Something SpecialWord count:
Most shameless id-fic ever: vamp!Harry and virgin!Draco non-con PWP.Warnings: non-con
. Um. Forced turning?Disclaimer:
The boys and girls belong to JKR, even though I’m often much nicer to them than she is.Author’s Notes:
This was written as part of my drabble meme for sra_danvers
, who requested Drarry, vamp Harry
. I’m using it as my consent play
square for Kink Bingo. Another one written as a drabble set with the pauses stripped out.
“I hear there’s something special about your blood after all, Malfoy.”
Draco swallowed. Potter’s glittering eyes followed the movement of his throat.
“Are you sure?”
“I’m very sure,” Potter purred, coming smooth and inexorable towards him. Draco scrambled up from his desk, cursing internally. Fucking Woods put him on the nightshift and he still wasn’t allowed a wand inside the Ministry and now Harry Potter, Super Auror was going to eat him.
He wondered if Potter could hear his heart beating.
“But it’s not that you’re a pureblood, Malfoy...” Potter was coming round the desk. Draco backed against the wall.
Potter was on him: close enough that Draco could’ve felt his warmth if there was any warmth to be had. Potter’s eyes were piercing, his face wearing an unsettling grin. Draco turned his face away. He didn’t want to look his own death in the eyes.
Potter whispered, “it’s that you’re a virgin
“What?” Draco half-whimpered. Potter’s cool fingers turned his face back to his. Potter tilted his head to one side, the better to ogle Draco’s jumping pulse.
“Virgins taste sweet, Malfoy. And I can smell that you’re untouched.”
The possibility of lying turned to ashes in Draco’s mouth.
Potter took hold of his upper arms and turned him to face the wall. Draco tried struggling but Potter’s grip had no give: it was like struggling against iron. And if he ran, Potter would be on him in a second.
Potter’s hands circled his waist, and Draco felt them undoing the button on his trousers, unzipping the fly. Stupid Muggle clothes, that he’d only worn to try and win over his boss... his trousers fell to his ankles, swiftly followed by his boxers. Draco shuddered as Potter stroked his bare right hip. “There, now. All ready.”
ready – ”
“I suppose not,” Potter said thoughtfully. A mutter, and Potter pushed a tube into Draco’s hand. “Go on.”
It was lube. Tears slipped from Draco’s eyes, but he was too mindless with fear to disobey. He felt Potter watching as he penetrated and stretched himself with slick fingers. His cheeks went hot at the slick sounds of it.
“Enough,” Potter said suddenly, and his rough voice sounded as it always had. He pushed Draco’s hands aside. “Spread your fucking legs, go on.” Draco began to, and Potter forced his way between Draco’s thighs, too impatient to wait on Draco’s shuffling fear.
A whine of pure terror escaped Draco’s throat: he was flattened against the wall, Potter strong and magical and inescapably between his legs. And he’d undone his robes; his erection was pressed against Draco’s arse.
Potter took a handful of Draco’s hair and pulled, forcing his head to one side and baring his throat. Draco was crying harder now, and trembling against Potter’s cool body.
The points of his fangs pinpricked the sensitive flesh of Draco’s neck.
For a moment there was nothing else as Draco’s stomach swooped in panic, and then Potter thrust himself forward, forcing his way inside.
Draco howled. Potter groaned thickly and bit down.
Draco felt his knees weaken instantaneously at the sensation of Potter sucking at his neck, drawing his lifeblood from him so fast. His mind broke apart with the weird rush of it – and then Potter was rutting, fucking him sore and open, every thrust banging his chest and hips against the wall, and Draco was firmly back in his body and screaming.
Screaming from the fear, the pain, the violation: but more than that from the mad rush of pained sensation, the overwhelming feelings that seemed to come at him like monsters.
The screams died quickly though: something ingrained in Draco said be quiet and you’re less entertaining
the moment the panic faded a little. He was reducing to groaning as Potter shook him like a puppy in its mother’s mouth. Potter’s cock felt huge inside him, unprepared as he was, a fat weapon hammering away at him.
, a sound so deep and feral Draco’s heart froze, and bit harder. Draco went quiet, tears escaping him. Potter wasn’t going to come to himself, to realise this wasn’t him, to stop. He was going to fuck Draco to completion.
Horribly, he was beginning to feel that mythical arousal from the vampire’s bite. He was light-headed from loss of blood and the arousal was increasing as the panic dampened. Potter was going to kill him but still there were the immediate sensations surround him: Potter fucking him steadily and the painful bite in his shoulder. There were Potter’s groans, his body surrounding Draco’s, and the feel of Draco’s cock twitching a little.
Draco could feel Potter’s body warming slowly – gruesomely, it was from his own blood, but that didn’t change the sensation’s appeal. He felt himself shiver, go slowly limp.
Draco felt cold. His hands were going numb. He’d pressed them against the wall, trying to cushion himself as Potter’s thrusts pushed him against it regular as a heartbeat. (A healthy one at least.) He heard his nails scraping the paint as his hands trailed down the wall. He hoped Potter would let them lie down soon.
Maybe Potter would stop and he could sleep.
He shut his eyes, wanting to shut out the world: Potter’s grunting, the fangs, the cock inside his sore hole –
Suddenly Potter retracted his fangs. Draco gasped as pain flared the length of his neck.
“Draco.” Potter held a bloody finger before his eyes. “Suck on this, now.”
“Come on.” Potter’s voice was almost coaxing. “My blood for yours – an exchange.”
“No,” Draco protested. “No, I don’t want it – ” He turned his face away, whining.
“Quiet.” A hand seized Draco’s chin, five pressure points sinking in, and a finger forced its way between his teeth.
Draco almost choked, his throat working hopelessly. Potter fucked him a little faster even as he heard Draco’s panicked noises. But Potter’s finger, coated in something iron-tasting and foul, was unmoving. Pressing down on Draco’s tongue.
A shudder worked its way the length of his body. Draco felt himself tighten painfully around Potter’s cock, and his own hardened a little.
“That’s got you going,” Potter said, sounding amused. “Couldn’t have you fainting on me during, that’s no fun at all.”
Draco made a miserable sound around Potter’s finger.
“Aww, cheer up.” Draco felt fingers curl round his half-hard cock: warm fingers, probably flushed with his
blood. “I’m thinking I could make this fun for you... I might as well, if I’m going to keep you around.”
Terror tightened Draco’s chest. He gulped in a heaving breath.
Potter chuckled and tightened his hand on Draco’s cock. He was thrusting faster now: maybe he’d had his fun, drawn this out enough... Draco felt suffocated. It was three fingers, now, as Potter forced more bloody digits in.
“Try to scream. Go on.”
Draco’s arousal increased unnaturally fast, his cock hardening too suddenly, sensation pounding through his body. He moaned in protest as Potter stroked him and licked his bleeding neck. He didn’t know what was happening but he didn’t want it, the blood was doing something to him –
Potter came with a roar. Draco followed, and everything went black.