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inheritance: part VI
baby fever
INDULGENT THOUGHTS
he loves to bite your clit | henry winter | sugar talking
DRACO MALFOY
inheritance. [ongoing] Draco Malfoy never learned when playtime ends. Raised together in the same pure-blood world, you were inseparable as children—but the teenage Draco still acts like a boy who always gets what he wants, and the line between friendship and possession begins to blur.
SCENARIOS
spanking you with a book | Draco likes to playfully hump you
DRACO + THEO
tit for tat. You accidentally let a nip slip in front of your boyfriend’s best friend, Theo. Draco decides to let Theo punish you.
THEO NOTT
vanilla ice cream, italy's coastline & pantyfucking
got that hung walk + print combo ♂︎ ⋆˚꩜.ᐟ
power outages in florence
Neeeeeeed smth about reader being absolutely obsessed and unable to take her eyes off of him! Maybe loves to climb him like a tree🤭
a/n: I'll reply to all of my requests + asks eventually but this practically wrote itself :')
Theo got that hung walk + print combo ♂︎ ⋆˚꩜.ᐟ
"What are you looking at?"
You’d see it especially after Quidditch practice—when he cut across the pitch toward you at the bleachers—his sweet, precious water girl. When his body grew hot from exertion and it seemed even more apparent from the pack in between his legs.
Of course, his flushed, dewy face and the way his jersey melted to his mass—your name on it, proof that this sweaty Adonis was, in fact, all yours—could already have you squeezing your thighs together.
But no matter how hard you tried to wash your eyes off it with the less stimulating sky, the pitch, they always landed right back there.
Mind-numbing—endorphin-inducing—thick—lazy—
dick print.
So much so you never caught the other girls—lips caught between their teeth—envying the tilt in his gait, the burden of his build.
It didn't help at all to know the taste. Salty, slightly metallic when you licked up and down his water bottle shaft. And the scent. Mannish, pheromone musk always when he gripped your head so tight, your nose crushed against his pelvis. Drooling all over it.
Then, the way his bulky thighs spread as he dropped next to you on the bench.
That annoying manspread.
But how could you be mad when he couldn’t help it? He was so—
hung.
You curled around his arm to stop yourself from palming his bulge and gave him the look. The one he never could quite resist.
"Theo."
He shot up instantly.
"Baby, please—I'm exhausted—" he whined.
You wrapped your arms around his neck from behind, dangling off his tall frame, pouting and persistent like a spoiled child being denied a toy.
Eventually, he would submit to his cock-hungry girl in his dorm, hammering into her cunt punishingly for being so greedy with him.
Draco cared about appearances. Naturally, that extended to the person he called his.
He made a habit of looking you over whenever you arrived. Straightening your collar. Smoothing your hair behind your ear. Tugging your skirt a little lower if it had ridden up while you walked.
Maintenance on his most precious possession.
In his mind, it was simply responsibility. You were his. He didn't want you to attract unwanted attention.
Unfortunately for him, you were careless.
The absent-mindedness of someone who didn’t spend much time worrying about how they looked.
Sometimes you forgot to wear anything under your skirt except underwear. Sometimes you had runs in your stockings. Sometimes you forgot a bra.
Today had been one of those careless days.
You’d run into Theo in the library while he was gathering a small disaster of books from the floor.
“Oh—Theo, let me help you.”
You’d dropped to your knees without thinking and started picking them up, stacking them neatly in your arms before handing them back to him. It was just about the last one when everything happened at once.
Theo stood up with his stack of books.
You looked up and reached out to give him the final one.
Neither of you noticed right away.
When you’d bent down, the fabric of your shirt had shifted—and your breast, that tender swell of flesh Draco considered his personal pacifier, had slipped free from the neckline.
Theo’s expression changed instantly. Shock flickered across his face.
You followed his gaze downward and felt your stomach drop.
Panic hit you all at once.
You quickly pulled your shirt back into place, fumbling with the buttons as heat rushed up your neck.
You stood up to face him. The silence between you was unbearable.
The first thing out of your mouth was rushed and desperate.
“Please don’t tell Draco.”
Your voice dropped to a nervous whisper.
“He’ll kill me.”
Theo just stared at you for a moment, clearly trying not to laugh.
“It’s fine,” he said lightly. “I wouldn’t worry.”
