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Birthday Drabbles and Rambling Thoughts
Do ignore this first cut if you want. I'll ramble about birthday!fics and such.
So I had this idea originally. I thought, since I'm writing like a monkey that had been given a keyboard, why not write birthday fics for everyone? Birthday fics are COOL! So I took requests, then failed to write them even remotely on time whilst ignoring everyone else's birthdays. So that's not gonna work.
How will things work? I'm no longer taking requests. People who had asked for a fic (though they are waiting for them for a long time and will wait a little longer) will get a proper fic with some 3000-4000 words, with smut and some plot. And as for the rest ... from now on, I plan to write SURPRISE gift!FLASH!fics (around 500 words) for people that I know well enough to judge what they might or might not like. This doesn't mean that I'll only write a fic for you if you regularly comment on my journal, but it means that it's necessary for us to communicate somehow. You can be sneaky and post your preferences and kinks, and odd things and odd parings, and something or other that I can refer to and then decide: "Hey! This could be a porny drabble, yo! And I bet it will be a surprise if I actually write it!" I just need to know enough about your likes or dislikes, if only because you've been vocal about it on my LJ, on your LJ, or the LJ of a person I frequent a lot. Because if you've just given me a prompt, this doesn't tell me anything about what you like and I still might write something that you actually dislike a lot. And then you'll get a crappy present and on top of that you'll have to smile and thank me for it.
Of course, I might still make a mistake, but that's why I'm limiting the number of people I'll write for, to people that react to my fics and/OR people who are vocal about their preferences, whether through their comments, posts, fiction or art. And/or people whose preferences are interesting. :D I am NOT saying that you have to comment on my journal a lot to get a gift!fic from me. CLEAR?
This is just like RL. If I know someone I try to determine what they like, if I can't determine that, then I guess I don't really know them, y'know? And I'll just tell them, "Happy Birthday" and possibly buy them a drink. Otherwise, I'll end up buying them a Britney Spears CD and they'll curse my name forever and ever.
Note:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
misconstrue and nightlo, I have ides for your fics — finally! — and I expect I'll be able to write them soon. dampandghostly, your fic is half-written and awesome! LOL! I shouldn't say that about my own fic. But I love the idea a lot. kaykayen, yours is all planned out, to the last detail; I just need to write it. And then cuddle it close to my heart. The rest of you, I still have no idea. *cries*
Anyway, now that I've rambled ... I've missed quite a few birthdays. Last month I made no "get your presents" post. And some of these people are on my flist for a long time and I know them well and I feel horrible. So I've written you a couple of flash fics. Four are posted today, four will be posted tomorrow or Wednesday. Or even very late today. (I'm home today. Wheeee!)
IMPORTANT! There are some pairings in these fics that squick ME, I still wrote them cos I love y'all. But please, they are all clearly labelled, and if some or one of them squick you — just skip it. Please, don't whine at me and yell offence. I'm posting four of them at once to spare your flists. This mostly goes for the later post, cos I know those parings will squick some. And that's okay. I'm not forcing you to read. Each fic is behind its own cut. They are ALL NC-17 rated, around 500 words long, and are PURE SMUT. You have been warned.
Forravenqueen55. Happy Belated Birthday! Have some Albus/Scorpius smut. I kid you not.
The Sorting Hat was stupid. This shouldn't have been that surprising, but it was. You'd think that something so old and supposedly wise, couldn't make a mistake like this, but apparently it could. At least that had been what Scorpius believed very firmly. He couldn't understand what the stupid hat had been thinking when it sorted Albus Potter into Slytherin.
Quiet and almost shy, Albus had kept his distance, never making friends, never talking much. For six years, ever since Scorpius had met him, they had barely spoken a word to each other, even though they had shared a dormitory.
Albus could always be found sitting by the fireplace, doing his homework and studying, diligently ignoring everyone else. Sometimes he would look up with his ridiculously green eyes and he'd sweep his gaze around the Common Room as though searching for possible threats. Which was absurd since he had no enemies. Not among the Slytherins. They were smart people after all, and they were very well aware of who Albus' father was, so they knew that conflicts with Albus Potter would be a bad idea.
This just proved Scorpius' theory. Albus was a wretched Slytherin. When others are afraid to offend you, then you take advantage of that; you don't hide in the shadows. Such potential and power, completely lost in Albus' hands. What a waste.
