This should have been a squickier post (for me) but I gave up on a pairing I've planned to write. (Actually, it's written in all of its disturbing glory and I might post it when something pisses me off! :D)

Four ficlets, all NC-17, roughly between 500-1000 words.

If you don't mind some het and some Ginny, press one.
If you'd rather just read about guy sex, press two.
If you'd rather read just straight up Harry/Draco, press three.
If you don't want bottom!Draco, press four.
If you want a story with a plot ... Dude, what are you doing here?

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For ginny88. Happy Belated Birthday! Have some Draco/Harry/Ginny. Oh Grace, I've promised you this like ten years ago. Epilogue compliant and a wee bit angsty.

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This was all wrong. Ginny wasn't sure what was worse: the fact that she just sat there, watching her husband as he curved his spine and pushed back onto Draco Malfoy's cock, or the fact that she could actually feel a throb between her thighs, an undeniable proof that she enjoyed the view.

It wasn't supposed to be like this. Ginny didn't even know how this had happened in the first place. Harry had simply changed, out of nowhere, and Ginny half-wished she had never discovered the reason. But she had. Harry had been seeing Malfoy, lying to her about where he was, and even though, when confronted, he had swore that nothing ever happened between them, Ginny was still understandably hurt. But after much yelling and long fights and even longer talks she decided to let him go. Painful though that decision had been, she had no intention of keeping him if he didn't want to be kept.

But Harry had refused to leave. He pleaded and swore he loved her and couldn't live without her, and he didn't want to lose her, despite these feelings he had for Malfoy.

The ridiculous part was that this had been her idea. She was the one that broke at seeing Harry so miserable and she was the one that had offered this arrangement; offered to share Harry with Malfoy. Quite honestly, she had believed that both of them would refuse, she wasn't exactly prepared for them to jump at the chance. Only later did she realise what she had done. She had freed Harry from his guilt over leaving his wife and kids, and gave him the opportunity to be with his lover.

She had no one else to blame but herself. And now, with her sons sent off to Hogwarts and her daughter sleeping peacefully upstairs, here she was; in the living-room, watching her husband clutch the back of the sofa, bending over, willingly letting Malfoy fuck him.

If he wanted to spice up their sex life he could have bought her a bloody strap-on, she thought bitterly, even though she knew this wasn't about that.

She knew it by desperation that both men displayed when Malfoy stormed into their house and pounced on her husband without a word. She knew it by the way her husband moaned when Malfoy stripped their clothes away, knelt and pushed his tongue and slick pale fingers into Harry's arse, the gentleness he showed in that moment contradicting their previous rough touches, sharp bites and forceful, hungry kisses. And she knew it by the way Harry had spread his legs, offering and pleading Malfoy to fill him, gasping as Malfoy obeyed with a look of wonder on his face. Harry reached behind with his hand, caressing Malfoy's thigh, urging him closer, begging him to fuck him harder.

Something erupted within her, it always did; a mix of anger and unbearable jealousy, the same emotions she could clearly see burning in Malfoy's eyes. It reminded her that this wouldn't — couldn't — end well; they'd end up hating each other even more, and hating Harry for making them share. The disaster hung threateningly over them each time they were all together like this, but Ginny had accepted the situation and she was prepared for the inevitable explosion. But in the meantime, she had no intention of just standing aside and wait for the unavoidable to happen.

She rose and walked over, sliding her hand over the sweaty skin of Harry's stomach, pushing slightly to make him step back a little. Harry's hand grabbed Malfoy's thigh firmly, stopping his thrusts, and then he reached for Ginny, sliding her nightgown up and gripping her bare arse to lift her onto the sofa. His eyes blazing with the same desperation and desire he showed to Malfoy earlier, he pulled her in for a kiss; the kind of kiss the always made Ginny forget about her worries; the kind that made everything right even if it was just for a moment. He pushed inside her easily; she had been ready for a while, hot and wet just from watching the two of them together. Harry's tongue mimicked the movements of his cock within her, sliding in and out of her mouth, the feeling inflaming Ginny's body, making her move up and down on his cock slowly, setting their pace.

Of course, something was bound to change at one point, though Ginny had not expected that to happen this soon.

It was a silly mistake — Malfoy's mistake — as she tore her mouth away from Harry's and moved her head onto his left shoulder. It was an unspoken rule between Malfoy and her; a rule for this exact position. She would place her head on Harry's left and he would placed his head to Harry's right, so they wouldn't touch each other, or even look at each other. But this time, Ginny's lips encountered Malfoy's hot breath as she pressed her cheek to Harry's. And after a moment of shock, during which they both froze, Malfoy should have pulled away, look away. But he hadn't.

