[Fic:] Coming for what you want, Getting what you need {kink fest entry}
Title: Coming for what you want, Getting what you need
Prompt: Prompt used:
#S173.
Kink: Consensual Imperius Curse
One to three pairings (or 'any'): Tom Riddle/Harry, Severus/Harry, Draco/Harry
Optional Prompt/Extras: Harry knows he can throw off the Imperius Curse whenever he wants, so he loves allowing his partner to use it on him in the ultimate act of submission. Bottom!Harry please
Submitted By:
leontinabowie
Rating: NC-17
Word Count : 5,195
Summary: You have many issues, and all of them come from your own faults, your own insecurities and your own fears.
But at least you also have him. And he gives you a way out of yourself.
The only way out.
Author's Note: i tried to give it my best shot... but i also gave it my own spin, i hope that it will hit the taste of at least some of you, but i am very aware that 2nd PoV is not something preferred, to me the fic would not have worked otherwise. sadly i only realised yesterday, that it would have been maybe even more interesting to be in draco's head, but that is crying over un-spilled milk and therefore stupid!
i hope you enjoyed reading!
as usual all my gratitude to
themightyflynn for the beta and her patience with me, and all the hand holding while i drove myself spare
Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Stepping out of the floo, you are greeted with the same sight as always when you come here: black curtains - which you learned are of a dark royal blue - and an empty room.
You only saw the curtains in their true colour once and ever since, you are reluctant to stay long enough to repeat that experience, because it had touched something in you that could never be acknowledged; that should not even exist.
Yet, coming here ad seeing the familiar sight already calms your nerves, and you dare to take a deep breath and relax a bit.
Here you do not need to be the one in charge. Here nobody wants you to save them. Here you get what you need, even if you are too ashamed to say that you need it.
Before there can be any more thoughts on how and why you come here, there is the soft touch of cold fingers on your neck and a whispered 'Imperio'.
A heavy fog is settling over your thoughts and for a moment something wants to rear up and fight it, make it known that nobody will ever command you. But it dies out faster than it came to life, because more than anything, you long for the loss of control that the spell allows you.
"You will follow every command, and obey it to the fullest until such a time as you are released from this spell."
The command, softly spoken into your ear, settles easily. As it does so, the knots and tingles in your body loosen up or vanish and you feel carefree, the weight of your responsibilities lifted.
"The command for you to enjoy yourself, it is not needed, correct?"
The question is whispered in the other ear. The sharp edge to it, is not something you would miss.
"Not that it was ever needed in the first place."
You are able to catch that comment most likely by design. It was meant to cut. And it did, though not deep enough to hurt. It was just enough to make you aware of your pride, your ego; your likeliness to lie to yourself.
The undeniable truth of the statement is something you want to think about, to agonise over and to punish yourself with thoughts about your own faults and weakness, However the next order already drifts into your mind.
"Follow me."
And you do, without question or hesitation.
Through a hidden door, with its front melding perfectly with the tapestry in front of it, down a short corridor and into the chamber you like to think of as ‘our’s’. Even though you have no idea what this room had been used for before, or if he takes others down here as well, you certainly are not in a position to ask. And in the grand scheme of things, you aren’t sure if it even matters, as long as you can always come back here and feel like you belong.
In a way spending time with Draco has become easier, but also so much more complicated.
Easier because when you come here, step out of that fireplace and feel the spell settle upon you, it is effortless to do what he says, to follow his lead, to obey his every command.
And you like it. You like being called a 'good boy', a 'well behaved pet', a 'fantastic cock-sucker'. Like the way he puts your behaviour into words that make something inside you go wild.
However, that is here. Outside, with other people present, you barely dare to look at him, giving your utmost to never actively acknowledge his existence.
He loathes you for that. You feel it in the burning stares he throws at you when you turn around to shake yet another official's hand. And if you dare to overdo it, he will make you pay, sometimes to your relief and sometimes to your utter dismay.
However, as it is in the middle of summer, the last ball is in the distant past and the next one isn't even in your schedule yet, so there is very little you could have done to piss him off. Of course, there still is a chance that he might be pissed off, because it is easily done. And sometimes he just acts that way because he can; because he wants to.
By now, you are well adapted to his mood-swings. You have learned to read them from the most minuscule gestures. Sometimes you can’t help yourself but be amused by the snit he is acting out; or the arousal when he acts all oversexed and lewd.
It fits him to shift his moods with the blink of an eye, especially since it is so difficult for you to change your own mood.
It’s one of the reasons why you don’t have eyes for anyone else but him. Nobody is able to affect your mood like he is.
"Well, now that I have you here, what shall I do with you?"
The question is asked in a thoughtful way and of course no answer is expected from you.
It never is.
You just look at him, admire him.
The way he has the perfect posture, even while sitting down in what arguably must be a comfortable position. The way his trousers snug to his thighs, while the pressed crease still is in a straight line down to his ankles. The trousers, of course, are well fitted and starched, as are the shirt and the vest.
Now that you are appreciating such things, not only on him but also on others, you have also started to dress with more care yourself. You like how a good suit makes you feel ready for the next meeting, with the added bonus of wearing your robes open.
You still have to put in some effort, and sometimes you are too lazy to do so, but that is okay, because you do not need to tell him about those times.
There is a small chuckle from Draco and you let your eyes jump to his face. Though, instead of saying anything more, he just smiles at you and raises an eyebrow.
Even if it wasn't for the spell you would hardly know how to react to a smile from him. It is both mesmerizing and endearing and that makes it dangerous.
But the spell allows you not to have a reaction; to just enjoy it and what it does to you.