He'd left it at that.
But you did worry. Theo was Draco’s closest friend. They told each other everything.
You knew you were doomed when a paper bird landed neatly on your bed that night.
My dorm. Now.
Your heart sank.
You hurriedly grabbed the nearest bra you could find and pulled it on before heading out.
You had assumed Draco would be alone.
But when you pushed open the door to his dormitory, you stopped short.
Theo was there too.
He sat cross-legged on the carpet across from Draco, loosely hugging his knees. A bottle rested between them.
Theo looked up first, a sly smile curling across his face.
Your stomach twisted. I’m screwed.
“Come here, sweets,” Draco said, patting his lap.
You hesitated in the doorway.
“Draco—”
“Come.”
The quiet command left little room for argument.
You crossed the room slowly and sat down on his lap. His hands slid around your thighs, steady and warm.
You tried to let the familiarity comfort you. To wrap yourself with his frame and scent that you always felt protected you.
Tonight it only made your nerves worse.
Theo watched the two of you with open interest. Draco pressed his lips lightly against your neck as he spoke. It was a habit of his.
“Theo was just telling me about what you did in the library today.”
The room felt impossibly quiet. All you could hear was your heartbeat. The warmth of his breath against your nape made you shiver.
You shot Theo a glare.
“You swore.”
“I didn’t,” he said with an easy smirk, lifting the bottle and taking a lazy sip. “And you know where my loyalties lie, dollface.”
You shifted restlessly on Draco’s lap, suddenly feeling trapped.
Draco’s hands tightened slightly at your waist, lifting you just enough to settle you properly against him again.
“It's okay,” he murmured.
Then he took the bottle from Theo and tilted it toward you.
“Drink.” He felt uncharacteristically quiet, like he was biting his tongue.
“We have classes early tomorrow.”
“Come on. We can’t be the only ones drinking.” Theo chuckled softly, his laugh had such a raspy quality.
You stayed silent, hoping the moment might pass. But, it didn't.
Draco took a swig. Then, he gently tilted your chin toward him.
Before you could protest, his mouth met yours—warm, firm—and he pressed the wine into your mouth with a slow tender kiss. It tasted so sweet coming from him.
When he pulled back, his grey eyes studied your face.
“You worry too much,” Draco murmured.
“See?” Theo said lazily.
Your heart had settled a little, Draco didn’t seem nearly as angry as you had feared. Maybe you were off the hook.
You’d been sitting on his lap for a while now, the warmth of him steady against your back as the three of you talked. The bottle passed lazily between you. What had started as cautious sips slowly turned into more than you meant to drink.
You were always a lightweight.
The wine made everything softer around the edges.
At some point your lips had loosened into easier smiles. Draco had pulled your hair free from its braid, combing through it gently. A faint warmth spread through your limbs, and you found yourself leaning back into him more comfortably than before.
The room swayed just slightly when you moved.
Draco tilted your chin again, offering you another kiss with wine.
You accepted it easily, expecting the same brief press of lips.
But this time it lingered.
His purple-stained mouth stayed against yours, slow and deliberate. You felt his tongue slip into the kiss before you had time to react.
The taste of wine lingered between you.
When you finally pulled back, a little breathless, you frowned slightly.
“Draco, you’ve had too much.” Your voice came out softer than you intended.
Instead of answering, his hand tightened at your waist, anchoring you against him. His lips brushed along your jaw, then drifted down to the side of your neck.
“Theo's—” Your protest faded into a quiet exhale as he ran his tongue up the curve of your shoulder.
Across from you, Theo watched.
He hadn’t moved from his spot on the floor, leaning back on his hands now. His dark eyes followed the two of you with amusement.
The awareness of it made heat creep up your neck.
You dropped your gaze quickly, staring down at your lap instead.
You didn’t want him to see the expressions crossing your face. Not the way your breath caught. Not the way your fingers tightened on Draco’s sleeve.
Behind you, Draco seemed entirely unconcerned with the audience.
“Draco, please,” you murmured, your cheeks warming.
“Hm?”
His voice was absentminded, distracted.
You felt his fingers slip to the buttons of your shirt while his lips brushed against the edge of your ear. He nipped lightly, knowing exactly how sensitive that spot was. You arched instinctively against him.