Scorpius had never been afraid to challenge Albus. If only because he knew that Albus would never run home to cry to Daddy. Because Albus had never even reacted. No matter what Scorpius said, no matter what he did, Albus would merely look at him and then, much to Scorpius' irritation, he'd ignore him. As though Scorpius was inconsequential; as though he wasn't worthy of Albus Potter's precious time. That was infuriating to say the least, and it slowly fuelled Scorpius' annoyance until he had developed a slight obsession. He was determined to make Albus Potter react.
Looking back on his thoughts now, Scorpius supposed he should have realised the truth sooner. It was always the quiet ones that possessed a truly wild streak. Scorpius was forced to remember this as he lay bent over the back of the squishy armchair, clutching the smooth surface with his hands and twisting his head left and right, fighting for air. His bare arse was raised high, burning as though on fire. The skin of his buttocks and thighs was inflamed by Albus' punishing hands while his barely prepared hole stung as it clenched around Albus' hard cock.
Scorpius was tossed over the same bloody armchair where Albus always sat, innocently and quietly studying. He was still quiet, the bastard; Scorpius was the one keening.
And Albus was still ignoring him, Scorpius realised miserably. He was pounding inside Scorpius, seeking his own pleasure, apparently not even caring who had offered his arse and let himself be used in such a way. Not that Scorpius had offered, but he did let.
This whole thing should have enraged Scorpius, and well, it had, but it also made him hard. His cock throbbed as it rubbed against the armchair, and every slap against his sore arse, whether from Albus' hand or his balls, pushed Scorpius closer to bliss.
He came, almost howling, much sooner than Albus. And then he was forced to remain where he was and let Albus ram inside him until Scorpius was sure that he'd never be able to sit down again.
After Albus finally splattered his spunk all over Scorpius' arse, rubbing the sticky liquid into his burning skin; and after he had turned around and went upstairs, leaving Scorpius in a boneless heap, sprawled over the sofa, Scorpius was forced to conclude that he had been wrong.
The Sorting Hat knew what it was doing, because Albus Potter clearly knew how to deceive and therefore, was a true Slytherin.
But then again, so was Scorpius.
And if there was one thing he knew well — it was how to execute revenge.
Forawayfromlife. Happy Belated Birthday! Have some Harry/Draco. I didn't forget the almighty chocolate syrup!
It was really hard to stay mad at Draco. Especially when he went and did something like this. And this simply wasn't fair. Harry had been very upset. Draco had forgotten their anniversary — yet again — and that in itself wouldn't make Harry mad, but when Draco acted as though this didn't matter; as though Harry was a sentimental fool for remembering, that had pissed Harry off.
He had stormed out of the house, furious, expecting that when he returned, Draco and he would talk. Not shag. But shagging was clearly the only thing on Draco's mind. Which normally wasn't a bad thing, but Harry was still upset and this was not how he wanted to resolve the matter.
This was just devious.
Draco had waited for him in the bedroom, naked and lying on his back upon their large four-poster bed. He had chained his wrists to the headboard and spread his legs to demonstrate that there was a largish dildo pushed up his arse. There was a red ribbon bound around the base of his cock, leaving no doubt that Draco had decided to give Harry a present after all. A bottle of chocolate syrup rested on Draco's stomach, possibly indicating that he had planned to convince Harry that Draco was a cake.
Harry bit his lip, his cock throbbing and urging him to come closer and take what was offered to him.
"Happy anniversary," Draco said sultrily, not even attempting to sound demure. Instead, he smirked, knowing the effect this display had on Harry.
Miffed by the fact Draco knew him so well, Harry came closer, his mouth drying with each step he took. Draco's breath hitched, and Harry could clearly see that he had clenched around the toy embedded in his slick hole. Draco's cock was swollen and leaking, the ribbon preventing his release and Harry wanted nothing better than to touch the hard flesh and suck it into his mouth. He reached forward, his hand hovering above Draco's body, and Draco immediately moaned and arched upwards, seeking Harry's caress.
Instead of touching his cock, however, Harry reached towards Draco's stomach and took the bottle of syrup. He held it in his hand and grinned devilishly down at his lover. Draco groaned and writhed, pulling on the chains he had tied around his hands himself.
"Yes ... please ..." Draco panted breathlessly.
It was truly hard to stay mad at him.
But Harry managed. He took out his wand and waved it at the dildo, making the toy move and steadily fuck Draco's arse.