"I know, why don’t you give me a nice show?"
You are startled by the words.
A sudden movement of his wand catches your attention and distracts you from trying to figure out the meaning of the words.
Realising that you never thought about why he is still using his wand at all, you let your thoughts drift away.
You're pretty sure he doesn't need it any longer. You are good at wandless spells but only at what is generally considered the essentials: Accio, Lumos, Nox, one or three handy shield-charms and a few minor hexes.
But you have seen Draco casting wards once without a wand and he also doesn't need it for the Imperio. Is it dedication, sheer will or natural talent that got him to that point?
Or maybe was it the desperation of the time when he was without a wand?
Questions which will forever go unanswered, as you don’t even know how to voice them without starting a fight that would see no winners.
Only when your body begins to move does your brain try to catch on. The last thing you notice is the yet again raised eyebrow and a slight frown, before you turn around.
As your fingers start to open your shirt, you finally catch on with what is happening, especially as you see the orderly lined up dildos and the five- ringed cock harness with the soft black leather, which you hate as often as you are grateful for it being there.
The clicking noise echoing in your mind when everything falls into place, is thunderous.
Of course! He wants that kind of show.
Your cock is already stirring in your trousers, as you imagine all the different outcomes this evening could have.
This is something you can only get when you come here, to him. Your arrangement with him gives you the freedom to act in ways nobody, not even yourself, would expect or allow you to act.
There is a long suffering sigh from behind you before Draco drawls: "One day, I shall teach you how to do a strip- tease so that watchers, or in your case I, are able to enjoy the show as much as the view."
Surprise fills you at the lack of shock you feel at the mere suggestion, as you lean down to remove your socks. Rather you find yourself intrigued. How would he teach you? What would he make you do? Which poses would he enjoy seeing you in? Could you make him lose control with the right movements?
When did it stop being only about your pleasure and start to be about his as well? You don’t know, and you don’t remember. You are certain though, that he always knows how to get the most out of it. But you no longer feel like it has to a battle. You want him to enjoy your company, and come to long for it to the same degree you long to be here, with him.
After you remove your dark blue boxer briefs, you spell your clothes in order and send them to the hooks and the board by the door. Without your wand! Because you can do wandless magic as well, and sometimes you want to show off. You finally graduated from your old Gryffindor- red boxers. And the ones with the zooming snitches. Those had been a terrible mistake. You still can picture the horrified look Draco gave you when he was confronted with them, back when you first started out.
You carefully pick up the harness before you turn around and move in front of Draco's chair. You sink to your knees and present it with both hands as you were ordered to do a long time ago. It is an order you have heard so often that it stuck with you. And so, it comes easily now, and feels natural. No longer is there twitch or any oddness when you sink on your knees for him. Quite the opposite: you have come to relax in this position as it means he will take care of you.
He always does, most likely in more ways than you will ever be able to name.
"Good boy," he praises you easily.
You are unashamed when warmth spreads through your body, arousal in its wake. You stand up fluidly as soon as Draco moves his arm to dictate for you to do so.
This is also what the curse grants you: comfort in your own body. You don’t feel awkward or worried about the things that normally make you so uncomfortable, like your scars, the knobbles of your knees, or that you are not as steady on your feet as others seem to be.
"Such a want on body," Draco says as he caresses your erection with the back of his fingers.
You can't shake the feeling that he wants to say more, but for once in your life you don't feel the need to taunt and prod, but are just able to enjoy the touch.
Then there is cold metal being put around your cock and you can’t fight the sharp intake of breath as Draco fixes it tightly.
"There. All set, Potter. Now I want you to give me a good show," Draco request-orders again, pushing you towards the bed.
Before you are completely out of his reach he smacks your arse in a playful manner.
It is such a turn-on to have his hands on your arse.
On dark nights, when you are not careful you dream about those hands all over your body. So you try to be cautious, because you can only come here so often before Draco will realise the truth, which you hide so perfectly from yourself.
But where you turn a blind eye, and ignore the truth that is strangling you, he will be consider what is happening and use his sharp mind to his advantage, as he always does. And, for once, you can’t afford to get the short end of the stick. Some secrets have to stay secret.
Putting first your hands, then your knees on the bed you slowly crawl towards the headboard. With every movement along the way, you can feel those burning eyes on your body.
"You are such a tease, Potter," he whispers, but you know he doesn't mind.
He has told you so many times before.
Once you turn around and are settled with your back against the headboard, feet pointing towards Draco, your hands start to move of their own volition, caressing your chest, moving ever so slightly towards your nipples.
You know you are touching yourself, something you hardly do outside of this room. But in here, under the spell, it doesn't feel like your own touch. It feels as if his hands are on you, especially as you have no control over the movement. The spell has taken that control from you.
A loud moan escapes your lungs as some sticky fluid appears between your fingers, slowly being rubbed on your nipples. The sensation alone makes your hips jerk. Although whether it is due to the cold feeling or because he has the power to drive you insane without even being close to you, you don’t know.
You don’t want to think about that though, because you are certain you might not like the result.
"Slowly, I want you to lose your mind slowly, until lust is all you feel, and all you are," Draco says and so the spell slows down the movement.
You sink more deeply into the bed, while putting your feet up, spreading yourself open for him to see. You sense his gaze travelling over your body, taking the sight of you in. It sends hot and cold shivers all over your body. How can he have such power over you just by looking? Or better yet, why does the fact that his gaze has this power over you turn you on so much more?
Ever so slowly, your fingers move forward. You hope for relief as your cock is aching and you just wish for a touch there, but the spell won’t let you; Draco won't let you. And even if you could, it wouldn't matter because nothing you do can make you come until Draco allows you to come.
