WildSide 8
Title: WildSide 8
Author: enchanted_jae
Characters: Harry/Draco, Daffyd/Pansy, OMC
Word count: 1350
Rating: NC17
Warning(s): Sex and smut
Disclaimer: Characters are the property of JK Rowling, et al. This was written for fun, not for profit.
Additional disclaimer: Author is not responsible for underage readers. Observe the rating and warnings.
Author's note: Written as a gift for nenne, in thanks for the Fight AIDS charity VGift.
Summary: Draco is thwarted in his attempts to foil his dragon.
Draco strode down Knockturn Alley and paused outside the door to Wanton Witch Tattoos. He wished to lodge a complaint with the proprietor, but Draco had found her intimidating the first and only time he'd met her. Reminding himself that he was a Malfoy, Draco pushed open the door and entered the shop.
Rochelle glanced up at him. "Back for another tattoo, love?"
"I have come to speak to you concerning the tattoo I purchased here," said Draco. Rochelle's cheerful smile faded, and Draco had to force himself not to cringe. He was unused to dealing with girls who had blue hair, various facial piercings and tattoos up and down their arms.
"Is there a problem?" Rochelle asked in a frosty voice.
"My tattoo has become a menace," Draco told her.
Inexplicably, the girl laughed. "You paid a handsome price for a sentient tattoo," she said.
"I didn't anticipate it would become even more sentient!"
Rochelle shrugged. "They're known to do that when in close proximity to those with powerful magic."
"Close proximity?" Draco gritted. "How close?"
Rochelle leaned toward him and smirked. "Intimate proximity," she said in hushed tones. "Do you have something you'd like to share?"
"What?!" squawked Draco. "No!" He couldn't believe the cheek of the girl. "How do I reverse the effects?"
"Sorry, love," said Rochelle, sinking back onto her stool and flipping through a catalog of tattoos.
It was Draco's turn to lean forward aggressively. "Are you saying there's nothing to be done?"
She slanted him a crooked smile. "If I were you, I'd enjoy it."
~*~
Draco returned home and sulked for the remainder of the day. He had been hoping to somehow tone down his dragon's reactions to Potter, but the witch who had inked him had implied there was no going back. His once docile dragon now had a mind of its own, and it had taken an unfortunate fancy to Harry Potter. Draco's cock flexed at the thought of Potter, and he glared at his groin. It seemed his cock had also taken a fancy to Potter, and Draco was now outnumbered.
"I don't want to spend the rest of my life shagging Potter," he snarled aloud. The damned dragon fluttered across his back in reaction. Its tail flicked inside of Draco, and Draco's prick surged with blood. Draco cursed and stomped into his bedroom to get ready to go out. His first, stubborn inclination was to avoid WildSide, but the dragon had already made it clear that it wasn't accepting any callers except Potter.
~*~
Draco arrived at the club late. He spotted Pansy seated at her favorite table with her boyfriend Daffyd. Potter wasn't with them, and Draco automatically scanned the dance floor. He scowled at the sight of Potter dancing with a rather fit bloke. So, Potter had moved on, had he? Good riddance. Perhaps now Draco's recalcitrant dragon would cease being such an unruly slag.
Draco joined Pansy and Daffyd, helping himself to a swig of Pansy's mixed drink.
"Someone is horning in on your shag of the week," Pansy remarked.
"Potter is not my shag of the week," sneered Draco.
"Yet, you knew whom I was referring to," said Pansy. Beside her, Daffyd snickered.
Draco knocked back the rest of Pansy's drink and stood without another word. He made his way to the dance floor and joined the throng of gyrating bodies. A dark-haired bloke approached, and Draco angled toward him, not quite touching, but making it obvious they were dancing together. Draco had barely worked up a decent sweat before he felt arms wrap around him from behind.
"You have some nerve, leaving my bed to go dancing with another man."
Draco's spine stiffened, reacting to Potter's words and to the frantic writhing of the dragon on his back. The man in front of him glared at a point over Draco's shoulder, only to visibly cringe an instant later and disappear in the crowd of dancers. Draco tried to turn, but Potter's arms tightened on him, holding him in place as they swayed together.
"Don't you have another conquest to tame?" jibed Draco.
Potter chuckled in his ear. "He's already too tame for me," he said. "I like my blokes on the wild side."
Draco couldn't help but crack a smile at Potter's joke, and he was grateful the arrogant prick couldn't see his face. "I like my blokes a little less pushy," he said.
"Nonsense," scoffed Potter. "You get bored too easily. That's why none of the others lasted." As he spoke, Potter tugged the back of Draco's shirt from his trousers and slid a hand up inside of it, caressing Draco's bare skin and the dragon tattoo inked across his lower back.
The dragon squirmed in delight, and the sensation of its tail wriggling inside of Draco nearly put him on his knees. Potter's arms were there to support Draco as his legs grew weak.
"Would you like to stay and dance, or would you prefer to take this to bed?" Potter rasped in Draco's ear.
"I'm tired of falling into bed with you," Draco snapped.
