Happy Fanniversary, Ali, @nv-md I love you so so much! You are a wonderful bright spirit who writes amazing stories and let’s lil ol’ me scream at you for your brilliance. I’d quite happily like to keep you forever if that’s alright with you? I mean, of course, I’ll share you with everyone else (because I’ll cause a riot if I don’t) but please know that you’re a complete delight to know!
The below silliness is for you. Please don’t judge to harshly, it’s been a mad day at work but I couldn’t resist putting a little something onto your dash!
💜💜💜💜💜💜💜
“Iㅡ” Harry shuffles from one foot to the other, both hands hidden behind his back.
Draco raises an eyebrow and stares him down until Harry shrinks back half a step, looking positively horrified. It takes Draco every ounce of self-control to keep his signature cocky smirk off his face, and he presses his lips tightly together to ensure he doesn’t accidentally chuckle. There’s just something about Harry, acting and looking anything but the confident young man that he isㅡ, not that Draco is in any rush to tell Harry that this is how he thinks of him.
Truth be told, there is a nearly endless list of things Harry has said, frequently says, has done, and frequently does that turn Draco’s legs to jelly, but he keeps those safe in his diary, the one he’s had since he first started Hogwarts. It’s been fifteen years, and he keeps a close guard on it, keeps it locked with a multitude of spells, but there’s an entire page thatㅡif unrolledㅡis about fifteen feet long, and it lists all the million and twelve tiny things Draco has noticed about Harry.
“Will you be mad?”
Harry’s question drags Draco out of his thoughts, and he’s momentarily torn between drawing his brows together to frown at Harry or rolling his eyes. Either option is acceptable, really, because Harry’s question is utterly imbecilic. In the end, Draco settles for a derisive snort.
“To be mad, Potter, one actually needs a reason. Since I don’t know what you’re so positively terrified about, I can hardly fix you with a skin-flaying glare now, can I?”
Harry looks like he actually considers this for a moment, then he nods slowly, silently conveying that Draco’s rhetorical question does seem to make sense. Draco just about manages to bite back a scathing remark. Old habits die hard, even if a lot has changed since Hogwarts and his and Harry’s petty rivalry.
“Well, just promise me you won’t blow up or mock me.”
This time Draco does actually roll his eyes.
“I can promise you the former, Potter, but I can’t promise you the latter.”
For some inexplicable reason, that makes Harry smile. Although Draco has every intention to remain serious, he can’t resist giving in to the insistent tugs at the corners of his mouth.
“Fair,” Harry says with a lopsided grin that makes his green eyes sparkle with the Potter-typical mirth.
Draco watches as Harry produces an ivory-coloured envelope from behind his back. It’s sealed with the official Potter family crest, and as Harry hesitantly offers it, part of Draco wants to make him sweat and simply stare at the gift, but he can’t bring himself to do that. And so, he takes the proffered envelope and breaks the seal as gently as possible. It still breaks in half, just as it’s supposed to do.
“Uhm, I really didn’t know what to get you; I thought about a card because you know paper, but it somehow seemed not enough, and well, you know me, I’ve never been the best at words.”
Draco nods in agreement because it’s true. Harry’s strong suit is his heart, his righteousness, his unwavering belief in the good in people, and his desire to protect and save, and although Draco often mocks him for it, he also loves him for these very reasons…among others.
Opening the letter properly, Draco pulls out a thick stack of neatly folded papers. Upon closer expectation, the papers are a deed, and upon even more immediate expectation, Draco’s throat dries up, and a thick lump wedges itself somewhere between his voice box and Adam’s apple. He tries to swallow around it, but it’s almost impossible to do so. Blinking hard, really hard, Draco stares at his own name and the property address, Grimmauld Place, and before he can even begin to process the meaning of this, Harry starts babbling.
“It used to belong to the Black family, and I know Sirius left it to me, but the house loves you, and in honour of your mother, well, I thought we could own it togetherㅡ Uhm, only if you want to, course. I signed at the bottom; you’d have to sign as well to make it official.”
Harry doesn’t get further than this because Draco tosses the envelope and the deed onto the coffee table, takes Harry’s face between his hands and pulls him into a fiercely possessive kiss. He claims Harry’s mouth, swiping his tongue into the warm, wet cavern that tastes of coffee, oranges and chocolate. Draco is suddenly heady with desire and unwilling to draw away; he walks Harry backwards until he’s got him backed up against the nearest wall. Harry lets out an oomph, and Dracoㅡstill cupping Harry’s faceㅡbriefly breaks away from the kiss and stares at him, eyes almost black with desire. Harry’s eyes mirror his own, and Draco can’t help but smile. It’s a goofy grin. He’s about to dive in for another kiss when two of Harry’s fingers land on his lips, effectively stopping him. He glowers but says nothing.