Your fingers move further downwards, stroking your thighs, making the soft skin there come alive with goose bumps before they move back again. A soft moan leaves you as your fingers start to tease the rim of your muscle, and a slow shudder works through your body, need coming alive inside you.
"You so want to be filled, don't you Potter? Need to be stretched to the fullest. You could come just by that feeling alone, am I right?" Draco asks.
And even though you see him sitting right there on the other side of the room, it feels like he is whispering in your ear, making your body throb with want.
"Do it, Potter. Give in to your need, and fill yourself."
You are not sure how, but the first dildo, the smallest of the three is in your hand, while the fingers of the other hand are dipping in and out of your own hole. This time, your fingers move faster, as if the last command has erased the order to go slow. You need to be filled, and you want it now.
A surprised sound escapes your lips as you feel the cold gel beneath your fingertips yet again, but this time it feels a hundred times colder.
"There is pain and there is injury, Potter."
You are sure the words make sense in some context, but you can't remember how they are supposed to make sense. All you want is to be filled; to give in to this longing, that you are unable to admit you even have. You are so ready, and still unable to push the toy in, as your fingers are slowly working to cover your rim with the gel, and then the toy.
Finally, your fingers do what you need them to do and pushing the toy in, making you moan in a delightedly. There is a slight edge to the pleasure. Not pain but still a throb that makes it all so much better. It makes it easier to focus on the pleasure.
Your body moves in rhythm to the pushes and takes you along on the ride. Your muscle relaxes easily and soon your moans go from satisfied to needy again.
This isn't enough, not deep enough, not touching you the way you liked to be touched, not spreading you in the most satisfying way. It's not enough.
An effect even worsened by the fact that you can't control your own body, as it is following orders, giving Draco a show. Your need is being fulfilled, but the spell doesn't care if it is satisfying or not.
"Please," you beg, working against the spell to get control of your vocal chords, to get what you need.
The silence that follows is torture and you wish you could make out Draco's face, but you can't.
"Please," you whisper, desperation now lacing your words, not only because you need more, but also because as your want to be satisfied is building, trying to take control, you can feel the spell slipping, nearly breaking, and fear of that happening creeps into your heart.
"Why don't you make it more interesting for me, and take what you really want?"
The drawled words are like the first sip of water after a long walk in the desert.
With some relief, you watch your hand removing the small dildo and putting it down. Without any thought or input of your own, the largest of the three dildos snaps into your hand. The anticipation is already building. Oh, you are certain it will sting, but it will feel so good later on, and patience never has been your strong suit.
"Aren't you getting ahead of yourself there, Potter?" Draco says, in a most amused voice, when the tip is sliding into you.
"There was an order to the toys because I wanted you to follow that order. I will let it slide this once, because I think some of my statements tonight might have been confusing the spell due to their contradictory nature. However, if you bend the spell too far and break it, I will not be able to save you from yourself."
There is acidity at the end of the words, but all you hear is the warning of not breaking the spell, as your hands switch to the medium dildo.
At least it is satisfyingly longer than the first one. You know it will reach deep enough to at least hit the spot you really want to be touched, even if the width of the thing is unsatisfactory right now.
"Slowly. I want to enjoy seeing you taking it, as you are made for it."
A helpless sound escapes your lips as your hands slow down, inserting the toy inch by slow inch. The muscles in your thighs are contracting due to the effort of holding you up. You want to move, you want to be filled, but you cannot.
To distract yourself from the unfairness of it all, from the need that you have, you let your thoughts drift away from the sensations you are feeling. You focus instead on Draco, sitting there watching you.
His eyes are on you. There is a definite budge in his trousers, his fingers clench on the wooden part of the armrest, and his lips are slightly open. Suddenly, all you can imagine are his lips on yours, as his hands are touching you like his eyes seem to do. His cock, hot and thick inside of you, moving as he pleased. A desperate cry emerges from your lips, as the longing increases. And then there is cold, thin plastic hitting your sweet spot and your cry turns into a moan. It’s not enough, never enough, but better than nothing.
You hear the movement before you notice Draco stepping closer. Your hand is still fucking you way too slowly, not giving you what you want or need.
"You’re act like a bitch in heat, needing to be bred."
His warm breath caresses your ear and a hot shiver works through your body.
Yes, yes you are. You need it; need him to fuck you. But you cannot word it, cannot beg him for mercy. You can only let your hand slowly move the dildo in and out. Devastation! Or maybe torture would be the better word for it. And he has to be aware that he is torturing you. Aware that today there is a need that you are aching to be fulfilled.
There is a touch on your knee, and with little effort, Draco is spreading your feet even further.
"You would do anything just to get fucked, wouldn't you? I don't even have to order you, I could frame it as a question and allow you to act the way you want, and you would do it, without hesitation."
The words take some time to understand, but that doesn't change the effect they have on you. You know them to be true, even if, in the light of day, you wish they weren't.
"Listen to the obscene noises your body is making, as you are fucking yourself the way that pleases me," Draco says, letting his hands ghost over your chest while speaking.
You, of course are unable to refuse the order, so you listen to the filthy noise that is only making it too obvious how slow your hand is moving. Dissatisfactory, but at the same time making you long for more. Some part of you is unable to believe the way you are acting, but that part does not matter. All that matters is this lust and want, and the fulfilment of both.
"Please!"
Begging is your last resort. Lust is making its way through your body, and all you want is release. You need release, because then you may be able to be yourself again, to leave this room and face the world like you do every other day.