"We can shag on the sofa," said Potter. He continued to pet Draco's dragon until Draco himself was arching and writhing like a cat in heat. "Dance or shag?" pressed Potter.
"Shag," blurted Draco. He experienced a moment of disorientation before realizing that Potter had Apparated them directly into his flat. How Draco managed to arrive sans his shirt was somewhat of a mystery. Potter didn't give Draco any time to quibble over missing garments. He pressed Draco onto the sofa, following him down and smoothing first his hands then his tongue over the dragon tattooed on Draco's back.
The wretched dragon undulated across Draco's skin, lapping up Potter's attention like a devoted dog. "Stop pandering to that damned dragon and shag me," snarled Draco. He didn't wait for Potter to comply; instead, Draco sat up and began undoing his trousers.
Potter followed suit, shedding his clothing at a remarkable rate of speed. He then fished a small tube of lubricant from between the sofa cushions and put it to use preparing Draco.
"Hurry up," Draco said as he crouched on the sofa and gave an impatient wiggle of his hips. Potter's hands stilled him, and the pleasant burn of penetration stalled the breath in Draco's lungs. He could feel the dragon's wings fluttering across his skin as it reacted to Potter's intimate proximity. Judging from Potter's sharp gasp, Draco reckoned the dragon's tail had wound around Potter's cock, as it seemed wont to do when they shagged.
"Feels so bloody good, Malfoy," Potter moaned.
Draco glowered at him over his shoulder. "Me, or the dragon?" he asked, tone petulant.
"Both of you," said Potter, pausing to roll his hips and make Draco groan. "You and your tattoo come as a set, and I wouldn't want it any other way."
Any response Draco may have wished to make was forgotten when Potter's next thrust prodded his prostate and left Draco biting his lip to stifle his whimpers. He gripped the arm of the sofa with one hand and spread his legs wider for balance. Potter might be a pushy prat, but he was no slouch when it came to shagging. Draco lost himself to the sensation of Potter's thick cock plunging in and out and rubbing over his sweet spot. He was going to come too soon, but Draco didn't care. He arched back, meeting each thrust half way. Draco reached between his legs and began stroking himself.
Draco's body tensed, and his rhythm faltered. An instant later he was crying out and spurting over Potter's sofa. Draco relaxed and slumped forward just in time to feel Potter pulse inside of him. Potter ended up draped over Draco's back and panting in his ear.
"You're smothering me," Draco complained.
"I can't move."
"Yes, yes, I know," sighed Draco. "A dragon has you by the cock."
WildSide 9
Author: enchanted_jae
Characters: Harry/Draco, Daffyd/Pansy, OMC
Word count: 1350
Rating: NC17
Warning(s): Sex and smut
Disclaimer: Characters are the property of JK Rowling, et al. This was written for fun, not for profit.
Additional disclaimer: Author is not responsible for underage readers. Observe the rating and warnings.
Author's note: Written as a gift for nenne, in thanks for the Fight AIDS charity VGift.
Summary: Draco is thwarted in his attempts to foil his dragon.
Draco strode down Knockturn Alley and paused outside the door to Wanton Witch Tattoos. He wished to lodge a complaint with the proprietor, but Draco had found her intimidating the first and only time he'd met her. Reminding himself that he was a Malfoy, Draco pushed open the door and entered the shop.
Rochelle glanced up at him. "Back for another tattoo, love?"
"I have come to speak to you concerning the tattoo I purchased here," said Draco. Rochelle's cheerful smile faded, and Draco had to force himself not to cringe. He was unused to dealing with girls who had blue hair, various facial piercings and tattoos up and down their arms.
"Is there a problem?" Rochelle asked in a frosty voice.
"My tattoo has become a menace," Draco told her.
Inexplicably, the girl laughed. "You paid a handsome price for a sentient tattoo," she said.
"I didn't anticipate it would become even more sentient!"
Rochelle shrugged. "They're known to do that when in close proximity to those with powerful magic."
"Close proximity?" Draco gritted. "How close?"
Rochelle leaned toward him and smirked. "Intimate proximity," she said in hushed tones. "Do you have something you'd like to share?"
"What?!" squawked Draco. "No!" He couldn't believe the cheek of the girl. "How do I reverse the effects?"
"Sorry, love," said Rochelle, sinking back onto her stool and flipping through a catalog of tattoos.
It was Draco's turn to lean forward aggressively. "Are you saying there's nothing to be done?"
She slanted him a crooked smile. "If I were you, I'd enjoy it."
~*~
Draco returned home and sulked for the remainder of the day. He had been hoping to somehow tone down his dragon's reactions to Potter, but the witch who had inked him had implied there was no going back. His once docile dragon now had a mind of its own, and it had taken an unfortunate fancy to Harry Potter. Draco's cock flexed at the thought of Potter, and he glared at his groin. It seemed his cock had also taken a fancy to Potter, and Draco was now outnumbered.
