinking about him after he leaves, when he lets you cry on your favorite shirt of his, completely ruining it, telling you it's going to be just fine with that soft, calming voice.

How can you not imagine how it would be like to be more than just friends when he's so, so perfect.

Even his imperfections seem to be perfect and he makes everything look so easy.

You can't help but miss him when he's gone, you can't even stand a day without him being around.

Sighing, you finish your cup of tea, placing it down, when your phone vibrates on the mini table of your living room.

"Hello?" You pick up, not looking at the display.

"Y/n, hey! Are you busy?" Hyunjin asks enthusiastically.

"Hyunjin, hi." You smile. "No, not at all, what's up?"

"Guess what?" He also smiles.

"What?" You bite your lip, a habit you picked up while talking to him.

You love it when he calls you randomly, just when you don't expect it.

"I got some yummy, fancy food. And your favorite wine. Are you free?" He says full of hope to see you again, the last time he saw you last weekend feeling so far away.

You want to scream "yes" in happiness, but then remember you have a homework you still haven't finished and got to study for the next exam too.

"That sounds amazing Hyunjin. But I have so much to study, I don't know how I'll make it to be honest." Your voice breaking, your disappointment and discouragement are obvious to him.

"Hey...it's okay." He knows you're about to cry. He knows you so well even through a call.

"I'll help you study. Then we eat together, what do you say? Hmm?" He suggests.

"Okay but...it's a lot Hyunnie, you better hurry." You let out a small chuckle, wanting to hug him so tight.

"I'm on my way cutie." He laughs silently hanging up.

You smile, spreading your books and highlight pens on the table, as you wait for him.

He always knows what to say or do to make you feel better. To make you feel special.

-

After a few minutes you hear a knock on the door. You rush to open it and reveal a tall, black hoodie dressed Hyunjin, with boxes of food in his hands, along with your favorite Rosé wine.

Your eyes soften at the sight of him, smiling so brightly at you.

You take one of his boxes from his hands and bury your face in his chest, hugging him tight, arms wrapping around his neck.

He chuckles in your hair, breathing in.

You can't help but stand up on your feet and press a light kiss on his cold cheek.

"Thank you Hyunjinnie." You say, stepping aside to let him walk inside your apartment.

"Something is different in here." He notices looking around.

"Yeah...can you guess what?" You smile walking into the kitchen with the food, sitting down on your bar chairs.

"Y/n..." He says in a serious tone as you look at his face.

His eyes light up with a new, completely unknown emotion to you.

"You hung up my drawings...even framed them, really?" The look on his face is so soft, you think you're going to start crying.

"Yeah...I just love your drawings. Also I painted the walls a different color and..." You shrug. "I don't know, I just felt that it really matches it and the atmosphere."

He stays quiet, starring at you for a couple of seconds, but then comes closer to you.

And man, your heart is skipping so many beats at once, is this even possible?

"Hyunjin...if you don't want it I'll put them awa-"

And then, he kisses you.

Places his lips on yours, not even moving them. Just holding them there. When he pulls away, way too quickly by the way, your legs suddenly become like jelly. Heart beating so fast, you fear he can hear it too.

It happened so fast, it was almost like just two seconds.

Your mouth hangs open now, the feeling of his lips still on yours.

When you don't have the power or idea to say something, he apologizes, looking away in shame, his ears and cheeks turning pink.

You think you're going to throw up eventually, the emotions overwhelming you.

"Don't. Don't apologize." You simply say, embarrassment making your cheeks become a bright shade of red.

"I just kissed you, oh God, it's not okay." He panics and you pray he doesn't regret it.

"But Hyunjin. I liked it..." You let out, now looking at the ground. Playing with the rings on your fingers, the long shirt you're wearing, anything.

When you say that he looks at you in surprise almost, exhaling.

"I just...I'm sorry it was so sudden." He pauses. "I'm such an idiot."

"You're my favorite idiot then." You hear yourself say, locking eyes with him for what feels like the first time after the kiss.

He's so pretty, all blushy like that, his lips swollen.

"It means a lot to me." He chuckles. "Also the way you hung up my drawings...thank you." He says looking you in the eyes.

"You're so passionate about the things you do...so delicate. I just find you really..." You can't find the right words to tell him.

"Perfect." You look up and feel your cheek burn like they never did before. Are you having a fever?

His eyebrows furrow together in a soft 'aww' way.