It is only now, with the thought of release in your mind, that you feel the hot pulse of your cock, which is straining in its cage. And oh what a horrible yet titillating feeling that is.
A load moan is all you hear, and it takes a few moments for you to catch on and realise that you are the one moaning.
"So very needy. But never let it be said that, I have no mercy. You may even choose, Potter. Would you like to fuck yourself with that toy, or would you like for me to fuck you?"
A sob of relief escapes your lips. The mere knowledge that this will find such an end, and sooner rather than later, feels like the absolution of all your sins.
"Though, if you take the choice that I shall fuck you, the cage will stay on until I remove it. If you choose the toy, I shall remove the cage, and you are free to come whenever you like. So, Potter, decide. Would you like to be fucked in a way that satisfies all your needs, or do you come here just for a quick and dirty orgasm?"
It was a mean game, and it was meant to be mean in more than one way. Asking you why you come here when the reasons are most likely obvious to him. But it is also that circumstance which allows you to get what you want.
"I choose you," you rasp, your voice hoarse and weak.
You come here to be fucked, to be filled, to get what you want. To get what you have no idea how to get it elsewhere. And you choose him, because really there is no choice at all.
It is always him.
You come here because you feel safe with him, feel safe in the knowledge that he will take care of you, and give you what you need, even if it isn't how you imagine it would be. You come here to be you, and not have to live up to any sort of image others have of you. So, even if it is torture and you have to endure it, you want to feel him inside you. Feel the weight and girth of his hard, perfect cock as it is being pushed inside of you in the most satisfying way, rubbing against all the right spots, making you feel alive.
"Please fuck me," you add for good measure, as his lips hover over your face, and you are finally able to see those amazing gray eyes up close.
The twisted thing of it all is that he wants you. He wants you just as badly as you want him. You are certain of it, just like he must be certain of your want of him.
But the both of you are determined to make yourselves and each other unhappy, and right now, as you are looking into those expansive eyes, you can't figure out why things are the way they are.
"Then remove the toy and spread yourself for me, Potter."
And just like that, as your hands start to move on their own, you know again why things are that way. Because you are Potter and he is Malfoy and it only makes sense in this room. Because in the light of the day it would never work. Because to the world you are the perfect hero just waiting to settle down, and he is the enfant terrible, of whom everybody has a certain respect, while also cutting him whenever possible.
However, right now it doesn’t matter. Right now, you are his and in a way that makes him yours as well.
After the toy falls off somewhere, your hands go back to your behind, and as you push your feet more into the mattress to lift your hips from the bed, you spread yourself open, for him to see, but also for him to take.
It is such an embarrassing position, but there is no embarrassment. There is no room for embarrassment in the spell, there is only doing and wanting, and you want him so much!
Draco pins you to the bed with his hot glare and moves between your legs. Slowly, sensuously he opens his fly, sending a shiver from the end of your spine to the other.
Your eyes close of their own volition as soon as you feel him move into you.
"Potter, look at me."
It's a command, there is no doubt about it. As your eyes open, your gazes meeting. shiver works through your body. Becoming aware of his intense stare makes the physical connection become even more real.
A moan escapes your lips as his cock slowly fills you. The first sting of the intrusion only highlights the fact that he is moving inside you.
You are so full with him, and it makes you feel not only the physical tingle of finally getting what you want, but feel so much more.
Yes, this does fill the need to be out of control, but there is also this ache which stops hurting when you are the focus of his attention. You don't mind that that he doesn't feel the same, that for him it is only wanting you, but hardly the way you want him. This way it is safe, this way it can go on forever without becoming complicated, without becoming dangerous. Sometimes you just have weak moments when you realise that he never undresses for you, never is naked with you and you wish he were. You wish to see him, so that you can fantasise even more. But those things only matter in the back of your mind and are only heard in weak moments when you wish for impossible things.
"Going to fuck you now, Potter. And I will do it just the way you like: hard and slow," he says.
His face is so close to yours that his breath caresses your face. There could be a kiss without both of you having to move that much. And for a moment you hope, but you aren't surprised when he moves back up again and starts moving.
And just like he said he would, he takes you hard, deep and slow. Each thrust perfectly aimed to arouse even more.
You moan, you beg, you whimper. He moves just as he pleases, keeping you on the edge. Neither of you closes your eyes.
With fascination you notice the sweat that makes his hair stick to his forehead. He is glowing in lust and that fact in and of itself makes the whole situation so much hotter for you. Even his perfect trousers are most likely getting wrinkled... it makes you proud, though it is a silly thing.
And then, as your voice is growing hoarse, he finally shows some mercy on you and removes the cage. You come even before he has a chance to thrust again. And it feels so good!
All the knots and tension leave your body for good. But this is not the end, you won’t have him unsatisfied, so you try to move your hips again.
There is a soft chuckle, and his hand works its way through your hair.
“Don’t worry Potter, I won’t stop yet.”
And with that, he picks up speed, making your body shiver a bit. But only a few thrusts later his orgasm hits him, making him come buried deep inside you, his head hidden in the crook of your neck.
For those precious moments the world seems to stand still. You feel like you are floating on a cloud, sated and safe. Your eye lids get heavy, and close on their own so often, until you are simply unable to open them again.
You startle awake, but there is nothing but you in the room. Hurriedly you get dressed, before you walk to the floo.
It hurts you that he would leave you alone like that. But you know it hurts him that you need a spell to enjoy being with him. So, by all accounts you are even... making each other miserable.
As you floo home, you dare to wish that maybe one day the truth will find it’s way and you will stop hiding, stop hurting him. But for now this is the best you can do...