"I don't want to spend the rest of my life shagging Potter," he snarled aloud. The damned dragon fluttered across his back in reaction. Its tail flicked inside of Draco, and Draco's prick surged with blood. Draco cursed and stomped into his bedroom to get ready to go out. His first, stubborn inclination was to avoid WildSide, but the dragon had already made it clear that it wasn't accepting any callers except Potter.
~*~
Draco arrived at the club late. He spotted Pansy seated at her favorite table with her boyfriend Daffyd. Potter wasn't with them, and Draco automatically scanned the dance floor. He scowled at the sight of Potter dancing with a rather fit bloke. So, Potter had moved on, had he? Good riddance. Perhaps now Draco's recalcitrant dragon would cease being such an unruly slag.
Draco joined Pansy and Daffyd, helping himself to a swig of Pansy's mixed drink.
"Someone is horning in on your shag of the week," Pansy remarked.
"Potter is not my shag of the week," sneered Draco.
"Yet, you knew whom I was referring to," said Pansy. Beside her, Daffyd snickered.
Draco knocked back the rest of Pansy's drink and stood without another word. He made his way to the dance floor and joined the throng of gyrating bodies. A dark-haired bloke approached, and Draco angled toward him, not quite touching, but making it obvious they were dancing together. Draco had barely worked up a decent sweat before he felt arms wrap around him from behind.
"You have some nerve, leaving my bed to go dancing with another man."
Draco's spine stiffened, reacting to Potter's words and to the frantic writhing of the dragon on his back. The man in front of him glared at a point over Draco's shoulder, only to visibly cringe an instant later and disappear in the crowd of dancers. Draco tried to turn, but Potter's arms tightened on him, holding him in place as they swayed together.
"Don't you have another conquest to tame?" jibed Draco.
Potter chuckled in his ear. "He's already too tame for me," he said. "I like my blokes on the wild side."
Draco couldn't help but crack a smile at Potter's joke, and he was grateful the arrogant prick couldn't see his face. "I like my blokes a little less pushy," he said.
"Nonsense," scoffed Potter. "You get bored too easily. That's why none of the others lasted." As he spoke, Potter tugged the back of Draco's shirt from his trousers and slid a hand up inside of it, caressing Draco's bare skin and the dragon tattoo inked across his lower back.
The dragon squirmed in delight, and the sensation of its tail wriggling inside of Draco nearly put him on his knees. Potter's arms were there to support Draco as his legs grew weak.
"Would you like to stay and dance, or would you prefer to take this to bed?" Potter rasped in Draco's ear.
"I'm tired of falling into bed with you," Draco snapped.
"We can shag on the sofa," said Potter. He continued to pet Draco's dragon until Draco himself was arching and writhing like a cat in heat. "Dance or shag?" pressed Potter.
"Shag," blurted Draco. He experienced a moment of disorientation before realizing that Potter had Apparated them directly into his flat. How Draco managed to arrive sans his shirt was somewhat of a mystery. Potter didn't give Draco any time to quibble over missing garments. He pressed Draco onto the sofa, following him down and smoothing first his hands then his tongue over the dragon tattooed on Draco's back.
The wretched dragon undulated across Draco's skin, lapping up Potter's attention like a devoted dog. "Stop pandering to that damned dragon and shag me," snarled Draco. He didn't wait for Potter to comply; instead, Draco sat up and began undoing his trousers.
Potter followed suit, shedding his clothing at a remarkable rate of speed. He then fished a small tube of lubricant from between the sofa cushions and put it to use preparing Draco.
"Hurry up," Draco said as he crouched on the sofa and gave an impatient wiggle of his hips. Potter's hands stilled him, and the pleasant burn of penetration stalled the breath in Draco's lungs. He could feel the dragon's wings fluttering across his skin as it reacted to Potter's intimate proximity. Judging from Potter's sharp gasp, Draco reckoned the dragon's tail had wound around Potter's cock, as it seemed wont to do when they shagged.
"Feels so bloody good, Malfoy," Potter moaned.
Draco glowered at him over his shoulder. "Me, or the dragon?" he asked, tone petulant.
"Both of you," said Potter, pausing to roll his hips and make Draco groan. "You and your tattoo come as a set, and I wouldn't want it any other way."
Any response Draco may have wished to make was forgotten when Potter's next thrust prodded his prostate and left Draco biting his lip to stifle his whimpers. He gripped the arm of the sofa with one hand and spread his legs wider for balance. Potter might be a pushy prat, but he was no slouch when it came to shagging. Draco lost himself to the sensation of Potter's thick cock plunging in and out and rubbing over his sweet spot. He was going to come too soon, but Draco didn't care. He arched back, meeting each thrust half way. Draco reached between his legs and began stroking himself.
Draco's body tensed, and his rhythm faltered. An instant later he was crying out and spurting over Potter's sofa. Draco relaxed and slumped forward just in time to feel Potter pulse inside of him. Potter ended up draped over Draco's back and panting in his ear.
"You're smothering me," Draco complained.
"I can't move."
"Yes, yes, I know," sighed Draco. "A dragon has you by the cock."
WildSide 9