"Giving Up Dominance" for dg_challenge
Title: Giving Up Dominance
Prompt: #59: predominance
Rating: PG13
Summary: How easily can tables turn.
Author’s Note: Continuing #100: armada - “Handcuffed”.
Giving Up Dominance
Ginny swallowed hard, releasing the tiniest of sounds, which awfully resembled the squeaky call of a small field mouse trapped in a snake’s pit. She wished to evaporate, to blend into the wooden door behind her, to turn into a red puddle of embarrassment and goop, but all her wishes were in vain. Praying for a stray lightning bolt to find its way into the underground chambers of a magically shielded castle and strike a certain boy in his firm, yet naked arse, was also an unsuccessful feat. All her previous multiple choices were speedily receding into naught.
“Let’s admit it… Ginevra,” he smiled eloquently, her name on his lips sounding like an indecent touch. “I was always the predominant factor in this play.”
“I-no, I have to disagree with that, Malfoy,” she stammered, cursing her own highly sensitive personal space that was becoming aware of the intrusion with every single cell, and inadvertently affecting her demeanor. “You were just handcuffed to the bed by me. Naked, may I remind you. Dominance was mine.”
“‘Was’ being the key word, Ginevra, may I remind you?” He asked, smiling disturbingly as his eyes roved the shivering body.
“Now, Malfoy, don’t be ridiculous,” Ginny blurted, wishing her voice didn’t reflect just how unnerved she was by the heat radiating from him and his increasing pressure in the area of her waist. “You can’t do anything to me. I’ll tell.”
“There are a dozen students who saw you dragging me to the dungeons, and another dozen I can buy off,” he whispered softly, the tips of his nose nuzzling into the crook of her shoulder.
“It doesn’t matter, Malfoy-” She almost choked as a gasp slipped past her lips at the contact of his lips on her skin. “I said ‘no’!” Her voice broke and the fear slipped past them heavily.
At that sound his head jerked away from her neck and stared at her, his eyes wide and bewildered. The obvious fear in her hit him with sudden cold and confusion, because it was bluntly obvious that he had misjudged her antics. He had reasonably assumed that she came here because she planned to, that the handcuffs were an accident and that this was what she wanted. Why was she standing there, shivering and wide-eyed like a bloody gazelle caught by a Stunning Charm?
“Why aren’t you pushing me away, then?” He asked, still being pressed to the girl. He could feel her tiny hands clenched into tiny fierce fists, and also shaking. She mumbled something, but he didn’t hear her.
“What was it?”
“I said I don’t want to touch you,” she spoke louder, her eyes averted to stare at the floorboards instead of his stunned gaze.
Though Draco had not felt the slap, he sure as hell felt the residual stinging. His stomach lurched, his face flamed red and he found himself taking a step away from her as if in disgust. However, the disgust was at himself, his own assumptions, his own folly.
“Why for Circe’s sake did you approach me, Weasley?”
“I don’t know,” she mumbled, folding her arms across her chest and still staring at the floor.
“Is it because you knew this would anger your idiot of a brother more than anything else?” He was beginning to get angered himself, because he knew this must have been the reason and he frankly hated the feeling it spurred.
“Maybe,” she mumbled again, her expression almost showing remorse.
“Why you li-” he spat harshly, wrapped a sheet from his bed around his waist and headed to a cabinet near the window. He kept muttering something under his breath as he poured some auburn liquid into a glass, and then quickly downed it. He turned around to find Ginny still standing there uncertainly. “If it wasn’t obvious by now, Weasley - get out!”
Relaxed now because of the distance between the two bodies, Ginny found her voice again. “Malfoy, come on! Don’t look so wounded. You probably use people all of the time.”
“I have the right. I’m a Slytherin,” he explained, downing another glassful. “What you did was misrepresentation, Weasley, and that is submissible in the court of law.”
“You’re going to sue me because I don’t want to sleep with you?” Ginny asked wryly, one of her brows arched in a sardonic manner.
“Yes!” he barked instinctively, then immediately retracted, “Well, obviously no! J-just get the hell out of here! You’re polluting my room with red and gold.”
“Look, if it bothers you that much, I guess I could say that we did… Just don’t expect me to boast about the size, that’s really childish.”