This entry was originally posted at https://smirkingcat.dreamwidth.org/111189.html.
Prompt: Prompt used:
#S173.
Kink: Consensual Imperius Curse
One to three pairings (or 'any'): Tom Riddle/Harry, Severus/Harry, Draco/Harry
Optional Prompt/Extras: Harry knows he can throw off the Imperius Curse whenever he wants, so he loves allowing his partner to use it on him in the ultimate act of submission. Bottom!Harry please
Submitted By:
leontinabowie
Rating: NC-17
Word Count : 5,195
Summary: You have many issues, and all of them come from your own faults, your own insecurities and your own fears.
But at least you also have him. And he gives you a way out of yourself.
The only way out.
Author's Note: i tried to give it my best shot... but i also gave it my own spin, i hope that it will hit the taste of at least some of you, but i am very aware that 2nd PoV is not something preferred, to me the fic would not have worked otherwise. sadly i only realised yesterday, that it would have been maybe even more interesting to be in draco's head, but that is crying over un-spilled milk and therefore stupid!
i hope you enjoyed reading!
as usual all my gratitude to
themightyflynn for the beta and her patience with me, and all the hand holding while i drove myself spare
Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Stepping out of the floo, you are greeted with the same sight as always when you come here: black curtains - which you learned are of a dark royal blue - and an empty room.
You only saw the curtains in their true colour once and ever since, you are reluctant to stay long enough to repeat that experience, because it had touched something in you that could never be acknowledged; that should not even exist.
Yet, coming here ad seeing the familiar sight already calms your nerves, and you dare to take a deep breath and relax a bit.
Here you do not need to be the one in charge. Here nobody wants you to save them. Here you get what you need, even if you are too ashamed to say that you need it.
Before there can be any more thoughts on how and why you come here, there is the soft touch of cold fingers on your neck and a whispered 'Imperio'.
A heavy fog is settling over your thoughts and for a moment something wants to rear up and fight it, make it known that nobody will ever command you. But it dies out faster than it came to life, because more than anything, you long for the loss of control that the spell allows you.
"You will follow every command, and obey it to the fullest until such a time as you are released from this spell."
The command, softly spoken into your ear, settles easily. As it does so, the knots and tingles in your body loosen up or vanish and you feel carefree, the weight of your responsibilities lifted.
"The command for you to enjoy yourself, it is not needed, correct?"
The question is whispered in the other ear. The sharp edge to it, is not something you would miss.
"Not that it was ever needed in the first place."
You are able to catch that comment most likely by design. It was meant to cut. And it did, though not deep enough to hurt. It was just enough to make you aware of your pride, your ego; your likeliness to lie to yourself.
The undeniable truth of the statement is something you want to think about, to agonise over and to punish yourself with thoughts about your own faults and weakness, However the next order already drifts into your mind.
"Follow me."
And you do, without question or hesitation.
Through a hidden door, with its front melding perfectly with the tapestry in front of it, down a short corridor and into the chamber you like to think of as ‘our’s’. Even though you have no idea what this room had been used for before, or if he takes others down here as well, you certainly are not in a position to ask. And in the grand scheme of things, you aren’t sure if it even matters, as long as you can always come back here and feel like you belong.
In a way spending time with Draco has become easier, but also so much more complicated.
Easier because when you come here, step out of that fireplace and feel the spell settle upon you, it is effortless to do what he says, to follow his lead, to obey his every command.
And you like it. You like being called a 'good boy', a 'well behaved pet', a 'fantastic cock-sucker'. Like the way he puts your behaviour into words that make something inside you go wild.
However, that is here. Outside, with other people present, you barely dare to look at him, giving your utmost to never actively acknowledge his existence.
He loathes you for that. You feel it in the burning stares he throws at you when you turn around to shake yet another official's hand. And if you dare to overdo it, he will make you pay, sometimes to your relief and sometimes to your utter dismay.
However, as it is in the middle of summer, the last ball is in the distant past and the next one isn't even in your schedule yet, so there is very little you could have done to piss him off. Of course, there still is a chance that he might be pissed off, because it is easily done. And sometimes he just acts that way because he can; because he wants to.
By now, you are well adapted to his mood-swings. You have learned to read them from the most minuscule gestures. Sometimes you can’t help yourself but be amused by the snit he is acting out; or the arousal when he acts all oversexed and lewd.
It fits him to shift his moods with the blink of an eye, especially since it is so difficult for you to change your own mood.
It’s one of the reasons why you don’t have eyes for anyone else but him. Nobody is able to affect your mood like he is.
"Well, now that I have you here, what shall I do with you?"
The question is asked in a thoughtful way and of course no answer is expected from you.
It never is.
You just look at him, admire him.
The way he has the perfect posture, even while sitting down in what arguably must be a comfortable position. The way his trousers snug to his thighs, while the pressed crease still is in a straight line down to his ankles. The trousers, of course, are well fitted and starched, as are the shirt and the vest.
Now that you are appreciating such things, not only on him but also on others, you have also started to dress with more care yourself. You like how a good suit makes you feel ready for the next meeting, with the added bonus of wearing your robes open.
You still have to put in some effort, and sometimes you are too lazy to do so, but that is okay, because you do not need to tell him about those times.
There is a small chuckle from Draco and you let your eyes jump to his face. Though, instead of saying anything more, he just smiles at you and raises an eyebrow.
Even if it wasn't for the spell you would hardly know how to react to a smile from him. It is both mesmerizing and endearing and that makes it dangerous.
But the spell allows you not to have a reaction; to just enjoy it and what it does to you.
"I know, why don’t you give me a nice show?"
You are startled by the words.