"I find you really perfect too." He smiles, finding your hands, holding them into his big ones.

He smells so good and you suddenly want him close. Need to feel him close.

"Hug me." You whisper looking at the way he holds your hands, brushing over your fingers with his thumb.

"Anything for you." He whispers back and it's so romantic that you can't help but melt into his large arms, and oversized, good smelling hoodie.

You're addicted to him, the way he looks, behaves, the way he is with you, how he smells...you're in love with everything he is.

"I love you." You let out, not caring about anything anymore, because you never needed anyone more than you need him right now.

"I love you too." He places kisses on your head and forehead and you think if you could die from feeling so full of love for someone, you would definitely die on the spot.

Still holding him in your arms, caressing his back, you look up to see him already looking at you.

"Can I kiss you? Just making sure I won't scare you away this time." He laughs, now holding your chin.

You nod, smiling.

Everything seems to be so easy with Hyunjin. It's like you're made for each other.

"The food is cold now." You say sadly after the kiss.

"Really? That's all you care about right now?" He looks at you with one of his judging faces.

"Hyunjinnnn, we have so much to do." You say, fake crying.

"We have timeee." He assures you, sitting down to open the boxes.

You sit down next to him, admiring his side profile.

"I have an idea." You suddenly say, standing up.

You bring some good smelling candles lighting them up, placing two big glasses for the wine on the table too.

"This is so romantic." He compliments, loving every second of it.

You look satisfied with your work and as you see the tteokbokki with extra cheese, your mouth waters.

"Oh God." You groan just looking at it.

"Indeed." He agrees. "Bon Appétit, mon amour." He says in a fake french accent and you laugh it off, saying the same.

You eat in silence, a few things such as "it's so good" and "thank you hyunjin", the only sentences spoken.

When you finish eating he opens the bottle of wine, with a bow.

"For you madame." He pours into the glass with so much elegance you can't help but think again, he really is perfect.

"For the lucky boyfriend." He pretends to talk to someone, bowing again. "Oh wait that's me." He quickly moves on the chair pretending to thank the waiter (who is also him).

You laugh so much your tummy hurts.

He loves to make you laugh, loves to hear your laugh.

"Are you my boyfriend?" You ask as he puts the bottle away.

"Well...are you my girlfriend?" He asks instead, smirking.

"Hyunjin-ah!~" You say tired of the playing.

"Do you want to spend the rest of your life with me? Yes or yes? There's only one correct answer." He smiles like he said the most logical thing on earth.

You raise an eyebrow smirking. "Are you proposing to me, or asking me to be your girlfriend, Mr. Hwang?" You joke back.

"Both." He says with an eye smile.

"Anyways, yes." You shrug, ignoring his comment, drinking your wine unbothered.

He laughs again, and you want to learn lots of jokes to hear that sound again and again.

"Yes to what?" He raises his eyebrows like he's in shock. "Just kidding."

You push his shoulder and smile, while once again admiring his handsome face.

Taking your hand while holding his glass of wine in the other, he leads you to the balcony.

You didn't realize it already got late, but you're glad it did, because you hope he'll want to spend the night with you.

Looking at the night sky full of stars, you decide Hyunjin is still your favorite thing to look at.

Taking the almost finished drink from your hands, he sets it down on a small table next to him, along with his.

He holds your waist closer, pulling you into his chest, holding you close again.

"Don't ask me anymore if you want to kiss me again." You say when he stares at your lips.

He nods, kissing you for the 3rd time tonight, but this is the first time he holds your face, waist, and kisses you so deeply, full of passion.

"You're my favorite person." He whispers in your ear, brushing your hair away from your face.

The wind is blowing, and it's really cold, but he makes you feel so warm, it's insane.

"You're mine too." You say finding yourself holding his face close, putting your lips on his again.

His kisses are like drugs and you end up wanting more of them. More of him. All of him.

You end up kissing on your way out of the balcony. Then on the way to your room and finally on your bed, where it gets more intense.

He kisses you like he never gets enough, just like you.

"You're so beautiful." He says when kissing your shoulders and collarbones, neck and jaw, then lips again.

"Hyunjin." You sigh, throwing your head back, when he sucks on a certain spot on your neck.

"Hmmm." He says satisfied when he hears you squirm under him.

"Oh God, Hyunjin." You exhale, as he presses his knee between your legs.

Pulling his hair, you can't get enough of the feeling of his lips on you.

"What do you want me to do?" He asks, still kissing your neck.