"Thanks for the chocolate," Harry said sweetly to his wide-eyed, panting boyfriend.
And then he turned around and left.
Later, as he ate his chocolate and listened to Draco's desperate cries from the bedroom, Harry happily concluded that Draco would never forget their anniversary again.
Formarguerite_26. Happy Belated Birthday! Have some Harry/Scorpius, teacher/student smut. Seriously. :D
"Again?" Professor Potter asked wearily.
Scorpius shrugged.
"What will I do with you?" Potter rubbed his temples, staring at the assignments delivered to him earlier by everyone except Scorpius.
"You should give me a detention." Scorpius tried really hard not to sound eager. He was aiming for nonchalance; he wanted to deliver a careless comment and at the same time project defiance. That hadn't worked very well naturally. Therefore, Scorpius ended up hiding his hands in his pockets so that Professor Potter wouldn't see they were shaking. If he saw it, he'd think it was nervousness or fear, but it wasn't. The only thing Scorpius was afraid of was creaming his pants the very moment his Professor touched him. Well, perhaps he was more afraid that that moment would never come.
Professor Potter gave him a sidelong glance, something in his demeanour telling Scorpius that Potter knew exactly what he was after.
"A point will be taken from the Slytherin House. You may go," Potter said curtly, his tone dismissive.
Scorpius' hands clenched into fists. Enraged, he pulled out his wand and waved it at the door, causing them to snap shut.
Potter made no reaction; he didn't even flinch at the loud sound the door had made.
"Scorpius ..." Potter murmured quietly, warningly, but he fell silent when he looked up and saw Scorpius standing in front of his desk, slowly unbuttoning his shirt. Potter blinked once and then took a deep breath. "You don't really want ..."
Scorpius reached inside his unbuttoned pants and pulled out his hard cock, his hands no longer shaking. He stroked himself steadily, staring straight into his Professor's eyes. He could imagine exactly the picture Potter had before him. Scorpius must have looked debauched, wanking himself like this, with his unbuttoned shirt hanging on his shoulders, threatening to fall down, and his parted trousers that revealed just how much he really did want.
"You're right, Professor," Scorpius breathed. "I didn't want this at all. But you closed the door and charmed them. And then you told me that you'll expel me if I don’t do what you want. I can even prove it. I can show everyone this memory. A memory of my Professor watching me pleasure myself. Because you are watching, sir."
Surprisingly, the Professor hadn’t reacted in the way Scorpius had anticipated; instead of frothing in rage, the corner of his lips curved upwards. "You hadn't thought this through," Potter said cryptically before he rose up and walked over.
Scorpius' hand faltered, but Potter grabbed it and coaxed, "Go on. Keep doing that." Keening, Scorpius shivered and thrust his hips forward wildly, his hand nearly burned by his Professor's touch. His breathing slowed and his cock twitched at Harry Potter's mere closeness. Scorpius wanted him so much. The man who commanded attention and obedience with nothing more than being in the room; the man who's hands handled his wand so beautifully that all the spells he had ever cast in class seemed perfect; the man who his father claimed to hate, yet devoured every piece of information about the Saviour he could reach.
I'll have him first, Father, Scorpius thought giddily, as Potter moved behind him. The Professor yanked his trousers down roughly, and then placed his warm, coarse hands gently onto Scorpius' buttocks. He just held them there, the solid touch driving Scorpius crazy, making him push back and moan pathetically, wanting so much more than this.
Something in the back of his mind threatened to resurface as Scorpius pleaded. "Please, sir. Please, fuck me."
Potter laughed quietly into Scorpius' ear and then placed one hand higher on the small of Scorpius' back, underneath his shirt, pushing him, making him bend over. Scorpius obeyed without a thought, his whole body shivering in anticipation. He had to stop stroking himself and squeeze the base of his cock when he heard the wet sounds of Potter slicking his cock behind him. Then Potter grabbed his arse roughly, spread him wide and pushed inside of him with one brutal thrust. Scorpius gasped breathlessly, shocked that it hadn’t hurt as much he thought it would. His muscles relaxed and clenched as though they knew what they were doing, and Scorpius couldn't take it anymore. He stroked himself frantically, coming within seconds, clenching around the hardness inside him and sobbing as his orgasm shot through him.
