by inspired_ideas


Title: Always, Only
Author: Musyc
Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Pansy Parkinson
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Romance
Warnings: None
Word Count: @1000
Summary: Pansy is always there for Draco. Only Draco.
Author's Note: My second OTP. I leapt on this artwork as soon as I saw it. Beautiful.

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.


There were dozens of witches who wanted to have what Pansy Parkinson had. Dozens of wizards, as well. For all she knew, dozens of centaurs, mermaids, and house-elves. Everyone had their fantasies and gossip, had been wondering for years. Everyone wanted Draco, she knew. Some wanted him because he was rich, his gold shining as much as their greedy eyes. Some wanted him because he could be moody and dark, an artistic temperament that drew the romantics and clinging. Some wanted him because he had been a Death Eater, and there were always people who were fascinated by a dramatic, twisted history. He ignored all of them. Draco only looked to her. Pansy was the only one who knew him, who could ever have him. Pansy was the only one who only wanted Draco.

She didn't want his money, his lineage, his history, or his affiliations. She didn't need any of it, didn't care about any of it. He was her friend, her lover, her lifelong companion. Pansy cared about him. Cared for him. She always had. She always would.

He smiled up at her, head in her lap in that comfortable, familiar position. "Galleon for your thoughts," he said, and she smiled. He never offered a Knut. He said her thoughts were worth more to him.

"You," she told him, brushing his fringe back from his eyes. She loved the color of them, the pale grey of winter skies, the dark steel of thunderstorms. He hid so much from everyone else, but for her, his eyes were the mirror of his soul, his emotions. She knew his heart better than she knew her own. "I'm always thinking about you, you know that. I worry about you, Draco. Especially today."

He closed his eyes and rocked his head on her thigh, shaking away her next words before she could say them. She obeyed the unspoken command without protest. He didn't need more stress and trouble, not today. Not on the Anniversary.

Five years since the war. Five years since his failed mission. Five years since the world went to hell and he lost everything except for her. Pansy had promised him, the first time she saw that twisting snake burned into his forearm, that she would never leave him. She would never abandon and forget him. She wanted him, and always would.

Pansy stroked his hair, watching the tight muscles around his eyes as they relaxed, as the tension in his face eased. No one else could give this to him. He wouldn't go to anyone else for this. Only her. Only him.

Only them.

Pansy touched his lips, traced the line of her jaw with one finger, drew the tip of her nail down his long and pointed nose. Draco's lashes fluttered and he tipped his head into her hand to kiss her palm. "Bed," he murmured, his voice lilting in question. Pansy laid her hand over his heart and nodded.


No modesty or coy behavior followed them into the bedroom. They didn't need it. They'd outgrown any pretense of shyness years before, and Pansy knew Draco appreciated it. Reality was more important to him. The protestations of false innocence, the batted lashes that demanded a long and pleading seduction? Unnecessary. Unneeded, unwanted. Unimportant. The importance lay in them, together, ready, and wanting. He wanted her, she wanted him. They were each what the other had always needed.

Draco stood by the bed, head bowed, his left arm tense against his side. Pansy touched his shoulder and walked around him. She leaned against his back, bare skin touching bare skin, and took his hands. She laced her fingers in his, held them in a loose grip. She closed her eyes and settled her head between his shoulders, then hummed. She let the soft sounds fill his ears, let the gentle vibrations fill his body. After a minute, she felt the muscles in his arms relax. She smiled, pleased with herself and pleased for him. He needed this, and she was more than happy to give it to him. She would always give him what he wanted.

They turned together, wrapped arms around each other, and joined lips for a kiss, deep and slow. They explored, re-acquainting themselves with every inch, every flavor and taste, arousal filling them both under her nipples stood hard against his chest and his cock stood proud against her stomach.

Pansy purred and bit at Draco's lip. He jerked, the tiny spike of pain flaring excitement in his body. She knew him well, knew his reactions, his desires, and when his hands locked on her waist, she drew him down to the bed.


They moved with the harmony of long practice, of two people who had been lovers for years. When his eyes closed just so, she squeezed tight around him, her body gripping his cock in slick heat. When her back arched like that, he thrust deep into her, grinding against the small nub of her clit. Draco brought her to the peak of orgasm and over it once and again, until she trembled wordlessly beneath him. His fragile control snapped and he shoved up onto his hands, balancing his weight over her as he drove into her. He took her, claimed her all over again, and when she scraped her nails down his chest, he came. They collapsed heavy into the pillows, limbs tangled together and sticky with sex. Pansy smoothed his sweat-dampened hair away from his forehead as he lay atop her.

"Thank you," he murmured, his lips moving against her neck. "Thank you ... for everything. For being with me."

"Always," she promised for the thousandth time, her voice as sincere as ever. She'd first sworn it to him when they were children, and she'd never changed her mind. "Always, Draco. Always with you. Always for you." She closed her eyes and listened to his breathing as it settled into a slow, relaxed rhythm. She smiled as he clung to her while he dropped into sleep. She had what everyone wanted. She had what she wanted. He was hers. Always hers, only hers. Forever.


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