“Is that a yes?”
Draco inhales sharply.
“What do you think?”
Harry shrugs.
“I don’t know.”
“Harry James Potter, you are an idiot.”
Harry guffaws at that.
“An idiot in love. Now, is that a yes?”
Draco rolls his eyes.
“Circe’s tits, Potter, of course, it’s a fucking yes.”
Harry grins.
“Great, can we continue makingㅡ”
He doesn’t get to finish that sentence because Draco is on him, kissing him and groping him and just generallyㅡand quite desperately soㅡtrying to find a way to show Harry somehow just how much he means to him. He fails, of course, though he doesn’t admit that to himself, and he’ll never admit it to Harry either. Because that’s just not how Draco Malfoy does things.
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Gosh, i just know sir Morningstar would be such a good gentle daddy, he would spoil you rotten, his sweet princess, and would make sure to make you cum sooo much with his fingers and tongue, he'd get drunk on it!!!!! Can't stop thinking about him
you are literally so right, anon!!! Daddy lucifer would be an incredible Daddy! he’s surprisingly attentive, constantly anticipating your needs, ready to meet, fulfill, and exceed them the very moment they arise. he prides himself on being as prepared as possible—because, really, all he wants to do is keep his little baby happy, healthy, and humble—and he uses significant mental energy and effort to actually pay attention to your needs and desires. being a service dom at his core, he derives validation and satisfaction from tending to you, caring for you, and pleasing you, so it’s imperative that he take note of your necessities and wants. often, this does veer into him spoiling you rotten—with the prettiest clothes, with the finest food, with the best mind-blowing orgasms—because he just wants to give you the entire fucking universe, but make no mistake; this doesn’t mean Daddy is a pushover.
because although Daddy lucifer is sweet and doting and desperate to please you, he will not tolerate disrespect. he will not entertain bratty behaviour. he will not dismiss disobedience, especially if it’s stemming from a superficial or selfish root. one warning—that’s all you ever get. one warning to cease such despicable behaviour before Daddy ceases it for you.
Daddy lucifer has limits, and he isn’t afraid to say no to you if he deems it appropriate—if he thinks whatever you’re asking for is unhealthy or unsafe. test him any further beyond his Daddy’s decision is final, sweetheart, even if it’s just a sweet little but Daddy!, and you’ll find your ass stained with his hand or his cane. ultimately, what Daddy says goes, end of discussion. because that’s what a good Daddy does, right?
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how would touya nii react to reader calling him a pervert (playfully or not heheh)
okay i love that you added the (playful or not) AHAHA because his reaction definitely differs depending on your tone + the context and situation in which you say it!!
tw: noncon, pseudocest
if it’s said playfully, giggled out with girlish swats at his shoulder and fluttery glances through thick lashes then he’s laughing with you, low and smooth and with twinkling eyes, murmuring out oh, yeah? pervert, huh? i’m gonna show you just how much of a pervert your niichan can be, between stringy saliva-streaked kisses and scrapes of his teeth along the curve of your neck.
if it’s said in a serious way, spit with vitriol and sharply narrowed eyes and a screwed up face then he is just as venomous in response, features all puckered as if he’s disgusted you’d even say such a thing, thinly veiling the offence simmering beneath, the hurt. he hurls your words right back at you, says that if he’s a pervert then surely you must be one, too—after all, you do beg your big brother to fuck you so desperately, so pathetically, so goddamn obscenely, and maybe he should film you next time, hm? to show you just how perverted you are for your niichan, yeah?
he doesn’t let up with it, either—he’s relentless, holding you down with both wrists collected in a single massive palm as he spits out insults—if he’s a pervert, then you’re a filthy little whore, aren’t you?—flecks of saliva splattering across your cheeks, his voice lacking any of it’s usual sugared condescension, mean and cruel and so, so sharp. he tells you he’ll give you a demonstration of just how disgusting and depraved you are—you both are—right here, right now, shoving your dress up and your panties down and his cock into you in three swift motions.
only nasty little perverted girls like their big brother defiling them, right? only deviant little girls beg their big brother to fill them up with cum, don’t they? you’re just as fucked up as he is, baby, don’t you forget it.
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