"A lot of things... But for now just please... kiss me more." You tell him, holding his face in your hands.

"Where do you want me to kiss you, my princess?" He seductively looks at you.

"Anywhere, everywhere." You let out, pulling his face closer to yours.

Kissing him, you know that is a thing you'll certainly miss when he's not gonna be around.

"We have time the whole night, love." He whispers.

❤️

𝕙𝕖𝕒𝕥𝕨𝕒𝕧𝕖//𝕕.𝕞

Draco Malfoy

Soulmate one-shot where everyone gets their soulmate's first words to them branded on their skin on their fifteenth birthday.

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: angst, fluff at the end

MASTERLIST

-Ⰶ

What the bloody fuck is wrong with your face?

That was what was written on your blemish-free forearm, available for the whole world to see.

You groaned for the tenth time that day, face flushing pink. No matter how many times you had tried to scribble over the newly formed words with a Spell-O-Pen, the black ink always seemed to vanish when you weren’t looking, seemingly absorbed into the flawless calligraphy taunting you.

What a brilliant start to your 15th birthday.

Your best friend, Ron Weasley, shared your birthday and received his soulmate mark. He started cackling when he saw yours, the wording sending him into stitches. Unimpressed, you pointed out that his tattoo wasn’t located anywhere to the common eye, like the usual forearm marks.

And naturally, Ron panicked, claiming that he would be alone forever. Until you spotted words, scrawled in neat print on his armpit, spelling, And, you are?

That was how you and Ron found yourselves in thick jumpers in the middle of summer, managing to almost pass out during Snape’s lecture because of the heat.

As Snape’s monotone droned on, you began to not only feel unaccomplished but also bored out of your mind, and it was difficult to feel anything other than the scorching heat of your Gryffindor jumper. A slow migraine was starting to develop, and Ron didn’t seem to be having any better luck, with a sopping wet brow line and his pale skin matching his flaming ginger hair.

Yeah, it probably wasn’t the greatest idea in the world.

As you sat there, counting the agonizingly slow minutes until release, an impatient finger tapped your shoulder. You knew it was Ron, but the unbearable amount of stress and heat on your shoulders caused you to ignore your best friend’s hand. You tried to focus on any little thing, the way Hermione’s curls bounced when she scratched on parchment with her quill, or how Harry’s eyebrow twitched when he sneezed as he carelessly sniffed the lacewing powder.

The finger was still discreetly tapping your knee at an incessant pace, and you began to get quite irritated. Couldn’t he get the hint? How was he so unfazed about it?

“[y/n]. I need to itch my belly button.” Oh for goodness sake!

“Hush up, Ronald! Just focus on your work or something.”

A pause. The constant tapping resumed, as if Ron didn’t realize he was doing it and was on autopilot, moving his smaller appendage like the beating of his heart. “I knew we shouldn’t have done something like this. This is all your fault, [y/n]!”

You look up at his strained face incredulously, forgetting about Snape’s lecture. Ron was tapping at your leg forcefully now, and you had quite enough. Pushing him away by his face, you sneered, “This was your idea, Ronald, and a bloody terrible one at that!” you were enraged, how could he blame you on something that was his fault? “Because of you, we are sitting here burning-” your voice was rising incrementally higher, anger at everything; your situation, your bloody soulmate mark, Ron’s impudence, was fueling your words.

Ron’s face was slack, and slowly morphed into a panicked expression. His impossibly red face turned redder still, until he looked like a ripe cherry from a muggle farmer’s market. The bucket load of sweat slipped onto his face from stress wasn’t helping his situation either, and he constantly reached up to swipe the runny liquid from his face with his damned jumper.

You weren’t finished, fists clenched and shaking at your sides. Your anger was completely unreasonable, but the embarrassment of receiving a soulmate mark such as that, of your soulmate berating your face, made you livid. “And I am so sick of-”

“[l/n]!”

Snape towered over the both of you, his beady black eyes searing into your skull. His disapproving frown was etched onto his face, and you gulped, previous anger forgotten. Ron released a barely perceptible sigh of relief that you didn’t hear. You must have not realized Snape was even there, your rage-filled rant attracting the unwanted attention of the other students in the class as they watched you in confusion.

A pregnant pause ensued. You held your breath, hoping the punishment wouldn’t be too painful.