Grey eyes were open wide, staring straight at Ginny; staring as he still restlessly pounded into her husband and as Harry still moved within her. Malfoy pressed his lips to Harry's ear, his breathing shallow, his breath mixing with Ginny's own, mouth almost brushing against hers. Harry clutched them both, one hand around Ginny's waist and the other gripping Malfoy's thigh again, as though he frantically wished to bring them even closer together. It was hard to decide whether Harry kept them there trapped, or was he the one trapped between them.

Malfoy mercifully closed his eyes; mercifully because the swirling emotions within them weren't as clear as they're supposed to be. There was something else there Ginny had never noticed before, and she found herself appreciating the fact that she wasn't the only one sharing here; wasn't the only one that had given up something for Harry's happiness. Malfoy closed the distance between them, pressing his lips to Ginny's, pale eyelashes resting on flushed cheeks, his sweaty face too close for Ginny not to shut her eyes in sudden irrational fear. Though Malfoy's lips were still pressed against hers, it was hardly a kiss. They just froze there with their lips touching and their breaths mixing as Harry keened and quivered between them, murmuring something unintelligible but full of emotion.

Malfoy's hand sneaked behind her and grabbed her around the waist, Harry's and Malfoy's fingers intertwining on her back, and Ginny's own hand slipped lower, to caress Harry's hand on Malfoy's thigh, and then touch even higher, drag her fingertips over the smooth skin of Malfoy's buttocks.

And for the first time, Ginny could see this for what it was. This didn't feel like a battle she had lost and a war she could never win. And it didn’t feel like they were heading towards a catastrophe, but rather like they were running away from it.

This wasn't wrong, Ginny thought, as Malfoy pushed his tongue into her mouth and kissed her while Harry shuddered and came between them.

They weren't sharing; they were complementing.

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For draco_pet. Happy Belated Birthday! Have some Harry/Draco/Snape. You are obligated to like this cos I totes squicked myself. LOL!

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It wasn't that bad, being dead. Well, dead to the rest of the Wizarding World while actually being very much alive. Still, there were some people that would mind being in this situation — hidden, with barely any contact with other human and non-human beings. However, Severus had always been able to bear the solitude with pleasure. In addition, he had everything he needed and then some. Draco and Potter stopped by frequently, brining him food and clothes, and more importantly, loads of Firewhiskey.

The only annoying thing, unsurprisingly, was Potter. He would come around, giving Severus long, mournful looks, constantly apologising in the name of the whole Ministry.

"I'll make sure your name is cleared, sir. I promise," Potter had vowed again and again, determination shining in his eyes.

Severus would clench his jaw and look proud and sorrowful, desperately trying not to laugh at Potter's sad expression. Because really, why the hell should he care whether his named was cleared or not? He was quite fine where he was.

Perhaps, the only real problem was that Draco and Potter were around just a little too much for Severus' liking. He didn't exactly mind their company. He missed hurling insults and showing off his cleverness to impressionable young people and Draco and Potter served this purpose beautifully. Draco was forever grateful for the kindness Severus had shown him that horrible year before the Dark Lord's fall; he was too indebted to challenge Severus much. And of course, Potter had felt terrible for ever thinking ill of his poor, self-sacrificing Professor. All in all, it was entertain to insult them and then watch them struggle as they tried hard not to insult him back.

After a while though, it had stopped being so amusing; it had actually become a little grating. Severus dearly wished to know why they were here all the damn time. Though, naturally he had not dared to ask them this directly, out of fear that they'd stop coming.

Of course, Severus guessed the answer to this question now. At the present time, it was hard not to pick up on the reason. What with both Draco and Potter kneeling down in front of the armchair in which Severus' was lounging, their hands wrapped around his balls and cock, stroking and squeezing while their tongues licked and swirled along the hard length, occasionally intertwining when they reached the leaking head, positively fighting to lick off the precome that had gathered there.

In retrospect, Severus concluded that perhaps this had been the reason they were so kind, and why they had always brought rivers of Firewhiskey with them. Even now, Severus was fairly drunk and therefore understandably cooperative.

Though they were still dunderheaded fools, Severus thought. If they wanted to suck his cock, all they had to do was ask. Really, why would he deny them? Anyone could do that to him, for all that he cared. Hard life and general misery had taught him not to be picky.

Draco, selfish as always, pushed Potter away and took Severus' cock into his mouth, demonstrating his expertise and prompting Severus to pat his head in approval. Potter pouted, but Severus hardly cared, not when Draco sucked and moaned around his mouthful, and especially not when Potter had leaned in and tongued Severus' balls, producing truly indecent sounds, his saliva trickling down as he licked and slurped. It didn't take long for Severus' body to stiffen and shudder as he groaned, coming long and hard into Draco's willing mouth.

