Status Updates From Bloody, Slutty, and Patheti...

“Draco,” she murmured, looking down at that white-blond hair.

He hummed in response, his tongue on her.

“You look very pretty on your knees.”

“Oh, love—” He was grinning against her. He kissed her thigh, looking up at her with those icy gray eyes. “Is that the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me?”

…

“I told you to be good—“
“But I’m not good, love. I’m just yours.”

“Let me have you,” he whispered. “You already have me.”

“You care about me?” He was shouting it like an accusation.
“Of course I care about you, you stupid prat!”
…
“Then why do you want them to have matched you with someone else! What’s wrong with me! Why aren’t I good enough!”
A stupid, stupid question—he knew everything that was wrong with him.
…
“I just want to have a say,” she said, her voice small. “I want it to be my choice.”

But if you’d gone to school with my wife, you’d know: That witch likes to fight. And she has never been very polite.”
…
“Gentlemen, perhaps this match should be revoked,” said Ali Khan
…
“No, gentlemen,” said Malfoy, “I’m afraid this is a fight you can’t take from me.”
…
“My wife will stay right where she is. You gave her to me, gentlemen, and I’m not giving her back.”

The Wizengamot gave me a gift. My lovely wartime enemy, under my own roof. Why would I object? Isn’t this what you wanted—for us to fight it out all over again? You only thought we’d be too polite to do it in public. You thought my wife would be a good girl, keep it all behind closed doors, tell the press she was happy to be your pawn. Then you could pretend you hadn’t harmed her.

I want you, love. Tell me you want me too.

*Draco, I want you too.*

“Malfoy,” she said, “that’s a muggle romance novel.”
He looked over at her, an eyebrow raised. “And you think I am sufficiently romantic? I require no further instruction?”
Hermione opened and closed her mouth. “Have at it,” she said finally.

We love a Draco who has great dry humor, edits hermiones work, reads romance novels???, and is an absolute simp when it comes to Hermione. I love it.

He looked up, his face tilted towards the cats, his fingertips poised on either side of [his] head.
“What is going on here?” demanded Hermione. “What are you doing to my cat?”
“We’re just talking,” said Malfoy quickly. “Home from work?”
She watched, aghast, as Crookshanks butted Malfoy’s hand with his head.
“It’s an emotional affair… the beast loves me now.”

Why is this so funny??

Then Voldemort had marked him, Potter scarred him, Azkaban tattooed him — his body a map of his failure, his cowardice, his disgrace. But now she touched him like none of it mattered — like she could see the Mark and the scars and the runes and she only saw permission to make her own claim.

“I know you like using me. I like it too. I’m not sorry it happened — I just want it to happen again. Put me to use, love. Just tell me it’s good for you.”

Malfoy looked amused. “I’m not gay, love. I’m a slut.”

I just guffawed😳😂

“My jealousy is tireless when it comes to you.”

…

“Can I have it? If I’m good?”
“I don’t think you could be that good.”…
“Let me try, love. Let me… you can punish me if I’m not good enough.”
“You’ll never be good enough for me, Malfoy.”
.. “…Maybe I want to be punished. Only by you..

“Tell me what to do and I’ll do it, Mrs. Malfoy.”
(👀👀)
“Stop calling me that.”
“We’re not on a first-name basis, love.” Citrus. Cloves. He was very close.
“Take this ring off me.”
“That wouldn’t be safe for you.” He tugged on the curl and a shiver ran down her spine… the low heat in his voice.
“Get out,” she said, her voice breathier than she liked.
“Immediately, dear.”

“Oh, but I’m not better than that,” cooed Malfoy as he leaned closer. “And I’m not sorry. I’m not sorry I cut up Marcus for touching you. I’m not sorry I put my mouth on you. And I’m not sorry I said those things.” He was watching his own hand as he reached out and slowly twisted one of her curls around his finger.

“Sweet Salazar’s poxy dick, what is that?” said Theo…

“…Mrs. Malfoy’s progeny,”…

“But where did it come from?” asked Theo…

“Originally? Hell. This morning? Her rooms. It has escaped the wards.”

“This thing is loose in the Manor?”

“I do not know, Theo. It simply appears. My rooms. My study. No place is safe. I do not know a moment’s peace. I am but fate’s plaything.”

LOL

Ooooohhhh this is going to be funnyyyy

oh so that’s what y’all meant by bloody, slutty, & pathetic 🙂‍↕️