“Fifty points from Gryffindor.” A collective sigh of annoyance arose from the scarlet-clad members of the potions class, as Snape snapped his hands across Ron’s head. If you weren’t put in such a position, you would have laughed. Now you just felt like crumbling to the floor in a heap and bawling your eyes out.

He looked at you again, in confusion this time. “And remove your jumpers, both of you. I don’t want your performance in this class hindered by distracting clothing.”

Your eyes widened. No. No you wouldn’t.

If you removed your accursed crimson jumper, everyone would see your mark. You clenched your fists. This was unreasonable in more ways than one. You’d be known, not as [y/n], the best Gryffindor keeper of your age, but [y/n] the girl unworthy of her own soulmate. A few tears sprang up from your eyes.

Before you knew what you were doing, you sprang up from your desk and stormed out the door, not wanting to spend another moment in the classroom. You ignored Hermione and Ron’s calls, charging into the nearest girls’ lavatories.

You finally let your tears flow, hiding from nobody in the corner of the damp room. You covered your face with your fully clothed arm, not daring to remove the offending cloth to relieve your own body temperature. You would do anything to not see your mark of shame gazing up at you, and you had the uncontrollably odd urge to rip your own skin off.

What kind of person were you, that your own soulmate hated you? You felt pathetic beyond belief, and the thought alone caused you to sob harder. You felt your sweat roll down your chest, a tiny feeling of relief. At least you were out of the sweltering room.

A new anger settled itself in your heart. Something full of self loathing, self hate. Grappling with your tie, you managed to yank it off from underneath your jumper. Throwing it to the ground, you sat dejectedly on the linoleum tiles and cupped your face in your hands.

You were angry at yourself. How could you be so… so ugly that the person you were meant to spend your life with hated your fucking face? The urge grew stronger, and you had the morbid curiosity to claw your face off. At least your soulmate would have a reason to question your appearance then.

Peering up, you looked into the mirror. Mascara tracks slithered down your face like an eroded waterfall, and your hair stuck together, sweat clumping it up. Rubbing your face tiredly, you managed to smudge your eyeliner and strawberry lip gloss. You looked deranged, like you had broken out of an asylum you were imprisoned in for two decades.

The flash or rage came again as you let out a roar of frustration, hands slamming into the sink. The force of your upper body cracked the ceramic, slightly but still noticeable. The sink was crumbling, its old age not doing anything to help its mortality. Splinters of the white material were stuck in your hand, but you didn’t notice. All you saw was your face, and how the reflection of yourself glared into the mirror, as if you could wipe the pain and imperfections from your face.

And it wasn’t even your time of the month.

A squeak of a door from behind you shocked you out of your stupor. Whirling around, you saw a boy with straight platinum blond hair and startling blue-gray eyes. He was about a foot taller than you, and he looked annoyed, eyebrows furrowed as he gazed at your small profile shaking beside the sink.

It was Draco Malfoy.

The boy who had tormented your other three friends, who warned you to stay away from him. He was exactly as they described him, pale, aristocratic, his dark robes contrasting perfectly with his complexion. The green Slytherin emblem was stitched on his robes, and you felt confused by the mere sight of him.

He started forward, pushing past the door. There seemed to be nobody from behind him. He completely disregarded the girl’s bathroom sign and strode towards you, causing you to stumble back in fright.

“What the bloody fuck is wrong with your face?”

Pure white-hot anger shot into your system, making you forget your situation. Rude. “I could say the same about you, you albino mongoose!” You shrieked, moving to shove him away.

As you lunged forward, Malfoy caught your wrists. You gave a startled gasp, the momentum of your shove having thrown you into him. As he steadied you, you looked at your hands.

They were bloody, the pieces of ceramic from the sink having been lodged painfully in your joints. You winced as he scooped up your hands again with a tenderness that you hadn’t felt in a while, not even from Ron.

His long, pale fingers were almost translucent, and you found yourself frowning at them in curiosity. They seemed to be ghostlike, ethereal, a glowing undertone of mother-of-pearl under the masterfully-placed veins. His grip was gentle, as he slipped his grip from your wrists to your tiny fingers.

“No, I meant,” he stroked your palms with his thumb, a strangely intimate move for someone he just met. Besides being fascinated by the boy in front of you, you were weirded out immensely. “Why are you crying?”

You stared up into his stormy eyes. They softened, and he led you towards where your tie was laying, thrown to the ground by your antics. Realizing he wasn’t going to get an answer, he picked it up with his nimble fingers before sitting you down.