Even before it was over, Potter reached around and grabbed his hands, pulling them onto Scorpius' back. He gripped them tightly in one hand, the other clutching Scorpius' hip, keeping his firmly in place as he slammed his cock over and over into Scorpius' pliant body.
Losing all concept of time, Scorpius quivered and moaned with each thrust, loving the position he was in — trapped and left to his Professor's mercy. He had fumbled around with various boys, even with Professor Potter's son, but nothing could be compared to this. Potter moved expertly, experience shining through. His every thrust was angled so it hit Scorpius' prostate, bringing him pleasure even though he had come only seconds ago. He didn't even care when his hands and arse began to hurt, and he didn't care that he felt dizzy since Potter's every plunge shook Scorpius' entire body. Finally Potter finished, groaning his pleasure and crushing Scorpius' hipbone, his spunk running down Scorpius' pale, shuddering thighs.
Minutes or hours passed by and then somehow, though he wasn't sure when this had happened, Scorpius found himself leaning on Potter's desk and staring up at amused green eyes.
And the point of a wand.
"I have to hand it to you, Scorpius — you are persistent. I do wonder what you'll come up with next time," Professor Potter murmured, utterly confusing a very exhausted Scorpius.
But then, for a split second, things became clear as Potter murmured, "Obliviate."
Forthesamanthahope. Happy Belated Birthday! Have some Harry/Draco. Bottom!Harry and a club!fic. See? I KNOW stuff about people!
Harry didn't even know why he was here; never mind why he was doing this. It hadn't been a conscious decision — to dress up and visit a gay club. But here he was, pressed face first against the cool tiles of the men's bathroom, futilely trying to clutch the smooth wall while thrusting his arse back, letting Draco Malfoy, of all people, fuck him.
But it was amazing. The feel of Malfoy's cock deep inside him, moving rapidly in and out, leaving painful burning and unbearable pleasure in its wake. But this was just plain wrong. Or at least it ought to be. Yet when Malfoy had grabbed Harry's hand earlier and sucked his fingers into his hot, smirking mouth, at the same time pressing their groins together, it had felt right.
After all, Harry had been the one that dragged Malfoy into the bathroom. He had been the one that battled with Malfoy's buttoned shirt and his zipped trousers. He had been the one that left bruises and bites all over Malfoy's skin before he had sank down onto his knees and fervently sucked Malfoy's cock. He had been the one that looked up at wide, grey eyes as he swirled his tongue over the leaking head of the hard prick in his firm grasp. And he had been the one that stood up and turned around.
Harry had lowered his trousers and underwear and spread his legs, then reached behind to spread his arse cheeks. Forgetting about shame, he had presented his body to Malfoy, urging him, begging him to fuck him right there and then.
He begged even louder when Malfoy took his time to slick his cock before he pushed inside Harry, hot and hard and perfect.
"You're so fucking hard for me, Potter," Malfoy panted, never pausing in his thrusts, his hand wrapped firmly around Harry's cock. "You like this, don't you? You like having a cock up your arse. You love being bent over and ridden hard. Tell me." It was odd how that last part sounded more like a desperate plea than an order.
"I love having your cock inside me." Surely someone else had said that, not Harry. It didn't even sound like Harry's voice — low and guttural, filled with need and honesty.
Malfoy's breath hitched and his thrusts turned erratic. He leaned in and whispered, "I want ..." He didn't finish his thought, because in that moment his body stiffened and the cock buried inside Harry throbbed, before hot wetness filled his arse.
Harry could feel the shudders that raked through the body pressed flush against his, especially after Malfoy pulled him back, letting Harry's head rest on his shoulder. Malfoy's hand on Harry's cock had never stopped moving, steadily bringing him closer to completion.
"Why now?" Malfoy breathed into Harry's ear.
It was hard to think; Harry's orgasm rushed forward, blinding him and taking away all rational thought. Perhaps that was a good thing because Harry couldn't articulate why he had come here, week after week, seeking out Malfoy, but never letting him do anything. Not until now. He didn't even dare to think about all this. Gasping, he managed to raise his hand and press his fingers against Malfoy's lips; fingers that Malfoy had in his mouth mere minutes ago, though he had failed to notice that they were bare, freed of the wedding ring that used to burn Harry's skin.
But Malfoy had noticed now. Harry knew he had because he could feel Malfoy smile against his hand.
And only then did Harry admit to himself that the decision to come here tonight wasn't as unconscious as he had believed.