Between the warmth of the wine and the haze settling over your thoughts, you barely noticed what his hand was doing. One button, then another—his fingers working with effortless familiarity.
By the time you realized, your shirt had fallen open.
“Oh,” Theo’s voice cut in, amused. “Actually wearing a bra this time."
You blinked slowly, his voice seemed so hazy, so far away.
“It was an accident,” you murmured, more to yourself.
You knew you were a lost cause the moment you felt Draco grow firm beneath you—his familiar hardness pressing up through the fabric.
You could feel it clearly where you sat, the shape of him nudging against the sensitive spot of your clit. A soft, helpless mewl slipped from your throat as your body reacted before your mind could catch up.
You rocked instinctively, it always made you so weak.
Grinding against the bulge in his trousers, the rough drag of his zipper through the fabric sent sparks through you. The friction alone felt like it could push you over the edge. You were so drunk, so wrapped up in the sensation, that you’d completely forgotten Theo was even there.
Your head fell back against Draco’s shoulder, breath hitching as you mewled, “Oh, Draco…”
“You've such a good girl" Theo drawled quietly, that you couldn't hear him through the haze. Couldn't see he'd been palming the plump cock under his pants.
Draco's hands guided your hips, rocking you slowly back and forth, grinding you harder on top of him. He knew exactly how this could undo you, how easily the motion could push you right to the edge. You could hear your slick.
Your legs parted wide when Draco shifted beneath you, his thighs spreading yours further. Heat rushed to your face when you felt his hand slide up your skirt, lifting the fabric.
A moment later, your underwear was tugged aside. You were so sensitive, you shivered when air hit your cunt.
“What do you think, Theo?” Draco asked softly.
“Fuck… it’s so wet and puffy.” Theo leaned closer, brushing his fingers against your folds, voice low with astonishment.
“No, please…” you protested weakly, cheeks burning, grabbing at Draco's hand spreading you apart.
Draco’s breath brushed your ear as he held you steady. “Why don't you let him see, my coquine,” he coaxed. “Since you don't seem particularly concerned about modesty."
Draco’s hands began to tug your underwear down.
"Have a taste, Theo. She's so eager to please you."
Theo stepped closer, dropping to his knees between your legs. His eyes flicked up to yours, a crooked smile tugging at his mouth.
“Gods, I'll ruin you,” he murmured, voice low with amusement. You’d never been attracted to Theo, but seeing him like this—face flushed under you, he’d reminded you of Draco.
He pressed his tongue flat onto your cunt, glancing up through his long lashes to watch your reaction. Your breath caught, and you reached down to push away his head.
But then his tongue slipped inside you. His pert nose perfectly angled to bump against your clit. He’d always thought his nose could be the most perfect toy.
He kept fucking you with his tongue.
"Fuck," You breathed.
Behind you, Draco had already moved on to the next distraction. His fingers slipped behind your back, deftly unclasping your bra and easing it away. The moment the fabric loosened, his hand came down sharply against your right breast.
“Ow!”
“That,” Draco said coolly, “is for your insolence.”
Theo stuffed his thick fingers inside your cunt, pushing them deep inside you as his tongue focussed on your bud. He felt your walls compress impossibly around his fingers.
"You're really fucking tight." Swirl.
"I can barely put two in." Suck.
"How are you going to take me, baby?" Bite.
You whimpered softly, a sting of embarrassment. You’d always been on the smaller side. When you first started sleeping with Draco, he’d had to take his time with you—slowly easing you open, adding more fingers one by one until your body learned to take him.
He didn’t slow down—didn’t even seem to consider stopping. He wanted you to come.
"Just like that. Let go for me."
And you did.
"Oh—!" You whined as your back arched against Draco, your body tightening before the pleasure finally broke over you. You came with a soft cry, your fingers gripping Draco's as Theo held you there, determined to see you through every second of it.
"I always love that little noise she makes when she comes."
Only when the tension faded did he pull back slightly. He dragged his tongue in one slow, broad stripe, tasting what he’d drawn from you before finally lifting his head.
You rested your head against Draco’s chest, your body heavy with the lingering warmth of it all.
“We’re not done, my dear.”
His fingers lifted your chin slightly before he tapped your cheek with a light slap, brushing the damp strands of hair that clung to your skin away from your face. As if keeping you from passing out.
Theo pushed himself to his feet, unzipping his pants.