Smiling drunkenly and blissfully, and uncharacteristically, Severus opened his eyes in time to see Draco grabbing Potter's jaw and tipping his head back in order to kiss him. Potter tried to get away as Draco pressed his lips to his and let Severus' come pour into Potter's forcefully open mouth. However, Potter had quickly stopped complaining, opting to moan and swallow instead, eagerly allowing Draco to feed him Severus' spunk.

Sated and sleepy, Severus sank deeper into his chair, watching Draco and Potter share a messy kiss, their tongues sliding together and their hands frantically roaming all over their bodies, tugging and ripping their clothes away. Draco turned Potter around, making him bend over and raise his arse in the air, and then he knelt behind him and spread his arse-cheeks. He leaned down, using his tongue and fingers to prepare a gasping Potter for his cock.

Feeling his mouth dry, Severus took his glass and poured himself more Firewhiskey, patiently waiting for his body to recover so he could grab his cock and stroke himself.

As he watched the two young men have sex on the carpet before him, gasping and giving Severus heated sidelong glances, clearly enjoying the fact that they had an audience, Severus sighed contently.

It was really wonderful to be dead.

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For lavillanueva. Happy Belated Birthday! Have some Harry/Draco. Let's see, hair-pulling, a little bondage, top!Harry. I was gonna write you something else, something a bit ... kinkier, but uh, yeah. But Harry is wearing a police uniform. Who could mind that?

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Muggles were silly things. It wasn't their fault of course; they were simply born like that, by nature devoid of good, inventive ideas that came with magic. Well that was what Draco's father always said, and Draco had believed him. But right now, he was beginning to doubt his father's words. Sometimes, muggles had good ideas. And interesting inventions.

Take uniforms for example. Draco had a small thing for uniforms. He liked to see Harry in his Quidditch gear, and he loved to see him in his Auror grab. And then Harry had gone to this mission. A muggle undercover mission. And he had come back home still wearing his undercover clothes. He had apologised and said he'd change immediately, and Draco had almost failed to stop him. Mostly because he was busy staring and drooling and getting impossibly hard.

It was a police uniform, Harry had explained. And policemen were something like Muggle Aurors. But Sweet Merlin, Aurors didn't walk around with handcuffs and long, sticks hanging from their person. And their uniforms didn't have that many buttons, shiny buttons and ugly, ridiculous hats. All hats, by default, were ridiculous, as was this one on top of Harry's head, so it made no sense for Harry to look so bloody sexy with it. But he had. He had looked so goddamn sexy Draco had ended up on his knees, clutching Harry's behind and burying his face into Harry's crotch, desperately trying to unbutton the tight trousers with his mouth and tongue and teeth.

Harry, though sometimes slow on the uptake, had never been a slacker once he would gather what Draco wanted. That was why Draco was now kneeling on the floor, naked, with his hands handcuffed on his back, and his arse stinging and hurting from Harry's stick — or baton as he called it. Harry hadn't hit him hard, but he had hit him hard enough for Draco to jump and gasp as the butt plug in his arse was jolted, brushing against his prostate.

Harry was still fully clothed, still had the ridiculous but sexy hat on, and was clearly in a good mood, curving his lips upwards, his green eyes dancing as he grabbed Draco's hair and pulled his head sharply up.

He unbuttoned his trousers and pulled out his cock, nudging its sticky tip against Draco's lips.

"Open," Harry ordered shortly, and Draco parted his lips with a moan. He choked only a little when Harry rudely pushed his cock inside his mouth, and then still gripping the back of his head, kept him firmly in place. Draco thought he might come; come without Harry even touching him, but it felt so incredible when Harry acted like this. When he held Draco tight and made him feel helpless. Draco couldn't move away, or push Harry back. Not with his bound hands and his trapped head. All he could do was let Harry fuck his mouth, which Harry happily did. He moved slowly, rocking his hips back and forth, filling Draco's mouth and pulling back, occasionally all the way back so his cock slipped out of Draco's mouth and Draco knew that now he was supposed to lick it, which of course he did eagerly.

Just when Draco thought he wouldn't be able to take this anymore; that he'd come and embarrass himself by showing Harry just how much this had affected him, Harry stepped back, and hauled Draco upwards.

He grabbed Draco's bound wrists and rudely shoved him towards the kitchen table, pushing him down, pressing one hand on his back and the other on his head, forcing Draco to glue his cheek to the cool surface.

Harry kicked Draco's legs apart, and barked, "Spread them!" then chuckled madly as though he had just told himself a joke, though Draco had not idea what was so funny. He'd rather claim this was unbearably hot.

Harry pulled the butt-plug out of Draco's arse, and just as Draco expected to feel Harry's cock push inside him, instead, something cool and hard touched his opening. Panicking, Draco tried to pull away. That baton was a little too big for something like this. But Harry's hand on the small of his back prevented Draco from squirming away. He trailed the end of the stick along Draco's slick crack, teasing his entrance, and pushing but never pushing in.