A sudden movement of his wand catches your attention and distracts you from trying to figure out the meaning of the words.
Realising that you never thought about why he is still using his wand at all, you let your thoughts drift away.
You're pretty sure he doesn't need it any longer. You are good at wandless spells but only at what is generally considered the essentials: Accio, Lumos, Nox, one or three handy shield-charms and a few minor hexes.
But you have seen Draco casting wards once without a wand and he also doesn't need it for the Imperio. Is it dedication, sheer will or natural talent that got him to that point?
Or maybe was it the desperation of the time when he was without a wand?
Questions which will forever go unanswered, as you don’t even know how to voice them without starting a fight that would see no winners.
Only when your body begins to move does your brain try to catch on. The last thing you notice is the yet again raised eyebrow and a slight frown, before you turn around.
As your fingers start to open your shirt, you finally catch on with what is happening, especially as you see the orderly lined up dildos and the five- ringed cock harness with the soft black leather, which you hate as often as you are grateful for it being there.
The clicking noise echoing in your mind when everything falls into place, is thunderous.
Of course! He wants that kind of show.
Your cock is already stirring in your trousers, as you imagine all the different outcomes this evening could have.
This is something you can only get when you come here, to him. Your arrangement with him gives you the freedom to act in ways nobody, not even yourself, would expect or allow you to act.
There is a long suffering sigh from behind you before Draco drawls: "One day, I shall teach you how to do a strip- tease so that watchers, or in your case I, are able to enjoy the show as much as the view."
Surprise fills you at the lack of shock you feel at the mere suggestion, as you lean down to remove your socks. Rather you find yourself intrigued. How would he teach you? What would he make you do? Which poses would he enjoy seeing you in? Could you make him lose control with the right movements?
When did it stop being only about your pleasure and start to be about his as well? You don’t know, and you don’t remember. You are certain though, that he always knows how to get the most out of it. But you no longer feel like it has to a battle. You want him to enjoy your company, and come to long for it to the same degree you long to be here, with him.
After you remove your dark blue boxer briefs, you spell your clothes in order and send them to the hooks and the board by the door. Without your wand! Because you can do wandless magic as well, and sometimes you want to show off. You finally graduated from your old Gryffindor- red boxers. And the ones with the zooming snitches. Those had been a terrible mistake. You still can picture the horrified look Draco gave you when he was confronted with them, back when you first started out.
You carefully pick up the harness before you turn around and move in front of Draco's chair. You sink to your knees and present it with both hands as you were ordered to do a long time ago. It is an order you have heard so often that it stuck with you. And so, it comes easily now, and feels natural. No longer is there twitch or any oddness when you sink on your knees for him. Quite the opposite: you have come to relax in this position as it means he will take care of you.
He always does, most likely in more ways than you will ever be able to name.
"Good boy," he praises you easily.
You are unashamed when warmth spreads through your body, arousal in its wake. You stand up fluidly as soon as Draco moves his arm to dictate for you to do so.
This is also what the curse grants you: comfort in your own body. You don’t feel awkward or worried about the things that normally make you so uncomfortable, like your scars, the knobbles of your knees, or that you are not as steady on your feet as others seem to be.
"Such a want on body," Draco says as he caresses your erection with the back of his fingers.
You can't shake the feeling that he wants to say more, but for once in your life you don't feel the need to taunt and prod, but are just able to enjoy the touch.
Then there is cold metal being put around your cock and you can’t fight the sharp intake of breath as Draco fixes it tightly.
"There. All set, Potter. Now I want you to give me a good show," Draco request-orders again, pushing you towards the bed.
Before you are completely out of his reach he smacks your arse in a playful manner.
It is such a turn-on to have his hands on your arse.
On dark nights, when you are not careful you dream about those hands all over your body. So you try to be cautious, because you can only come here so often before Draco will realise the truth, which you hide so perfectly from yourself.
But where you turn a blind eye, and ignore the truth that is strangling you, he will be consider what is happening and use his sharp mind to his advantage, as he always does. And, for once, you can’t afford to get the short end of the stick. Some secrets have to stay secret.
Putting first your hands, then your knees on the bed you slowly crawl towards the headboard. With every movement along the way, you can feel those burning eyes on your body.
"You are such a tease, Potter," he whispers, but you know he doesn't mind.
He has told you so many times before.
Once you turn around and are settled with your back against the headboard, feet pointing towards Draco, your hands start to move of their own volition, caressing your chest, moving ever so slightly towards your nipples.
You know you are touching yourself, something you hardly do outside of this room. But in here, under the spell, it doesn't feel like your own touch. It feels as if his hands are on you, especially as you have no control over the movement. The spell has taken that control from you.
A loud moan escapes your lungs as some sticky fluid appears between your fingers, slowly being rubbed on your nipples. The sensation alone makes your hips jerk. Although whether it is due to the cold feeling or because he has the power to drive you insane without even being close to you, you don’t know.
You don’t want to think about that though, because you are certain you might not like the result.
"Slowly, I want you to lose your mind slowly, until lust is all you feel, and all you are," Draco says and so the spell slows down the movement.
You sink more deeply into the bed, while putting your feet up, spreading yourself open for him to see. You sense his gaze travelling over your body, taking the sight of you in. It sends hot and cold shivers all over your body. How can he have such power over you just by looking? Or better yet, why does the fact that his gaze has this power over you turn you on so much more?
Ever so slowly, your fingers move forward. You hope for relief as your cock is aching and you just wish for a touch there, but the spell won’t let you; Draco won't let you. And even if you could, it wouldn't matter because nothing you do can make you come until Draco allows you to come.