Everything felt hazy, like you were drifting through a dream. Nothing quite made sense anymore. Your thoughts were slow, all you could really feel was pleasure.
It felt like you'd just blinked, and suddenly you were lying on the bed, your head near the footboard. The boys had taken their clothes off.
You were faced with Theo's cock, unsheathed from his pants.
It was thick and flushed pink, veins tracing along the length of it. So hard it almost looked fragile in its tension, as if the slightest flick might snap it. Theo nudged the tip against your lips, smearing the bead of pre-cum slowly across them.
“Be rough with her, Theo. She ought to learn."
You knew the rumors. Theodore Nott wasn’t known for restraint. Of the boys, he'd had a tendency to be rougher, to leave lasting bruises and bites. He had a darker appetite, wanted sex to hurt.
You lolled your head to the side to look at Draco with a tinge of fear in your eyes. You were so used to Draco's—longer, slightly skinnier. The kind that deliciously bullied that spot. The one you'd sometimes see bulging through your belly. Your cunt quivered and pulsed at the thought of stretching around Theo.
Theo laughed softly, "You'll be good for me, won't you? Open up, pretty."
You tilted your head back and wrapped your hands around him. The weight and heat of him alone confirmed every rumour you’d heard. He felt heavy in your grip—daunting, he’d been made to overwhelm. You traced your tongue over the soft head in slow, testing strokes, letting the taste linger as you explored him.
In front of you, Draco had been sliding himself against your swollen lips, dragging his length through the slick warmth there. His thumb had gone pale from how firmly he pressed it against you as he rolled his hips forward. The wet sounds your body made and the heat of the friction drew a sharp hiss from him.
“You’re so slippery,” he muttered, breath uneven. “I can’t even get inside you. You love having us both at once, don’t you?”
Before you could react, he shifted you, lifting your ankle and settling it over his shoulder so he could angle you exactly the way he wanted. The movement was practiced, deliberate.
He drove into you in one deep, sudden thrust. No matter how many times you’d taken him, the length still managed to steal the breath from your lungs. He gave your clit an instinctive press with his thumb, as though he hadn’t meant to be quite so punishing.
The sound that escaped you was muffled as it vibrated around Theo, and he let out a quiet, pleased hum at the sensation. Taking the opportunity, he eased a few inches deeper, guiding you with a gentle hand as your lips stretched around him.
His fingers brushed along the line of your throat in quiet appreciation, feeling the subtle movement there. "Fuck, your mouth is squeezing me."
He began thrusting into your mouth with growing urgency, the pace turning almost feverish. You lifted your hands to his thighs, pushing lightly in an attempt to slow him, your eyes beginning to water from the intensity.
Theo barely seemed to notice, lost in the sensation, using your mouth with careless indulgence.
“Perfect little toy,” he murmured.
They moved together, settling into a rapid, punishing rhythm. The bedframe shuddered beneath you, creaking loudly with every movement.
They seemed lost in their own haze—breaths turning heavy, low groans slipping past their lips.
“Fuck… fuck… fuck."
It was too much in the best possible way—the kind of intensity that melted thought and turned every nerve into a live wire, leaving you suspended in a haze of bright, consuming pleasure.
You could almost picture it as some decadent Renaissance scene—two divinities, one nymph, tangled in appetite and excess. A bacchanal in miniature, where restraint had quietly disappeared.
All because of something so small—an accidental slip, a glance that lasted a beat too long.
You felt Draco thrusting steadily inside you, again and again. A pale, creamy ring had formed at the base where your bodies met, slick and warm. Every deep stroke hit that sensitive place that made your body seize around him.
You wished you could see his face. You always loved watching him when he fucked you—seeing the way he looked when he took you apart.
Above you, Theo was using your mouth freely, his thrusts pushing the head of his cock against the back of your throat. But it still wasn’t quite enough for him.
There was restraint in the way he held back. He didn’t want to finish like this.
Your hand slipped down between your legs, pressing at your clit in desperation, eager to push yourself over the edge.
Draco swatted your hand away.
“She’s enjoying herself too much,” Theo panted teasingly.
“Hold her still.”
Draco shifted back onto the bed as Theo stepped forward and caught your arms. You didn’t quite understand what they were planning until they began moving you.
Before you knew it, you had been guided between them.