In fact, for the first time in a long time, he was actually sure that he knew exactly what he was doing. And perhaps all would be well after all.
So I had this idea originally. I thought, since I'm writing like a monkey that had been given a keyboard, why not write birthday fics for everyone? Birthday fics are COOL! So I took requests, then failed to write them even remotely on time whilst ignoring everyone else's birthdays. So that's not gonna work.
How will things work? I'm no longer taking requests. People who had asked for a fic (though they are waiting for them for a long time and will wait a little longer) will get a proper fic with some 3000-4000 words, with smut and some plot. And as for the rest ... from now on, I plan to write SURPRISE gift!FLASH!fics (around 500 words) for people that I know well enough to judge what they might or might not like. This doesn't mean that I'll only write a fic for you if you regularly comment on my journal, but it means that it's necessary for us to communicate somehow. You can be sneaky and post your preferences and kinks, and odd things and odd parings, and something or other that I can refer to and then decide: "Hey! This could be a porny drabble, yo! And I bet it will be a surprise if I actually write it!" I just need to know enough about your likes or dislikes, if only because you've been vocal about it on my LJ, on your LJ, or the LJ of a person I frequent a lot. Because if you've just given me a prompt, this doesn't tell me anything about what you like and I still might write something that you actually dislike a lot. And then you'll get a crappy present and on top of that you'll have to smile and thank me for it.
Of course, I might still make a mistake, but that's why I'm limiting the number of people I'll write for, to people that react to my fics and/OR people who are vocal about their preferences, whether through their comments, posts, fiction or art. And/or people whose preferences are interesting. :D I am NOT saying that you have to comment on my journal a lot to get a gift!fic from me. CLEAR?
This is just like RL. If I know someone I try to determine what they like, if I can't determine that, then I guess I don't really know them, y'know? And I'll just tell them, "Happy Birthday" and possibly buy them a drink. Otherwise, I'll end up buying them a Britney Spears CD and they'll curse my name forever and ever.
Note:
misconstrue and nightlo, I have ides for your fics — finally! — and I expect I'll be able to write them soon. dampandghostly, your fic is half-written and awesome! LOL! I shouldn't say that about my own fic. But I love the idea a lot. kaykayen, yours is all planned out, to the last detail; I just need to write it. And then cuddle it close to my heart. The rest of you, I still have no idea. *cries*Anyway, now that I've rambled ... I've missed quite a few birthdays. Last month I made no "get your presents" post. And some of these people are on my flist for a long time and I know them well and I feel horrible. So I've written you a couple of flash fics. Four are posted today, four will be posted tomorrow or Wednesday. Or even very late today. (I'm home today. Wheeee!)
IMPORTANT! There are some pairings in these fics that squick ME, I still wrote them cos I love y'all. But please, they are all clearly labelled, and if some or one of them squick you — just skip it. Please, don't whine at me and yell offence. I'm posting four of them at once to spare your flists. This mostly goes for the later post, cos I know those parings will squick some. And that's okay. I'm not forcing you to read. Each fic is behind its own cut. They are ALL NC-17 rated, around 500 words long, and are PURE SMUT. You have been warned.
For
ravenqueen55. Happy Belated Birthday! Have some Albus/Scorpius smut. I kid you not. The Sorting Hat was stupid. This shouldn't have been that surprising, but it was. You'd think that something so old and supposedly wise, couldn't make a mistake like this, but apparently it could. At least that had been what Scorpius believed very firmly. He couldn't understand what the stupid hat had been thinking when it sorted Albus Potter into Slytherin.
Quiet and almost shy, Albus had kept his distance, never making friends, never talking much. For six years, ever since Scorpius had met him, they had barely spoken a word to each other, even though they had shared a dormitory.
Albus could always be found sitting by the fireplace, doing his homework and studying, diligently ignoring everyone else. Sometimes he would look up with his ridiculously green eyes and he'd sweep his gaze around the Common Room as though searching for possible threats. Which was absurd since he had no enemies. Not among the Slytherins. They were smart people after all, and they were very well aware of who Albus' father was, so they knew that conflicts with Albus Potter would be a bad idea.
This just proved Scorpius' theory. Albus was a wretched Slytherin. When others are afraid to offend you, then you take advantage of that; you don't hide in the shadows. Such potential and power, completely lost in Albus' hands. What a waste.