Your fingers move further downwards, stroking your thighs, making the soft skin there come alive with goose bumps before they move back again. A soft moan leaves you as your fingers start to tease the rim of your muscle, and a slow shudder works through your body, need coming alive inside you.
"You so want to be filled, don't you Potter? Need to be stretched to the fullest. You could come just by that feeling alone, am I right?" Draco asks.
And even though you see him sitting right there on the other side of the room, it feels like he is whispering in your ear, making your body throb with want.
"Do it, Potter. Give in to your need, and fill yourself."
You are not sure how, but the first dildo, the smallest of the three is in your hand, while the fingers of the other hand are dipping in and out of your own hole. This time, your fingers move faster, as if the last command has erased the order to go slow. You need to be filled, and you want it now.
A surprised sound escapes your lips as you feel the cold gel beneath your fingertips yet again, but this time it feels a hundred times colder.
"There is pain and there is injury, Potter."
You are sure the words make sense in some context, but you can't remember how they are supposed to make sense. All you want is to be filled; to give in to this longing, that you are unable to admit you even have. You are so ready, and still unable to push the toy in, as your fingers are slowly working to cover your rim with the gel, and then the toy.
Finally, your fingers do what you need them to do and pushing the toy in, making you moan in a delightedly. There is a slight edge to the pleasure. Not pain but still a throb that makes it all so much better. It makes it easier to focus on the pleasure.
Your body moves in rhythm to the pushes and takes you along on the ride. Your muscle relaxes easily and soon your moans go from satisfied to needy again.
This isn't enough, not deep enough, not touching you the way you liked to be touched, not spreading you in the most satisfying way. It's not enough.
An effect even worsened by the fact that you can't control your own body, as it is following orders, giving Draco a show. Your need is being fulfilled, but the spell doesn't care if it is satisfying or not.
"Please," you beg, working against the spell to get control of your vocal chords, to get what you need.
The silence that follows is torture and you wish you could make out Draco's face, but you can't.
"Please," you whisper, desperation now lacing your words, not only because you need more, but also because as your want to be satisfied is building, trying to take control, you can feel the spell slipping, nearly breaking, and fear of that happening creeps into your heart.
"Why don't you make it more interesting for me, and take what you really want?"
The drawled words are like the first sip of water after a long walk in the desert.
With some relief, you watch your hand removing the small dildo and putting it down. Without any thought or input of your own, the largest of the three dildos snaps into your hand. The anticipation is already building. Oh, you are certain it will sting, but it will feel so good later on, and patience never has been your strong suit.
"Aren't you getting ahead of yourself there, Potter?" Draco says, in a most amused voice, when the tip is sliding into you.
"There was an order to the toys because I wanted you to follow that order. I will let it slide this once, because I think some of my statements tonight might have been confusing the spell due to their contradictory nature. However, if you bend the spell too far and break it, I will not be able to save you from yourself."
There is acidity at the end of the words, but all you hear is the warning of not breaking the spell, as your hands switch to the medium dildo.
At least it is satisfyingly longer than the first one. You know it will reach deep enough to at least hit the spot you really want to be touched, even if the width of the thing is unsatisfactory right now.
"Slowly. I want to enjoy seeing you taking it, as you are made for it."
A helpless sound escapes your lips as your hands slow down, inserting the toy inch by slow inch. The muscles in your thighs are contracting due to the effort of holding you up. You want to move, you want to be filled, but you cannot.
To distract yourself from the unfairness of it all, from the need that you have, you let your thoughts drift away from the sensations you are feeling. You focus instead on Draco, sitting there watching you.
His eyes are on you. There is a definite budge in his trousers, his fingers clench on the wooden part of the armrest, and his lips are slightly open. Suddenly, all you can imagine are his lips on yours, as his hands are touching you like his eyes seem to do. His cock, hot and thick inside of you, moving as he pleased. A desperate cry emerges from your lips, as the longing increases. And then there is cold, thin plastic hitting your sweet spot and your cry turns into a moan. It’s not enough, never enough, but better than nothing.
You hear the movement before you notice Draco stepping closer. Your hand is still fucking you way too slowly, not giving you what you want or need.
"You’re act like a bitch in heat, needing to be bred."
His warm breath caresses your ear and a hot shiver works through your body.
Yes, yes you are. You need it; need him to fuck you. But you cannot word it, cannot beg him for mercy. You can only let your hand slowly move the dildo in and out. Devastation! Or maybe torture would be the better word for it. And he has to be aware that he is torturing you. Aware that today there is a need that you are aching to be fulfilled.
There is a touch on your knee, and with little effort, Draco is spreading your feet even further.
"You would do anything just to get fucked, wouldn't you? I don't even have to order you, I could frame it as a question and allow you to act the way you want, and you would do it, without hesitation."
The words take some time to understand, but that doesn't change the effect they have on you. You know them to be true, even if, in the light of day, you wish they weren't.
"Listen to the obscene noises your body is making, as you are fucking yourself the way that pleases me," Draco says, letting his hands ghost over your chest while speaking.
You, of course are unable to refuse the order, so you listen to the filthy noise that is only making it too obvious how slow your hand is moving. Dissatisfactory, but at the same time making you long for more. Some part of you is unable to believe the way you are acting, but that part does not matter. All that matters is this lust and want, and the fulfilment of both.
"Please!"
Begging is your last resort. Lust is making its way through your body, and all you want is release. You need release, because then you may be able to be yourself again, to leave this room and face the world like you do every other day.
It is only now, with the thought of release in your mind, that you feel the hot pulse of your cock, which is straining in its cage. And oh what a horrible yet titillating feeling that is.