Draco stared at her incredulously. “Are you daft?” He asked in a quite serious tone.
She blinked at him a couple of times. “I’ve been known to have a blond moment or two, yes.”
“I can see that very well myself,” he acquiesced dumbly and turned away. “Get out of my room and forget its location. You’re giving me a headache…”
Ginny couldn’t help but smiling. She had stared the snake in the eyes and had given him a headache. Again. How remarkable is that?
“What? You’re giving up you’re predominance so easily?”
A big mistake.
Within split of a second she was pinned to the wooden door again, trapped by his wiry yet strong arms in a space seemingly too small to breathe because just like that she was hot and her breath came in laboriously. She felt primly polished nails digging into the flesh beneath her light champagne-colored robes, seeking to draw blood down along her spine. She felt pearly teeth sinking into the tender skin of her shoulder with righteous wrath, and the searing tongue scorching out a mark.
She gulped for air, but none reached her lungs, so she had clung to him in her desperation. Her body convulsed as she felt a white charring energy piercing her innings like a stray bolt of lightning. The night shook outside as a spell above her head was gathering to the power harnessed by the young man.
“Mark of ownership,” he whispered hoarsely, and she felt the incantation seeping into her flesh, filling her body with anchored possession and wanton thoughts.
Petrified, she managed to gaze up at the mercurial eyes glaring down at her. His stare was hard, but the hateful line of his lips was harder. She couldn’t help the sinking sensation in her stomach and the burning sensation in her chest.
“This is your fault, Weasley. Know that. Neprofundus,” he stated firmly and Ginny felt herself losing her footing and tumbling backwards.
It took her only a moment to recognize the spell he had uttered, but she had already plopped onto the damp stone floor in her lovely champagne robes, staring at the locked door of Draco’s private chambers from the outside corridor.
She scampered to her feet and hurried away from the door, her whole body tingling and burning and shaking, and her soul in utter turmoil from the residual magical energy. Her heart was galloping all the while she climbed the countless staircases up to the Gryffindor tower, her demeanor wobbly and fidgety and her mind resounding and reverberating a single thought.
“What the hell did he do to me?”
Prompt: #59: predominance
Rating: PG13
Summary: How easily can tables turn.
Author’s Note: Continuing #100: armada - “Handcuffed”.
Giving Up Dominance
Ginny swallowed hard, releasing the tiniest of sounds, which awfully resembled the squeaky call of a small field mouse trapped in a snake’s pit. She wished to evaporate, to blend into the wooden door behind her, to turn into a red puddle of embarrassment and goop, but all her wishes were in vain. Praying for a stray lightning bolt to find its way into the underground chambers of a magically shielded castle and strike a certain boy in his firm, yet naked arse, was also an unsuccessful feat. All her previous multiple choices were speedily receding into naught.
“Let’s admit it… Ginevra,” he smiled eloquently, her name on his lips sounding like an indecent touch. “I was always the predominant factor in this play.”
“I-no, I have to disagree with that, Malfoy,” she stammered, cursing her own highly sensitive personal space that was becoming aware of the intrusion with every single cell, and inadvertently affecting her demeanor. “You were just handcuffed to the bed by me. Naked, may I remind you. Dominance was mine.”
“‘Was’ being the key word, Ginevra, may I remind you?” He asked, smiling disturbingly as his eyes roved the shivering body.
“Now, Malfoy, don’t be ridiculous,” Ginny blurted, wishing her voice didn’t reflect just how unnerved she was by the heat radiating from him and his increasing pressure in the area of her waist. “You can’t do anything to me. I’ll tell.”
“There are a dozen students who saw you dragging me to the dungeons, and another dozen I can buy off,” he whispered softly, the tips of his nose nuzzling into the crook of her shoulder.
“It doesn’t matter, Malfoy-” She almost choked as a gasp slipped past her lips at the contact of his lips on her skin. “I said ‘no’!” Her voice broke and the fear slipped past them heavily.
At that sound his head jerked away from her neck and stared at her, his eyes wide and bewildered. The obvious fear in her hit him with sudden cold and confusion, because it was bluntly obvious that he had misjudged her antics. He had reasonably assumed that she came here because she planned to, that the handcuffs were an accident and that this was what she wanted. Why was she standing there, shivering and wide-eyed like a bloody gazelle caught by a Stunning Charm?
