Ridiculously Possessive Vampire Draco X Bratty Harry Who Fucking Loves It

Ridiculously possessive vampire Draco x bratty Harry who fucking loves it

(Let’s say this was loosely written for @hpkinkuary’s day 5 prompt: possessiveness/jealousy 😇)

Harry borrowing Ron’s jacket, pretending to be chilly, but wears it to Draco’s with a smirk, and Draco shreds it and pushes Harry into the shower and fucks him until he smells like Draco again.

Draco giving Harry jewelry all the time, horribly expensive, custom-made, which everyone thinks is just rich guy being rich, but it’s really so that Harry is always marked as his. Harry picks out a gold choker one day, and Draco about trips over himself to buy it, and Harry never takes it off after that. In fact, it’s his favorite outfit to wear around the house.

Draco thinks he’s being tricky by slowly moving Harry’s clothes into the Manor. Harry watches, amused, to see how long it takes Draco to actually ask him to move in. He hasn’t slept at Grimmauld in...three months?

~

“Hate when you go to work,” Draco murmurs against Harry’s neck, the collar warm against his lips.

“I know you do.” Harry smiles. “That’s why I go.”

Draco shoves Harry onto the bed. “Think you’re funny, Potter?”

Harry stretches languidly, watching Draco watch him. They’re both already hard. “I do,” he says. Draco grabs his hair, pulls his head back, exposing the delicate skin under his jaw. “Hungry?”

Draco’s eyes are so dilated there’s just a slim ring of silver around his pupil. He looks at Harry, heat and jealousy and love all mixed up, then grazes his teeth over Harry’s carotid. Harry’s hips jerk up and he moans softly. He circles his legs around Draco’s, moves his head further back to show more of his neck. Draco lays his hand against the collar, giving just a little pressure, then pulls it down. He licks a stripe up Harry’s neck.

Harry whines. “Come on, do it. Or aren’t you—?” He cuts off, gasping, and Draco buries his teeth in Harry’s neck. The effect of the bite is euphoric; Harry could (and has) come from this alone.

Draco only takes enough for Harry to feel it—he could safely take more, but he’s terrified of losing control. He releases Harry, who is dazed and pliant and very, very fuckable. Harry loves this; it’s a shortcut to the way he feels after hours of being teased and fucked, again and again.

Hermione: Malfoy don’t you ever want to talk about your emotions?

Draco:No.

Harry: I do.

Hermione: I know Harry.

Harry: I’m sad.

Hermione: I know Harry.

I made a handy diagram

Draco: Fuck the police.

Auror Harry: I am the police.

Draco, already taking his clothes off: Oh, I know.

ron: i dare you to kiss the next person that walks in

harry: ron, i’m not in the mood for your games, i’m trying to defeat voldemort here

draco: *walks in*

harry: welp, rules are rules