Your cunt throbbed at the feeling of both of their tips brushing against you. Seeing them side by side made your thoughts blur into a dizzy haze. You knew you shouldn’t be this eager—but the sight alone made you wetter.
Theo’s hand slid between your thighs from behind, spreading your slick slowly. His body pressed firm against your back, one arm circling your waist.
You leaned forward, bracing yourself above Draco, your arms caging him beneath you.
“So wet,” Theo murmured behind you. “Good girl. You’re ready to take both.”
“Mmm…” you moaned softly.
Draco watched you with quiet indulgence. You knew it would be a strain, but the emptiness inside you felt unbearable—you just needed something there. You wanted to please them, to give them the reaction they were looking for.
Your cheeks flushed at yourself. Only minutes ago you’d been hesitant.
Draco lined himself up first. You arched into him instinctively as he slid inside you.
“Mmm… Draco. Love you.” You whispered.
You bit your lip as you looked down at him.
You weren’t sure why you said it then. Maybe it was your quiet way of reminding him—you still belonged to him. Even while you took another man's cock.
I’m filthy, but I’m all yours.
Draco answered by pulling you down into a deep kiss.
Behind you, Theo slid a finger inside you, testing how much room he had. He hissed quietly at the tightness.
“I’ll try to take it slow, doll.”
You felt the head of him press carefully at your entrance before beginning to ease inside. You groaned into Draco’s mouth.
The stretch was blinding—sharp and intense, that same mixture of pain and pleasure you remembered from the first time you’d ever been taken. Your body trembled as you felt yourself trying desperately to accommodate him.
“Just a little deeper, love,” Theo whispered, the pet name added gently to soothe you.
You pressed your forehead against Draco’s, panting as he pulled your waist closer. When he looked up at you, he saw the strain in your expression—and groaned softly at the new tightness surrounding him.
They both stilled for a moment once Theo was fully seated inside you, bodies pressed close as they caught their breath. You could feel the heat of them, the subtle pulse of their bodies where they were joined with yours. That living warmth made you shiver—you had always loved that feeling.
The pause was brief, just long enough for you to adjust. But it was clear neither of them could last much longer. Soon they began to move.
Theo was rougher than Draco, his thrusts sharper, pushing you forward each time so your body rocked above Draco. The movement quickly became overwhelming.
“Oh gods—it’s too much—!” you gasped.
Your thoughts scattered under the sensation. The pressure of them moving inside you in different rhythms, the deep stretch, the sound of skin against skin—it was unlike anything you had ever felt before. Each motion felt impossibly deep, sending waves of sensation through you.
Your hands found Draco’s instinctively, fingers threading together as if you needed something solid to hold onto.
“Look at you,” Draco murmured. “Taking us so well.”
You glanced down and noticed the faint rise of your stomach as they moved, the subtle shift beneath your skin with every thrust. Draco’s hand came to rest there, his touch almost gentle as he traced the curve.
Draco looked up at you, and your face told him everything. You were teetering on the edge of it all, barely holding yourself together. Your soft moans had faded into ragged breathing, your body trembling with the strain of it.
His hand slid down between your legs, thumb finding your clit in a steady, soothing motion, trying to ground you. My poor baby… let me help you, the gesture seemed to say, a quiet attempt to steady you.
But neither of them slowed.
Their rhythm grew messier, urgency creeping into every movement as they pushed closer to the edge. They were losing their careful coordination now, chasing the same overwhelming high. Theo leaned into you from behind, his hands around your hips bruising, his teeth grazing your neck before biting down.
“Oh—it’s too good,” he groaned against your skin. “You’re too good.”
You felt Draco come first. His body tensed beneath you, the subtle pulsing inside you giving him away before he even groaned. He spilled inside you, then softened and slowly pulled out, breath heavy.
The added thick creaminess only seemed to push Theo closer to the edge. Draco’s cum made it feel so divine, he always came so much you could feel it running down your thighs. Theo drew you upright against him, arms wrapping around yours to keep you steady as he thrusted upwards.
His pounding grew desperate, the slickness between your bodies making every movement easier, louder. Schlick, schlick, schlick.
It was all so filthy—your boyfriend's best friend shamelessly fucking his seed into you.
“Look at me,” Draco panted from below you.
His thumb found your clit again, rubbing carefully, helping you chase the last edge of your pleasure.