Draco had cried out various things in protest, and eventually, after a particularly hard probe that made Draco gasp in dread, Harry moved the baton away and delivered another sharp smack on Draco's already abused arse.

Sighing in relief, Draco had only a moment to catch his breath as Harry's cock nudged against his entrance, and then slowly pushed inside, stretching and burning slightly. Then Harry pressed forward, still holding Draco pinned to the table, and began thrusting in earnest, hard and fast so that the table rocked dangerously. Draco couldn't even push back, though he had no problem with just taking it. His cock throbbed and his skin tingled, especially at those places where Harry's coarse uniform touched his bare skin, and Draco had knowingly foreseen that his pending orgasm would make him black out.

As Draco opened his eyes and saw their reflection in the small mirror a little farther away on the wall — Harry with his blue uniform and concentrated expression, and Draco bent in front of him, naked and helpless — Draco had found a new appreciation for Muggles. Sometimes, their ideas were quite all right.

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For lijahlover. Happy Belated Birthday! You asked specifically for a Harry/Draco PWP so here it is. Prompt was top!vampire!Draco. Forgive me, I had to make fun of Draco's fangs as I can't think about them without laughing since I've read alaana_fair's awesome vampire fic. :D

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Draco should have mentioned it. He really should have. It would have been fair to explain to Harry that dating Draco wasn't really a good idea. That once they had sex, that was it; they would be bound to each other and forced to spend their entire lives together. And Harry would have to suffer through being bitten and thoroughly fucked every day, and he would have to let Draco feed; let him sink his fangs into his neck and consume his blood.

He should have at least told Harry that he was a vampire.

But he hadn't. He had been postponing the moment; lying about wanting to take things slow, telling tall tales about wizarding customs, assuring Harry that Draco was a virgin and they would have to wait to have sex until he was ready. And Harry, poor, sweet, slightly dim-witted Harry had believed him. He had even believed Draco when he had told him that he worked very hard during the day and therefore can only meet Harry after sundown.

But the lies had to end now. Now that Draco had caved to his cravings. He could have endured a little longer and wait to bite Harry and make him his own, but he couldn't wait to have him; to fuck him.

So here they were, upon Draco's bed, with Harry moaning and panting beneath him; his legs raised high as he was bent double, captured underneath Draco's body, responding to every thrust of Draco's cock with a small twitch of his hips. Draco held Harry's hands pinned onto the pillow, tightly gripping his wrists as he pounded inside of him, his gaze fixed on Harry's pulse point. Harry trashed his head around, occasionally exposing the pale, delectable skin of neck, unknowingly presenting Draco with much desired meal.

But Draco couldn't do it; he couldn't confess to Harry because he knew that Harry would leave him for being a wretched freak, and he couldn't just feed, not when Harry was so completely unaware of the threat that hovered above him.

Harry opened his eyes and stared at Draco's face; the green was hidden by the dark of his pupils, making his eyes bigger, more intense, seemingly ablaze with desire and trust. And Draco just couldn't. He couldn't do this to the man he loved.

Harry licked his lips, sweat forming around his mouth and on his forehead, even damping his messy hair, making it lie flat on his head. He opened his mouth and gasped as Draco pushed in deeper into the hot tightens of Harry's hole, and then he turned his head to the side, offering his neck.

"Go on. Feed," he whispered, closing his eyes tightly and waiting.

Incredulous and scared, Draco paused in his thrusts and stared down at his lover. "You know?"

Harry laughed, understandably breathless as he had been vigorously fucked through the mattress, and then gave Draco a sidelong glance, saying, "Even if it wasn't obvious that you're a vampire, I think these giant fangs you're currently sporting would give me a hint."

Draco swiped his tongue over his large teeth, feeling appropriately embarrassed. "You don't mind?" he breathed, amazed.

Harry just sighed and freed one of his hands to grab the back of Draco's head and force it down so that Draco's mouth ended up pressed against Harry's neck.

"Don't forget to fuck me while you bite me," Harry instructed, returning his hand to the pillow and urging Draco to pin it to the bed again. "You're sweet, but a bit dim-witted," Harry sighed.

Draco growled against Harry's neck. "Apparently," he said grudgingly, licking Harry's neck and making him shudder. He resumed his thrusts without warning, eliciting gasps and moans from Harry's mouth, and then pressed his fangs to Harry's skin. But before he bit down, he declared with a pout, "I may be a bit dim-witted, but you'll be extremely fucked."

Harry gasped as Draco bit him, and then murmured contently, "Exactly the kind of arrangement I've been looking for."

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