“Why aren’t you pushing me away, then?” He asked, still being pressed to the girl. He could feel her tiny hands clenched into tiny fierce fists, and also shaking. She mumbled something, but he didn’t hear her.
“What was it?”
“I said I don’t want to touch you,” she spoke louder, her eyes averted to stare at the floorboards instead of his stunned gaze.
Though Draco had not felt the slap, he sure as hell felt the residual stinging. His stomach lurched, his face flamed red and he found himself taking a step away from her as if in disgust. However, the disgust was at himself, his own assumptions, his own folly.
“Why for Circe’s sake did you approach me, Weasley?”
“I don’t know,” she mumbled, folding her arms across her chest and still staring at the floor.
“Is it because you knew this would anger your idiot of a brother more than anything else?” He was beginning to get angered himself, because he knew this must have been the reason and he frankly hated the feeling it spurred.
“Maybe,” she mumbled again, her expression almost showing remorse.
“Why you li-” he spat harshly, wrapped a sheet from his bed around his waist and headed to a cabinet near the window. He kept muttering something under his breath as he poured some auburn liquid into a glass, and then quickly downed it. He turned around to find Ginny still standing there uncertainly. “If it wasn’t obvious by now, Weasley - get out!”
Relaxed now because of the distance between the two bodies, Ginny found her voice again. “Malfoy, come on! Don’t look so wounded. You probably use people all of the time.”
“I have the right. I’m a Slytherin,” he explained, downing another glassful. “What you did was misrepresentation, Weasley, and that is submissible in the court of law.”
“You’re going to sue me because I don’t want to sleep with you?” Ginny asked wryly, one of her brows arched in a sardonic manner.
“Yes!” he barked instinctively, then immediately retracted, “Well, obviously no! J-just get the hell out of here! You’re polluting my room with red and gold.”
“Look, if it bothers you that much, I guess I could say that we did… Just don’t expect me to boast about the size, that’s really childish.”
Draco stared at her incredulously. “Are you daft?” He asked in a quite serious tone.
She blinked at him a couple of times. “I’ve been known to have a blond moment or two, yes.”
“I can see that very well myself,” he acquiesced dumbly and turned away. “Get out of my room and forget its location. You’re giving me a headache…”
Ginny couldn’t help but smiling. She had stared the snake in the eyes and had given him a headache. Again. How remarkable is that?
“What? You’re giving up you’re predominance so easily?”
A big mistake.
Within split of a second she was pinned to the wooden door again, trapped by his wiry yet strong arms in a space seemingly too small to breathe because just like that she was hot and her breath came in laboriously. She felt primly polished nails digging into the flesh beneath her light champagne-colored robes, seeking to draw blood down along her spine. She felt pearly teeth sinking into the tender skin of her shoulder with righteous wrath, and the searing tongue scorching out a mark.
She gulped for air, but none reached her lungs, so she had clung to him in her desperation. Her body convulsed as she felt a white charring energy piercing her innings like a stray bolt of lightning. The night shook outside as a spell above her head was gathering to the power harnessed by the young man.
“Mark of ownership,” he whispered hoarsely, and she felt the incantation seeping into her flesh, filling her body with anchored possession and wanton thoughts.
Petrified, she managed to gaze up at the mercurial eyes glaring down at her. His stare was hard, but the hateful line of his lips was harder. She couldn’t help the sinking sensation in her stomach and the burning sensation in her chest.
“This is your fault, Weasley. Know that. Neprofundus,” he stated firmly and Ginny felt herself losing her footing and tumbling backwards.
It took her only a moment to recognize the spell he had uttered, but she had already plopped onto the damp stone floor in her lovely champagne robes, staring at the locked door of Draco’s private chambers from the outside corridor.
She scampered to her feet and hurried away from the door, her whole body tingling and burning and shaking, and her soul in utter turmoil from the residual magical energy. Her heart was galloping all the while she climbed the countless staircases up to the Gryffindor tower, her demeanor wobbly and fidgety and her mind resounding and reverberating a single thought.
“What the hell did he do to me?”