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Summary
Astoria answers a Ministry ad calling for subjects to test experimental sex magic.
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- Words:
- 41,128
- Works:
- 2
- Bookmarks:
- 5
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Summary
Healer Draco Malfoy enjoys a nice, ordered life with very clear parameters.
He's a professional, ergo he doesn't fuck patients. He's a top, ergo he doesn't take cock. It's all very simple, really.
And no cocky, cage-fighting arsehole is going to change that.
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Summary
Harry Potter has one inappropriate thought about Draco Malfoy, ONLY ONE. Unfortunately, magic is a petty bitch and it notices.
The next morning, Harry wakes up with a soulmark on his inner thigh: a bright red S+, placed exactly where no decent person should ever be formally assessed by Draco Malfoy.
Draco, meanwhile, has no mark at all: only an ache, a deadline, and absolutely no idea that the soulmate he is looking for is the man he keeps insulting. -
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Summary
Malfoy glared at Harry. “Describe this room that we are not allowed to leave.”
“Kitchen, special quarantine Floo, toilet, door that doesn’t open, windows that show us nothing, telly, cupboard, bedside table, bed…” Harry looked down at the bed, then at Malfoy in horror.
Malfoy nodded. “Ah yes, there we are. Bed. Singular. Not beds. Bed.”
“Oh, absolutely not.”
“Look at that: two years of partnership and we’ve agreed on something.”