Scorpius had never been afraid to challenge Albus. If only because he knew that Albus would never run home to cry to Daddy. Because Albus had never even reacted. No matter what Scorpius said, no matter what he did, Albus would merely look at him and then, much to Scorpius' irritation, he'd ignore him. As though Scorpius was inconsequential; as though he wasn't worthy of Albus Potter's precious time. That was infuriating to say the least, and it slowly fuelled Scorpius' annoyance until he had developed a slight obsession. He was determined to make Albus Potter react.
Looking back on his thoughts now, Scorpius supposed he should have realised the truth sooner. It was always the quiet ones that possessed a truly wild streak. Scorpius was forced to remember this as he lay bent over the back of the squishy armchair, clutching the smooth surface with his hands and twisting his head left and right, fighting for air. His bare arse was raised high, burning as though on fire. The skin of his buttocks and thighs was inflamed by Albus' punishing hands while his barely prepared hole stung as it clenched around Albus' hard cock.
Scorpius was tossed over the same bloody armchair where Albus always sat, innocently and quietly studying. He was still quiet, the bastard; Scorpius was the one keening.
And Albus was still ignoring him, Scorpius realised miserably. He was pounding inside Scorpius, seeking his own pleasure, apparently not even caring who had offered his arse and let himself be used in such a way. Not that Scorpius had offered, but he did let.
This whole thing should have enraged Scorpius, and well, it had, but it also made him hard. His cock throbbed as it rubbed against the armchair, and every slap against his sore arse, whether from Albus' hand or his balls, pushed Scorpius closer to bliss.
He came, almost howling, much sooner than Albus. And then he was forced to remain where he was and let Albus ram inside him until Scorpius was sure that he'd never be able to sit down again.
After Albus finally splattered his spunk all over Scorpius' arse, rubbing the sticky liquid into his burning skin; and after he had turned around and went upstairs, leaving Scorpius in a boneless heap, sprawled over the sofa, Scorpius was forced to conclude that he had been wrong.
The Sorting Hat knew what it was doing, because Albus Potter clearly knew how to deceive and therefore, was a true Slytherin.
But then again, so was Scorpius.
And if there was one thing he knew well — it was how to execute revenge.
For
awayfromlife. Happy Belated Birthday! Have some Harry/Draco. I didn't forget the almighty chocolate syrup! It was really hard to stay mad at Draco. Especially when he went and did something like this. And this simply wasn't fair. Harry had been very upset. Draco had forgotten their anniversary — yet again — and that in itself wouldn't make Harry mad, but when Draco acted as though this didn't matter; as though Harry was a sentimental fool for remembering, that had pissed Harry off.
He had stormed out of the house, furious, expecting that when he returned, Draco and he would talk. Not shag. But shagging was clearly the only thing on Draco's mind. Which normally wasn't a bad thing, but Harry was still upset and this was not how he wanted to resolve the matter.
This was just devious.
Draco had waited for him in the bedroom, naked and lying on his back upon their large four-poster bed. He had chained his wrists to the headboard and spread his legs to demonstrate that there was a largish dildo pushed up his arse. There was a red ribbon bound around the base of his cock, leaving no doubt that Draco had decided to give Harry a present after all. A bottle of chocolate syrup rested on Draco's stomach, possibly indicating that he had planned to convince Harry that Draco was a cake.
Harry bit his lip, his cock throbbing and urging him to come closer and take what was offered to him.
"Happy anniversary," Draco said sultrily, not even attempting to sound demure. Instead, he smirked, knowing the effect this display had on Harry.
Miffed by the fact Draco knew him so well, Harry came closer, his mouth drying with each step he took. Draco's breath hitched, and Harry could clearly see that he had clenched around the toy embedded in his slick hole. Draco's cock was swollen and leaking, the ribbon preventing his release and Harry wanted nothing better than to touch the hard flesh and suck it into his mouth. He reached forward, his hand hovering above Draco's body, and Draco immediately moaned and arched upwards, seeking Harry's caress.
Instead of touching his cock, however, Harry reached towards Draco's stomach and took the bottle of syrup. He held it in his hand and grinned devilishly down at his lover. Draco groaned and writhed, pulling on the chains he had tied around his hands himself.
"Yes ... please ..." Draco panted breathlessly.
It was truly hard to stay mad at him.
But Harry managed. He took out his wand and waved it at the dildo, making the toy move and steadily fuck Draco's arse.
"Thanks for the chocolate," Harry said sweetly to his wide-eyed, panting boyfriend.
