For dragonsangel68
Username: mynuet
Gift is for: dragonsangel68
Prompt you were Given:
Username: dragonsangel68
Age: 38
Kinks: children, flowers, pile of tangled clothes
Squicks: non-con, slash, hate-sex
Pairing(s): Ron/Pansy, Lucius/Narcissa, Harry/Hermione
Particular scenarios you may wish to see in your fic: Prior relationship at least eluded to, if not explored.
Any other notes: While slow loving smut is wonderful, a quickie in a secluded spot is just as good.
Title of Gift: Proposal
Rating: NC-17/Extremely Naughty
Pairing(s): Draco/Ginny
Summary: The happiest moment of her life.
Author's Notes: Thanks to Emily and Cindy for the beta. :)
The Fic:
“Ah, Miss Weasley, what a surprise.” Draco leaned back in his chair, his complete lack of surprise completely obvious as he indicated the chair on the other side of his desk. “I take it you’ve heard about the reinstatement of the waiting period for the private purchase of dragon’s blood?”
She raised an eyebrow and sat down. “It’s totally unfair, victimizing the honest potions maker and decimating the apothecary trade all for the misguided greed of Ministry politicians who don’t know what it means to make a living… But that’s not why I’m here.”
“I see.” He smiled wickedly and almost purred, “Then I take it you’re here to take back your hasty words regarding the prospect of midday trysts?”
This brought on a roll of the eyes. “I told you, I don’t like to go back to work all sticky. It’s not like we don’t have plenty of sex before and after work.”
Before he could make any further suggestions she said, “In any case, I only have about fifteen minutes before I have to get back to the shop. I just had something I wanted to ask you.”
“Of course,” he said, standing up to take her hand. Raising it to his lips, he brushed a light kiss over her knuckles. “Do you want me to send for some lunch for you to take back with you?”
“No, I want you to marry me.”
In the dead silence that followed, Draco found that his hand was opening and closing around hers at the same rhythm as his jaw was moving up and down as he struggled to speak. At length he said, “Beg pardon, I don’t think I heard correctly.”
She dropped to her knees, dropped to her knees, and, still holding his hand, said clearly, “I love you, Draco Malfoy. Will you marry me?”
All he could do was stare. He loved her, had since the day she’d stormed into his office at the Ministry over a year ago and declared that it was absolutely ludicrous for the Ministry to list lacewing flies as a controlled substance. Somewhere in between him defending a policy designed to curtail the recent spate of polyjuice abuse and her banging her fist down on his desk and demanding to know who he thought he was to keep necessary commodities from the free market, his heart had snuck away from him to nestle cozily in her clutches.
They’d had quite a few more run-ins over business, and after six months of dogged pursuit she’d agreed to have dinner with him. Another month and a half of cold showers and careful seduction had brought her to his bed at last, and since then he’d been laying the groundwork to get her to move in with him. He’d thought that would take another three months, and after that the plan was to start wearing her down about marriage and children.
But she’d just proposed.
He didn’t know how he appeared to her, just that her eyes were wide and she was trembling as she looked up at him. He also didn’t know how to speak, because all of his higher brain functions seemed to have been burned away in a hot scarlet tide that rushed from his head to his toes. All that was left was the single, unstoppable desire to show her what he thought of her initiative.
Gentleness was gone. Discretion may well have never existed. He yanked her to her feet, practically throwing her small body to the floor of his office, and followed her so fast that he didn’t realize he was moving until he was there. She made a little noise, almost like a hiccup, and he felt himself snarl as he covered her mouth with his to stop her from saying anything else. No talking. He couldn’t handle any talking.
Moaning was all right, though, and she did that as she arched her head back to let him kiss and bite her neck. Her skirt was riding up her thighs but it wasn’t moving fast enough, so he slid both hands underneath and pushed the whole thing up to her waist before pressed his hard length against her, too desperate to touch her to be able to do things properly. His knuckles brushed against her wet panties as he pulled down the zip of his trousers and jerked his belt loose.
“Draco,” she whimpered, and he grunted and bit her neck, sharply, knowing it would stop her from forming any words. Her harsh breaths were like music as he wrenched himself free of his pants and pushed into her, her soaked knickers shoved unceremoniously to one side. Her whole body spasmed and he wasn’t entirely sure that it was from pleasure and not pain, but for once he couldn’t slow down to make sure. Sanity had no place here, and so he just put his hands on her waist to hold her still and make it that much easier for him to slam into her.
She was practically screaming with each breath, and at one point she’d kicked the blinds on the floor-length window to his outer office, but for all he cared his secretary could sell tickets or take out an advertisement in the Prophet. All he cared about, all that mattered in the world, was that he had to fuck Ginny right then and there, had to drive into her again and again until the heat that was inside him was utterly spent inside her. He picked up her legs and folded them over his elbows, putting his hands on her shoulders and groaning at how deep that took him, so deep he could feel his balls being drenched by contact with her wet core, so deep that he couldn’t bring himself to pull out at all and just rocked against her until he came with a small, choked sigh.
He could still feel the blood pumping through his veins at marathon speed when she bit his shoulder and he felt her closing around him, the powerful muscular contractions making him shudder brokenly as the stimulation proved too much to bear and turned almost painful.
As he lay on top of her, trying to catch his breath and manage to form a thought, she gave a little whuff and said, “I take it that’s a yes?”