A load moan is all you hear, and it takes a few moments for you to catch on and realise that you are the one moaning.
"So very needy. But never let it be said that, I have no mercy. You may even choose, Potter. Would you like to fuck yourself with that toy, or would you like for me to fuck you?"
A sob of relief escapes your lips. The mere knowledge that this will find such an end, and sooner rather than later, feels like the absolution of all your sins.
"Though, if you take the choice that I shall fuck you, the cage will stay on until I remove it. If you choose the toy, I shall remove the cage, and you are free to come whenever you like. So, Potter, decide. Would you like to be fucked in a way that satisfies all your needs, or do you come here just for a quick and dirty orgasm?"
It was a mean game, and it was meant to be mean in more than one way. Asking you why you come here when the reasons are most likely obvious to him. But it is also that circumstance which allows you to get what you want.
"I choose you," you rasp, your voice hoarse and weak.
You come here to be fucked, to be filled, to get what you want. To get what you have no idea how to get it elsewhere. And you choose him, because really there is no choice at all.
It is always him.
You come here because you feel safe with him, feel safe in the knowledge that he will take care of you, and give you what you need, even if it isn't how you imagine it would be. You come here to be you, and not have to live up to any sort of image others have of you. So, even if it is torture and you have to endure it, you want to feel him inside you. Feel the weight and girth of his hard, perfect cock as it is being pushed inside of you in the most satisfying way, rubbing against all the right spots, making you feel alive.
"Please fuck me," you add for good measure, as his lips hover over your face, and you are finally able to see those amazing gray eyes up close.
The twisted thing of it all is that he wants you. He wants you just as badly as you want him. You are certain of it, just like he must be certain of your want of him.
But the both of you are determined to make yourselves and each other unhappy, and right now, as you are looking into those expansive eyes, you can't figure out why things are the way they are.
"Then remove the toy and spread yourself for me, Potter."
And just like that, as your hands start to move on their own, you know again why things are that way. Because you are Potter and he is Malfoy and it only makes sense in this room. Because in the light of the day it would never work. Because to the world you are the perfect hero just waiting to settle down, and he is the enfant terrible, of whom everybody has a certain respect, while also cutting him whenever possible.
However, right now it doesn’t matter. Right now, you are his and in a way that makes him yours as well.
After the toy falls off somewhere, your hands go back to your behind, and as you push your feet more into the mattress to lift your hips from the bed, you spread yourself open, for him to see, but also for him to take.
It is such an embarrassing position, but there is no embarrassment. There is no room for embarrassment in the spell, there is only doing and wanting, and you want him so much!
Draco pins you to the bed with his hot glare and moves between your legs. Slowly, sensuously he opens his fly, sending a shiver from the end of your spine to the other.
Your eyes close of their own volition as soon as you feel him move into you.
"Potter, look at me."
It's a command, there is no doubt about it. As your eyes open, your gazes meeting. shiver works through your body. Becoming aware of his intense stare makes the physical connection become even more real.
A moan escapes your lips as his cock slowly fills you. The first sting of the intrusion only highlights the fact that he is moving inside you.
You are so full with him, and it makes you feel not only the physical tingle of finally getting what you want, but feel so much more.
Yes, this does fill the need to be out of control, but there is also this ache which stops hurting when you are the focus of his attention. You don't mind that that he doesn't feel the same, that for him it is only wanting you, but hardly the way you want him. This way it is safe, this way it can go on forever without becoming complicated, without becoming dangerous. Sometimes you just have weak moments when you realise that he never undresses for you, never is naked with you and you wish he were. You wish to see him, so that you can fantasise even more. But those things only matter in the back of your mind and are only heard in weak moments when you wish for impossible things.
"Going to fuck you now, Potter. And I will do it just the way you like: hard and slow," he says.
His face is so close to yours that his breath caresses your face. There could be a kiss without both of you having to move that much. And for a moment you hope, but you aren't surprised when he moves back up again and starts moving.
And just like he said he would, he takes you hard, deep and slow. Each thrust perfectly aimed to arouse even more.
You moan, you beg, you whimper. He moves just as he pleases, keeping you on the edge. Neither of you closes your eyes.
With fascination you notice the sweat that makes his hair stick to his forehead. He is glowing in lust and that fact in and of itself makes the whole situation so much hotter for you. Even his perfect trousers are most likely getting wrinkled... it makes you proud, though it is a silly thing.
And then, as your voice is growing hoarse, he finally shows some mercy on you and removes the cage. You come even before he has a chance to thrust again. And it feels so good!
All the knots and tension leave your body for good. But this is not the end, you won’t have him unsatisfied, so you try to move your hips again.
There is a soft chuckle, and his hand works its way through your hair.
“Don’t worry Potter, I won’t stop yet.”
And with that, he picks up speed, making your body shiver a bit. But only a few thrusts later his orgasm hits him, making him come buried deep inside you, his head hidden in the crook of your neck.
For those precious moments the world seems to stand still. You feel like you are floating on a cloud, sated and safe. Your eye lids get heavy, and close on their own so often, until you are simply unable to open them again.
You startle awake, but there is nothing but you in the room. Hurriedly you get dressed, before you walk to the floo.
It hurts you that he would leave you alone like that. But you know it hurts him that you need a spell to enjoy being with him. So, by all accounts you are even... making each other miserable.
As you floo home, you dare to wish that maybe one day the truth will find it’s way and you will stop hiding, stop hurting him. But for now this is the best you can do...
This entry was originally posted at https://smirkingcat.dreamwidth.org/111189.html.