And then he turned around and left.
Later, as he ate his chocolate and listened to Draco's desperate cries from the bedroom, Harry happily concluded that Draco would never forget their anniversary again.
For
marguerite_26. Happy Belated Birthday! Have some Harry/Scorpius, teacher/student smut. Seriously. :D"Again?" Professor Potter asked wearily.
Scorpius shrugged.
"What will I do with you?" Potter rubbed his temples, staring at the assignments delivered to him earlier by everyone except Scorpius.
"You should give me a detention." Scorpius tried really hard not to sound eager. He was aiming for nonchalance; he wanted to deliver a careless comment and at the same time project defiance. That hadn't worked very well naturally. Therefore, Scorpius ended up hiding his hands in his pockets so that Professor Potter wouldn't see they were shaking. If he saw it, he'd think it was nervousness or fear, but it wasn't. The only thing Scorpius was afraid of was creaming his pants the very moment his Professor touched him. Well, perhaps he was more afraid that that moment would never come.
Professor Potter gave him a sidelong glance, something in his demeanour telling Scorpius that Potter knew exactly what he was after.
"A point will be taken from the Slytherin House. You may go," Potter said curtly, his tone dismissive.
Scorpius' hands clenched into fists. Enraged, he pulled out his wand and waved it at the door, causing them to snap shut.
Potter made no reaction; he didn't even flinch at the loud sound the door had made.
"Scorpius ..." Potter murmured quietly, warningly, but he fell silent when he looked up and saw Scorpius standing in front of his desk, slowly unbuttoning his shirt. Potter blinked once and then took a deep breath. "You don't really want ..."
Scorpius reached inside his unbuttoned pants and pulled out his hard cock, his hands no longer shaking. He stroked himself steadily, staring straight into his Professor's eyes. He could imagine exactly the picture Potter had before him. Scorpius must have looked debauched, wanking himself like this, with his unbuttoned shirt hanging on his shoulders, threatening to fall down, and his parted trousers that revealed just how much he really did want.
"You're right, Professor," Scorpius breathed. "I didn't want this at all. But you closed the door and charmed them. And then you told me that you'll expel me if I don’t do what you want. I can even prove it. I can show everyone this memory. A memory of my Professor watching me pleasure myself. Because you are watching, sir."
Surprisingly, the Professor hadn’t reacted in the way Scorpius had anticipated; instead of frothing in rage, the corner of his lips curved upwards. "You hadn't thought this through," Potter said cryptically before he rose up and walked over.
Scorpius' hand faltered, but Potter grabbed it and coaxed, "Go on. Keep doing that." Keening, Scorpius shivered and thrust his hips forward wildly, his hand nearly burned by his Professor's touch. His breathing slowed and his cock twitched at Harry Potter's mere closeness. Scorpius wanted him so much. The man who commanded attention and obedience with nothing more than being in the room; the man who's hands handled his wand so beautifully that all the spells he had ever cast in class seemed perfect; the man who his father claimed to hate, yet devoured every piece of information about the Saviour he could reach.
I'll have him first, Father, Scorpius thought giddily, as Potter moved behind him. The Professor yanked his trousers down roughly, and then placed his warm, coarse hands gently onto Scorpius' buttocks. He just held them there, the solid touch driving Scorpius crazy, making him push back and moan pathetically, wanting so much more than this.
Something in the back of his mind threatened to resurface as Scorpius pleaded. "Please, sir. Please, fuck me."
Potter laughed quietly into Scorpius' ear and then placed one hand higher on the small of Scorpius' back, underneath his shirt, pushing him, making him bend over. Scorpius obeyed without a thought, his whole body shivering in anticipation. He had to stop stroking himself and squeeze the base of his cock when he heard the wet sounds of Potter slicking his cock behind him. Then Potter grabbed his arse roughly, spread him wide and pushed inside of him with one brutal thrust. Scorpius gasped breathlessly, shocked that it hadn’t hurt as much he thought it would. His muscles relaxed and clenched as though they knew what they were doing, and Scorpius couldn't take it anymore. He stroked himself frantically, coming within seconds, clenching around the hardness inside him and sobbing as his orgasm shot through him.
Even before it was over, Potter reached around and grabbed his hands, pulling them onto Scorpius' back. He gripped them tightly in one hand, the other clutching Scorpius' hip, keeping his firmly in place as he slammed his cock over and over into Scorpius' pliant body.