Pressing a thumb to his soft lips, his pink tongue darted out to lubricate it. You watched in fascination as he near painlessly removed the shards from your mangled hands. He was skilled, you could tell, his hands dancing across yours to relieve you of your pain. You briefly wondered why a boy as rich as him learned how to heal.

Reaching out with his finger coated in saliva, you winced loudly as he smeared it over the biggest wound on your thumb web. You hissed in a breath, watching as his eyes flicked up to meet yours for a dreadfully long second. His handsome face was set, as he seemed to ask for permission from you.

You gave him a barely perceptible nod. He smiled back. A lovely, caring smile that made your heart thump painfully in your chest.

He then pulled out his wand, a beautifully polished hawthorn one with two rings encircling the bottom. Running it over the wounds, he whispered, “Episkey.” You watched, mesmerized, as the skin seemed to see itself up painlessly, stitching itself together until the aching in your hand disappeared. You were stunned.

“How...” You mumbled, your eyes cautiously scanning your hands for other spots. Malfoy’s spit had vanished too, numbing your thumb web.

“I’m training to be a healer at St. Mungo’s.” You looked up to see Malfoy watching you carefully, kneading out your expression with a soft gaze. Why was everything pertaining to you soft?

“I...see. Thank you.” You seemed to have gained control of your voice. Malfoy smiled.

Then leaned closer.

And closer.

And closer.

Your breathing seemed to have halted in your chest. His breaths were shallow, smelling of apples and mint, a strangely pleasing combination. Instead of the expected pungency of cologne, you were struck with the soft smell of teakwood and pine, an earthy aroma that made you backtrack a bit.

He seemed to hesitate. Then reaching down, he tugged at the end of your jumper, pulling it up.

Oh. Oh no.

“No!” You exclaimed, snapping your newly healed hands to his, halting his movements. You involuntarily ran her fingers over his veins, and shivered. You were reminded of the entire situation in the first place, how you ran out of Snape’s class, had a bawling fest, and…

Met him. You met him.

Of all the days in your life, you had never met someone who struck a chord in you so profoundly after minutes of meeting them. Your body had seemed to memorize him, a strange connection like moths to flames ignited within you.

You looked back up at him shamefully, and found him smiling in amusement. His fingers slipped from yours and pressed against your hot forehead, startling you. Everything he did startled you. His touch was like static on metal to you, his presence was like hot chocolate and warm blankets on a winter day.

And you had just met him. This boy was affecting you like nobody had ever affected you before. Your emotions ran high, and you started trembling when his hands held either side of your face. As if both of you had done this before. Thousand times before. Like it was rehearsed.

He tilted your head, so your eyes met his. A blizzard, a tundra, swirled through his greys. While most saw bleak blue, you saw a paradise in his eyes. The color of steel, reminding you of so much stability. His euphoric eyes gazed at you with something you could only describe as adoration.

“I’m not ashamed, so don’t be.” His words were soft, gentle, like the breeze on a pleasantly chilly day. It took a moment for you to realize he said something, so you tilted your head.

“What?”

“Don’t be ashamed.”

Tilting his head to the left, your breath caught when messy handwriting- your handwriting- was scrawled onto his pale neck. Lifting a shaky hand, you placed it on his sculpted cheek. He released a soft sigh of relaxation, turning his neck further for you to see the tattoo.

I could say the same about you, you albino mongoose!

Wait.

Without wasting another minute, you seized the ends of your jumper and pulled it over your head. The fresh air welcomed you, as you sighed in bliss, throwing your jumper to the side to join your tie. Holding your tattooed arm out for your soulmate- it was so strange to say, soulmate- and watched as his eyes widened impossibly, pure happiness filling his oceans.

He cupped your face, hurriedly pressing his lips to your forehead, cheeks, and nose, peppering sweet packages of love to you, his quest to find his other half complete. His lips felt so right, as if you two had done this a million times. Both your laughters filled the small lavatory, your small arms wrapping around his waist as he nuzzled his face into your soft locks.

“[y/n]...” he whispered, your foreheads pressed together, and your heart almost burst, because nobody in the whole wide world could say your name as beautifully as him, and he was sure he felt the same when you replied, “Draco.” A confirmation. And you could stay with your Draco forever, you knew that, you wouldn’t leave for anything, because you love him, you love him, you love hi-

“[y/n]! My belly button still needs itching!”

You groaned. It would be a long day.