5th Day On the fifth day of christmas, my true love sent to me Five crossdressers
(by the way, the Harry Potter ones are always at the end, so if the other fandoms aren't yours, if you click on the first HP one, they'll all be Potter from then on.)
As You Like It (Shakespeare) Orlando/Rosalind U 13 words
“Rosalind…”
“Orlando?”
“Now we’re married, won’t you please stop dressing as a man?”
Twelfth Night Orsino/Viola, Orsino/Sebastian PG 149 words
“Viola! My dear!” Orsino quickened his pace, holding out his arms.
“Sir, you mistake. I am Sebastian.”
Orsino laughed affectionately.
“My darling wife, I know that it is your delight to tease me about your similarity to your twin brother when you are breeched; but I doubt greatly that Sebastian arrays himself in women’s garb.”
“I assure you, sir, I am not Viola.”
“Dear one, close in likeness though you may be,” Orsinosaid, reaching a hand out to his lover, “Sebastian has not breasts; and also he has…” Orsino’s hand crept lower.
“Sir!” A horrified exclamation.
“Sebastian!” Orsino’s response was equally so. “I… I appear to be mistaken in your identity. My sincere apologies!”
The swift, cold bow Orsino received contrasted sharply with the demure petticoats, as the other turned and walked swiftly away.
Orsino wondered (not for the first time) about the family into which he had married…
Harry Potter Harry/Ginny PG 33 Words
“Looking nice,” Ginny said appreciatively.
Harry jumped at the sound of her voice, his eyes meeting hers apprehensively.
“Hi, Gin.”
“But do tell – do you often put on my clothes when I’m out?”
GIFT FOR ceria Harry Potter Lucius/Narcissa PG 224 words
“You said this wouldn’t happen again, Lucius.”
Narcissa looked icily arrogant as she spoke to her husband, her chin tilted slightly upwards. Most people who found themselves on the receiving end of that look thought her cold and proud. Lucius knew her better; knew that she was not angry so much as hurt. That was worse.
“I know.”
For a second, he saw a sheen of tears glimmering in his wife’s eyes; but she had blinked them back. Black training to the fore: no matter what, she would not betray such a demeaning emotion.
“Draco is five now. He’s old enough to see – to… to wonder. You promised, Lucius.”
“Narcissa…”
“No! No more, Lucius. No more lies, no more secrets, no more broken promises.”
She turned and stalked out of the room, shutting the door with a quietness more ominous than any outward sign of rage would have been. Lucius looked at the door, then in the mirror for one last time. The corset, stockings and suspenders looked cheap now, in the light of his wife’s disgust. He looked… not beautiful, but foolish.
“I’ll try, Narcissa,” he whispered to the door.
Yes, he would try. But he already knew that he would fail – again.
Harry Potter Marcus/Draco R 399 words
Draco Malfoy had always wanted to be a Slytherin. Mother and Father had both been in that house and they had told him that anyone who was anyone would always be a Slytherin.
“All the people from the best Families, darling,” Narcissa told her son in the month before he started Hogwarts, “are in Slytherin.”
“Anyone in the highest posts go into Slytherin House, Draco,” Lucius said.
It had never occurred to Draco that there was any implicit pressure in his parents’ words. If Slytherin was The House To Be In, then obviously in Slytherin Draco would be. And he was.
But being a Slytherin was no sinecure. There was a hierarchy, and Draco – at home the precious son and heir of the Malfoys – found himself somewhere near the bottom of the pile at Hogwarts. He might find himself his own satellites – Crabbe and Goyle, boys even lower on the social ladder than himself – but he could not help being aware of his own lowly position.
Still, one could only rise. In his second year, Malfoy made the Quidditch team. His star was in the ascendent until the disastrous game against Gryffindor. Malfoy had a lot of making up to do for that. But a Malfoy was always good at knowing when and how to bow to those in power.
He made a good girl, too. And quickly – perhaps TOO quickly – he grew used to the trappings of femininity his Quidditch team-mates forced upon him. He found himself admiring his own pretty reflection in the mirror as he pulled on his tunic and fastened his stockings. The eyeliner made his eyes larger and more effeminate than ever. Unslicking his hair and allowing it the freedom to curl around his face gave him a look of youth; of vulnerability.
Flint loved it. And what Flint loved, the rest of the team grew to appreciate. When Flint made Draco bend over, the short skirt revealing the pale, rounded bottom of the younger boy, the team were loud in their encouragement. And when Flint thrust inside him, fucking Malfoy until he whimpered girlishly his pain and pleasure aloud… the team grunted approval as they wanked in time.
Being a Slytherin wasn’t always easy. But Malfoy knew how to work his way up. After all, the greatest success required the greatest pains. Malfoy intended – dressed as a girl or not – to experience both.