Gift is for: dragonsangel68
Prompt you were Given:
Username: dragonsangel68
Age: 38
Kinks: children, flowers, pile of tangled clothes
Squicks: non-con, slash, hate-sex
Pairing(s): Ron/Pansy, Lucius/Narcissa, Harry/Hermione
Particular scenarios you may wish to see in your fic: Prior relationship at least eluded to, if not explored.
Any other notes: While slow loving smut is wonderful, a quickie in a secluded spot is just as good.
Title of Gift: Proposal
Rating: NC-17/Extremely Naughty
Pairing(s): Draco/Ginny
Summary: The happiest moment of her life.
Author's Notes: Thanks to Emily and Cindy for the beta. :)
The Fic:
“Ah, Miss Weasley, what a surprise.” Draco leaned back in his chair, his complete lack of surprise completely obvious as he indicated the chair on the other side of his desk. “I take it you’ve heard about the reinstatement of the waiting period for the private purchase of dragon’s blood?”
She raised an eyebrow and sat down. “It’s totally unfair, victimizing the honest potions maker and decimating the apothecary trade all for the misguided greed of Ministry politicians who don’t know what it means to make a living… But that’s not why I’m here.”
“I see.” He smiled wickedly and almost purred, “Then I take it you’re here to take back your hasty words regarding the prospect of midday trysts?”
This brought on a roll of the eyes. “I told you, I don’t like to go back to work all sticky. It’s not like we don’t have plenty of sex before and after work.”
Before he could make any further suggestions she said, “In any case, I only have about fifteen minutes before I have to get back to the shop. I just had something I wanted to ask you.”
“Of course,” he said, standing up to take her hand. Raising it to his lips, he brushed a light kiss over her knuckles. “Do you want me to send for some lunch for you to take back with you?”
“No, I want you to marry me.”
In the dead silence that followed, Draco found that his hand was opening and closing around hers at the same rhythm as his jaw was moving up and down as he struggled to speak. At length he said, “Beg pardon, I don’t think I heard correctly.”
She dropped to her knees, dropped to her knees, and, still holding his hand, said clearly, “I love you, Draco Malfoy. Will you marry me?”
All he could do was stare. He loved her, had since the day she’d stormed into his office at the Ministry over a year ago and declared that it was absolutely ludicrous for the Ministry to list lacewing flies as a controlled substance. Somewhere in between him defending a policy designed to curtail the recent spate of polyjuice abuse and her banging her fist down on his desk and demanding to know who he thought he was to keep necessary commodities from the free market, his heart had snuck away from him to nestle cozily in her clutches.
They’d had quite a few more run-ins over business, and after six months of dogged pursuit she’d agreed to have dinner with him. Another month and a half of cold showers and careful seduction had brought her to his bed at last, and since then he’d been laying the groundwork to get her to move in with him. He’d thought that would take another three months, and after that the plan was to start wearing her down about marriage and children.
But she’d just proposed.
He didn’t know how he appeared to her, just that her eyes were wide and she was trembling as she looked up at him. He also didn’t know how to speak, because all of his higher brain functions seemed to have been burned away in a hot scarlet tide that rushed from his head to his toes. All that was left was the single, unstoppable desire to show her what he thought of her initiative.
Gentleness was gone. Discretion may well have never existed. He yanked her to her feet, practically throwing her small body to the floor of his office, and followed her so fast that he didn’t realize he was moving until he was there. She made a little noise, almost like a hiccup, and he felt himself snarl as he covered her mouth with his to stop her from saying anything else. No talking. He couldn’t handle any talking.
Moaning was all right, though, and she did that as she arched her head back to let him kiss and bite her neck. Her skirt was riding up her thighs but it wasn’t moving fast enough, so he slid both hands underneath and pushed the whole thing up to her waist before pressed his hard length against her, too desperate to touch her to be able to do things properly. His knuckles brushed against her wet panties as he pulled down the zip of his trousers and jerked his belt loose.
“Draco,” she whimpered, and he grunted and bit her neck, sharply, knowing it would stop her from forming any words. Her harsh breaths were like music as he wrenched himself free of his pants and pushed into her, her soaked knickers shoved unceremoniously to one side. Her whole body spasmed and he wasn’t entirely sure that it was from pleasure and not pain, but for once he couldn’t slow down to make sure. Sanity had no place here, and so he just put his hands on her waist to hold her still and make it that much easier for him to slam into her.
She was practically screaming with each breath, and at one point she’d kicked the blinds on the floor-length window to his outer office, but for all he cared his secretary could sell tickets or take out an advertisement in the Prophet. All he cared about, all that mattered in the world, was that he had to fuck Ginny right then and there, had to drive into her again and again until the heat that was inside him was utterly spent inside her. He picked up her legs and folded them over his elbows, putting his hands on her shoulders and groaning at how deep that took him, so deep he could feel his balls being drenched by contact with her wet core, so deep that he couldn’t bring himself to pull out at all and just rocked against her until he came with a small, choked sigh.
He could still feel the blood pumping through his veins at marathon speed when she bit his shoulder and he felt her closing around him, the powerful muscular contractions making him shudder brokenly as the stimulation proved too much to bear and turned almost painful.
As he lay on top of her, trying to catch his breath and manage to form a thought, she gave a little whuff and said, “I take it that’s a yes?”