Behind you, Theo kept moving, his voice strained against your ear. “I’m gonna come,” he whispered, almost helplessly.
Your vision blurred, the room tilting as sensation overwhelmed you. Through the haze, you could just make out Draco’s lips forming the words again.
Just look at me. As if he needed you to remember that this had all begun with him, even while his best friend moved inside you. I’m the one making you come.
The release hit you all at once—bright and overwhelming, the kind of pleasure that left your body trembling as if you'd had some part of you die.
You slumped forward into Draco, your body trembling with the lingering aftershocks. Behind you, Theo pressed soft kisses along the curve of your back.
“Savour it, pretty,” he murmured. “Most perfect girl.”
He glanced down between you as he slowly pulled out. The cum pooled between your bodies.
With a quiet, almost absent motion, Theo pressed some of it back into you, as if claiming his own place inside.
That was the last sensation you'd felt before you passed out. You knew then this would not be the last time.
EARLIER
“Draco, you’ve really got to control your girl,” Theo said lightly, dropping into the seat across from him in the Great Hall.
Draco barely looked up from his plate. “What are you on about?”
Theo tilted his head, the faintest smirk pulling at his mouth. “She just showed me her tits in the library.”
Draco’s fork paused mid-air.
“I’m telling you,” Theo continued lazily, leaning back in his chair, “if it hadn’t been me, she probably wouldn’t have made it out of that library so easily.” His tone carried a sort of concern. “You really ought to keep her on a tighter leash.”
Draco finally looked up at him. “She thinks she can have the both of us?”
Theo’s smile widened slightly as he finished the thought for him.
“Greedy girls like her need to be taught a lesson.”
In films, we are voyeurs, but in novels, we have the experience of being someone else: knowing another person’s soul from the inside. No other art form does that. And this is why sometimes, when we put down a book, we find ourselves slightly altered as human beings. Novels change us from within.
blaise who is the n1 orgasm denier…you’re writhing and pleading for him to just touch you!! he won’t, of course, he’s laid out his fresh silk sheets and is too busy reading some ancient classic to care. though he’s not heartless, and will spare a thumb-pass over your cheek to quiet your whining.
you eventually fall asleep — and he knows you’re asleep, you’re breathing in 20 breaths every 1 minute — but your needs are restless. subconsciously shifting and bucking your hips against the feather-mattress below whilst blaise finally sets his book down, groaning out something incoherent like: “humping like a bitch in heat.”
hey, omg?
insane.
@sleepwalkletters reminder to write a continuation of this.
Hey, hopefully you are doing well. It’s been quite some time since your last update, and honestly I miss your writing so much. All the stories, all the plots, and the silly reblogs you do.
When do you think, us your readers are able to see some content soon? Again like I said I hope everything is going fine, and please do not take my comment as a demand of information, but more of a I miss your work and I hope to see any flick of hope soon.
Hugs wherever you are .
hey, thank you thank you for writing 🩶 this is such an unexpected, heartfelt message—I'm at a loss. hope you enjoyed the latest update! I always come back, I have the best readers x
HELLO!! Inheritance is INCREDIBLE, you are a very talented writer <3
Cannot wait to read what happens next, but also equally as content re-reading everything up to this point — it’s just that good. Thank you for sharing with us!
I literally love inheritance so much the way you write Draco is so perfect and how I’ve always imagined him to be. The possessiveness, secret yearning, I love the way the grew up together instead of worrying about his family not accepting her like most fanfics. I’ve legit read all of it in one day 😪
thank you for reading! 🩶 i've always wanted to write about what draco would've been like with someone who was truly his equal. what if she was every bit as much of a viper and bites back? what if blood purity and house rivalries were never barriers? what if, in any other world, the answer would be so simple—so easy, so perfect but because of the world they were born into, the person who should've been his partner instead became his achilles' heel?
i have a huge obsession with rivieras and outskirts and coastlines and the tranquility of it, so seeing someone include that in their writing makes me feel so seen💓 (and yes, theo belongs to that place 100%)
absolutely see him as not much of a city boy but living somewhere rural to escape which makes him so lovely to write!
I’m sure you get this quite often, but I have to say it myself; I adore your writing so, very much.
I seriously believe that I will never find anything that compares to your style, even by the slightest. It is preposterous how beautiful your writing is. I’m not sure what makes writing ‘good’, but I am certain that yours exceeds the criteria for that title.