Losing all concept of time, Scorpius quivered and moaned with each thrust, loving the position he was in — trapped and left to his Professor's mercy. He had fumbled around with various boys, even with Professor Potter's son, but nothing could be compared to this. Potter moved expertly, experience shining through. His every thrust was angled so it hit Scorpius' prostate, bringing him pleasure even though he had come only seconds ago. He didn't even care when his hands and arse began to hurt, and he didn't care that he felt dizzy since Potter's every plunge shook Scorpius' entire body. Finally Potter finished, groaning his pleasure and crushing Scorpius' hipbone, his spunk running down Scorpius' pale, shuddering thighs.
Minutes or hours passed by and then somehow, though he wasn't sure when this had happened, Scorpius found himself leaning on Potter's desk and staring up at amused green eyes.
And the point of a wand.
"I have to hand it to you, Scorpius — you are persistent. I do wonder what you'll come up with next time," Professor Potter murmured, utterly confusing a very exhausted Scorpius.
But then, for a split second, things became clear as Potter murmured, "Obliviate."
For
thesamanthahope. Happy Belated Birthday! Have some Harry/Draco. Bottom!Harry and a club!fic. See? I KNOW stuff about people! Harry didn't even know why he was here; never mind why he was doing this. It hadn't been a conscious decision — to dress up and visit a gay club. But here he was, pressed face first against the cool tiles of the men's bathroom, futilely trying to clutch the smooth wall while thrusting his arse back, letting Draco Malfoy, of all people, fuck him.
But it was amazing. The feel of Malfoy's cock deep inside him, moving rapidly in and out, leaving painful burning and unbearable pleasure in its wake. But this was just plain wrong. Or at least it ought to be. Yet when Malfoy had grabbed Harry's hand earlier and sucked his fingers into his hot, smirking mouth, at the same time pressing their groins together, it had felt right.
After all, Harry had been the one that dragged Malfoy into the bathroom. He had been the one that battled with Malfoy's buttoned shirt and his zipped trousers. He had been the one that left bruises and bites all over Malfoy's skin before he had sank down onto his knees and fervently sucked Malfoy's cock. He had been the one that looked up at wide, grey eyes as he swirled his tongue over the leaking head of the hard prick in his firm grasp. And he had been the one that stood up and turned around.
Harry had lowered his trousers and underwear and spread his legs, then reached behind to spread his arse cheeks. Forgetting about shame, he had presented his body to Malfoy, urging him, begging him to fuck him right there and then.
He begged even louder when Malfoy took his time to slick his cock before he pushed inside Harry, hot and hard and perfect.
"You're so fucking hard for me, Potter," Malfoy panted, never pausing in his thrusts, his hand wrapped firmly around Harry's cock. "You like this, don't you? You like having a cock up your arse. You love being bent over and ridden hard. Tell me." It was odd how that last part sounded more like a desperate plea than an order.
"I love having your cock inside me." Surely someone else had said that, not Harry. It didn't even sound like Harry's voice — low and guttural, filled with need and honesty.
Malfoy's breath hitched and his thrusts turned erratic. He leaned in and whispered, "I want ..." He didn't finish his thought, because in that moment his body stiffened and the cock buried inside Harry throbbed, before hot wetness filled his arse.
Harry could feel the shudders that raked through the body pressed flush against his, especially after Malfoy pulled him back, letting Harry's head rest on his shoulder. Malfoy's hand on Harry's cock had never stopped moving, steadily bringing him closer to completion.
"Why now?" Malfoy breathed into Harry's ear.
It was hard to think; Harry's orgasm rushed forward, blinding him and taking away all rational thought. Perhaps that was a good thing because Harry couldn't articulate why he had come here, week after week, seeking out Malfoy, but never letting him do anything. Not until now. He didn't even dare to think about all this. Gasping, he managed to raise his hand and press his fingers against Malfoy's lips; fingers that Malfoy had in his mouth mere minutes ago, though he had failed to notice that they were bare, freed of the wedding ring that used to burn Harry's skin.
But Malfoy had noticed now. Harry knew he had because he could feel Malfoy smile against his hand.
And only then did Harry admit to himself that the decision to come here tonight wasn't as unconscious as he had believed.
In fact, for the first time in a long time, he was actually sure that he knew exactly what he was doing. And perhaps all would be well after all.