I usually do not interact with posts (as I have an immature fear of people I know finding my account) but your art is so breathtaking that I feel the need to show my support and love for it. I hope soon enough I will be able to do so.
Take care! ♡︎༄ ྀ๑
thank you thank you thank you for taking the time to write. whoever you are, I hope you get the love you deserve 🩶
i wrote a long ass henry winter fic (sfw) that is sooooo much like your draco inheritance fic, which is to say that i am FUCKING OBSESSED WITH INHERITANCE OHHHHH MY GOD YOU GENIUS
pleeeeasseeeee share this with me not enough people are as unhealthily obsessed with him as me 😞
no children. not yet. we're still young, we're not ready.
but every so often,
he went through phases.
it always started the same way.
someone would pass you their baby. a baby shower, a christening, a family gathering where there was always one making its rounds. you would lull it in your arms, holding it like the most precious thing in the world, giggling as the baby babbled.
to you, it was nothing more than affection. but across the room, your husband—who had always spoiled you—would be watching with that look in his eyes which were so dilated, you could see your reflection. and you'd know all rational thoughts have left him.
he thought, I could give you one if it'd make you happy.
your stomach would go woolly. his baby fever was starting again.
it started with little things.
like when he would come up behind you while you made coffee, wrapping his arms around your waist and rubbing your belly warmly.
you would glance back at him suspiciously. he'd only bite his lip, smiling shyly, before hiding that familiar expression of longing on his face in the crook of your neck.
or when he'd be lying with his head in your lap during a film and suddenly, unprovoked, he'd tilt his head back to look up at you with glossy eyes and the slightest pout.
"I wonder what your milk would taste like."
then, as though he'd said nothing at all, he'd turn back to the screen and fall quiet again.
later, when you were stretched out on the couch instead, he'd lazily climb on top of you and tug at your neckline so that your breast would swell out. absentmindedly, suckling on your nipple. his cheek hot at the dip between them as his honeyed tongue rubbed side to side until you were raw.
all the while, his attention stayed fixed on the film, as if this was the most ordinary thing in the world.
then, it would manifest through sex. the slowest, softest sex imaginable.
he would roll his hips like he might grind on a pillow. so tenderly and carefully stuffing his cock inside you, inch by inch, like you were still a virgin, which was so unlike the bruising, receptor-numbing sex you were used to.
whenever you urged him to fuck you harder, deeper, rougher, his hands would tighten around your waist, grounding you.
“that's not how our baby should be made." he'd murmur, almost chiding.
when he was close, he'd bury his face against your neck, his voice barely more than a breath. "m' coming inside," as though it would do anything.
and when he finally came and the creamy head of his cock pulsed inside the deepest part of you, he'd let out a long, contented sigh before pressing gently against your lower stomach with his hand.
his come thick and more excessive than usual.
"do you feel it?" do you feel me?
then he'd nuzzle his cheek to your belly and drift to sleep there, arms wrapped possessively around your waist, as if he believed that if he stayed close enough, if he loved you hard enough, he could coax a heartbeat into existence by sheer devotion alone.
a few days later, when it became obvious nothing had come of it even after he had came so much it spilled out of you, his bitterness was impossible to hide.
his eyes would catch on the blister pack of birth control pills sitting on the nightstand, and something ugly would flicker across his face. for one cruel, selfish second, he'd imagine sweeping them into the trash.
keeping you tangled in bed until you forgot to take them. pretending he hadn't noticed.
but he wouldn't, of course not. instead, he'd sulk and taunt you.
he'd take other people's babies the moment their parents offered and gaze down at the tiny bundle from beneath his lashes, his expression melting unbearably soft.
"I really, really want one."
with the same bratty insistence as someone begging for a puppy—completely enchanted by the tiny fingers, the sleepy noises, the idea of having a mini version of you following him around.
rushed ahead to the sweetness of it all, blissfully skipping over midnight feedings, diapers, tantrums, and every impossible responsibility that actually came with a child.
"look," he'd huff. "I'm holding his head right, aren't I?"
I could do this. I'd be good at this, please.
you'd sigh, watching his biology get the better of him. the primal urge to reproduce leaving him unrecognisable. he can't help himself.
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jacobvanloon
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